Saturday's Internet Edition, July 31, 2010.
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| Row upon row of Brookshier pecan trees ready to bear the infamour nut that we, and the rest of the world, love. |
- By Holly Wise, Staff Reporter
If you’ve ever wondered what China and Van Horn, Texas have in common, it’s their love of the pecan, an oblong-shaped nut that is actually considered a drupe, a fruit with a single stone or pit.
Nuts, drupes, regardless of the technicality of their name, China loves to buy them and Brookshier Pecan Farm Joint Venture of Van Horn loves to sell them - to the tune of five-and-a-half million pounds in the past three years.
“The Chinese loves pecans,” said farm manager and part-owner Kyle Brookshier. “Every pecan is sold to them.”
The farm is nearly 35 years old, started in 1976 by Brookshier’s father. Fourteen thousand trees were planted on 300 acres and most of these trees are still faithfully producing fruit. According to Brookshier, the pecan tree’s productivity does not decline with age.
Brookshier moved to the farm in 1975; his family has owned either half or all of the pecan farm since then, he said.
Today the original orchard is stoically producing nuts on what is now 614 acres on the north farm, located off of FM 2185. The original trees have been joined by transplants to bring the tree total to 20,000.
The south farm, located on Highway 90, consists of 656 acres and 32,500 trees.
Of the hundreds of thousands of pecan trees in the United States, they all have one thing in common. Being alternate bearing trees, every pecan tree has an on-year and an off-year and those years are the same for every tree.
“Everybody’s off, everybody’s on at the same time,” said Brookshier. “It’s the pecan mystery. Everyone in the world has tried to solve it.”
While the mystery can’t be solved, certain advances have been made to even out the productivity between the on and off-years.
Hedging is the main tool used by pecan farmers.
“We hedge in the on-year so the tree won’t overproduce,” said Brookshier. If left unhedged, trees will deplete their carbohydrate levels, which will keep their productivity lower then desired in the off-year.
“So the hedging is done going into the on-year so they won’t overproduce so you can have a fair crop in the off-year,” explained Brookshier. Hedging evens out the crop productivity to 100 percent in an on-year and 60 percent in the off-year, he added.
The process of hedging saws either side of the the tree and the top so it’s not taller than 31 feet and no wider than 16 feet, said Brookshier.
Between bordering counties of Dona Ana in New Mexico and El Paso in Texas, 20 to 35 percent of the total United States pecan crop is produced.
The soil in West Texas is condusive to the growing of pecan trees but not without enormous amounts of water. Between the two farms, Brookshier operates 11 wells and distributes 240 gallons a day to every tree for six-and-a-half months.
“Pecan trees are very heavy users of water,” he added.
Until two years ago, the wells were operated by diesel but Brookshier made the switch to electricity for economic reasons.
The trees are irrigated one of three ways: drip, surge and flood. Fertilization is pumped into the irrigation system and transferred to each tree.
The pecan season starts at bud break on April 10th, said Brookshier. Harvest takes place the first Monday after Thanksgiving when the first freeze has hit and dried the hulls. That’s when the farm’s 15 employees plus an additional 30 descend on the orchard to begin the process of gathering fruit.
Shakers shake the tree to make the nuts fall off. A blower machine blows the nuts into windrows, much like hay, and a sweeper sweeps them off the ground.
From there the nuts undergo a tedious process, which involves having dust, sticks and rocks blown off them before entering the cleaning plant.
At the cleaning plant, well-oiled machines seperate large stones from the nuts and conveyer belts transfer the fruit from one machine to the next, sorting the best fruit from the “seconds” and “thirds” and the hollow shells from the good fruit. Conveyer belts take the nuts into a room where workers stand on either side of the belt and sort the nuts by hand before sending them off for packaging.
The best fruit is packaged into “super sacks”, which weigh between 1,100 and 1,400 pounds. Seconds are sacked in burlap bags weighing 100 pounds.
“There’s a market for everything that comes off the plant,” said Brookshier.
So when the sun sets over the West Texas farm and rises in the Orient, Brookshier, who said he has no plans for retirement, and the Chinese population have one passion in common - pecans.
Column One
By Dawn Simpson
Cemetery Watchman ..
