Hemp and cannabis have been growing alongside America from the very beginning, rooting themselves in our fields, our culture, and eventually our laws. Their story is one of innovation, misunderstanding, defiance, and resilience. It’s a story told by farmers, musicians, activists, and everyone from average Joes to presidents.
This is a look at how hemp and cannabis went from essential crops to outlawed plants before finally evolving into the thriving, creative, community‑driven industry we know today.
A plant that powered early industry
“Hemp is of first necessity to the wealth and protection of the country.”
—Thomas Jefferson
For centuries, hemp was one of the most important crops in North America. Early colonists grew it for rope, sails, textiles, and paper. It powered shipping, farming, and daily life. Some colonies even required farmers to grow it. Its strength, durability, and fast growth made it a renewable resource long before the term even existed.
How hemp became a target
“Penalties against possession of a drug should not be more damaging to an individual than the use of the drug itself.”
—Jimmy “Kind Bud” Carter
In the early 1900s, political pressure, racialized propaganda, and economic interests converged to reshape public perception of cannabis. Newspapers ran sensational stories linking “marihuana” to crime, often targeting Mexican and Black communities. Films like Reefer Madness turned fear into entertainment.
At the same time, cannabis was becoming deeply woven into American culture, especially through jazz. It was part of jam sessions, late‑night clubs, and the improvisational spirit of the era. The federal government knew this, and they used it.
Harry Anslinger, the first commissioner of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics, explicitly targeted jazz musicians, claiming the music itself was “satanic” and fueled by cannabis. His memos singled out Black performers, describing them in racist terms and pushing for their arrest. Billie Holiday was harassed for years. Cab Calloway was surveilled. Duke Ellington’s band was routinely searched.
But they couldn’t snuff out the vibes. Louis Armstrong put it this way: “It makes you forget all the bad things that happen to a Negro. It makes you feel wanted, and when you're with another tea smoker, it makes you feel a special kinship.”
The machinery of criminalization
The Marihuana Tax Act of 1937 blurred the line between hemp and psychoactive cannabis, effectively criminalizing both. Hemp’s industrial uses were overshadowed by fear‑driven messaging. A plant that once supported entire industries was suddenly treated as a threat.
By the 1970s, the Controlled Substances Act classified all cannabis (hemp included) as a Schedule I substance. This wasn’t just bad policy. It was a turning point that fueled decades of over‑policing and mass incarceration.
Between 1980 and 2010, more than 15 million Americans were arrested for cannabis offenses. Black Americans were nearly four times more likely to be arrested than white Americans, despite similar usage rates. Families were separated. Communities were destabilized. And generations were negatively affected.
The so-called War on Drugs didn’t curb cannabis use. It didn’t make communities safer. It didn’t solve addiction. What it did do was create one of the most far‑reaching and racially disproportionate systems of criminalization in modern American history.
Counterculture, creativity, and the rise of recreational cannabis
“Marijuana is not a drug. Marijuana is a flower. God put it here.”
—Willie Nelson
Even as hemp disappeared from fields, cannabis found a new home in American culture. In the ‘60s and ‘70s, it became a symbol of creativity, resistance, and community. Musicians, artists, and activists embraced it as part of a broader cultural shift.
In 1969, astronomer (and known turtleneck enthusiast) Carl Sagan felt he had to write under a pseudonym (“Mr. X”) to say what needed saying: “The illegality of cannabis is outrageous… an impediment to full utilization of a drug which helps produce the serenity and insight, sensitivity and fellowship so desperately needed in this increasingly mad and dangerous world.”
In spite of it all, underground growers continued to develop new strains and cultivation techniques while cannabis became a shared language for artists and communities pushing back against the status quo.
Hemp’s big comeback
After decades of prohibition, hemp began its slow return. Scientists, farmers, and environmental advocates pushed for its re‑evaluation, pointing to its potential as:
- a regenerative crop that restores soil
- a low‑input plant requiring less water and fewer chemicals
- a carbon‑capturing powerhouse
- a sustainable material for textiles, building materials, bioplastics, and more
By the time the 2018 Farm Bill legalized hemp production, the plant had become a symbol of sustainable innovation. Outlets like TIME, NPR, National Geographic, The New York Times, and Rolling Stone have all covered hemp’s return, framing it as both an economic opportunity and an environmental solution.
And with legalization came something else: the rise of hemp‑derived cannabinoids, including hemp‑derived THC. The plant that once built America was suddenly helping build a new industry.
Hemp today, and where Wyld fits in
Legalization didn’t just change access to cannabis. It changed the culture around it. Today’s cannabis landscape is shaped by craftsmanship, transparency, and a deeper curiosity about the plant itself. People want to understand things like terpenes, minor cannabinoids, and the nuances of different formats and experiences.
Edibles have evolved from homemade experiments into carefully formulated products designed with intention and consistency. Wyld exists in this new era. Our focus on real fruit, precise dosing, and terpene‑driven profiles reflects the same values that guided hemp’s earliest uses: resourcefulness, creativity, and a connection to the natural world.
And because hemp and cannabis are the same species, Wyld works with both. Some products use hemp‑derived THC from legally grown hemp plants. Others use cannabis‑derived THC from licensed cultivators. The source changes, but the intention stays the same: create consistent, thoughtful, fruit‑forward products that honor the plant’s full potential.
Just as hemp once supported early American industries, today’s cannabis and hemp industries are being shaped by people and companies committed to doing things thoughtfully. Wyld is proud to be part of that evolution— a modern expression of a plant with a long and complicated history that is a foundational part of the American story.
