Meet the N.J. man who's been farming tomatoes for 80-plus years

Domenick Cucinotta, 89, said this could be his last year working on his farm in Gibbstown.

In January, when 89-year-old Domenick Cucinotta planted the seeds that will become Jersey tomatoes in just a few weeks, he announced that this could be his last time planting.

"This is my last year," the lifelong farmer repeated Sunday while sitting in his trusty golf cart just outside one of his many greenhouses in Gibbstown.

But then he chuckled.

"I've been saying that for the last 10 years," Cucinotta said.

The Cucinotta farm on Memorial Avenue been in operation since the early 1900s.

Nicola Cucinotta, Domenick's father, left Italy in 1918 around the age of 18, and settled in Gibbstown.

"He bought 25 acres and a house on Broad Street," Domenick said. "He was about to lose that house, so he sold it, but kept the farm and built a two-room shack to live in."

Later, Nicola built the house that Domenick still calls home on Memorial Avenue.

When his father was 55, he developed Parkinson's Disease, and could no longer work.

That's when Domenick became a full-time farmer.

"I quit high school when I was 16," he said. "I had one horse and a barn."

Cucinotta farmed more than 100 acres of produce at the high of his farming career.

"Now we're down to 20 acres, and three and a half greenhouses," he said.

Cucinotta spends at least six hours a day in the greenhouses planting seeds, transplanting sprouts, and hand-watering every plant.

"Nothing is automatic here," he said. "It's all antique stuff."

Cucinotta's grandson Mike Cucinotta, 27,  said that his grandpop inspects each plant and waters each one individually.

"Everything is automatic now in most greenhouses," Mike said. "But he said that's not the way to go because each plant needs a different amount of water. Half of his day is spent watering everything by hand with a hose."

Mike said his grandpop inspects the soil in each tray and sprays water for between five and seven seconds, depending on how dry it looks.

"He says every plant deserves it's own attention," he said.

Domenick Cucinotta waters each plant in his greenhouses individually and by hand. (Kelly Roncace | For NJ.com)Kelly Roncace 

The greenhouse's heating system -- which Cucinotta uses in late fall and early spring -- isn't modern either.

"If it gets too cold, a bell rings and wakes him up, then he comes in here until it heats back up," Mike said.

Mike, along with his brother Domenick Cucinotta, 28 -- also Cucinotta's grandson -- have been helping out on the farm since they were just children.

While Domenick has a career in film production -- but does still help out on the farm -- Mike took what he learned on the farm and let it inspire his career choice.

"I went to college for landscape architecture," he said. "I do urban gardening in the city. I make green roofs and green walls. When my clients in Philly want plants, I come here for them."

Domenick said his brother has combined the old fashion ways of their grandpop's farm, with the modern look of urban farming.

"He comes here for the plants and creates modern green spaces," the younger Domenick said. "I think it's pretty cool how he mixes the old with the new."

Domenick Cucinotta waters each of his plants individually by hand. (Photo provided)Photo provided 

When asked why he continues to farm with his 90th birthday approaching in October and after two hip replacements, he simply said it's good for him.

"I do it for my health," he said.

But he also does it for the company.

"I enjoy the customers who come down," Cucinotta said, explaining that he still sells tomatoes, flowers, and other produce to retail and wholesale outlets throughout the area.

Cucinotta said friends and family constantly visit the farm to lend a helping hand.

"Everyone just stops by, rolls up their sleeves, and helps out," Mike said.

Cucinotta agreed, but has seen a decrease in visitors over the years.

"A lot of friends used to come here and hang out, and they all died on me," Cucinotta said.

So, while this year's crop grows, Cucinotta is sticking with his plan to retire.

"I have to stop," he said. But when asked what he would do if he didn't farm anymore, he just laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

The farm may be smaller than it was in its heyday, but with the dedication of Cucinotta and his family, the planting and harvesting will most likely continue for many years to come.