Adam Scow stood on the edge of a strawberry farm behind Pajaro Middle School Monday morning as he held a map showing similar fields adjacent to nine schools throughout the Pajaro Valley.

Scow heads up the nonprofit group Campaign for Organic and Regenerative Agriculture (CORA). The organization works to convince growers to create a 2,500-foot organic buffer zone around schools, where toxic pesticides are not used.

“It’s been well documented that conventional berries use some of the worst pesticides, and the most toxic pesticides in the growing process,” he told a group of elected and nonprofit leaders who took part in a “pesticide reality tour” of farms adjacent to schools.

The field behind the middle school—owned by Giant Berry company in Watsonville—stands bare now, but its long, manicured rows suggest it is ready to be planted for the upcoming strawberry season.

And in Santa Cruz County, that crop is king, with 2,640 acres growing 87,570 tons in 2024, for a total of more than $218.9 million.

But that yield comes with a price. To pump out that much fruit, many farmers resort to conventional growing methods, which typically means using tons of toxic chemicals.

According to the National Cancer Institute, Santa Cruz County ranks second in California for pediatric cancer rates among children ages up to 14. Between 2017 and 2021, the county saw 22.5 cases per 100,000 children, about 38% higher than the statewide rate of 16.3.

Scow called recent efforts to require better labeling and notification by farmers when they plan to use harmful chemicals “good steps.”

But CORA is demanding more, Scow said.

“Ultimately, what solves this problem is to not use toxic pesticides,” he said. “That’s what we’re calling for.”

Among the dangerous chemicals CORA is battling is 1,3-Dichloropropene (1,3-D), commonly known by the trade name Telone. That pesticide is injected into the soil and held in place by plastic sheets commonly seen on the rows of strawberry farms.

But it often escapes and drifts into nearby communities and schools, Scow said.

And while a recent restriction prohibits it from being applied during the school day, it can linger for up to 72 hours and drift for miles, Scow said.

Chloropicrin, another toxic pesticide, is also widely used.

“These are established carcinogens,” Scow said.

In a prepared statement, a Driscoll’s spokesperson said that Driscoll’s “remains deeply committed to transparency, accountability, and the health of our neighbors.”

The spokesperson said that company representatives have met with CORA and the Center for Farmworker Families.

“These meetings provided an opportunity to listen, share information, and clarify how Driscoll’s and our independent grower partners operate in full compliance with all state and federal pesticide regulations, including oversight by the EPA and the California Department of Pesticide Regulation,” the statement says.

 The spokesperson also pointed to a public statement the company previously issued, which says that “All of Driscoll’s independent growers are required to follow regulations and the law, working with government agencies to ensure full compliance.”

Ann Lopez, a physician who runs Watsonville-based Center for Farmworker Families, said she has met many local children with cancer and leukemia, at much higher rates than in areas not near agricultural fields.

“It’s disgraceful,” she said. “It’s really murdering children.”

Joji Muramoto, a UC Santa Cruz associate professor who specializes in organic agriculture, said that it now accounts for 14% of the county’s strawberry crop, a sizable increase from the 1980s, at the dawn of the commercial organic agriculture movement.

“Nobody believed organic strawberries possible in the 1980s,” he said.

A side-by-side comparison later showed that organic farming gave about 70% of the conventional yield, making it commercially viable.

“It took almost 40 years to get here,” Muramoto said. “Slowly but surely, things are changing.”

In a field behind Ann Soldo Elementary School, Scow pointed to a field where workers were busy adjusting the plastic covers over long rows of blackberry plants.

Those crops, he said, receive doses of Telone, Chloropicrin and other toxic insecticides.

“None of these fields is organic,” Scow said.

If the first two stops were unsettling, that changed somewhat on the third, on a farm behind MacQuiddy Elementary School, where Scow noted a recent success of the effort for berry farmers to make the switch to organic farming.

One-third of the adjacent property has gone organic, and the property owners have signaled that they will transition more, Scow said.

“There’s no question about it, it’s a success story,” he said.

That shift can be a daunting one. It takes three years to fully change over to organic methods, an intensive, technical process that takes approval by state regulators, said Jessica Gonzalez, a senior policy advisor with California Certified Organic Farmers

But that transition for berry companies should happen faster, Scow said, particularly for an industry that rakes in $4.5 billion annually.

