The Wayback Machine: Oh, Yes We Can Can

Odds are, you’ve never given a can of corn a second thought. That’s about to change.

The canning industry was one of the most important factors in how Aberdeen became the city it is today. 

Between the railroad and the fertile farmland, not to mention waterways, it was only logical that the produce grown here would find its way to dinner tables around the country and beyond.

However, the catch was how to get the product to the people while it was still fresh, without the benefit of refrigeration. 

Although pickling and drying had been used for centuries, an entirely new means of preserving food came onto the scene in England in 1804, according Bernie Bodt, who recently discussed the area's canning history in a lecture at the Historical Society of Harford County.

With the advent of tin or steel canisters, or cans, food could be easily transported, especially for use by the military. 

These cans didn’t look like the ones we know today. They had a hole in the top about the size of a 50-cent piece, through which the food was packed into the can, and then the small lid was soldered on with lead.

The can opener, though, was not patented until 1858. During those intervening years people were left to their own devices to get to the food inside the can.

According to historical accounts, everything from knives to rocks to bayonets were employed to liberate the victuals.

When Louis Pasteur discovered in 1864 that microorganisms were responsible for the spoilage of canned foods and that heat would kill them, so-called modern canning began. 

Until then, “canning was considered black magic,” and used to be referred to as “embalming,” according to Bodt.

Enter George Washington Baker of Aberdeen. He is “credited with being the founder of the corn canning industry in Harford County,” according to Jon Harlan Livezey in “Genealogy Notes,” from Harford Historical Bulletin, No. 16, Spring 1983.

Aberdeen had the perfect climate and soil for growing corn, but unless it was enjoyed fresh, there was no market for it as it turned black in the can. Once corn was cut off the cob, the sugar began to convert to starch in a matter of minutes.

Baker is said to have commandeered the family kitchen “about the time of the Civil War” in his quest for a successful canning method, according to C. Milton Wright’s Our Harford Heritage. 

And he succeeded. In the process, he spawned an empire in Aberdeen. 

From this humble beginning, the canning industry in Harford County blossomed into a money-making way to turn agriculture and transportation into a boon for the residents.

Plus, there was the additional factor of demand for tin-canned food, as opposed to being preserved in glass jars, for feeding the troops of the Civil War as well as the settlers who headed west.

Not only did corn grow well here, but so did tomatoes and peaches. And by 1882, there were more canneries in Harford County than any other place in the country. 

In the heyday, between 1880–1927, there were 563 canneries, according to information gathered by Bodt from a map produced by BB&T Bank.

During the 1880s, peaches were the number one thing being canned, as there were between 5,000–10,000 trees on land which came to be owned by APG, before a virus killed the trees. Tomatoes took their place.

The canning houses were, by nature, seasonal and built to be functional, so they weren’t the fanciest buildings around. They were open-air and had no electricity.

Workers at the canneries were mostly local residents. However, there was no shortage of people who wanted to get out of the city of Baltimore, including, “Bohemians,” and viewed their stint at the cannery as a sort of a vacation, according to Bodt. 

The women usually took care of the produce, and the older and younger folks applied labels (there were 600 to 700 different ones in the county) and stenciled the wooden crates. 

The workers often arrived by train from east Baltimore, worked from “can’t see to can’t see” and stayed in shanty rows during the six- to eight-week season. They were provided with firewood and fresh water, and in the evenings there would be music and singing, sometimes to the point of rowdiness, Bodt relayed.

Tokens were used as payment, and they could be used at the local stores for everything the workers wanted, except alcohol.

After the canners’ contracts with the military during WWI ended, the industry in Harford County went into a decline. Many canneries folded during the Great Depression of 1929. The cost of doing business also became a factor when the packaging cost more than the product it contained. 

The last cannery in Aberdeen/Perryman was F. O. Mitchell, which folded in 1985. The last to close in Harford County was Jourdan’s in Darlington which packed its last tomato in 1999. Thus, an era ended.

Next week, we’ll find out more about the Baker family and their canning empire.