Grit with Grace

The Identity Trap: What You Do is Not Who You Are

Thu, 26 Feb 2026 18:56:49 GMT

I will never forget how helpless I felt on Jan. 24 when I watched my son stumble across the wrestling mat. He took two major blows to the head during a match – a sound I could hear from the top of the gym bleachers. As he struggled to orient himself, I felt like I was going to throw up.

In a matter of seconds, he was on his back convulsing with trainers at his side trying to take off his shoulder brace so he could breathe. Sweat poured off his body in a way no workout ever could have done.

I held my hand over my mouth and wailed, watching nearly 13 years of hard work, sacrifice and commitment get carried off the mat on a stretcher. I knew in my heart that this was not a “shake it off” moment as they raced him to the emergency room by ambulance.

By God’s grace, the X-ray of his neck was clear. He never lost consciousness. He answered his questions correctly. Minus the uncomfortable neck brace, within an hour, our son seemed a little drowsy, but normal. We were able to leave Loyola Hospital in Chicago later that day and made it home through the snow that night. With time and rest, he was expected to make a full recovery, but it just wasn’t enough time for his brain to heal to allow him to wrestle in his senior year state series starting a couple of days later.

As a parent, this was a pretty excruciating moment because for thousands of days, I watched this kid commit his whole heart to this sport – a three-time state qualifier who overcame a hip avulsion fracture suffered during his sophomore year during the state tournament, a car accident at the end of his junior season and a torn labrum in his shoulder just weeks after his senior season began. It seemed like all of that was enough. And yet the disappointment was not over.

If I can be honest, I’m angry. Not at anyone in particular, but I’m just angry at the way it played out for him. There is nothing worse than watching your kid hurt and not be able to fix it.

The following weekend of regionals was hard to sit through, though we absolutely wanted the best for his teammates. At church the next day, some friends we hadn’t seen in a while came up and talked to our son. I overheard him say, “Wrestling is something I do, it’s not who I am.”

Parallel Paths: From the Mat to the Ranch

Fast forward a few days to the Top Producer Summit where I listened to a powerful panel. Leaders of top companies in agriculture weighed in on a variety of thought-provoking topics, but one message stood out to me.

“All too often, we confuse what we do with who we are,” said Lamar Steiger with The 808 Ranch. “As farmers and ranchers, we are our job. It’s our identity. That was my problem as a young man.”

Steiger grew up on a dairy. High interest rates in the late 1970s made farming particularly challenging. When he was in his 20s, their family lost the dairy. After working so hard to make that operation work, Steiger took this as a deep personal failure.

“There was nothing I could do to save the dairy because outside forces were at hand. But it’s so hard for farmers and ranchers to separate that,” he said. “Looking back, I had depression for quite a while after that, but we didn’t talk about that then.”

When he was in his mid-30s, Steiger attempted suicide.

“I had to be removed totally from my working life and start completely over,” he shared. “I learned the hard way how to separate my identity from my role.”

Steiger said it wasn’t pretty, but he is grateful for how this time of his life changed him.

“When you come to the end of yourself, you look for something bigger and better. That’s worked out really good for me,” he said. “Being a rancher is cool to me, but it’s not who I am. I’m Lamar. I try my best and I fail. We have great successes and then we have some things that just don’t work out. But it’s not all my responsibility.”

There’s something so humbling about another person vulnerably sharing their story. We can learn so much from each other. All it takes is a willingness to share your story. Left unshared, our stories may only change us. But by sharing, we can help each other find our way through the very real burdens of life.

A Truth Worth Holding Onto

It’s easy to confuse your identity with what you do because it becomes such a big part of our lives. As another Shike kid closes one chapter and gets ready to start the next, I find myself confusing who I am with my role as a mom. I’m not sure what life looks like without Saturday wrestling tournaments and late nights posting photos of our wrestlers.

As I sat there at Top Producer Summit, I kept hearing my son’s voice in my head saying, “Wrestling is something I do, it’s not who I am.”

He’s only 17 and has a lot of life to live, but I’m grateful he recognizes this truth. I know there will be times when he will be tempted to measure his worth by his performance. But I believe when we get honest and share these stories, we can help one another avoid the mistake of confusing what we do with who we are.

