“It’s hard to say exactly. The politics here evolved over time. Certainly, economic issues like trade and energy have affected us a lot. We need more customers to buy our products, but when the cost of fuel gets too high, we can’t make a profit.”
Dot nodded along.
“And then you’ve got Washington thinking it knows how to take care of this land better than we do. I say, this farm’s been in my family since the eighteen hundreds. You think we don’t know how to care for it?” Joe said, stopping to take a sip of iced tea. “But also, to be honest, there’s been a lot of the cultural issues that drove people to the right.”
“I agree,” Grace said. “It feels like politicians took all of us for granted all those years and just went for the city vote instead.”
Dot took it all in, making mental notes. She didn’t offer a defense of the Democrats, feeling it wouldn’t be polite. And that she didn’t know enough to be persuasive anyway. They were making some good points.
“But there’s pressure coming from all sides against us farmers now,” Joe said. “You see, when these boys were growing up, and that includes Danny here, Grace took them to the Future Farmers of America and the 4-H clubs. That helped build character. And for youngsters to learn some skills. And now, I think about the kids in those clubs today and don’t know if they’d have anywheretofarm in the future.”
“Why?” Mary asked, leaning in.
“I’ll give you an example. You see, our farm here is large by Wisconsin standards. Just over twelve hundred acres.”
“How big is that?” Harper had no idea how big an acre was.
“I’d guess it’s about the dimension of Central Park. So, a good size. Not the largest, by any means. But for this area, it’s a fair size.”
Joe gave them the short story of his great-grandfather emigrating from England to start the farm with his brothers and their wives.
“It’s a great all-American story,” Harper said. “Almost likeLittle House on the Prairie.”
“It was a bit like that in the beginning, that’s for sure. Over time, the farm grew and matured. We have good soil, too. And yet, we’re dangerously close to losing it all.” His words caught The Crew by surprise.
“Wait. How?” Dot asked.
“Well, right now we’re in a dispute with the governor’s office and the president. Don’t get me wrong, I agree with them on creating more jobs and fulfilling campaign promises to get the economy going again—heck, I’m a Republican, too. But they want to build some big manufacturing factory here, and they’ve determined that our farm, and two neighboring properties, are the best place for it.”
“Why your place?” Dot asked, listening closely. “Seems like there’s a lot of farmland out here.”
“Well, we’re just outside of town, so the utilities would be easy to hook up. They wouldn’t have to put new electric lines in. Plus, they’re claiming this so-called public-private partnership will bring three hundred manufacturing jobs to the area and the nearest housing is in Cedar Falls. They want us to sell, and they say they’re offering a fair price. And if we don’t take their offer, they’re willing to shut us down and make us move. It’s happened before. My high school buddy lost his farm in the same type of thing. Now he’s selling RVs over in Appleton.”
“But isn’t there any way to fight back?” Dot asked.
“Well, I could sue, and I’ve got a lawyer looking things over. But I’d like to solve this without having to resort to court. I’ve been in touch with the Secretary of Agriculture—I’ve known the guy for ages, and he loves farming. And farmers. At least I thought he did. Heck, he grew up on a farm. But every time I manage to get him on the phone, it seems like his hands are tied.”
Joe looked through the big picture window out toward the barn. “And once they make that determination, it’s hard to beat it back.”
“But will they up their price and make it worth it to you?” Harper asked.
“They can try. In fact, they came in a few months ago with what they think is a good deal. It’s supposedly ‘fair market value’ but they don’t consider that a lot of the value in this place is the history of it. My ancestors built all of this from scratch. They even held on during the Great Depression. I’ll be damned if I lose it to the government for what could be a boondoggle.
“Bunch of guys south of Milwaukee got burned by this same argument about a decade ago. They lost their farms to eminent domain when a foreign company said they’d start making some big TV screens. Those jobs pay well—in theory. But around when Covid struck, the company was already in decline, and they used the pandemic as an excuse to walk away. Not a single manufacturing job was ever created. It makes me so mad.” He pounded the table once to make his point. Dot flinched.
“It’s hard to believe that they didn’t learn the lesson that time,” Grace said, placing a hand on her husband’s forearm to calm him, even though she shared his anger. “Those farms would still be in business today if they hadn’t been pressured to sell.”
“So, what can you do about it?” Dot asked.
“Well, sometimes you can’t do anything. You see, both Republicans and Democrats fall for these big plans. Then they use the government power to try to buy your farm. And if you don’t want to sell, well sometimes they just take it.”
“How can they do that? This is your land!” Harper said.
“Yes, I learned about this in law school,” Mary said. “These disputes come up from time to time and get a lot of attention. It’s like David versus Goliath, and America loves to root for the underdog. But they also like new highways and sports stadiums. As I recall, the lawsuits can drag on for years and even end up at the Supreme Court.”
“Yep, that’s right. But that’s what I’m trying to avoid. I’d like to get them to back down based on the fact that we run a productive, historic farm. And I don’t want to look out onto my fields and see some big, ugly factory spewing Lord knows what into the air. I don’t want to fight with them, but I will if I have to.”
“We’re with you, Dad,” Tommy said.