Kade McMahon glides atop a field of bleached cumulus tufts. With a joystick, he steers a set of massive yellow teeth that gobble the white like a snowplow. Summer has again overstayed its welcome in northeast Louisiana, but McMahon is sealed from the hot and dusty air, sitting comfortably inside an air-conditioned cotton picker.
It’s not a bad gig for the 21-year-old, who got his start mowing grass during summers in high school. Now he operates a machine worth nearly $1 million.
“I can’t tell you how many farmers are jealous we got Kade,” said Marshall Hardwick, his boss. “Locally grown, hardworking … they just don’t exist anymore, it seems like.”
In October, Tensas Parish — long the state’s top cotton producer — can look more like an early winter in New Hampshire, as white flakes dust the shoulders of La. 65. In Newellton, Hardwick and his brother Mead farm 9,200 acres of the 20,000‑acre Somerset Plantation, the rest owned by 45 other family members.
The fourth-generation farmers grow soybean and corn more than anything else, but dedicate 1,600 acres to their passion: cotton. This year’s harvest is shaping up to be a great one; the brothers are averaging about 3 bales per acre — or roughly 1,400 pounds. That’s over 500 pounds more than a typical year.
“We may potentially have a record cotton crop,” Hardwick said. “And we may still potentially lose money.”
In fact, it’s rare for any farmers in northeast Louisiana to have turned a profit on cotton in the past decade. Demand and prices remain too low, as growers face pressures like tariffs and an ongoing government shutdown, plus deeper challenges like rising input costs, an outdated farm bill and growing competition from countries like Brazil.
While other markets, such as corn and soybeans, face similar challenges, the state of Louisiana’s cotton industry reflects decades of hardship. This year, the state will harvest about 84,000 acres of cotton, almost half of that in Tensas. It’s the smallest crop grown since the Louisiana Purchase, and more than a 90% decrease from about 1 million acres harvested 30 years ago, according to the Louisiana Cotton and Grain Association.
Yet farmers like the Hardwicks are still holding on to cotton, not working for profit, but to preserve a tradition — however complex — woven into the fabric of the land.
When the market moves on
Like their young farmhand, the Hardwicks are a rare breed. Marshall Hardwick, 38, has long hair and a thoughtful demeanor more akin to a musician. In 2013, he returned to the family farm — originally bought by his maternal great-grandfather in the 1940s — after earning a master’s in environmental science from LSU. Mead Hardwick, 44, looks more the part of a farmer with a thick beard, but worked in commercial real estate for a decade in Dallas before home called around the same time.
While other markets, such as corn and soybeans, face similar challenges, the state of Louisiana’s cotton industry reflects decades of hardship. This year, the state will harvest about 84,000 acres of cotton, almost half of that in Tensas. It’s the smallest crop grown since the Louisiana Purchase, and more than a 90% decrease from about 1 million acres harvested 30 years ago, according to the Louisiana Cotton and Grain Association.
Yet farmers like the Hardwicks are still holding on to cotton, not working for profit, but to preserve a tradition — however complex — woven into the fabric of the land.
When the market moves on
Like their young farmhand, the Hardwicks are a rare breed. Marshall Hardwick, 38, has long hair and a thoughtful demeanor more akin to a musician. In 2013, he returned to the family farm — originally bought by his maternal great-grandfather in the 1940s — after earning a master’s in environmental science from LSU. Mead Hardwick, 44, looks more the part of a farmer with a thick beard, but worked in commercial real estate for a decade in Dallas before home called around the same time.
China, India and now Brazil — all where farming costs are lower — have surpassed the U.S. in cotton production, flooding the market and driving down demand. American textile manufacturers now consume 2 million U.S.-grown bales a year, and today’s prices hover around what they were in the 1980s.
Source: https://www.theadvocate.com/