Down on the farm.

Friday I was able to revisit somewhere I have been wanting to do for quite a while.  With my camera in hand and nerves in check, I did it.

In 2016 as I was driving home one day I saw a man out cutting down his field with his John Deere farm equipment.  I pulled over on the side of the road and snapped the shot above.  As he approached me I engaged in a brief conversation and told him I took a picture of him.  He said that it was perfectly fine and told me he owned the farm down the road.  In appreciation for this shot, I printed off a copy and dropped it off at his house (he was not home).  I got a call later that day stating that “was the nicest thing anyone has done for him in a long time”.

Moving forward to 2018 I contacted him and asked if it would be possible to come to photograph him or his workers when they are cutting their corn, he happily obliged.  I got the call early last Friday that they would be cutting “in a few hours and going until dark or the rain comes”, and I was welcome to come by.

After dropping my son off at work, and my wife and I eating our weekly Friday night pizza, I ran home and grabbed my camera, then headed out to the farm.  Following his directions, I was to take a road and at the first left turn go straight and take the gravel road that goes into the field.  I did so.  Within feet of leaving the main road, I began driving up a slight hill when I noticed a huge spray truck.  The sign that I was supposed to be there, came from above.  The clouds were dark and ferocious yet a small opening allowed a few rays of the sun to harmoniously shine down on this truck.  I snagged the shot and drove on.  As I reached an opening in the field evident by the cut corn and dirt tracks left by vehicles I saw a large tractor approaching.  I young teenager jumped out and directed me towards the farmer that invited me as only people living in the country understand.  “Follow the path over a few switchbacks and he’ll be down there at the end”.  I hopped back in the car and drove on.  Listening to the equipment rumble in the distance and the crunching of the remaining corn stalks below my tires I was headed in the right direction.

Within a short distance, I found myself in the middle of a partially cut cornfield.  I saw a combine, semi-truck “hauler” and two “loaders”.  I pulled to an area I suspected would not be in the way, grabbed my camera and began to shoot.  I grabbed a few ‘money’ shots of the equipment in action.  As the storm clouds rolled in I questioned my sanity for being in the middle of a field but saw no lightning so I felt safe.  As far as I could see was the farmland.  In a matter of minutes, the combine and loaders had moved away and I was alone in this field.  Completely alone!  I felt relaxed and a bit nervous all at the same time.  I was only feet from my car, yet felt alone in the world.  Only the faint engine noise, way off in the distance, and the relaxing breeze blowing through the corn stalks kept me company.  I was so much at peace at that moment.  I looked around for a time and then the combine and loaders returned.  The clouds had darkened and looked quite ominous but provided me with a wonderful backdrop to snag some more pictures.

I called the farmer and he said “where are you” to which I replied I am out in the field.  He replied he was up at the farm and could see my car, “come on over”.  Returning to my car I enjoyed the ½ mile bumpy ride through his fields to his farm.

He invited me into his office “to get out of this heat” and there we had a long talk.  I learned his life story (he is 72 years old).  I learned about his father dying on the farm, him and his brother running the farm along with one of his son, the story of his one son dying 10 years ago on the farm when an excavator fell on him, and the fact that farms and farmers are a dying breed.  He is the first person I have heard say “I voted for Trump but he is killing us with his tariffs.  I guess I made a mistake.”  He told me, as an example, the costs he needed to break even.  “We need $4.11 a bushel of corn to break even”, he grabbed his phone and said “corn closed at $3.86 today.  What can I do, but keep fighting”.

I spent close to an hour talking to him with hearing him often saying “if I am boring you go ahead and take off, I love to ramble”.  I told him, honestly, I enjoyed talking to him and wish I could have stayed longer.   I have always found solace in listening to older people, especially those who have lived.

As mentioned I learned his family history on the farm and the fact he was a teacher for 30 years, while consecutively working on the farm, retiring from teaching at age 50 and working the farm ever since.  He said, “I’m 72 and can’t do what I used to be able, but I do what I can”.  Who can?  We discussed the farming culture in the lean years of the 1980s which I remember from my love of music and Farm Aid started by John Mellencamp and others.  I feel for these farmers.

The joy I was experiencing watching him and others work, learning about his family, and completely agreeing that “people don’t understand what farms provide”, cannot be measured.  I was invited back “anytime” and will again print my shots and take them to him.   Every picture I take means something to me, but these on this day have a special place in my soul.  I got some good shots and got great stories.

I didn’t mind at all driving off with a dusty and dirty car but I felt quite a bit of sadness to realize that farming in our country is dying.  How often do any of you think about farmers when we get a burger or buy corn or apples?  I know I don’t, or shall I say, I didn’t.  I know it comes from farms, but I am so used to going to a restaurant of grocery to get what I need without consciously correlating that people like my new friend are laboring to get it there.  Technology has advanced us so much, as evident by his super expensive farm equipment, building, etc., but have we gotten better?  In my opinion no.  We need a balance.

Like my other favorite thing to shoot (old barns), these are some of the many things that defined America and they are dying (look into the local iconic Huber’s Farm).  I hope they don’t and want to document this as much as I can photographically.  It is my passion.  I hope I am again really soon standing out in his or others fields starring across the land and realizing beauty like this can’t be experienced with technology.

Until next time,

Tim