It is harvest time for many communities in America, which just happens to coincide with many a celebrated day in the upcoming months. Translation: food, and lots of it (for many fortunate people). Although ingredients for dishes greatly vary among culinary cultures, there is one humble vegetable that remains steadfast in its appeal to all, the onion. In the spirit of community, State of the Re:Union intern Melissa Lee shares her story of how this mighty bulb veggie continues to work its delicious magic to bring a community together.

My summer kicked off with a twenty five pound bag of onions. I really only wanted ten, but I was talked into the bigger bag. These weren’t just any onions, Sean, the onion grower, told me. They were Walla Walla sweets, famous for being “so sweet you can eat them like an apple.” They are, in fact, the official Washington State vegetable, signed into law in 2007.  Maybe you’ve heard of them.

Onions run deep here in the Walla Walla valley. Onion growers can trace their roots back to the late 1800s when the sweet onion seed was brought from the Island of Corsica to Walla Walla by a Peter Pieri, a French soldier. The crop was cultivated by generations of Italian immigrant farmers, choosing the best from each crop to develop the next. It is the low sulfur content in the onions, as well as Walla Walla’s mild climate and rich volcanic soil that causes the sweetness. Sean’s family is one of about 30 onion growers in the Walla Walla valley, with farms ranging from two to three hundred acres, to those that are only half an acre in size.

“It’s always been part of this community. We have our wines and our colleges, but the onions were here first. And that was from back in the day when families lived off of their gardens. They called them truck gardeners back then,” said Kathy Fry-Trommald, director of marketing of the Walla Walla Sweet Onion Committee.

When it’s sweet onion season from mid-June to mid-September, little roadside onion stands like Sean’s pop up all over Walla Walla. These are usually the old-family growers, the ones that have been farming sweet onions for three or four generations. And it is not only the stands that indicate that onion harvesting has begun – it’s a community affair, culminating in the Sweet Onion Festival. Originating from the early days when farmers would help each other harvest, celebrating once they were finished, the festival eventually became an institution.

“Some of the older guys that I know remember as young kids how the families would all get together and help each other out. It was a big job, a huge job, so that was the way things were done,” said Fry-Trommald. “I think there has always been a harvest celebration once the work was done.”

This community celebration has become an official annual event; this summer’s being the 27th, though that’s just 27 since they’ve been counting. Hosting from 5,000 – 10,000 people over the weekend, vendors fill the streets with everything from onion mustard to caramel covered onions to little stuffed versions of “Sweety”, the sweet onion mascot.

Bands play on the street and chefs give demonstrations on the numerous options for preparing sweet onions. Next year’s festival may reinstate some older traditions – like producer competitions – offering a platform for farmers to show off their biggest, most pristine onions and pack houses to display boxes of extraordinarily well-packed onions. And should the trivia contest come back as well, here’s a fact to give you a leg up on the competition: On average, 32,500 pounds of onions are harvested from one acre of land.

As I spoke with Sean at his family’s roadside stand, he told me his family has been in the onion business for three generations. They invented the strain of onions that they were selling.  In fact, every family has their own strain; each onion has its own family name. Literature on the sweet onions points out that growers are not just “raising sweet onions, but cultivating a tradition.” And I can see that in the pride Sean takes in his family’s onions, to the way it still brings people out to the streets when it’s sweet onion time. Sean also gave me a few tips about onions. Try placing an onion in each corner of the cellar to keep mice away and keeping a slice of lemon in your mouth while cutting an onion to keep the tears from falling.

Here in Walla Walla, onions aren’t only something you eat, they are a part of the history of the place; part of what created the community that it is today. Here onions are something to celebrate and are part of a tradition that brings people together. As a new-comer to Walla Walla, I was glad to get to know a little more about the place through this wondrous little piece of produce, and as the cold winter approaches, all I need to do is get out some of my remaining onions to bring a little of the sweetness of summer back.

This is the season of traditions. Some will continue on, while others will begin anew. What are some ways that you will celebrate community in the upcoming weeks? What unique item or quirky tradition represents the community you call home?

State of the Re:Union’s intern Melissa Lee gives us an insight into what some people of a small town in Washington State are doing to keep their community going.

Here’s something you don’t usually hear when entering a hardware store: “We’ve got some pie over there, help yourself.”

That’s exactly what I heard when I stepped into the Waitsburg Hardware & Mercantile in Waitsburg, WA.  And there was pie indeed.  It was blueberry rhubarb and it was delicious.  There was also coffee to go along with it.  I happened to stumble into the hardware store on what is known to the locals as “pie day,” which is not so much a set day of the week, but occurs whenever someone from the community decides to bring in pie for anyone who might stop by to enjoy.