10 Quotable Moments from The PORK Podcast

Tue, 30 Dec 2025 14:41:31 GMT

The conversations that take place on The PORK Podcast are some of the highlights of my year. I don’t take the honesty, vulnerability and wisdom shared for granted. Here are some of my favorites (there were too many to list) in case you missed them.

“If my dad was in a crowded room, he would look around for the person nobody was talking to, the person sitting by themselves. And that’s where he would go sit. He always said, ‘Everybody’s got a story, and most of them are pretty darn good.’” — Scott Hays in Episode 20, “ If the Pigs Do Well, We Do Well ”

“I don’t want my child to go through the same sort of struggles that that I went through. I want to be sure that when he grows up, he is in a world where he can have the freedom to eat whatever he wants to eat, have the freedom to go to a grocery store and have those products available when needed.” — Maria Zieba in Episode 19, “ Fighting for Certainty in Uncertain Times ”

“We don’t give up very easily, and that can cause us to have a blind spot at times. Don’t let the passion and pride that are our biggest strengths turn into a potential weakness by causing that blind spot. We’ve got to know and anticipate that a slight deviation in course is necessary at times to continue to make us sustainable. Fighting that course correction could be somebody’s downfall or take you down a path that that you weren’t expecting or intending.” — Josh Maschhoff in Episode 21, “The Next Generation of the Pork Industry”

“I remember a friend sending me this reminder: If not, he is still good. Sometimes things don’t go how we want, and even if that’s the case, I believe God works all things for his good.” — Maddie Hokanson in Episode 32, “ Focus on Your Why ”

“Don’t be afraid to be the only person like yourself in the room.” — Lori Stevermer in Episode 16, “ Don’t Be Afraid to Be You ”

“If you’ve ever watched Yellowstone, that show creeped me out,” Wiley says. “When I saw the family dynamic portrayed, it made me uncomfortable. We can have our disagreements. But, as a family, you better have each other’s backs out in the community, especially in the business we’re in.” — Todd Wiley in Episode 34, “ Avoid Yellowstone Drama When Transferring the Family Farm ”

“Live in the moment because it goes by incredibly fast. People always say that. But when it’s 100 degrees and you’re 13 years old, you’re probably not thinking about how it’s going to all come to an end someday, so you might take things for granted or not truly appreciate those moments. Take advantage of every moment when you’re at a show.” — Olivia Shike in Episode 27, “ Livestock, Leadership and the Next Generation ”

“I always felt like I had to take calculated risks in judging. I was willing to give up a point here or there to try to score big. I think that it’s probably the entrepreneurial R&D piece of me. I think in life, when you’re chasing greatness, you’ve got to take some calculated risks.” — Doug Hankes in Episode 14, “ Weighing the Odds ”

“Without her, it would have not worked at all.” — Rob Brenneman in Episode 26, “ The Gas Pedal and the Brakes ”

“What are your big things? What is most important for you as a family? Is it winning a banner? Is it developing character? Is it enjoying what you’re doing? I think it looks different for every family, but taking that time to decide what means the most for your family is key to not letting all the other stuff get in the way.” — Emily Spray in Episode 24, “ The Truth About Stock Show Moms ”

You can also subscribe to The PORK Podcast on YouTube or anywhere podcasts are found so you don’t miss an episode!

Acceptance is Key Takeaway from “Breaking Boundaries” Pig Show

Mon, 29 Jul 2024 14:19:55 GMT

For the second year, the Ohio Pork Council (OPC) helped young people shine inside the show ring at the “Breaking Boundaries” Pig Show at the Ohio State Fair. Participants between the ages of 9 and 22 with intellectual and/or developmental disabilities had the opportunity to show a pig and be in the spotlight in front of big crowds at the fair.

Each Breaking Boundaries participant was paired with their own onsite mentor, in addition to receiving assistance from youth who participate in OPC’s OH-PIGS swine exhibition program. After receiving quick lessons on how to care for, handle and show a pig, the participants participated in a special show in front of a live audience of supporters and the event’s guest judge, Ohio Department of Agriculture Director Brian Baldridge.

“When youth with disabilities are included with our mentors, they all learn about each other’s differences, enabling them to bond over something unique that they all enjoy,” Kelly Morgan, OH-PIGS coordinator, said in a release. “Acceptance becomes a part of their lives through this event that they can take with them moving forward.”

