West TN Farmers' Market: Rhythms & Seasons

Written by Gabe Hart
Photographed by Mirza Babic

There’s a rhythm to this world, a give and take, an ebb and flow.

The sun rises and sets — the early light and fading dusk opening and closing our days with autonomic consistency. 

Seasons gradually appear, peak, and then recede into the next — a cyclical pattern of denouement and exposition, an ending giving way to a beginning. To borrow a line from a local artist, “The world ain’t round; it’s just repeating.”

West Tennessee is situated in the heart of the Delta, a fertile area of flat land nourished by the Mississippi River. For centuries, the river has carved its way from Minnesota to Louisiana, swelling, receding, flooding, and nourishing, the excess water seeping into the ground — an elixir for the crops that have dotted the landscape since the tribes of Native Americans cultivated the land for corn, squash, and gourds. Thousands of years later, crops from the same fields are still grown here. 

Every Saturday from April to September, farmers from across West Tennessee gather in Downtown Jackson to sell their crops and prime cuts of meat from their livestock. Tucked under a pavilion nestled between restaurants, a Starbucks, and a fitness center sits the West Tennessee Farmers’ Market, the unmistakable green emanating from the roof.

On any given day during the warm months of the south, thousands of West Tennesseans will pass under the pavilion and scan the vibrant fruits and vegetables that line the length of the market. The canary yellows of the squash, the cool greens of the watermelons, and the balance of the lightest orange and white of a ripe peach provide a kaleidoscope of color that both contrasts and complements the rich greens of the grass and trees of a West Tennessee summer. There isn’t much that exudes the energy of life quite like the experience of immersing yourself in the vitality of the Farmers’ Market. 

But for all the hyperbolic language that accurately describes the setting of 91 New Market Street on glorious, sunny Saturdays, none of it happens without the behind-the-scenes work of Bruce Bond and Ricky Dawson.

Bruce and Ricky are the engines that propel the energy that’s felt each time the Farmers’ Market is open for business, and — like the engine of a machine — their work isn’t seen by most people. 

Before directing the Farmers’ Market, Bruce knew little about it. When he was hired in 2014, however, he quickly realized its impact on the downtown area, which never would’ve occurred without the vision of former Jackson mayor Charles Farmer.

The location of the Farmers’ Market on New Market Street wasn’t always its home. Before 1991, farmers simply set up in the parking lot of the old West Jackson Baptist Church, which has since been torn down to make way for new homes and apartment buildings — a big reason why the crowds on Saturdays are so large now. Mayor Farmer saw a need for the city to invest in a space that would support farmers from all over West Tennessee. In the three decades since, the market has grown into a ceremonial Saturday event for residents in Jackson and beyond. 

“When you think about this market, most of our vendors come from West Tennessee,” Bruce said. “You got them coming from Paris, Camden, Haywood, McNairy, Hardeman County. We even have one that comes all the way from Kentucky.”

When the market is mentioned, most people think of a clear, bright Saturday morning with colors, crowds, and giant donuts; those are the hallmarks of the West Tennessee Farmers’ Market, but the purpose is a bit deeper.

Home-grown produce and free-range animals provide health benefits that far outweigh those found in processed foods. Unfortunately, most people don’t have access points for healthy alternatives. There are even people who are unable to brave the crowds on those Saturday mornings, and the market provides time and space to make sure everyone in the area has an opportunity to buy fresh food.

“We’re open Tuesday through Saturday,” Bruce explained. “Obviously, a lot of our vendors are here on Saturdays, but we have a drive-through market on Wednesdays for people who aren’t able to navigate the crowds on a Saturday. We have a lot of elderly people who want this type of food but don’t really want to fight the traffic and crowds on a Saturday morning. We’ve got to take care of them too, you know? They can pull right up to the vendor and say, ‘I need this and this, and the vendors will bring it to the car.’”

The Farmers’ Market is open year-round, not only on Saturdays during the warm months of spring and summer. Along with the weekly Saturday extravaganza during these months, the market also provides a space for community events such as Christmas in the City and the Vintage Makers Fest — events that can galvanize a community. Ricky Dawson has seen this firsthand.

“We see it as family-friendly; this is where everybody meets up. It’s where everybody brings the kids to have fun. You know, in the park, they set out and enjoy their donuts. The donut truck is one of the main attractions, but we have stuff here year-round, not just on Saturdays,” Ricky said.

Diversity is a common thread running through the market — diverse uses of the space, a diverse supply of fruits and vegetables, and diverse vendors. Diversity doesn’t happen by accident, though.

“When people request a spot, we want to make sure that we’re offering a wide array of vendors. Our only requirement is that whatever someone is selling is either handmade or hand-grown, but we also don’t want to overload the market with much of the same stuff. Baked goods is one of those where we sometimes need to be selective of how many vendors there are on a given day,” Bruce explained. “In the end, though, we want to provide a space that brings the community together.”

For Bruce and Ricky, Saturdays start early and end late, mirroring the days of the farmers who travel to Hub City each week to sell what they’ve grown, the rhythm of each keeping a steady schedule — a beginning, middle, and end. 

When the shadows start to lengthen, and the sunlight is refracted at a slightly lower angle, the harvest is done. The crowds on Saturday mornings don’t seem as big, and the vendors who pack the West Tennessee Farmers’ Market from April to September aren’t quite as plentiful; everyone can sense summer’s end. 

Like the rhythms that have guided the planters and growers in West Tennessee for centuries, the West Tennessee Farmers’ Market also has a seasonal ebb and flow — a heightened interval of colorful energy and a dormant span of rest and preparation that provides respite and renewed anticipation for the next round of sunny Saturdays in Downtown Jackson. 

“A lot of the original vendors who started in the parking lot of the old church have passed away, but there are five of that original group who still set up here every Saturday,” Bruce explained. “The connection to that original group is important. No matter how much it’s grown here, we still serve the same purpose they did almost 35 years ago. The market looks different throughout the year depending on the season, but each season serves a purpose for us.”