‘Gourd Samaritans’ helping feed the hungry : George and Imogene Cobb’s annual harvest is always in demand. The proceeds go to charity.

For as long as most folks can remember, the autumn landscape around here has been punctuated by tall poles with odd pear- and banana-shaped objects dangling from them. A closer look reveals one or two large holes drilled in the side and several smaller ones in the bottom of each doodad, allowing birds, such as the mosquito-eating purple martin, to build homes within.

Rural lot after lot is festooned with long strands of wire and the earth-colored bird condos bobbing in the breeze.

The strange sight is a direct result of the annual massive southern harvest of gourds, mostly inedible fruits grown on vines in every shape and size imaginable.

Down through history, gourds have been hollowed out and used as cups and dippers and bowls and canteens. Their time may be past for use as lowly utensils. But gourds are enjoying a new surge of interest, and not only among folks interested in mosquito abatement.

To thousands, they have come to epitomize the simplicity and inventiveness of rural American life. Crafts lovers paint designs on them or turn them into myriad folk art objects. And particularly during the holiday season, gourds are used as table and fireplace ornaments.

This development makes for many happy Southern gourd growers.

George and Imogene Cobb, for example, harvested 12,000 gourds this fall, selling them for 75 cents uncut, $1 to $1.25 with holes cut, ready to hang as bird homes. Also, George Cobb makes and sells novelty items such as Halloween lanterns and what he calls “Christmas fireballs”--pear-shaped gourds drilled with hundreds of tiny holes. Each has a light bulb inside. The retired couple donate the proceeds to a Baptist church fund to feed the hungry around the world.

Cobb may be a big gourd man around here, but he is far from alone.

In Apex, N.C., Mary Ann Rood, president of the Gourd Village Garden Club, said the Southern affinity for gathering gourds stems from a long growing season that ensures thick, long-lasting shells. “One enjoys growing things that do well,” she said.

At the same time, some people like a challenge. Rood, who used to write a gourd-growing advice column, said: “I corresponded for a while with a man who grew gourds in a pot near Hollywood and Vine.”

Rood, who makes earrings, bowls, masks, lamps and other items, said she likes gourds because they are “so various,” ranging in size from three inches to four feet tall and have been used all over the world to make everything from fighting-cricket cages in China to canteens in the south of France. “They are the buffet of the garden,” she said.

The Cobbs live in a modern brick home on U.S. highway 29 near here. Out back is a rustic garage, which houses a ’68 Chevy truck, George’s drills and other tools and thousands of recently harvested gourds, piled high. Nearby, thousands more are spread out on the ground like brown and gray mottled rocks in a dry stream bed. Here, their pulp dries out naturally, leaving the hard shells, which often are a quarter-inch thick.

George Cobb, 69, said he began growing gourds around 1979 after a friend gave him some seeds. Despite severe arthritis and a heart attack, he said he often works “from sun up to sun down,” and shows no sign of slowing down.

Seeing the purple martins enjoy their gourd homes hanging from wires apparently helps motivate him. “It’s as entertaining as a good movie to see a bird feed,” he said. “When they catch mosquitoes, they’re like a dive-bomber.”

Gourds that some of Cobb’s customers bought the other day are destined to become Santa Clauses and other craft items.

Mark O’Tuel, leader of Cub Scout Pack 28 in Hartwell, filled a bushel basket full of gourds to use as a project for his troops.

Belinda James, a hospital nurse, said she plans to make Santa Clauses for a church bazaar with the gourds she bought. “They’re natural,” she said. “Anything natural will appeal to anybody who loves nature.”

Indeed, the Cobbs said they have provided gourds to people in half the states. Many are travelers who stop in after abandoning Interstate 85 in favor of the quieter back roads. “We’ve met some of the nicest people,” said Imogene Cobb.