“We have some very good pie and cake makers, and sometimes we have biscuits and gravy; we have all kinds of food in here,” said John Stellwagen.  He and his wife, Marilyn, own the place since they bought the business in 2005, and it was then that it became a center where people come together.  “People want to fix something, they bring it in.  We have people that make smoked cheeses and bring them in and sometimes we barbeque, so it just gets you through the day.” According to the Web site the hardware store is “A place where the community gathers to pass the time of day and catch up on the local news.”

Waitsburg Hardware & Mercantile

I spent about a half hour in the store and in that time saw at least 10 people come in, sit down, eat some pie and chat.  Many people seemed to know each other, but I also overheard introductions being made.  Stellwagen told me it all started one fall when Waitsburg Hardware decided to hold an apple pie baking contest.  Members of the community brought in their finest but the result was a draw, everyone coming in first place.  A run-off was planned, a second round of pie eating ensued and “pie day” was born.

“We had all these people bringing in these pies and we could never quite make up our mind, so we had to have another run-off, but really it was just a huge excuse to have pie. We never did choose anyone, but we had a pie a day for weeks,” explained Stellwagen.

“Sometimes people stop in two or three times a day,” a patron who was working on his second piece of the blueberry rhubarb treat told me.

The pie and coffee wasn’t the only evidence I saw that this store serves as much more than a place to buy nails and a hammer.  Marilyn Stellwagen also runs the Black Dog Rescue Program, which finds homes for abandoned cats and dogs, placing around 250 needy animals in the past two years.  And locals have a place to strut their stuff on a community bulletin board, displaying pictures of area members and the fish they have caught, complete with labels showing names and sizes.

I had just gone in to buy some batteries, but I left with a lot more; a sense that community can form wherever there is pie and a welcoming population.  Before I walked out the door, Stellwagen told me to come back sometime soon, and I will.  I hope I happen upon biscuits and gravy day, but for now, I know where I can find some pie; sitting right next to the screwdrivers, just how I like it.

Would these type of events work in a larger town or a metropolis, or is this something that can only be utilized by smaller hamlets? Do you know of more unique tactics to get the community involved? We would love to hear about it.

Happiness is just ahead…

That’s what the flyer promises.  And I do believe it delivers, even if the happiness is fleeting.  As I make my way to the one time parking lot, now large scale outdoor art installation on the corner of 30th Street and 10th Avenue in New York City, I can hear, even from a distance, the squeals of delight of little children.  And I can see huge, brightly colored inflatable structures floating above the blue and white striped fence that surrounds the space.  The 16,000 square feet lot has been transformed by the art collective FriendsWithYou, in partnership with AOL, into “Rainbow City,” an interactive art exhibit filled with ten to forty foot air-filled sculptures on a green and white stripped floor, creating a dream-like landscape amidst the grey buildings and streets of the city.

FriendsWithYou was established in 2002 by Miami-based artists Samuel Borkson and Arturo Sandoval III, and has since created experiential installations in Berlin and Art Basel Miami.  A sign upon entering Rainbow City proclaims it is “a place of magic, luck and friendship.”  That is a big claim, but the space certainly does have an other-worldly quality, and one cannot deny that there are more smiles per person than usual in here.  The forty piece environmental installation opened in June in celebration of Section 2 of the High Line, an elevated public park created on an old freight train track.  Huge oval shaped striped balloons bob and twirl in the wind, while a kids and adults alike are encouraged to bounce around inside a smiling inflatable mushroom.  A blue and white striped character with a long nose rises above the rest, creating a funny juxtaposition with the surrounding buildings.  The pieces are designed to encourage interaction, creating a surreal landscape, intended to let children play and reconnect adults with their inner child.

“The creators are all about interacting with art, playing with it. People love it.  They want it to be here year round.  They think it’s magical,” said staff member Marc Bonanni.

A tired looking mother agreed, though I think she would have preferred if it kept her kids’ attention for longer than it did.  “It’s a nice oasis in the middle of the city, but the excitement only lasted so long,” she said.

From the people I talk to in this brightly colored exhibition, I gather it has largely been a planned destination, but I think the true fun is stumbling upon it unexpectedly, like I did; my world going from a solid grey reality to a surreal balloon filled wonderland in just a few steps.  It is already gone… being around for only a month from June 8 until July 5 this summer.  Next time I go back there, something else will be in its place, making me wonder, I am sure, if I dreamed up the whole thing.  As I leave, back into my concrete world it is with a kick in my step and a smile on my face, though it feels almost as if the whole thing could have been my imagination.  I don’t look back, just in case.