Through the midnight air, the M&M’s sailed off the seventh floor. But Lilah Byrum wasn’t tossing the red, white, and lavender candies off the hotel balcony onto the roof below. The 19-year-old from Tyner was spitting them — one after the other.

Her dad, Andrew, demonstrated and even offered pointers as she practiced rearing back her head, surging forward, and blowing out the pea-sized projectiles at the precise moment for maximum thrust.

“Mom was like, ‘Don’t you spit!’ ” she later recalled. “She wanted us to come inside.”

Pageant organizers crown the NC Watermelon Queen with a sparkling rhinestone tiara, which she’ll wear to most appearances during her yearlong reign. photograph by Bryan Regan

Byrum didn’t. She and her parents had just returned from an evening of pressing the flesh with 180 or so farmers, seed suppliers, brokers, grocery executives, and other members of the North Carolina Watermelon Association. Byrum knew she needed to get to work, so she and her dad stayed up past their bedtime, on a mission to secure her victory.

Once the sun came up, Byrum rejoined four other college-age women vying for the title of North Carolina Watermelon Queen during the association’s annual convention at the Holiday Inn Resort Lumina in Wrightsville Beach. In addition to a public speech, a private interview with judges, and two wardrobe revues, the royal prospects battled in a contest to see who could spit a watermelon seed the farthest.

Along with the usual pageant events, the royal prospects battled to see who could spit a watermelon seed the farthest.

“The queen competition is framed as a pageant, but it’s actually an internship interview that ends with a crown,” says Sandra Woodard, now in her eighth year as a judge.

Watermelon is a ripe business in North Carolina, raking in between $30 million to $50 million per year. The state usually ranks fifth or sixth in the nation in production, and each year, our farmers plant about 7,000 to 10,000 acres of watermelons, which Mark Twain ordained “chief of this world’s luxuries, king by the grace of God over all the fruits of the earth.”

The queen is the industry’s ambassador. At stake is not just a $10,000 scholarship, but a passport — all expenses paid — to visit festivals and fairs and meet everyone from mayors to awestruck school kids.

Call it a ticket to … rind.

• • •

In the summer of 1966, at a booster breakfast marking the start of the annual NC Watermelon Festival, an executive named Dan Daniel unveiled an unnaturally large specimen of the fruit — measuring 5 feet long and 3 feet high.

Frances Atkins (third from right) was crowned Wake County Watermelon Queen in 1963. Photography courtesy of State Archives of North Carolina

Daniel lifted off a piece of the rind — paper, it turned out — and out sprang the reigning NC Watermelon Queen Eleanor Brantley. According to a newspaper account, Daniel deemed her “the prettiest heart a watermelon ever had.”

The title’s history, which stretches back to at least the early 1960s, became much more sporadic until 1982. That year, Frances Bunch and her watermelon farmer and broker husband, Percy, teamed up with fellow broker Gordon Etheridge and Stetson-wearing, cigar-chomping North Carolina Agriculture Commissioner Jim Graham to “reorganize,” as Bunch says, the watermelon association — and revive the pageant.

Janet Hodge became the NC Watermelon Queen in 1967. photograph by The News & Observer collection, courtesy of the state archives of north carolina

Bunch is now 89, and as she sat serenely at the two-day convention in February, looking bright-eyed as people stopped by to see her, she recalled the auspicious words she spoke to her late husband: “The other states all have queens, their own goodwill ambassadors. We’ve got some awfully pretty girls right here, and very smart, too.”

• • •

On the second and longest day of competition, the contestants fidgeted outside the hotel ballroom waiting to deliver their formal speeches. In addition to Byrum, the four other contestants for the 2026 crown were Hannah Nixon of Edenton, Adilee Rich of Mount Olive, Morgan Simpson of Newton Grove, and Ella Rose Holley of Four Oaks, whose parents came sporting campaign buttons bearing her beaming face.

To enter the contest, all submitted a brief application along with a résumé, two letters of recommendation, a headshot, and a sample social media post. All were NC State students, and at the pageant, all seemed as nervous as sheep at shearing time, worrying if they would trip or fall walking and talking onstage.

Contestants were encouraged to think of themselves as part of “one big watermelon family.”

Earlier, reigning queen Elizabeth “Elle” Steinlage, 21, resplendent in a blue suit set, white sash, and glinting tiara, encouraged the contestants to think of themselves as being part of “one big watermelon family.”

“Just be happy, positive, and genuine,” the queen advised with honeyed certainty. But that’s easier said than done when facing a large crowd chewing on their buffet breakfasts.

Each contestant’s address hit on her ardent admiration for agriculture, passion for people-pleasing, and inveterate go-getter-ness. Sporadically, one of them flashed the kind of What am I doing here? expression you might see on a bride seized by second thoughts.

Nonetheless, there were no falls.

• • •

A few minutes after their speeches, the contestants huddled on hotel lobby couches outside a conference room awaiting their individual moment with the judges. Byrum entered the room fourth. Seated on one side of a long table, the panel encouraged her to “see us as family.” Soon, they got down to the meat of the matter: “Now, sell us a watermelon.”

Byrum plunged into it like a sunburned kid cannonballing into the deep end of the pool: “Y’all, I have the juiciest yellow-belly watermelon cut up in my refrigerator at home for me and Mom and Daddy. It only cost a couple bucks, but we’ve been eating off it for a couple days. … It’s good for your heart health and for your skin. And everyone loves clear skin.”

During her interview, Byrum told the judges she wants to educate the public on the importance of growers, packers, and shippers. “These melons don’t just appear in the store,” she said. “A lot of hard work goes into it.” photograph by Bryan Regan

The speech and interview accounted for a combined 70 percent of a contestant’s score. But the rest of the day was no less hectic. At a lunch of barbecue and berry cobbler, the contestants modeled zippy combinations of pink and green as examples of what they might wear on their melon missions.

Like Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune, they showcased items at a live auction, including a ukulele painted up as a watermelon.

For the much-anticipated seed-spitting contest, organizers rolled out a narrow red plastic mat marked from zero all the way to 30 feet. The queen contestants took their turns alongside civilians before switching over to sweep up the array of scattered seeds.

Byrum delighted onlookers with her story of her M&M escapade on the balcony.

While the spritz of spits weren’t part of the official judges’ score, the packed event was another chance for each contestant to demonstrate her knack for mixing and making friends. Byrum punched her seed a respectable 14 feet, but more importantly, she delighted onlookers with the story of her M&M escapade on the balcony.

Finally, the contestants retired to their rooms — now chaotic with discarded costumes — and prepared for the convention’s glamorous grand finale.

• • •

All weekend, Steinlage seemed to glide on an invisible chariot, gracious and preternaturally composed. But during her farewell address, just before surrendering her crown, the reigning queen broke into sobs. In the audience, mothers tilted their heads and brought their hands to their hearts as bronze-faced farmers knitted their brows in concern.

“Thank you for every watermelon cut, every mile traveled, every memory made,” Steinlage said between gusts of emotion. “This past year has changed my life.”

Wearing evening gowns, most of which once served as prom attire, the contestants watched agog from a table at the front. Some hardly touched their dinners of steak and whipped potatoes. They were too nervous. But just as Steinlage had assured them earlier, they had become thick as family, joshing through their jitters as they scrambled together from event to event.

Soon, the fast friends stood shoulder to shoulder awaiting the judges’ verdict under an arch of balloons the color of watermelons. Sharon Rogers, the diminutive dynamo who serves as mentor and queen coordinator, announced the second runner-up: Adilee Rich … The first runner-up: Morgan Simpson … and the 2026 North Carolina Watermelon Queen: Lilah Byrum!

NC Watermelon Queen runner-ups from 2025 welcome the next year’s Queen and runners-up.  photograph by Bryan Regan

As the new queen beamed and wriggled into her sash and tiara, the cheering crowd rose, enraptured. The room thundered.

“This is such a blessing,” Byrum said between instructions on whom to pose with next. “This is a God thing.”

Byrum’s parents, Andrew and Tammi, watched it all unfold from two chairs against the wall. “We didn’t realize this would all be so … big,” Andrew said. “But we always told her to try things, to get out and enjoy life.”

Nearby was their only child, the new queen, sitting at a table with an ocean view, chatting with Rogers about the whirlwind months ahead. She’d already come a long way from spitting M&M’s off her balcony. Beside them was Steinlage, the former queen. She quietly folded her 2025 sash and tucked it neatly under her tiara in front of her — a civilian again.