MOTHER'S CHILDREN

Image Gallery

A twelve-year-old worm raiser changed the New York state sales tax law and proved that . . .

Kids Can, Too, Make A Difference

MOTHER feels strongly that youths can be creative "doers"; working toward more ecological and self-reliant lifestyles . . . whether their tasks be raising chickens on a farm or maintaining rooftop container gardens in the city. To support the endeavors of our often overlooked "underage" citizens, we're glad to publish well-written articles from younger children and teenagers concerning projects they've undertaken. However, we recommend that all young authors query (that is, send us a letter telling about the story you'd like to do) before writing a fullarticle. Address inquiries to Mother's Children, THE MOTHER EARTH NEWS®, P.O. Box 70, Hendersonville, North Carolina 28791.

Jody Gerard, "the Worm King, Jr."

Jody shows and sells the creatures that earned him the name "Worm King, Jr."
A copy of the law he changed hangs behind him

I raise and sell worms. My hobby is fun, earns me spending money, and lets me perform a service to the anglers in my community. That's not all, either: You see, my little bait business got me involved in a fight that actually changed the tax law of my entire state.

It all started when a neighbor named Mr. Landie offered my brother John a chance to sell worms. Mr. Landie had been running a bait stand of his own, but he was having trouble getting along with the tax department, so he wanted to quit. He decided to set John up in the business, though, figuring the tax people wouldn't bother kids . . . but little did he know how wrong he was about that!

HOW I GOT INVOLVED

Mr. Landie gave John some books on raising worms, but my brother decided to go the easy route and just dig up night crawlers and sell them. Then, when he reached 13, John discovered girls and didn't want to even dig worms anymore. I was nine years old at the time and always around, so I became the bait dealer.

The only problem was that, being little for my age, I had a hard time digging the worms. I didn't like the blisters I got on my hands or the mosquitoes that tried to eat me alive. Then Mr. Landie died, and his sons gave me all his books on the worm business, so I decided to try to raise my bait supply. I had my dad send to Hugh Carter, the Worm King (in Plains, Georgia) for 1,500 red wiggler worms. (That cost me around $12.)

The wigglers weren't real big, so I put them in a half-barrel with pig manure, dirt, and lots of water until they grew to be about three inches long. By that time it was September. I sold my worms until the end of October, when Halloween took over my mind and I forgot all about them. By the time I remembered those worms, they'd all frozen stiff: