By James Bridges
It doesn’t look like what people think it does. When a grow gets shut down, the photos tell one version of the story. Plastic torn open. Rows flattened. Agents standing in place like something has been corrected. Maybe even a cup of coffee and a donut or two.
Clean. Final. “We got’em!” vibe. As if a battle had been won by the good guys. That’s not the part that hits me. Though it is the part that makes me turn away in shame.
“When a grow gets shut down, the photos tell one version of the story. The real one usually starts after the cameras move on.”
This time, I knew the guy. Through the industry and business at first, yes. But not through some loose connection.
I knew him as a farmer, a husband, and a dad. A guy trying to build something steady enough to hold his family in place. Merely trying to sustain and enjoy life a little.
He wasn’t flashy. Didn’t talk like a “player.” Didn’t carry himself like someone chasing a big score. He just loved kids, big boy toys, and growing weed. If anything, he felt like someone a step behind the pace of the industry, not because he didn’t understand it, but because he was trying to do it the long way. The honest way. Or so it seemed.
He moved his family here. That’s the part people skip over. You don’t relocate your entire life unless you believe in something. Fully believe. You believe there’s an opening. You believe there’s a path. You believe that if you put your head down and work, it might fucking work.
Oklahoma made that feel real for a while, didn’t it? The state lawmakers opened the gates and were proud to be the “wild west of weed.” They wanted that tax revenue to soar us to new heights.
Hell, maybe Oklahoma could buy its way to a mid-tier public education level by supporting it with all of the weed.
The decision makers and the people with cash to put in their pockets were chomping at the bit.
Now look.
The change didn’t happen all at once. It never does. It came in layers. Just as in warfare. Oh, how the pendulum swings.
Most people don’t see any of that. They see the end. Whatever is right in front of them. And who could blame them.
Sure, they see the post with the photos of all of the plants being taken down. The celebratory images of the brave men and women holding firearms and smiling as they pose for their friends so there would never be any doubt that they were on the side of “right.” Disgustingly, in my point of view, gazing at one another as they wonder and hope they may get the chance to stand on the podium behind their fearless leader while he assures all of his supposed supporters that they are now safe and can breathe easier.
“You don’t relocate your entire life unless you believe in something. You believe there’s a path. You believe it might actually work.”
The headline tells them what to think before they’ve even had time to process it. Then the comments come. This time it was different. As I said, I knew this one personally.
Comments flew in like:
“Shut them all down.”
“They took advantage.”
“They shouldn’t have been here.”
“They should pay the millions back.”
If it were that simple, none of this would be complicated. So I get it. People need a simple solution and that’s an easy start. But it’s a keyboard away from causing an entire family to suffer because of judgment and false information.
And for the “millions” part, these people were not millionaires or tied to any cartel as the marketing strategy and campaign created by law enforcement and their vendors would have you believe.
The other side of that coin looks different:
- Late nights spent trying to figure out new regulations
- Constant adjustments
- The knowing that one wrong step could unravel everything
- The hard and real conversations at the kitchen table about what to do next and how to stay alive
There are people in this industry who came prepared for a fight. Capital behind them and even some with legal teams. They have room to make mistakes and absorb the cost.
For the majority, I’ve run into people who came to grow something, not navigate a battlefield. They weren’t trying to outmaneuver the system. They were trying to keep up with it. That right there, my friend, is a different kind of struggle, because once the shit hits the fan, most of those people are forgotten.
After everything is done, there’s a quiet that settles in.
What just happened?
There’s an entire version of a family’s life that doesn’t exist anymore.
“When everything gets flattened into one narrative, we lose more than a few grows. We lose the people who believed there was still room to build something honest.”
I’m not here to argue that every grow is innocent. That’s not reality. But I am saying that not every story looks the way it’s being told. When we stop caring about that distinction and everything gets flattened into one narrative, we lose something bigger than a few operations or bad guys that shouldn’t be here.
We lose the people who believed in it too. You know, the ones who thought there was still room to build something honest.
Once that kind of person stops showing up, you don’t just change the industry. You change what it stands for and the people who give a damn.
