by TERRY TRAHAN, JR.

Three brothers, a son, a brother-in-law and a few hired hands inspect equipment that they will use to plant sugar cane in Raceland’s fields along Bayou Lafourche.

Healthy cane already stands tall outside Foret Farms, which sits near Raceland Raw Sugars in Bowie. A sister town to Raceland, Bowie boomed at the turn of the 20th century as both the lumber and sugar cane industries grew in popularity. The Forets worked fields along Highway 1 then, just as they do today—all 1,800 acres of it.

“My family was involved when cane was beginning here in the late 1800s,” says Rudy Foret, vice president and secretary of Foret Farms. “We grew up following our dads into the field. The kids had that fraternity between them.”

Though the number of family-owned sugar cane farms has dwindled in the area over the years, the Forets remain dedicated to working hard in south Louisiana’s relentless heat to support their families.

Ivy Foret, the brothers’ father, worked on the land when farmers used mules to pull heavy equipment through the fields. He says people were tougher then, before modern conveniences became a necessity. Ivy farmed when most jobs were done by hand. Equipment couldn’t do two jobs at once like the advanced combine harvesters can today. And air conditioning wasn’t even an option.

“I remember hitching the mule to plow the field before going to school,” Ivy says. “My mind wasn’t on school.”

He and his brothers, Paul and Joseph, worked in the sugar cane fields, but their grandfather and great-grandfather also farmed vegetables when the crops were popular during the mid-30s. Sugar production increased when the country got involved in World War II because the military used it to make bombs. By the 1950s, local farmers turned to corn to make a profit.

But sugar cane never went away.

“If you depend on one crop and it fails, you’re out,” Ivy says.

In 1976, three of Ivy’s sons—Rodney, Rudy and John Foret—and his son-in-law, Teddy Dufrene, purchased his share of the sugar cane business. They welcomed him to remain part of the operation, so he continued to work as a laborer until 1998. That’s when they made the decision to implement the combine system, which cuts and loads the cane into a large truck without the back-breaking manual labor the job required before.

The combines ease the workload, but the new machinery hasn’t changed how the men work. They meet around 5 a.m. to make a game plan for the rest of the day. Together, the farmers discuss field strategy and start on their designated tasks, knowing that an obstacle can present itself at any time.

“We don’t look at the clock,” Rudy says. “It’s seven days a week until we finish the harvest. We’re married to our crop for half a year or better.”

The combine becomes a home away from home, and a farmer’s
commitment to his land keeps the agricultural marriage healthy. It’s work that puts food on the table for their families at home.

“I start off with nothing and end up with too much to do by 7 a.m.,” Rodney says. “There are no two years alike. What worked this year
possibly won’t work next year.”

It’s that inconsistency that keeps Foret Farms planning ahead to help the operation run as smoothly as possible. Each man plays a specific role in getting the sugar from the field to the mill, a task that hasn’t always been easy.

The farmers once watched the price of sugar drop to 10 cents per pound, adding to the crop’s instability. And sugar cane growers face the constant threat of hurricanes, which devastate even the healthiest stalks and leave little left to harvest. The men have sometimes struggled to make ends meet, so their wives have embraced other job fields, like education, to help cover the bills.

Through the hardships, the Forets survived and plowed ahead. Farming was work that they knew well, so they stuck to it.

“I always had farming in the back of my mind,” Teddy says. “I’m not the type of person to sit at a desk. I like being outside.”

John and his son, Steven Foret, work on a tractor as the sun’s fierce rays beam off the searing metal. They don’t seem to mind the heat— the unforgiving elements are part of their job description. In dark pants the men work feverishly, as if racing against a clock. Last year, the crew planted 500 acres of sugar cane in 17 days. They’re doing their part to make sure the work doesn’t get behind.

“It’s carrying on where our forefathers left off,” Steven says.

But planting is just the beginning.

“A third of what you see standing doesn’t go the mill,” Rudy says.
“It goes back into the ground.”

The harvested sugar eventually makes its way to the Domino Sugar refinery in Chalmette. It doesn’t stop there. The sweet flavor may eventually melt in your mouth, along with the other ingredients in M&M’s, the popular chocolate-coated candies. Rudy says the candies exclusively use Louisiana-grown sugar.

“No one can match the flavor,” Ivy says. “The good Lord does that.”

Rodney grabs a blue handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his brow. The farm’s bookkeeper and decision maker says a sugar cane farmer needs to be flexible—able to cope with unexpected challenges presented every day on the job.

He doesn’t worry as much as he used to.

When it comes to dodging unpredictable hurricanes, Rodney now boards up his windows and deals with the crop’s fate when he gets home. The crop that survives gets harvested and sent to the mill.

Then the whole process starts over again.

“We commit to the farm for six months,” John says. “You have five or six months to do honey-do jobs.”

That’s how the men at Foret Farms have balanced the business and their families through five generations. It’s hard work, but the time and effort keeps food on the table and makes biting into a handful of sweet M&M’s worth it.

“My dad always said, ‘Work never killed a man,’” Rudy says. “Sweating is healthy.” PoV