I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey's. Sneaking a look at my watch, I saw the time, 1655. Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day. Full dress was hot in the August sun. Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever--the heat and humidity at the same level--both too high.
I saw the car pull into the drive, '69 or '70 model Cadillac Deville, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail's pace.. An old woman got out so slow I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers--about four or five bunches as best I could tell.
I couldn't help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly bitter taste: 'She's going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier, my hip hurts like hell and I'm ready to get out of here right now!' But for this day, my duty was to assist anyone coming in.
Kevin would lock the 'In' gate and if I could hurry the old biddy along, we might make it to Smokey's in time.
I broke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took the first step and the pain went up a notch. I must have made a real military sight: middle-aged man with a small pot gut and half a limp, in marine full-dress uniform, which had lost its razor crease about thirty minutes after I began the watch at the cemetery.
I stopped in front of her, halfway up the walk. She looked up at me with an old woman's squint.
'Ma'am, may I assist you in any way?'
She took long enough to answer.
'Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow these days.'
'My pleasure, ma'am.' Well, it wasn't too much of a lie.
She looked again. 'Marine, where were you stationed?'
' Vietnam, ma'am.. Ground-pounder. '69 to '71.'
She looked at me closer. 'Wounded in action, I see. Well done, Marine. I'll be as quick as I can.'
I lied a little bigger: 'No hurry, ma'am.'
She smiled and winked at me. 'Son, I'm 85-years-old and I can tell a lie from a long way off.. Let's get this done. Might be the last time I can do this. My name's Joanne Wieserman, and I've a few Marines I'd like to see one more time.'
'Yes, ma 'am. At your service.'
She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. She picked one of the flowers out of my arm and laid it on top of the stone. She murmured something I couldn't quite make out.. The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC: France 1918.
She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, stopping at one stone. I saw a tear slowly tracking its way down her cheek. She put a bunch on a stone; the name wasStephen X.Davidson, USMC, 1943.
She went up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944..
She paused for a second. 'Two more, son, and we'll be done'
I almost didn't say anything, but, 'Yes, ma'am. Take your time.'
She looked confused.. 'Where's the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way.'
I pointed with my chin. 'That way, ma'am.'
'Oh!' she chuckled quietly. 'Son, me and old age ain't too friendly.'
She headed down the walk I'd pointed at. She stopped at a couple of stones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunch on Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968, and the last on Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970. She stood there and murmured a few words I still couldn't make out.
'OK, son, I'm finished. Get me back to my car and you can go home.'
Yes, ma'am. If I may ask, were those your kinfolk?'
She paused. 'Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle,Stanley was my husband, Larry andDarrel were our sons. All killed in action, all marines.'
She stopped. Whether she had finished, or couldn't finish, I don't know. She made her way to her car, slowly and painfully.
I waited for a polite distance to come between us and then double-timed it over to Kevin, waiting by the car.
'Get to the 'Out' gate quick.. I have something I've got to do.'
Kevin started to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He broke the rules to get us there down the service road. We beat her. She hadn't made it around the rotunda yet.
'Kevin, stand at attention next to the gatepost. Follow my lead.' I humped it across the drive to the other post.
When the Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges and began the short straight traverse to the gate, I called in my best gunny's voice: 'TehenHut! Present Haaaarms!'
I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye--full dress attention and a salute that would make his DI proud.
She drove through that gate with two old worn-out soldiers giving her a send-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and for knowing duty, honor and sacrifice.
I am not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.
Instead of 'The End,' just think of 'Taps.'
As a final thought on my part, let me share a favorite prayer: 'Lord, keep our servicemen and women safe, whether they serve at home or overseas. Hold them in your loving hands and protect them as they protect us.'
COMMUNITY CALENDAR
May 27th - Nothing scheduled at press time.
May 28th- Nothing scheduled at press time.
May 29th - Nothing scheduled at press time.
May 30th - Attend the church of your choice today.
May 31st - Memorial Day Holiday.
June 1st - The Van Horn Rotary Club will meet today at noon at Chuy’s Restaurant. CCAISD will hold a Kinder Graduation today at 2 p.m. The Van Horn City Council is slated to meet this evening at City Hall beginning at 7 p.m.
June 2nd - National Honor Society induction ceremony at the High School Library at 5:30 p.m.