OH-PIGS mentors and show families provided the event’s show pigs in addition to offering up their personal knowledge and expertise during their time they spent with the participants.

“It’s an honor for the Ohio Pork Council to bring this event to the Ohio State Fair again after last year’s inaugural success ,” Cheryl Day, executive vice president of OPC, said in a release. “This event helps to showcase the priority that our state’s pig-farming community puts on giving back to others. Without it, most of the participants would likely not get this type of unique opportunity with pigs and mentors that helps them build their people and animal relationship skills in a safe and supportive environment.”

With even more youth participating this year, the Ohio Pork Council’s Breaking Boundaries Pig Show was an even greater success during week one of the Ohio State Fair in Columbus. Cheryl Day, Ohio Pork Council Executive Vice President (in red shirt center), was surrounded by the thrilled youth mentors and participants along with key supporters such as Ohio Department of Agriculture Director Brian Baldridge.

(Ohio Pork Council)

Read more:
Disabilities Don’t Hold Kids Back from “Breaking Boundaries” at Ohio State Fair Pig Show
‘Bucks for Bacon Buddies’ Available to Expand Iowa Youth Program
Bacon Buddies Goes Viral at the Iowa State Fair

Teenager Overcomes a Year of Loss with Faith, Family and Pigs

Tue, 21 Feb 2023 16:58:03 GMT

There’s nothing like the love of an animal to get you through hard times. Miriam King, 16, learned this lesson over and over in the past year as her family battled not one, but two wars in the midst of a global pandemic.

For this teenager from Blairsville, Ga., showing pigs has been a part of her life for the past few years. When she began attending Union County High School, after being homeschooled, she found her way into the agriculture classroom and FFA program where she uncovered a passion for showing pigs.

“I may not be the best pig showman who ever existed,” King says “but I love the drive that it gives, the friendships I have made, the things I have learned and the leadership skills I now possess.”

Showing pigs teaches so many lessons, King says. Photo provided by King family.

Needless to say, she was excited to start out the 2020 show season after purchasing a promising pig prospect from Curtis Show Pigs in Thompson, Mo.

“I decided to keep him at my house in our pig trailer until our local agriscience center was ready to house the show pigs,” she recalls. “Later that night we smelled smoke coming from outside – the sides of the trailer were bursting with flames. We think the heat lamp somehow busted, and the fire quickly spread to the shavings.”

The fire took hours to stop. She says her heart sunk with the pain her pig endured. She admits it was one of the hardest things she had encountered up to that point in her life.

A few weeks after the incident, she decided she wasn’t going to let this one thing hold her back from doing what she loves – showing pigs. She contacted Curtis Show Pigs to let them know what happened.

“We sent a new pig down to her and hoped it would heal some of the pain from such a devastating loss,” says Emily Curtis, owner of Curtis Show Pigs.

The Biggest Battle of All
The tables took another turn on the day she brought her new pig, ‘Jimmy Dean,’ home. Her father was diagnosed with acute leukemia.

“After not seeing my dad for a month and Facetime being our only communication, I was convinced God did not want me to show this year,” King says. “After much prayer, I came to the realization that we are only in the state of mind that we choose to be in.”

After a month, her father was able to come home, but every month since October 2020, they have traveled to Atlanta, about two hours away, for her father’s treatments. During their trips, they camped outside of her grandparents’ home in Atlanta.

“I wasn’t about to let cancer, COVID-19 and a new life stop me from doing what I love. So, we took the RV, the car and Jimmy Dean with us through it all,” King says.

Pulling the trailer behind the RV to King’s dad’s cancer treatments. Photo provided by King family.

When Curtis checked back in with King and learned of her father’s cancer and dedication to Jimmy Dean, she was in awe of the strength of this young woman.

“I couldn’t believe the passion and dedication this young woman had for her animal,” Curtis says. “Showing livestock takes daily dedication. Loving your family takes that to a whole new level. Fires suck. Cancer sucks worse.”

King admits 2020 was not an easy year to get through, but with daily dedication, God and a good mindset, her close-knit family overcame some pretty dark days.