“We’re identifying about 15 fields,” he said. “We feel this is a very modest request. When we say that toxic cancer-causing pesticides are being used around our schools, there is zero exaggeration there; that’s just a fact. and we want to see that change.”

Lensman Jay Blakesberg has captured some of the most important cultural moments of bands, musicians and insulated communities of the 20th and 21st centuries. It began in 1978, when the teenager sold his first photographs of The Grateful Dead to a small newspaper in New Jersey.

Since then, Blakesberg’s photographs have been shown worldwide in galleries, and he will be in person for a special showing at the Nicely Gallery on April 3 for a meet and greet.

We wouldn’t even have a lot of our rock and roll memories if it weren’t for the photographers. Would we even remember the iconic shot of Jimi Hendrix praying (or something) over his burning guitar at the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival if it weren’t for photographer Ed Caraeff?

And while Caraeff might not be the name you associate with rock and roll photographers (his work is legion), even the names you do recognize only shoot for a brief period of their career. Blakesberg hasn’t stopped for forty years. “Even big-name people like Jim Marshall had careers that were at the most 18 years long, before they phased it out and went into the legacy phase and not shooting as much,” says Blakesberg from the road.

Blakesberg was more often sweating alongside you at concerts. Holding his own in the swaying front row as he tried to capture magic.  It’s a noble, gritty profession, and moving to the Bay Area allowed the Jersey-bred Blakesberg to see a wide array of incredible bands.

 “People didn’t have big ears the way they have them today. I remember being at a Butthole Surfers concert in the late 80s. I’m at the I-Beam in San Francisco and the guy next to me was like, what else do you shoot? Told him I’m going to shoot three Grateful Dead concerts at the Greek Theater next month and he couldn’t grasp it,” says Blakesberg.

These days, Spotify allows listeners to float between Snoop Dogg, alternative rock, punk rock, the Grateful Dead, classic rock and the Beatles. “Their breadth of fandom is much wider,” notes Blakesberg.

At his core, Blakesberg was drawn to the heady Grateful Dead scene of the 1980s, all the way to the bittersweet end of the Jerry Garcia era in 1995 and beyond. Blakesberg was a noted fixture. The long-haired tie-dyed Blakesberg was always there in the parking lot of Oakland Coliseum, and the hallways of Madison Square Garden, and in the fields of Lewiston, Maine. Like a scribe with a camera.

Sometimes, if a photographer is lucky enough to graduate from the field to stage, it’s born out of quality and perseverance.

For longtime deadhead Blakesberg, the opportunity came in 1990. “Bob Weir had a musical partner named Rob Wasserman,” says Blakesberg.

“Rob was making a record called Trios. And I was doing most of the photography for Trios. When Rob and Bob decided to start doing a duo thing called Weir Wasserman, and Wasserman’s manager, referred me to do the publicity photos. That was the first time a member of the Grateful Dead paid me money to photograph them”

For a working photographer, you need to be out in the wild, searching for the sound, style and next big thing.

In the late 1980’s, Blakesberg starting shooting Soundgarden, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, the Flaming Lips and later, Pearl Jam and Jane’s Addiction.

Blakesberg  found himself at the pivotal moment when grunge was blowing up, like a flanneled Forrest Gump.  But he was still shooting the Grateful Dead and those worlds didn’t really mix at the time.

It was in the mid-1980s that Blakesberg starting getting some assignments from Rolling Stone magazine.

 “My first assignment was U2. My next assignment, a few weeks later, was in LA with Roseanne Cash playing at the Roxy. And then the benefit in Oakland called Blues for Salvador. That was Carlos Santana, Bonnie Raitt, Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir, Boz Scaggs, and Tower of Power. I took an incredible photograph backstage of Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir, and Bill Graham.

And even though it’s a snapshot flash on camera, it’s become somewhat of an iconic photograph. I was really trying to make a living as a photographer, and I was shooting everything that I could,” Blakesberg concludes.

Jay Blakesberg will be appearing beside his work, starting at 4pm on Friday, April 3 at the Nicely Gallery, 1349 Pacific Ave, Santa Cruz. The exhibit runs March 15-June 30. Find more information at firstfridaysantacruz.com