Jones Harbor Farm Adventure

Growing up in the small town of Harpers Mill was about as boring as you would have expected. Still, if you discount the fact that the town had no school, meaning that the thirty kids living there had to take a hour long ride from the last pickup to the nearby town of Grover, and that there was more cows then people on any given day; the town was close to the ocean with no real public beaches, but lots of small hiking access to hidden untraveled coves perfect for hidden rendezvous. The town itself was fairly unremarkable as off the main highway there was only two roads that would take you into town and only one of them had a stoplight. That stoplight happened to lead to Main Street which divided the town in half. On its west side, was the coast and several upscale and rundown sub developments, with the east side leaving room for large spread out farms. It did have a hospital which made up the only jobs in town not directly having to do with tractors, or farming technology, and a combination police, fire, and municipal, building. Opposite that corner was where the town’s only bank, and grocery. In all, a days’ worth of chores could be accomplished by driving to one spot and just crossing the street a few time.

It also had Jones Harbor Farm. The JHF as was billed as a home for pregnant unwed teens, which claimed to bring them back into the “narrow way” of faith while at the same time teaching them the value of hard work and providing for their children by farming. It was owned by the Jones family, an elderly couple who ran the farm and took care of the girls. Senior Jones, the husband and the only way he allowed anyone to address him, was also a pastor of sorts and claimed to look after the girls spiritual side while Mama Jones looked after the medical needs as she claimed to be a midwife. The property was huge with a large portion undeveloped with woods and wild pastures of cows, goats, and pigs; while the area nearer to the house, barn and dorm were cultivated fields for growing other foods. The entire property was maintained by the women throughout their pregnancies with a steady stream of them coming in as others left after having their children. From the outside, the entire thing looked quaint and wonderful with the women learning great skills while coping with a difficult time in their lives.

In reality though, the whole place was a hell for the women living there. First, when the women got to the property, most didn’t come with their parents because they were often older then eighteen, and if they did, it was just because their parents were trying to hide the fact that they were just looking for a place to stash an embarrassing problem as they turned eighteen. A problem that the Jones family was happy to take plenty of money in order to hide. Those that saw the inside of the house, saw a pretty farmhouse with about five pregnant women living inside of it each having their own room, but in reality, that was a rouse. Those women were the good girls, the ones who submitted to whatever Senior wanted and kept themselves quiet about anything and everything. The rest of the women lived in the main dorm, a building that looked like a combination of a barn and a warehouse. Inside, the women slept on army cots thirty deep, in a large open room with little privacy. When a girl had a baby, she had to hope it happened during the day when they were awake. Otherwise, she was told to keep quiet until it happened that Mama Jones arrived, to deliver the baby. At night, the house was locked up while they slept and if there was a problem, it waited till morning, and it was this policy that eventually got them caught.

All this was found out many years after the events of this story, but I, and a group of friends who all shared my particular interest, knew it way ahead of time. In case you’re wondering, I grew up about three farms down from the JHF and maybe because of this, I developed a sexual desire for pregnant women. While I had always known that some of the women would sneak out at night, but shortly after I turned eighteen, I began to take advantage of this fact in order to satisfy my needs. The whole time, the girls were more than happy to help me out. So it was a weekend like many others when I got into my car and headed down the road to meet my friends and “see what I could see” as we put it. Once there, I had my pick of four girls who had come out or wait for others to come out.