“In the middle of 2020, I started my own business. I sell art, mainly animals from livestock shows and commissions,” she says. “I take a percentage of all of my proceeds and they go to support cancer research, my other proceeds go to support my livestock projects.”

This past year has opened King’s eyes to a whole new path for her life. “I’d feel like a fool for not helping others overcome the battles that I once faced,” she explains.

Two weeks ago, her father’s doctor shared the amazing news that his cancer is in 100% remission and is now on a path to recovery. That same day, ironically, Jimmy Dean went to slaughter.

“I think this whole experience has impacted my family to be stronger and always look for the positive side in every situation,” she says.

And there’s no question that her connection to a pig helped pave the way and heal some of the pain from a year marked not only by loss, but by new opportunity.

More from Farm Journal’s PORK:

Fire Devastates Show Barn and State Fair Pig Prospects

San Antonio Barrow Show Winner Captures Hearts and Breaks Records

When the Unexpected Knocks: How Cancer Gave Audrey Angus Perspective

Texas Tornado Destroys Ag Shop, But Doesn’t Stop FFA Members From Helping Community

Tue, 21 Feb 2023 16:31:02 GMT

A line of storms snaked through north and central Texas on Monday, resulting in several tornadoes along the Interstate 35 corridor. About 60 miles northwest of Fort Worth, an F3 tornado touched down outside of Jacksboro at 3:45 p.m., ripping buildings to shreds, including the local high school, elementary school and ag shop.

“I felt so helpless,” says Kevin Thomas, ag teacher at Jacksboro Independent School District.

Thomas had left school to pick up his truck and trailer at his farm about 12 miles away when the tornado hit.

“I knew it hit my ag shop and there was nothing I could do,” he says. “Two co-teachers and 20 students were in the ag shop practicing for judging contests. All I could do was pray that nothing happened to them. Yes, they were capable, but my nature is to take care of things and when I couldn’t ...”

The Jacksboro High School’s ag shop was torn apart in the tornado that produced 150-mph winds, says ag teacher Kevin Thomas. Video by Kevin Thomas.

Braced for Impact

The tornado ripped off the roof the ag shop and the high school gym. The elementary school also took a major hit with 200 kids inside waiting for buses to arrive.
It’s a miracle no one was seriously injured or killed, Thomas says. Survey teams have confirmed 10 tornadoes hit the area, which might increase as the National Weather Service continues to investigate damage.

“We just didn’t have much warning,” Thomas says. “It developed quickly and was on us so fast.”

Despite the devastation this town of 4,000 experienced, Thomas says he’s grateful. All of his students that stayed after school to practice for FFA contests were safe and none of the elementary school kids or their families were hurt.

A look inside the high school gym at Jacksboro after the tornado struck. Video provided by Kevin Thomas.

The school district has relatively new buildings specially designed and geared for tornadoes, he says.

“Every building has tornado hallways built along concrete structures with emergency gates that slide in place like a bunker. We do drills to prepare us for moments like this,” Thomas adds.

Unfortunately, the ag shop wasn’t quite as equipped, and his co-teachers had to hunker down in the bathrooms with all their students. Once the storm passed and Thomas made it back to the school around 4:15 p.m., his FFA students jumped in his truck, and they headed out into their community to help people one house at a time. They passed out waters and Gatorades and comforted elderly members of their community standing outside their homes in shock.

“There were no emergency workers in sight. We had to drag trees out of roadways and there were power lines down everywhere,” he says. “I brought in my skid steer and helped move trees off houses, living rooms, etc. I just wanted to help give people a little peace of mind. We just talked and worked alongside each other and our FFA kids helped every step of the way.”

FFA members pitch in and help with clean-up after the tornado. Photo by Kevin Thomas.

A Desire to Help

To his knowledge, this is the first tornado to hit their community, or at least since he moved there in the mid-1980s.

“We’ve been through some really rough times as a community, but never a storm like this. With all the turmoil in the world, food and fuel prices, politics, I just looked up yesterday and saw good in people,” Thomas says. “No judgment. Nothing but a desire to help. When things get tough, we lay our differences aside and focus on one mission, one goal. It was about being a good human and helping your neighbor.”

A drone’s view of the damage at Jacksboro Independent School District. Video provided by Kevin Thomas.

