Purpose

This story is based on real events. Parts of the story may be incomplete, dramatized, or completely made up to emphasize the tragedy (also due to my limited knowledge of the facts; probably better that way). This is the Cliff’s Notes version:

This summer, an old man, we’ll call him Arie, watched with sadness as the last orange was picked from the groves that his family had operated since the 1800’s. It wasn’t just the end of the harvest; it was the end of an era.

Arie’s family had settled on this barrier island along Florida’s east coast back in the 1800’s. They were subsistence hunters and farmers. They hunted gator in the wetlands and hooked redfish in the estuary. They planted citrus groves. Over time they planted more citrus; several hundred acres more. There were hard times, the occasional freeze or a long drought, but they made it… farming was a way of life for them.

By the 1960’s things began to change. Word spread that the government was moving in. They were buying everybody’s land and moving the houses, even the homes and land that weren’t for sale. The government bought up over 140,000 acres of land, including Arie’s groves. The groves, the homestead, gone.

Once word got out that the government ousted farmers from their livelihood people were outraged. The agriculture lobby was not having it. So a compromise was reached and the government rented the land back to Arie so he could grow his citrus.

This agreement went on for over forty years. Over time the aging groves became susceptible to citrus canker and citrus greening. Yields dropped, and the agency was becoming increasing annoyed with this seemingly sentimental exception that had been repeatedly grandfathered in over the years as part of the agencies responsibilities.

Arie was getting up there in age. He was diagnosed with cancer, probably the result of a life-time working in the groves. He kept working though. Citrus was his life.

A decision was made by the government to not renew the citrus contract. Arie and his crew had until July 31^st to pull out. They harvested their last batch of oranges in June. July rolled around and the government hadn’t changed their mind. Arie had to once again say goodbye to his family’s legacy, his life’s work, the only thing he knew how to do. By the time the barns were emptied, the weeds had already swallowed the once thriving grove. Without a purpose, Arie gave up the fight. The cancer took over; he died six weeks later…

Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little; we owe it everything. The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose ~ William Cowper

Now listen to this song. (thanks Emily)