IT'S ALL TREW


| October 2004



FC_V7_I3_Oct_2004_10-1.jpg

Delbert TrewDelbert Trew

The 'terrible twosome'' took a toll on Texas farms and ranches

I recently found a photo - taken in 1933 in North Dakota - that triggered memories of grasshoppers and all the problems they brought farmers in Texas. The picture was taken the year I was born, but I can recall years later as a boy when we suffered from an overabundance of the leaping, ever-hungry, leaf-devouring insects.

Everything green - including crops, gardens and grasses - was damaged by plagues of grasshoppers that periodically appeared. They also liked to eat the bark off cedar posts, vehicle seat covers and even chewed holes in the laundry as it hung on the clothesline.

Fencerows seemed to be the grasshoppers' favorite home and breeding ground, so farmers devised many creative ways to combat the destructive critters where they lived. For example, wheat bran was cheap and easily mixed with poison. The mixture was small enough that poultry and livestock couldn't ingest enough poison to be affected.

The concoction was mixed in barrels with big paddles, then distributed by hand, on horseback or by a spreader pulled behind a truck or tractor. Known as 'grasshopper bait,' farmers flung the bran into weeds alongside the fields to kill the hoppers before they munched the delicate crops nearby. Mother always spread a band of hopper poison around her garden each summer.

Mechanical bait spreaders were mostly home-built, or constructed from old Model T rear ends turned upright to spin a disc that flung the bait. Add a barrel hopper for the poison and a tongue to pull the spreader, and a farmer was in the grasshopper-killing business. Our old spreader sat in the family junkyard for years until we donated it to the war effort to be converted into ammunition.

Speaking of fencerows, many Western wheat belt farmers will remember those years when tumble-weeds were so prolific that they piled up against fences and bar ditches.