Faces in the Fields

Each year in late winter, fields of young daffodils begin to reach the point of being ready to harvest at Lubbe Farms along Monte-Brady Road between Montesano and Elma. About 80 harvesters take to the fields owned by Kurt and Lynn Lubbe, painstakingly plucking the unbloomed flowers. The harvesters arrive close to dawn while the early morning mist still clings to the ground. They separate into groups and get assigned to sections of fields ready to be picked. Usually in rain gear, the workers slowly make their way down the rows of flowers. Many wear bright blue rubber gloves to prevent the daffodil’s toxic secretions from irritating their skin.

The process goes like this. Pick, take a step, pick, take a step, pick, bundle the flowers, bind them with a rubber band and a label, repeat. A collector wanders the field receiving the bundled daffodils from the pickers and then deposits them into black, plastic crates. When the crates fill up they are taken and loaded onto a tractor trailer parked nearby.

Harvesters continue this process until around noon, at which point they head to a barn where they line up to spray the mud from their boots and sit down either inside or in their cars for lunch. Few workers speak much English, and many didn’t give their names, but that doesn’t prevent them from expressing their warmth and generosity. During lunch one day, some of the women invited me to sit and eat with them. They didn’t say much to me, other than to tell me to take more tortillas, but their hospitality was apparent.

After lunch, work continues into the evening, repeating the same process as before. Some harvesters are new to the farm, but many come back each year — some for as long as 15 years. “Sometimes, you know, they’re gone for a couple years then they come back. I think it depends on the kids. If the kids are young and they don’t have a babysitter, I don’t blame them,” said Kurt Lubbe. “Great workers. The more they work the happier they are … I’m fortunate to have them … If I didn’t, I don’t think I’d be picking daffodils, I really don’t.”

“These are my people,” said Lynn.