The cost of the damage is still unknown. The school farm is wiped out. A week ago, Jacksboro FFA would have lost all the kids’ show pigs for Houston.

“We are starting a new season this week focusing on career development events,” he says. “I can’t imagine what it would have been like if this would have happened last week.

You can’t help but think there’s a man upstairs after driving through the community and seeing all the damage. How did we all make it out of this with hardly a scratch?”

More from Farm Journal’s PORK:

Is ‘Tornado Alley’ Expanding East?

The Day Derecho Hit Our Farm

Derecho Forces Evacuation of 25,000 Pigs After Winds Rip Barns Apart

Champion Steer Sells For $1 Million in Houston

The Night the Fire Took the Farm

Speechless: The Call That Saved One Hog Producer’s Farm

Our Derecho Story: The Trees Saved Our Pigs

How Tosh Farms Is Equipping an Unlikely Source of Employees In the Sow Barn

Thu, 02 Feb 2023 21:59:14 GMT

Estimated reading time: 14 minutes, 27 seconds.

Drug addicts. Drunks. Disappointments. By the world’s standards, they looked like an unlikely group of employees to bring into a sow barn. But to Jimmy Tosh, owner of Tosh Farms in Henry, Tenn. , they looked like a group of women who could use a second chance.

Full of questions and doubt, Tosh eventually said yes to Dana Bowden, now the West Regional Director for Hope Center Ministries , when she approached Tosh Farms to join forces with their long-term rehabilitation recovery program .

Bowden knows all too well the challenges the women in the program are facing. When she was 39 years old, she was arrested twice in one day for drug possession—prescription pain pills. She went to Hope Center Ministries in McEwen, Tenn., where she graduated eight months later from the program. She stayed with the ministry and worked her way up into a director role and helped start the Hope Center Ministries program in Paris, Tenn.

“I feel like God called me to use what I’ve been through for a higher purpose—to help other addicts get back on their feet and give them a second chance at life,” Bowden says. “I want them to know they are loved. Many of these women have been told their whole life that they are of little or no value.”

Hope Center Ministries gives women a chance to start over through a program that includes counseling, vocational training and tough love.

After Bowden made several visits to the farm, Jay Oliver, director of livestock productions for Tosh Farms, agreed to take two women at the farm.

“Initially it was somewhat selfish on our part, because we really needed the labor. It worked out well for us at a time we were short-handed. It has grown into something far greater than we ever imagined,” Oliver says.

A No-Judgment Sow Barn

When Oliver first told Amy Halbrook, barn manager at Tosh Farms’ Crutchfield sow unit, about the addition to her team, he said they needed to give it a little time at first.

“We all wanted to give it a shot,” Halbrook says. “I thought to myself, ‘Human nature says I don’t know this person, but if I know their background coming in, there is a possibility to pass judgment.’ I decided these girls were going to come in with a clean slate so there would be no pre-judgment in our culture here.”

From day one, Halbrook and Oliver made it clear they would not be prying into anyone’s past and the women would not be treated differently than other employees. However, they did have some special rules to enforce as part of the rehab program.

“The women can’t use somebody else’s cell phone and you can’t bring them cigarettes,” Oliver explains. “Even though we want to treat them like others on the team, there were a few exceptions.”

That approach worked well with the first two women who came through the program. After time, both women opened up and shared their stories. Lidia Williams, one of those women, has been with Tosh Farms ever since.

“Because they came in with a clean state, there was never a single ounce of judgment in this barn to start with. We’ve carried that culture with every single person that comes in to work here,” Halbrook says.

Meet Lidia

An understanding of Lidia Williams’ journey requires going back to the beginning. Born and raised in Paris, Tenn., Williams grew up in a good family. Although life wasn’t perfect, she knew she was loved and cared for by both of her parents who shared split custody. At the age of 13, her world crashed around her when her father died by suicide.
“I became really depressed and aggressive. No one knew what to do with me,” says Lidia, now 23. “I didn’t know what to do with me. I just wanted to feel something happy.”

One night, she snuck out with friends and experienced firsts that haunt her still today. She smoked weed, drank alcohol and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel miserable.

That was the start of her addiction.

