How on-farm food safety programs get developed - it's the people, and data
There was this time, we thought we’d killed Chapman.
Ben and I went along with Uncle Denton to the Canadian Horticulture Council meeting in Montreal in Feb. 2003. I had chaired a national committee on on-farm food safety program implementation – and the advice was completely ignored – Chapman and I had done years of groundwork with Denton and the Ontario Greenhouse Vegetable Growers, and we agreed to share a room at the annual meeting to cut down on expenses.
There was a couple of receptions and I still remember Ben and I asking Uncle Denton for drink tickets. We then retired to a hotel lounge and I knew trouble was ahead when Chapman asked for a cigarette.
He then went to the bathroom.
He didn’t return.
He showed up a few hours later, seemingly intact.
Denton had forgotten that story (Denton's on the right in that pic with my grandfather, Homer) when I called him a couple of weeks ago, to thank him for the opportunity to develop on-farm food safety stuff back in 1998 with the Ontario Greenhouse Vegetable Growers. I’ve been using those anecdotes (not the ones about Chapman) and lessons learned a lot lately – seems like too many people are in a food safety time warp.
Guess it brought up a few memories for Denton, who wrote this in Sept.’s issue of The Grower:
As you journey through life you meet the occasional person who makes a real difference. Dr. Douglas Powell is one of those – to say the least.
Doug called me recently to talk about the early years. He was new in the On Farm Food Safety business when I was working with the Ontario Greenhouse vegetable group. Doug was at the University of Guelph and I would talk to him about the phone call I didn’t want to get. This would be the imaginary call from a senior’s residence wondering why all the occupants were very sick after consuming a fresh salad, and if the cause may have been the greenhouse tomatoes. I never got that call—thank God--but I wanted to be ready. And that readiness included a strong response indicating we had an On Farm Food Safety program and proof we were capable of tracing our greenhouse product. We’ve seen several incidences in the past few years with certain fresh veggies and berries that almost ruined the industry and certainly crippled those markets for a year or so.
From the University of Guelph and the beginning of the On Farm Food Safety program, Doug has moved to Kansas State University where he is associate professor of food safety. He is still very much in the industry – just relocated to a different university -- and still writing newsletters, hence the reputation of “the guru” of On Farm Food Safety.
Doug has remained a good friend over all these years. We developed a bond as we developed an On Farm Food Safety program for greenhouse vegetables and more. Doug’s philosophy was to keep it simple. He could relate to growers, and had an uncanny ability to make the complicated science of bacterial contamination simple and understandable. Early on, he received a little help from Dr. Gord Surgeoner. These were the seeds of the On Farm Food Safety program in Canada, spreading from Ontario Greenhouse to CHC and to most vegetable growers across Canada.
I can still see Doug in an old T-shirt and jeans, holes in both, and running shoes--that was his fashion statement. Of course, his description of toilet paper “slippage” resulting in fecal contamination on your finger was priceless, but his crude description helped to break down the mystery of bacterial contamination by food handlers with dirty hands. Seems to me I got a T-shirt from Doug with “Don’t Eat Poop” written on the front. Doug continues to be a great communicator, a fair goalie, poor at politics but great at On Farm Food Safety and raising little girls.
Thanks, Doug. I am proud to say I knew you back when.
And I knew Chapman, way back when.
Canada's "asparagus baron" passes at 93
It was always Homer.
Homer Curless McMann. You don't see names like that anymore.
Amy and I are in Alliston, Ontario, today for the funeral of my 93-year-old grandfather, Homer.
Homer spent the winter in Florida for as long as I can remember. And when I was a kid, my family would vacation there in the summer. On one of our last family vacations, 14-year-old me -- feeling fairly hot cause I'd just had my braces removed -- made friends with a girl who was also vacationing with her family. Since all I could think or talk about was this girl, my parents had the outstanding sense to go out with my younger sister and leave me along at Homer's trailer with the girl.
As I made out with the girl, I thought, this is a truly wonderful grandparent.
Courtlynn, you won't remember this, but when you were 6 days old, in 1995, we all drove to Florida and got to stay at a swanky place on the beach in Naples. Homer and Gladys drove down for dinner, and as we watched the sun set over the Gulf, we all felt blessed and thankful.
Homer loved his six grandkids and 17 great-grandkids.
Homer had the gift of the gab. He had to; for almost 20 years he sold most of his 100 acres of asparagus at the door -- today he'd be called an original champion of local food.
In April 1995, I gave a talk at a livestock conference here in Alliston, and brought Homer along for the dinner and entertainment.. As we drove back to the farm, Homer said, to me, "I think you may have the gift of the gab too."
Beyond introducing me to Red Cap Ale -- a beer I drank in university because no one else would touch it and my supply was safe -- Homer had a warmth, especially with strangers.In 2003, my friend Denton Hoffman was named general manager of the Ontario Asparagus Growers Marketing Board, and I said, "you've gotta meet Homer" (that's Homer on the left and Denton on the right).
So, one summer day we drove up to Barrie, Ontario, and took Homer and Noreen out for lunch. His eyes sparkled as he recounted how he paid kids from (nearby Canadian Forces Base) Borden with beer to pull weeds, and how he entertained visitors to the farm, about an hour northwest of Toronto, who would buy asparagus 100 pounds at a time and freeze it.
Homer, here's to you.
