The Kombit of Crop Mobs

By Anne Damrosch, City Market Member
When I noticed the Crop Mob poster at City Market I figured it was a Vermont thing, invented in the Intervale. I had yet to learn that Crop Mobbing is a national movement which began in 2008 in North Carolina. I hadn’t yet read the 2010 New York Times article describing a typical Mob as “20-somethings” in “flannel and hand-knits.”  Luckily, because as a 60-something Vermonter on a March day when everyone was still wearing down and fleece, I might have been scared away. But it was too late for cross-country skiing, way too early to be out in my own garden, and I had a bad case of cabin fever. I decided to find out what a Crop Mob was.

When I arrived at Adam’s Berry Farm a little after 9:00 a.m., work was already underway. At first it seemed there were too many people standing around and not enough jobs. There were also hardened snowdrifts in no hurry to melt in the 20° air. Before I had a chance to reconsider, I was welcomed by Adam, lightly dressed, apparently staying warm bustling here and there giving directions. The task for the day was to cover two greenhouses with plastic. I was told to join the others standing on the bottom edge of the plastic sheeting to keep it from sailing away.

Soon the job got more interesting. The cover had to be anchored by lacing it like a giant boot. Special tasks emerged—tightening the rope with a little gripping gizmo. Threading rope through hooks in the ground. Expertise emerged: to get the rope over to the other side of the house you had to tie on a metal ring and toss it over without beaning the hidden crop mobbers on the other side. Running out of rings we tossed a hula-hoop. One woman was the ring-toss queen. One guy could see the big picture, scurrying about finding better ways of doing things, avoiding kinks and hazards. Some of us gophers dug out frozen rings, moved ladders, ferried tools.

Four hours flew by. There was hot coffee, and local blueberry muffins, laughter, and the kind of easy befriending familiar to children building sand castles on a beach. The work got done. Near the end, Adam shared his gratitude for the help, without which he would be overwhelmed by the enormity of the tasks facing him every spring.

Years ago while living in rural Haiti I learned of the Kombit tradition, a group that comes together for the good of the community. The words “for the good of the community” also mean that on a cold morning in March many hands came together to cover two green houses now warming hundreds of growing strawberry plants. Soon, on a summer day when you are least expecting it, you’ll walk into City Market for a loaf of bread and be greeted by a table brimming with baskets of jewel-like strawberries. I can’t wait.

Learn more about upcoming City Market Crob Mobs.