In and out of rehab facilities and an arrest later, Williams found herself on a path she never dreamed she’d be on. She moved in with friends because her mother told her she couldn’t live at her home anymore until she got help.

“Some friends introduced me to crack and meth,” Williams says. “And that’s how I became really hooked.”

She went from a warm home and two jobs to being homeless without a job. That lasted for a month until she decided to go back to the church her mother raised her in.

“I knew my aunt would be there,” Williams recalls. “She’s an addict in recovery as well. I broke down and told her what was going on. The next day, I enrolled in Hope Center’s program.”

Meet Daniela

Williams’ story shares common threads with Daniela Lemus, another program participant. Lemus grew up in Los Angeles where she also had a good childhood. Her parents sacrificed a lot for her and moved back to El Salvador once Lemus graduated from high school. She lived with her sister until she was 18 and started working and going to college.

“Everything was going well,” Lemus says. “Unfortunately, when I hit my early 30s, I started drinking a lot. It became an addiction, but I was in denial. Long story short, my dad passed away and I had one of my hardest relapses ever. I decided I didn’t want to live that way anymore.”

Her sister, who lives in Oxford, Miss., told her about Hope Center Ministries. She bought Lemus a plane ticket and paid for a one-year program.

“And all she said to me was, ‘Everything’s paid for. All you’ve got to do is get on that plane.’ I am so glad I did,” Lemus says.

An Eye-Opening Introduction to Farming

When Lemus arrived, she admits the very last place she wanted to train was Tosh Farms. The other options were in a thrift store or factory.

“I said, ‘There is no way I’m going there. They better not send me there,’” Lemus says. “When they told me I was going to Tosh, I thought, ‘Oh God, you are really testing me right now.’ I walked in on my first day and saw a sow. I couldn’t help but think that was one big pig. I’m only 4’11”—I couldn’t imagine how I’d be able to work with those sows.”

But she learned fast. She fell in love with her assignment fostering piglets and admits the opportunity changed her.

Meanwhile, Williams loved animals, and was excited when she found out she was going to work for Tosh Farms as one of the first two program participants. However, her initial impression was unforgettable.

“It stunk so bad,” Williams says. “I thought, ‘What did I get into?’ I stood at the front entrance with the other participant while the Tosh crew made introductions. We were like, ‘Can we just go smoke a cigarette quick? We’ll be back in just a second.’ We were so nervous.”

That was also the first day she’d ever seen a grown pig. Her only knowledge of pigs were piglets she’d seen in a book.

“I didn’t know they could be that big. I was shocked,” Williams says.

Halbrook affectionately calls Williams her firstborn because she was part of that inaugural experience and is still with her today. Now, with over 35 women who have completed the vocational training program at Tosh Farms (many of which have become full-time employees), Halbrook admits it’s been an experience far greater than she could have imagined.

“Knowledge is power only if you share it,” Halbrook says. “If I’m building these young women up, regardless of teaching them about pigs or not, you can see their confidence increase. You can see how it changes them as a person inside and outside of the barn just by how they are treated daily. We spend a lot of time together at this farm. Half of your job is loving what you do, and the other half is loving who you work with.”

Creating a Work Culture That Lasts

The women are scattered in various roles throughout the Crutchfield farm, which is home to 8,500 sows and 33 employees. The farm sits on about 8 acres. Jobs include training in open-pen gestation, breeding pigs, checking heat, farrowing room monitoring and midwifing.

“The girls are engaged in literally every aspect of this farm you can think of,” Halbrook says. “I like to change it up and help them learn new things, see the barn as a whole rather than a certain department. I get bored doing the same thing day-in and day-out. Moving them around allows them to learn more.”

She focuses on consistency and reminds everyone, including herself, they are in a people barn.

“I prioritize daily face-to-face interaction with each person on my team,” Halbrook says.

Training people is her favorite part of the job managing the sow farm.

“It makes life easier on department heads when you can build morale with each person first,” she says. “You can learn who is strong where and who may need more help in certain areas. When I walk out of my office into the barn, I’m the barn manager. But I’m going to work right beside you. I won’t ask you to do something that I wouldn’t do.”

Lemus admires that approach and says that was one of her favorite parts of the job too. “I enjoy helping others when I am done with my tasks,” Lemus says. “It’s always busy here and there’s always work to be done.”

