A Little Bit Like Home

The Racoons and

the Sweet Corn

The relationship between those who plant sweet corn and raccoons could politely be described as tense. Finding a sweet corn grower who has willingly invited one of the masked midnight bandits to dinner is rarer than finding a needle in a haystack. Through the years, people have tried aluminum pie pans on sticks, low-strung electric wires and other methods best left out of a family newspaper column.

Spring weather gave my neighbor, Wade, too much moisture and too many cool days to get his sweet corn planted in time for an Independence Day harvest. Maybe that delay made him more determined to protect this year’s crop. Whatever the reason, Wade took security seriously.

He started with chicken wire, placing posts close together so the fence couldn’t be stretched by any perpetrators. That discouraged rabbits and other ground critters from enjoying the tender blades of young corn. Then he added a wireless security camera so the patch could be monitored 24 hours a day. I thought he had gone too far until squirrels started pausing as they crossed the backyard.

Despite my optimism that squirrel damage would be limited, Wade added chicken wire over the top, completely encasing the crop. Eventually, with fertilizer, tilling and hand weeding, the stalks looked like something out of “Jack and the Beanstalk,” and the wire roof came off. My assistance with that project could make a column of its own.

Then, one morning, Wade stopped me as I was leaving for work.

“We should have kept the wire over the top a little longer,” Wade said. “Coons showed up last night, looked for a way in and eventually climbed the fence. They didn’t hurt anything, but they know the sweet corn is there now. Caught ’em on camera.”

Wade then shared, in a quiet voice, that he had bought an electric fence charger and planned to add wires along the bottom and top. His hushed tone implied he believed the raccoons could be listening.

The next morning, he had another update. The critters had made it past the new barriers. The ears weren’t ready, but Wade was convinced sampling was coming soon. He considered stretching electric wires across the patch or camping outside himself.

That was when I shared the secret of all secrets for keeping raccoons out of sweet corn: a radio. The steady sound of voices, I explained, would make them think someone was in the patch.

Sure enough, Wade built a box to house the radio, strung out an extension cord from his house and tuned into the crisp sound of local talk radio. The corn grew greener, the ears plumped and the kernels began to peek from the husks. We were only a few days away from fresh sweet corn!

On the expected day of harvest, Wade caught me that morning as I was pulling on my boots, ready to assist.

“No bother,” he said. “’Coons got to it. All of it. I bet there’s not a half-dozen untouched ears left.”

“What?” I asked. “How could that have happened? Did the radio quit, or did you lose electricity? What changed?”

“I changed the station,” Wade said. “I was tired of hearing the news. That’s what happened.”

“I would have thought any noise would have helped.”

“Me, too,” Wade said. Then he pulled out his cellphone. “Let me show you.”

What I saw next will forever be ingrained in my memory. There it was, on video, beginning at 3:12 in the morning. Raccoons, showing up by the dozens. They jumped above the electric line like they’d been tipped off, maneuvered around the hot wire at the top and descended into the patch. Then they began harvesting the ears. It was like the whole thing was orchestrated.

Then, they stopped their harvest and actually began to dance. Wade turned up the volume on the video, and I understood as we watched the masked critters continued dancing. There, playing on the radio, was the band King Harvest with “Dancing in the Moonlight” providing the soundtrack.

Wade’s mistake hadn’t been using a radio to scare the raccoons away. His mistake was changing the station and giving the coons something to dance to.

Tom Brand is a St. Joseph, Missouri, writer whose latest book, “You Have To Leave If You Want To Come Back,” is available at RichardsonPress.com. He now believes all sweet corn security plans should include a strict no Yacht Rock clause.