If you’re lucky, you live in a town with four or five people that actually care about the quality of their work. Johnny Farmer is one of these. Johnny Farmer’s hard life began on May 6, 1932, in Holly Ridge, a [bad word] in the Delta, eight miles east of Leland, Mississippi. His earliest memory is of waking up at four to build a fire for the coffee his father and older brothers consumed before heading to the fields for the day. At twelve Johnny was strong enough to plow a mule with his elders and became one of the most disposable pieces in the sharecropping system.