Many of the assignments on a sow farm are challenging. Although there is a great sense of accomplishment, Williams says it’s not without obstacles.

“Sometimes we try as hard as we can to help the pigs, but it’s not enough. It’s hard when you can’t save them all, but are there all day trying,” Williams says. “The hours are hard sometimes, too, but it’s worth it.”

The women have a good example to follow in the barn, says Bowden, who oversees the program.

“Amy has such a big heart and truly cares about people. She wants to see people thrive, and if she can be a part of it, she will give it all she can. Even the women who have graduated and relapsed, she is right in there with them trying to get them back into treatment,” Bowden says.

Placing these women in the right culture with the right manager is essential for this relationship to work. Bowden says that’s one of the reasons the women come back every night excited about their time at the farm.

“With more than 400 employees at Tosh Farms, you may wonder how Tosh Farms makes everyone there feel like family,” Bowden says. “It’s their mentality. Yes, you need to get your assignment done, but they are there to help. They love people and it makes a difference.”

A Light in Their Eyes

Working with animals is therapeutic. Many of the women in the program are also mothers. However, due to choices they have made in their lives, Halbrook says they are not able to see their kids as much as they would like.

“When you watch these ladies with these pigs and piglets, you can see that nurturing side come through. It helps them learn to be better mothers because they can relate it all together, especially how to live a new life without that substance in there,” Halbrook says. “You can watch them grow while they are working and see that light in their eyes.”

Lemus says her time at Tosh Farms taught her responsibility and provided accountability. But most importantly, she learned an even bigger lesson.

“My time at Tosh Farms taught me to love myself again, to love others and it got me closer to God. If I were to go back to the same lifestyle, I would lose too much,” Lemus says.

Successful sow farms are close for many reasons, Halbrook says.

“We encourage our team to look out for each other to make sure things are getting done right,” she says. “They learn to depend on each other.”

Tosh Farms has an open-door policy.

“There are times the girls just need to talk,” Halbrook says. “I’m always OK with stopping to let them talk if that’s what they need. This culture draws us together because we take time to take care for each other.”

She says they don’t have to look far to see an example of that kind of commitment to caring.

“We have a perfect example to look to: Mr. Jimmy is always helping people,” Halbrook says. “Whether it’s donating pork to feed the hungry or helping one of our employees who needed to get to Texas for a chemotherapy treatment, he leads the way.”

Relapses and Recovery

Dealing with addiction is difficult at all levels. Most of the women in the Hope Center Ministries program have struggled with drug addictions that range from cold medicine to meth to heroin.

“Not every lady is successful; that’s the hardest part,” Halbrook says. “We want to set them up to be, but the reality is not everyone will be. When you know they have fallen, you do what you can. You reach out, but you’re limited on what you can do.”

She admits it breaks her heart to see them go so far and do so well and then have a fall. But she also points out sometimes falling and getting back up again is the most valuable part of the process.

Williams recalls the night she relapsed.

“I was on Amy’s night shift. I just became really depressed. I was just trying to find myself and then stuff not working out really tore me up. I had come to the barn and I was just going to leave from my shift,” Williams says.

She said she went outside and looked up at the sky and felt like God flashed back everything she had been through.

“I realized in that moment that I did not want to lose my job or anything I had gained through the experience. The only person I wanted to talk to was Amy. I called her and told her I needed help,” Williams says. “She came as soon as we got off the phone and she sat with me in my car. She was like, ‘Do we need to call Dana? Do we need to take you to the Hope Center?’ She was the person who helped me go back. She didn’t care that I needed help again. She just wanted me to get the help so I would be ok. I’m so grateful for her.”

A Fulfilling Mission

Partnering with Hope Center Ministries has been the most satisfying thing Jimmy Tosh has done in his life, both professionally and financially.

“Labor is challenging, and this program has filled a need there, but that’s minor compared to the satisfaction of helping turn lives around,” Tosh says. “A life is worth saving. Anything you can do to help save a life is very fulfilling. Being able to get workers on the farm is a big benefit, but it’s a side benefit.”

When he discovered how difficult it was for the women to return to being a full-time mom, he decided to donate a 4,800-sq.-ft. home (part of a recent farm purchase) to Hope Center Ministries for an after-care program to help with the transition.

