Dale Seaquist, a lively 92-year-old, spends his time at the apple counter of his family’s market and gift store, sharing fruity samples with visitors. His infectious energy resonates with the vibrant life of Door County’s prime, which exudes an almost surreal ambience where even the air is laced with a scent of cinnamon and healthiness. When asked the reason behind his youthful spirit, he jokes, “Eating an apple daily ensures no doctor visits, and having an onion keeps everyone distant.”
Seaquist’s orchard has been an instrumental factor in defining the present landscape of Door County. Seaquist tells the tale of his great-grandfather, Anders Sjoquist, who fled Sweden after an incident with the local sheriff involving his children’s baptism. After his relocation to Marinette, Wisconsin, Sjoquist soon realised the agricultural potential of the nearby bay. Kick-starting with apple cultivation, he eventually took on the venture of cherry farming after buying 700 cherry plants for a mere six pennies each during a visit to Sturgeon Bay.
Seaquist enlightens that there exist seven cherry-growing regions in North America, all surrounded by water bodies. Door County, encircled by Lake Michigan, is hence known as ‘Cherryland’. Seaquist believes that the survival of family businesses such as his rely on the support of the Republican Party. According to him, supplied by the family farm, 95 percent of all cherries consumed in Wisconsin are local cherries.
The age-old tradition of manual labour took a dramatic turn six decades ago with the introduction of a machine, an innovative creation of Seaquist’s. This device, conceptualised as an inverted umbrella revolving around a tree via a tractor, picked cherries just like the human hand would. Today, the machines are bigger and more efficient, shaking approximately 17 trees per minute. A team of 14 operators, along with another 80 staff, run the mechanical operations within the processing plant. Also, a robot, a hefty investment of half a million dollars, never fails work duties or tires. This massive cache of machinery, including six large trucks, 12 smaller ones, and various tractors, might seem overwhelming at times but is key to operations.
Every individual requires fuel. The survival of a business, whether you opt to spend four dollars or two dollars on fuel, hangs in the balance. The current scenario seems nearly untenable. A few years ago, under Trump’s reign, we were a self-sustaining energy state. The current administration, to our dismay, terminated our Keystone XL pipeline, leading us into this predicament. The rationality behind this action is unclear. The country seems oblivious to the fact that many farmers are in the same dire situation. There’s definitely an alternative route we can take.
Door County is a standout region in Wisconsin. Once a bastion for Republicans, it now sits on a knife-edge, constantly choosing the reigning White House in every election since 1996 and the time of Bill Clinton. A demographic predominantly made up of White people, with an average age over 50, the county resembles a well-crafted slice of the crumbling American dream. Seaquist’s business, on the facade, appears to be flourishing. But the company’s torchbearer is in alarm.
Indeed, he is. He shares the business with 16 other family members. They harvested fifteen million pounds of cherries last year, produced 80 different products and shipped them nationwide. Their seasonal closure is set for a week’s time. The Trump administration had its flaws, he was somewhat crass, but he put forward sound ideas and under his governance, we experienced the most prosperous economy in five decades. Whereas under the current administration, we are amidst the worst economic downturn in 50 years. One visit to the petrol station or supermarket should be sufficient to discern that a change is critical.
That’s the sentiment echoed by half of Door County’s electorate, a region that boasts a 30,000 strong population.
A 60-minute scenic drive via the dreamlike Highway 42 involves travelling on a single lane, navigating winding corners, each bend offering a picturesque view. This drive escorts you from Sturgeon Bay to the quaint “top o’ the thumb”, which is north of the county and home to a ferry port opposite Michigan. The journey resembles travelling through an idyllic postcard presenting a serene American countryside scene – tidy wheat fields, scarlet barns, copper trees, vineyards and quaint shops, as well as historic inns, where you can witness tourists savouring hot ciders and the early sunset.
Nestled between two coasts, lies a charming sea of well-kept, elegant homes, shielded by foliage, embellished with creatively spooky adornments for the season, exuding a “Tom Ford-esque Halloween” aura. Devoid of glaring road signs and global coffee or fast-food chains, Door County remains perfectly intact, comparably preserved to the renowned Seaquist jams, showcasing a Scandinavian-American aesthetics and structural design.
The county’s charm is overwhelming, a mixture of Buddy Holly and Hans Christian Anderson’s surrealism. A drive-in theatre is also present, albeit temporarily closed for winter. It wouldn’t be shocking to uncover a poster for East of Eden, showcasing an upcoming star, James Dean.
The only element anchoring this splendid blend of legendary Americana and nature to the current year is the overabundance of Donald Trump and Kamala Harris signs spread across field boundaries and houses. Political alignment in Door County has emerged as a significant discussion, bringing it into the national limelight, underscored by its feature in a CBS programme – ‘Sixty Minutes’ considering it as the ultimate bellwether county.
The owner of a local business in Sturgeon Bay, the county’s largest town located towards the south, voiced her concerns about it becoming a hot topic, somewhat apprehensive of the consequences. Choosing to remain anonymous on account of potential repercussions, she said, “It’s a bit worrying. I’d be more vocal about our current state, but I’m scared of backlash. Post the 2016 elections, monster trucks roared through here and… they seemed so driven and aggressive, the noisy trucks. Plus, everyone in the county owns firearms!”
Identifying herself as a Wisconsinite independent instead of a staunch Democrat, she expressed her dread of a possible second term for Trump as president. Her main concern, the economy, she feels, doesn’t withstand scrutiny.
Everyone’s immediate concern is naturally the state of the economy, but it’s important to also remember the recovery progress made by other nations, an area in which we’re holding our own well. I’m prepared to spend more over the next while, as long as we can stave off an authoritarian regime. I was shocked when I heard JD Vance suggesting that control should be put on the teachings of our universities during an interview on Face the Nation. It’s a clear sign of authoritarianism and nobody seems to notice. I’m starting to wonder what the world will look like for future generations.
Discussing politics has become a topic I avoid with friends and acquaintances due to the tension it often brings. Door County is currently in the process of preparing for the quiet months. As winter approaches, local accommodations, artist’s galleries, and coffee shops are closing their doors. Winter tends to make the beauty of Door County even brighter, although it can be a challenging season to live through. Consequently, many businesses decide to close until the brighter days return.
Dale Seaquist will soon wrap up his season of apple chopping in the family owned shop. He fondly recalls his early years in the business when around 12,000 migrants would journey to County for the fruit harvest. The Seaquist farm would welcome approximately 20 Native Americans from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. He remembers how they would enjoy camping by the lake, returning year after year. A photograph of Dale and one of the migrant workers, Johnny Boy Sands, hangs at the front of the shop, a reminder of those days. The migrant workers were content and so were the farmers. However, once the government implemented regulations that required providing housing for the migrants, the dynamic changed. Despite making accommodations available, the migrants preferred to camp by the lake and they eventually stopped coming.
This tale vividly portrays the age-old gripe with federal intrusion in local enterprises that seems to satisfy no one. Signifying an epitome of warmth and ease, this part of Wisconsin is truly unique. However, apprehension over the upcoming events of November 5th is quite palpable. As I prepare to depart from Seaquist’s, Dale recites his cherished extract from the holy scripture – Proverbs chapter 3, verses 5 and 6: “Have faith in the Lord with all your heart and not your own perception; submit to Him in all your actions, and He will guide your path.”
Seaquist confirms, “I find it incredibly precise.” He adds, “I wish this way of life could be adopted by all, this could spark a spiritual awakening that would help restore some of our nation’s glory.”
Seaquist’s farm store is a testimony to the immigrant tale. But Dale, born in the year of FDR’s sweeping victory over Herbert Hoover, is more concerned about his country’s welfare than ever before.
“Yes, indeed,” he says, his customary joviality fades momentarily.
He continues dismally, “The divisiveness, the prevalent mindset… I truly believe the malevolent forces in this country can be traced back to the Satanists. Until the return of Christ, I fear nothing will change. Upon his return, he will rectify all this folly, turning it into a place of wonder for a millennium.”