First job

The Today show has been doing a series this week on the first jobs of Matt, Meredith, Al, and Ann. Matt delivered newspapers on his bike, Meredith taught dance classes (I think; I saw only a brief promo for this and missed the actual segment), Al worked in a grocery store, and Ann babysat.

My first job was picking beans. My father grew green beans for the cannery, so of course we kids were delegated to do the picking. A few "town kids" also picked beans on our farm.

I probably started picking beans when I was around eight. At first the job was fun: I got to hang around with older kids from town and eavesdrop on their conversations, and once I even got to have half of one older girl's cucumber sandwich when we stopped for lunch. I was thrilled. I'd never had a cucumber sandwich before, and to think an older girl offered it to me! I was awestruck.

To pick beans, the picker moved down a long row, usually on her knees, pushing a large wicker basket ahead of her. Once the bag was full of fresh beans, she dumped the contents into a large burlap bag. This bag was used only by her; each picker worked with his or her own bags, tagged with his or her name when full, and helped load them into the truck to be taken to a nearby town to be weighed. That's where it was determined how much each picker had picked in a given day, and how much, therefore, each picker had earned.

I recall sneaking a few leaves into the basket occasionally, thinking the added weight of the leaves might make my bag of green beans heavier and, thus, earning me more money. I also recall eating more than my share of raw beans. If you've never eaten an uncooked green bean, you've missed something. Green beans are sweet, crisp, and delicious.

Scooting down a row of beans was not easy. We worked in the hot sun, and we worked all day. I remember the time I scooted ahead on my row and planted a knee right square on a bumble bee. I probably ran crying through the rows of beans to our house and my mother.

In the late afternoon the bean picking would end, the bags of beans would be loaded into the truck, and my father or a brother would drive the truck to the bean weighing station. I usually rode along, too, because I was excited to learn how much cold, hard cash I'd earned on a given day.

Usually my earnings were between $1.60 and $1.80.

For a full day of hard work.

In the hot sun.

But I was happy. $1.60 to $1.80 seemed like big bucks to me in the 1950's. I saved my money for my fall school clothes and school supplies.

That's how it was done back then. And picking beans surely must have been easier than picking potatoes, which is how kids in northern Maine earned their spending money.

My next job was babysitting. That's a story for another time.