“Our vision for the facility is that women can live there a year after they complete the program to get their finances in order,” Tosh says. “If they don’t have a high school education, they will be required to get a GED and do a financial training program while they are there.”

Tosh’s idea for the Hope House after-care program is unique, says Tonya Walker, program manager.

“Many ladies want to return home. However, returning to the same environment often causes women to go back to where they were before rehab,” she says.

The program not only helps women rebuild their lives and steward their finances, but one of the biggest benefits is the opportunity to live with their kids.

In the rehab program, children are allowed to visit, but they can’t stay, says Dana Bowden, west regional director for Hope Center Ministries.

“After graduating from the program, children are placed back with their mother — who is not only juggling recovery, but also being a new mom again and finding a job. Hope House will offer extra support during this time of their lives,” Bowden says.

Don’t Lose Hope

Training at Tosh Farms changed Lemus’ and Williams’ lives – as well as the lives of many other women.

“Never lose hope,” Lemus says. “There are always going to be people out there—if you want the help, they will give it to you. Sometimes it just comes from the people you least expected.”

Williams encourages other pork operations to consider similar programs.

“Just do it,” Williams says. “God changed my life through the people at Tosh Farms. What they are doing is saving lives—it saved mine. And it’s not just about the person in rehab. It’s moms, dads and kids who benefit when you help that one person.”

Halbrook can’t imagine her barn any other way now.

“These ladies are good people. They have a good heart and good attributes to bring to any team,” Halbrook says. “We all deserve a second chance. Don’t overlook people because of their past.”

San Antonio Barrow Show Winner Captures Hearts and Breaks Records

Thu, 02 Feb 2023 21:56:32 GMT

There wasn’t a dry eye in the barn when Samantha Nicole Iselt of Lexington, Texas, was named the exhibitor of the Grand Champion Market Barrow at the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo. On Friday, she won over hearts again when she walked her barrow into the sale ring. Iselt sold her pig for a record-breaking $157,000 and received a $10,000 scholarship.

Time stood still
The energy and commotion before the champion barrow drive was like nothing judge Brandon Yantis of Piper City, Ill., had ever experienced. People piled around the show ring in San Antonio, Texas, on Thursday for one of the most popular champion drives of the year.

Lead judge Ryan Sites of Tuttle, Okla., finished his comments on the champion barrow as Yantis made his way over to give 17-year-old Samantha, the daughter of Tobin and Fonda Iselt, a high-five and award her the coveted banner. The crowd erupted and everyone jumped to their feet to cheer.

“And then it was like time stood still,” Yantis says. “It was a moment I will never forget. The smile on the young exhibitor’s face and the tears of joy in her eyes remind you of why this all matters.”

There’s no question that Samantha’s barrow was unique and many said he was the best they’d ever seen. During the Champion Hampshire drive, Yantis told the crowd that his winner was incredibly challenging to assemble. He admits it probably wasn’t a surprise to anyone when he shook Samantha’s hand.

When there are no words
No one could deny that what helped this Hampshire show his heart out was the young girl walking beside him. Samantha’s connection to her pig was undeniable.

“I cried… watching her drive that pig all by herself,” says friend Kevin Thomas, an ag teacher of 24 years from Jacksboro, Texas. Samantha has Down Syndrome and has a helper in the ring when she shows. But she didn’t need a helper at San Antonio, Thomas says.

“She was driving the pig out of corners, transitioning from judge side to off-judge side,” he says. “The bond and the training she has done with that hog are undeniable. She stumbled and dropped her stick once and the hog still held its head up just like it did when she was touching him. That’s the bond, work ethic and repetition of that animal and [Samantha] that allowed it to perform like no other.”

For Samantha’s brother, Coby Berger, watching his sister win San Antonio was a moment that he can’t adequately put into words.

“It was absolutely crazy. I was sick to my stomach and as nervous as I could be,” Coby says. “It didn’t feel real when I watched the judge slap her hand. I will hold this in and remember it for as long as I can for the rest of my life.”

And by the look of the smile on Samantha’s face, the tears streaming from her eyes and the big waves she gave the crowd, words weren’t needed to express how she felt when she walked out of the ring with her awards.

Coby and his father, