by Wesley Harris
Drive the back roads of Lincoln Parish and you can still catch glimpses of its agricultural past—an old barn leaning into the wind, a rusting tractor half hidden in the weeds, a stretch of open field where terracing still protects the land from erosion.
But Lincoln Parish has never been like the parishes to the east, where the flat lands of the Delta stretch out in wide, uniform fields of soybeans, sorghum, and cotton. Here, the terrain is more varied, the soil less uniform, and farming has always required a different kind of approach.
Some would argue Lincoln Parish is no longer an agricultural-oriented parish at all.
Granted, Lincoln Parish is not a typical farming community. That landscape is no longer as agriculture does not stand still. From cotton and peanuts to peaches and now poultry and timber, each generation has worked the same land in a different way.
Cotton once ruled Lincoln Parish, as it did most of Louisiana and the South. Farmers grew corn for the livestock, vegetables to feed the family, and cotton for cash. In the early 20th century, cotton covered the landscape, anchoring the local economy and shaping daily life. Mule teams pulled plows through the parish’s red clay soil, and entire families worked from sunup to sundown to bring in a crop.
During World War II when men left to serve their country, Ruston businesses closed early so clerks and storekeepers could go work the cotton to relieve the labor shortage.
Not every acre was planted in cotton. Foreseeing the futility of continuing decades of planting on worn-out soil, farmers tried other crops as well, including peanuts, which for a time became part of the mix. Though never dominant, peanuts reflected a period when growers were searching for alternatives—testing what the soil would support and what the market might reward.
Then came peaches.
For decades, Lincoln Parish became known for its orchards. In the summer months, the harvest brought both activity and identity, eventually giving rise to what is now the Louisiana Peach Festival in Ruston. The festival remains a point of pride, a reminder of a time when peaches were more than a symbol—they were a livelihood.
But peach farming was never easy, and over time, it became harder. Trees require constant attention and must be replanted as they age. A late frost can erase an entire season overnight. In more recent years, growers faced the loss of a commonly used pesticide that controlled a fungus destructive to peach trees. Following its ban by the Environmental Protection Agency, maintaining healthy orchards became a frustrating gesture.
One by one, growers stepped away.
The change can still be seen. The Peach Festival continues, but has been whittled down to a single day from a celebration that once stretched across two weeks. And in a quiet irony, many of the peaches featured each year are shipped in from outside the parish.
As peaches declined, those who work the land adapted again.
Today, poultry houses line rural roads where row crops and orchards once stood. Along with a few beef cattle operations, poultry and timber have become the backbone of agriculture in Lincoln Parish.
Other pieces of the past have faded entirely. Dairy farming, once present in the parish, disappeared by the early 1980s. The milk found in local stores comes from large operations in states like Arizona and California—far removed from the pastures that once existed here.
Farming itself has changed as well. Mechanization and shifting markets have reduced the number of people needed to work the land. What once required entire families—and sometimes entire communities—can now be managed by far fewer hands.
Still, the story of agriculture in Lincoln Parish is not something confined to the past. It is written across the landscape, in fields still worked, in land left fallow, and in the steady evolution of how people make a living from it.
From peanuts and cotton to peaches and now poultry and timber, the crops have changed—but the land remains. And if history is any guide, it will continue to change with whatever comes next.
