Sweet and Salty Tuesdays by Debbie Emery

Hi y'all!

We have an absolutely beautiful story from a member of our caramel wrapping team. Debbie Emery has been wrapping caramels for a number of years now-- a long-time member of our community, who raised her son on-island, she's worn a lot of different hats, and now helps our team individually hand-wrap 13,000 caramels per week. She submitted this story to the San Juan County Fair this year-- it is a moving account of what caramel wrapping on Tuesdays really means to our rotating caramel crew of 18, many of whom are treasured members of our community that have lived on the island for decades. Thank you, Debbie!

There’s a special team on San Juan Island, whose members are easily identified by the words “I’m a caramel wrapper”. After years of moving around town to various commercial kitchens, the team has finally settled into their home base at San Juan Island Sea Salt.

Once a week they gather to package the caramels created the day before. The working crew changes and shifts as time goes by, but there’s always a sweet and salty mix taking shape. From time to time there’s been talk by the owners of replacing human wrappers with a machine. Most of us are at the age where this idea poses little threat. But it would be a sad day for the product. What sounds simpler and more efficient would eliminate the complexity of so many hands moving the sweet treats through the process.

Women of a certain age are prone to invisibility. You can’t really understand that feeling without experiencing it. The invisibility doesn’t come from within. It has nothing to do with how we see ourselves - but with how others don’t see us.
So why would any of us choose to gather early on a Tuesday morning, top our heads in matching white gauzy hair coverings, and cover our various individual styles with white lab coats snapped snuggly from neck to mid-thigh?
Newcomers laugh at the sea of workers who at first glance look alike. But very quickly in the process we’ve all learned to look deeper, for the tone of a voice, the sparkle of the eyes, the depth of a laugh, the telltale body movements when we walk. We actually see each other.

The volume we process in one weekly session is impressive. There are 114 caramels in each colorful purple mold, six molds per pack, and usually 18 packs per batch. That adds up to about 11,000 caramels per session. Each individual bag we fill and place within the small box for sale holds approximately 4.2 ounces, about 22 caramels each. That is close to 500 individual packages finally completed when we apply three separate labels.

The crew usually numbers between 14 and 20. A few of us met for the first time on the job, but most have known each other for years as fellow islanders. Some have raised their children together through the same daycare, preschool, elementary, middle, and high schools. Many have known each other through successful careers and volunteer stints and are now getting reacquainted through this small weekly step away from retirement.

The skin-tight white gloves we wear add to the “sameness” we first project. But once the gloves are removed for the mid-morning break the hands tell very individual stories. Many of the fingers show crooked lines, with lumps and bumps that ache at the end of our day. That’s when we’re reminded of the individual person, and the value of their hands.

Over a lifetime they’ve made livings, produced and protected families, or most likely both. They’ve touched millions of meals, grown children from conception to launch – and beyond. They’ve done countless loads of laundry, caressed lovers, carried groceries, planted gardens, tended to parents, wiped tears, and placed Band-Aids. They’ve cleaned a million surfaces and driven so many miles – often one quick trip at a time.

They’ve scrubbed pots and pans, tubs and toilets, pets and babies. They’ve written lists, love letters, stories, books, and notes and cards of congratulations, condolences, encouragement, and love. They’ve pounded keyboards and nails, changed tires, diapers, sheets, and lives. They’ve created art, sewn, knitted, made music and applauded others doing the same. Lovely hands – always in motion.

Each week we ask after someone’s spouse, grown children or grandchildren, pets, parents, and siblings. When the time feels right, we dive into personal wellbeing. We live vicariously through stories of recent trips - to far flung vacation places or just one day shopping or medical trips to the mainland. It’s a wave that washes over all of us as we sit shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip wrapping each caramel with the required precision. Some are lucky to be riding the crest of that wave, while others may just be keeping their head above life’s waters. We nod and console, and we encourage each other.

First time wrappers are quickly welcomed and absorbed into the mix. Soon they discern who is who by the voice or how a body leans into the tasks at hand. That’s when the sameness becomes animated by our individual and unique personal qualities. Nobody stays a newcomer for long.

We call ourselves wrappers, but the job entails so much more. Popping and bagging and weighing and boxing and labeling and counting and packing are all involved. Some of the workspaces are tight with bodies perched on the lines of cushion covered metal stools. Other spaces remain quietly calm at the start of the day. Conversations in one room may be opposite to those in another. Case in point was the week one room was focused on medical appointments and ailments while the adjacent room talked at length about sex.

Our leader has taught us the importance of knowing every job, including the dreaded bathroom cleaning when the day comes to an end. Competition between people our age is dulled by the learned value of teamwork. We all pick up where we see a lag or a gap. But when the timer comes out to test our wrapping speed, we compete. If not always with each other, at least for our own personal best.

Someday we probably will be replaced by that wrapping machine. Any music playing in the background then will not sound the same without a chorus of baby boomers belting out lyrics from the 60s, 70s. and 80s. The room will be missing the belly laughs, since there won’t likely be hilarious storytelling or recitation of bad jokes from that machine. And who will perk up when the 1970s hit “The Rapper” comes on, and nobody is there to yell “hey, it’s our song.”

It may sound cliché, but the human touch really does add value to any final product. Think “wrapped with intent.” Wrapped by hands that have accomplished so much in a lifetime. The world is moving so quickly these days, and there’s always something being invented that is “new and better at saving time and money”. But it’s been a gift to spend Tuesdays with humans armed with a purpose and a talent for teamwork – San Juan Island’s sweet and salty team.

A huge thank you to Debbie and our entire wrapping team for the love and joy they put into each and every caramel-- we could never do it without you!