(SOUNDBITE OF THE BERLIN PHILHARMONIC ORCHESTRA'S PERFORMANCE OF JOHANN STRAUSS II'S "THE BLUE DANUBE")
ARI SHAPIRO, HOST:
In the classic sci-fi movie "2001: A Space Odyssey," there is a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment. One of the astronauts is on his way to the moon, sucking down some space food, and the food packet is labeled Seabrook Farms Liquipack.
(SOUNDBITE OF THE BERLIN PHILHARMONIC ORCHESTRA'S PERFORMANCE OF JOHANN STRAUSS II'S "THE BLUE DANUBE")
SHAPIRO: That shows how big Seabrook Farms was in the mid-20th century. In 1955, Life magazine called the New Jersey company the biggest vegetable factory on Earth. The family that owned and ran this farming empire was straight out of "Succession" - ruthless, backstabbing and alcoholic. A new book tells this story. It's called "The Spinach King: The Rise And Fall Of An American Dynasty," and the author, John Seabrook, knows the characters well because they are his relatives. John Seabrook, welcome to ALL THINGS CONSIDERED.
JOHN SEABROOK: Hey, Ari. Delighted to be here.
SHAPIRO: What do you remember about your grandfather, the patriarch of this company, C. F. Seabrook?
SEABROOK: Well, he - I only met my grandfather once toward the end of his life, and he was pretty far sunk into I think dementia, probably, at that point, so my only actual physical memory of him is a little scary. But I certainly grew up with his reputation, which was very august, very sort of shining, spectacular, accomplished man of America, a great capitalist. The book begins with my father reading the obituary that The Times published about him, in which he's represented as a great man, a great industrialist and a great builder.
SHAPIRO: Yeah. So that obituary described him as the sort of American titan who pioneered frozen food technology and changed the eating habits of the nation. Your book kind of unmasks him. Will you read from early on? This is page 14.
SEABROOK: Yeah, there's a passage on page 14 that reads...
(Reading) Ambition, energy and ingenuity drove his rise, but violence and terror allowed him to maintain control. We often bury the details of how large fortunes are made, as the brutality underlying them is less inspiring to read about than the eureka moments of accomplishment. Had the obituary writer checked The Times' own morgue, they would have found front-page coverage of tear gas and billy clubs, mobsters and vigilantes and the burning crosses of the KKK.
SHAPIRO: That's partly a reference to a farm workers' strike that took place in 1934. How did your grandfather respond to that strike?
SEABROOK: Yeah, so my grandfather was a man who enjoyed total control and was able to enforce total control for several decades in the first part of Seabrook Farms. But in the 1930s, the workers decided that they were fed up with their pay and with the practices of my grandfather. So they decided they'd had enough, and even though farm workers didn't have a lot of leverage when it came to unions - there was no union - they did have nature on their side because there are certain times of the year when the work has to be done or the crops...
SHAPIRO: If the food doesn't get picked, it'll rot in the field.
SEABROOK: That's right. And so they chose one of those times and they struck. And they had the company over a barrel, and my grandfather was forced to concede to their demands. Then he took them back, they struck again, and that was when the vigilantes and the KKK and the violence took place. And that was in - yeah - July of 1934.
SHAPIRO: So he made a promise, broke that promise and then responded with violence. How does this figure of your grandfather compare to either the diminished man who you have this memory of at the end of his life, or the towering figure that you were told about and read about as a child?
SEABROOK: I think my grandfather contained many parts, and I wouldn't want to dismiss his accomplishments entirely, but he was unable to cede control either to his sons or to what eventually became the union at Seabrook Farms. He was just a man who could not share. He was an absolutist and an authoritarian. And as he aged, and I think his powers diminished, he had to exert extra means to hang on, and that included violence.
SHAPIRO: It seems that in your family, fathers and sons have betrayed and backstabbed each other in truly shocking ways for generations, and there are members of your family who view your writing this book as yet another betrayal. Do you think they're right?
SEABROOK: That's a very difficult question to answer. Am I betraying my grandfather by telling the world what he was really like? I suppose you could look at it that way, but I sort of feel like these traumas that take place in families, whether you identify them and make them public or whether you keep them quiet and sweep it under the rug, they find their way down through the generations, kind of like water trickling through rocks. And they end up - you know, they seek (ph) gravity, and that's the most recent generation. So I have a son and I have a daughter, and I certainly don't want that sort of, you know, waste water seeping down into our relationship, and I wanted the truth out so that, you know, we are at least on an honest and firm basis for a relationship that I feel like is important.
SHAPIRO: There's a broad question about what any of us should do when our advantages come from the suffering of others, and I think many people in the U.S. benefit from the labor of people who were enslaved more than a century ago, which is something that we struggle with. But that is more abstract than what you lay out in this book, explaining how your particular family privileges were built on the misery of Seabrook farmworkers. So how do you think about the obligations that come with that privilege, either in your life specifically or more generally?
SEABROOK: One of the things that I'm proudest of in this book is that, for the first time, the migration stories of the African Americans who came to Seabrook Farms from the Deep South, from the Jim Crow South, has been told. So yes, certainly I owe a debt for my privileges that were based on the hardships of others. And in telling this book, I have tried to show those hardships and show how brave and how resolute these workers were and, in spite of my grandfather's attempt to crush them, were able to achieve a union and were able to achieve rights, you know, now are able to have their stories told for the first time, and those stories are now going to continue to be told. There's going to be a monument to the migrant workers that's created down in Seabrook as part of a Mellon Foundation grant. And I think, you know, finally, the Black workers are getting their due that they never had before. So that - I'm very happy about that. I'm not saying that it sort of makes up for all of the privileges that I received, but at least it gives me a certain amount of comfort.
SHAPIRO: How do you feel about eating frozen vegetables these days?
SEABROOK: (Laughter) Well, you know, frozen vegetables, I feel like they always got a bad rap.
SHAPIRO: (Laughter).
SEABROOK: They're actually - I mean, you know, a lot of times they're healthier for you. If a fresh vegetable...
SHAPIRO: Here's the company ad for Seabrook Farms - frozen vegetables, straight from...
SEABROOK: No, no, no. Try the creamed spinach, kids.
SHAPIRO: (Laughter).
SEABROOK: Try the creamed spinach. You'll love it (laughter).
SHAPIRO: John Seabrook's new book is "The Spinach King: The Rise And Fall Of An American Dynasty." Thank you so much.
SEABROOK: Thank you, Ari. It's been really fun.
(SOUNDBITE OF THE BERLIN PHILHARMONIC ORCHESTRA'S PERFORMANCE OF JOHAN STRAUSS II'S "THE BLUE DANUBE") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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