A slice of Americana

C&R Produce, a local landmark

A.J.  Rawlins shows his nephew how to weigh and price fresh okra at the family’s produce market located on busy U.S. Highway 441 in Alachua.

 

It may not take much for fruits and vegetables to go bad. Leave them out too long or wait too long to eat them, and even refrigerated they’re bound to go bad soon enough.

Unlike its fragile merchandise, one local produce stand has proven it has a long shelf life, and it’s not likely to expire any time in the foreseeable future.

Alachua's C&R Produce has become a landmark in the local community in Alachua. Anyone who has ever driven north on U.S. Highway 441 between Gainesville and High Springs is sure to have seen a somewhat awkward and disproportionate figure in overalls, waving at them, perched against the colorful sign that reads “C & R Produce,” in half-backwards, playful lettering.

A Growing History

About 28 years ago, the business started in the back of a pickup truck at that same roadside spot, selling Georgia Jet sweet potatoes, said A.J. Rawlins; the “R” of C&R.

He and his brother-in-law, Ira Cruce, co-own and operate the produce stand.

It expanded from the bed of Rawlins’ truck to a tent and picnic table, he said, and eventually into an actual structure.

It had a roof and stood about 20 feet long by about 12 feet wide, give or take. Though there were shutters on the front that could be closed down at night, there was an opening in the back with no door.

If you were to ask Rawlins if he ever had any problems with people taking advantage of the property after hours, he’d tell you there was never really any trouble, because the stand had its on special security.

“There was this old man who lived out here,” Rawlins said.  “He was a WW II veteran. The locals all knew the man, and he would usually camp out in a ditch on the other side of the road across from the produce stand.”

Back then there was a chicken wire fence that ran across the grass in front of the stand, Rawlins explained, and in the morning sometimes, the fence would be bent out of shape as if someone had tried to climb over it.

“You see, we had this couch out back where we’d take breaks,” and on the mornings when the fence was bent, there would often be a peach pit or other fruit seeds left on the ground by the couch, along with cigarette butts.”

Unfortunately, one day the old man was hit and killed by a vehicle as he was crossing the road.

Since that day, Rawlins and his family never found the fence bent again. There were no more mysterious peach pits or cigarette butts by the couch.

Rawlins said they could never be sure, but he and his family think the man would keep an eye out for them. He never took more than his nap on the couch and a piece of fruit here and there, and maybe thanks to him, neither did anyone else.

These days, Rawlins said he has his two nephews to look out for the stand; 24-year-old Kevin, and his brother 22-year-old Tim, also known as “Meatloaf” and “The Tool Man,” respectively, according to their uncle.

“They’ve been working with us since they was little tiny fellas,” he said.

Harvesting Business

Stepping into the open-air shop as it now stands, about three times the size of the original door-less structure, the smell of fresh Georgia peaches assails your senses.  Coming out of Florida’s mid-day summer sun, one might be tricked, if only for a moment, into thinking the enclosure is air-conditioned.  The tin-roofed building offers a spot of shade and a bit of relief from the afternoon heat.

The produce stand features fresh, locally grown fruits and vegetables, so inventory changes based on the season and what’s available.

Though they have come a long way from sweet potatoes in the back of his pick-up, Rawlins said he and Cruce aren’t looking to make too many more changes from where the business is now. They just want to keep it going, he said, making the little improvements they need along the way.

But there aren’t many places like C&R still around, and people like the feel of it. It’s an authentic piece of southern country life, and he said he and his family intend to keep it that way.

There aren’t many who can say their business hasn’t felt the effects of the nation’s economic slump, and Rawlins is no exception.

The price of gas has taken away some business, he said, because customers who used to go out of their way to buy their produce from him can no longer afford to drive out to the stand.

And it’s unbelievable how much things cost now, he added.

“Now I sell peas for $21 a bushel. I used to sell them for $8.”

He said he’s not too worried, though, about the possibility of invading corporate giants. Sure, he might lose customers at first, but when they realize what those stores are, and what they’re selling, the customers will come back.

That’s what happened when Fresh Market opened in Gainesville, he explained.

It’s obvious that Rawlins places great importance and value on all his patrons.

Visit for a while on a Saturday afternoon and watch as customers steadily trickle in and out and listen for a familiar greeting to every female, young or old.  Whether grey-haired and stooped from the ailments of time, or skipping in while holding a parent’s hand, Rawlins will holler across the little market, “And how are you today young lady?”

He tells them all they look lovely and tells the familiar ones it’s good to see them.

And though the kind-hearted southern gentleman’s flattery is reserved for all the “young ladies,” he welcomes the male customers with just as much earnest enthusiasm, as if each were a life-long friend stopping by to catch up on life’s latest events.

He is confident the business will survive the recession as well as the potential competition of “roll-back prices,” if you will, “as long as we treat our customers good.”

“There’s some you want to bite their heads off — but the customers always have to be number one.”

Keeping it fresh and local

The land that C&R is situated on, and about 13 acres extending behind it, is home to Rawlins’ and Cruce’s entire family.

Over the past couple of weeks, Rawlins said, “Some real estate lady has been leaving me messages.”

There are developers, he said, interested in buying the family’s land. “If they want to give us what we’re asking, then it’d be for sale.” But he doubts anyone would be willing to pay that amount, and the property is not for sale.

It seems that C&R will remain a local landmark for quite some time.