- Mar 25, 2007
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I drove down to a funeral for a beloved uncle in Lancaster, PA on Friday. As I was driving through the back roads, I saw a lot of farms abandoned--farms that still had the stubble of last year's crop, now growing nothing but weeds, farmhouse door boarded over with some sort of notice pinned to the front, some with faded commercial real estate signs out front, some not. Tractors for sale, cheap: The tractor dealership that normally keeps no more than 10 or so tractors of each brand, now had the regular lot, the parking lot, and the back lots so full there was no room to park your truck if you wanted to stop. Mostly well-used but in good condition.
I'm not talking about a few farms here and there, I'm talking, about half of the farms over a 45-50 mile stretch of road. The other half of those farms are Amish and Mennonite-owned, and they were doing great. A few of the farms that were no longer being run by "English" (non-Amish, non-Mennonite) had been bought by the Anabaptist communities: One, that I remember being the typical corn farm about 5 years ago, had been bought by Amish and was being used to raise the most beautiful herd of 20-25 Percherons I have ever seen, either in real life or on the internet. A grain processor that used to be run by an agribusiness company had been bought and was being used collectively in the community, lots of wagons and trailers parked in front, some carriage horses "parked" in a pen nearby. But for the most part, the abandoned English farms were growing only the ratty ends of last year's corn or soy and a fine crop of jimsonweed.
At 8:15 am, I stopped at the local Mennonite-run deli for some sticky buns to bring to my brother's house, and the tiny little shop that I remembered as having two deli cases and three bakery racks, the shop that DH complained was dark and cramped and spooky, had been renovated. I mean RENOVATED. It was about four times its original size, the parking lot was expanded. That was a good thing, because the large parking lot was already half-full, even early in the morning. Imagine if Williams-Sonoma decided to do a German deli and tea & sandwich shop: gorgeous pine paneling, a zillion little gourmet things for sale, hand-made picnic hampers with matching embroidered napkins, freezer cases full of ready made potpies, and a cafe where you could have tea and sandwiches and light breakfasts. This renovation must have cost a small fortune. I could hardly believe how it had changed.
Many of my Mennonite cousins showed up at the funeral, and my cousin Maryanne and I got talking. I mentioned how her mom's place seemed to be doing well, and she said yes, they were doing so well that two of her sisters were now helping to run an additional market stand in the next town over, and one of our other cousins had now opened an actual shop where they sold her mother's products--the same cousin who, a few years ago, could only offer seasonal veggies at a small roadside shack, and now he had a whole store by the road complete with hot sandwiches and homemade soda, candies, etc. for sale.
I asked Maryanne if all the abandoned farms vs. their success was simply because when fuel prices spiked last year, the Anabaptists were saving money by not feeding diesel to a tractor. She sort of shrugged and said, "Well, yeah, I suppose that's part of it--but you know, what really helped was internet sales."
She was right, of course: Her family farm sold crafts, candy and gift baskets full of sausage, cheese, jam and crackers. The farms simply got together and figured out what were the items with the best profit margin and minimal shipping costs, and sold those on the internet. Apparently another family down the road was doing quilts and blankets.
The moral of this story, I suppose, is that monocropping == doom for small farmers, diversification and flexible marketing approaches == success and survival. I just have never seen it play out so starkly in real life. You want to know the secret of farming success, now you know.
I'm not talking about a few farms here and there, I'm talking, about half of the farms over a 45-50 mile stretch of road. The other half of those farms are Amish and Mennonite-owned, and they were doing great. A few of the farms that were no longer being run by "English" (non-Amish, non-Mennonite) had been bought by the Anabaptist communities: One, that I remember being the typical corn farm about 5 years ago, had been bought by Amish and was being used to raise the most beautiful herd of 20-25 Percherons I have ever seen, either in real life or on the internet. A grain processor that used to be run by an agribusiness company had been bought and was being used collectively in the community, lots of wagons and trailers parked in front, some carriage horses "parked" in a pen nearby. But for the most part, the abandoned English farms were growing only the ratty ends of last year's corn or soy and a fine crop of jimsonweed.
At 8:15 am, I stopped at the local Mennonite-run deli for some sticky buns to bring to my brother's house, and the tiny little shop that I remembered as having two deli cases and three bakery racks, the shop that DH complained was dark and cramped and spooky, had been renovated. I mean RENOVATED. It was about four times its original size, the parking lot was expanded. That was a good thing, because the large parking lot was already half-full, even early in the morning. Imagine if Williams-Sonoma decided to do a German deli and tea & sandwich shop: gorgeous pine paneling, a zillion little gourmet things for sale, hand-made picnic hampers with matching embroidered napkins, freezer cases full of ready made potpies, and a cafe where you could have tea and sandwiches and light breakfasts. This renovation must have cost a small fortune. I could hardly believe how it had changed.
Many of my Mennonite cousins showed up at the funeral, and my cousin Maryanne and I got talking. I mentioned how her mom's place seemed to be doing well, and she said yes, they were doing so well that two of her sisters were now helping to run an additional market stand in the next town over, and one of our other cousins had now opened an actual shop where they sold her mother's products--the same cousin who, a few years ago, could only offer seasonal veggies at a small roadside shack, and now he had a whole store by the road complete with hot sandwiches and homemade soda, candies, etc. for sale.
I asked Maryanne if all the abandoned farms vs. their success was simply because when fuel prices spiked last year, the Anabaptists were saving money by not feeding diesel to a tractor. She sort of shrugged and said, "Well, yeah, I suppose that's part of it--but you know, what really helped was internet sales."
She was right, of course: Her family farm sold crafts, candy and gift baskets full of sausage, cheese, jam and crackers. The farms simply got together and figured out what were the items with the best profit margin and minimal shipping costs, and sold those on the internet. Apparently another family down the road was doing quilts and blankets.
The moral of this story, I suppose, is that monocropping == doom for small farmers, diversification and flexible marketing approaches == success and survival. I just have never seen it play out so starkly in real life. You want to know the secret of farming success, now you know.
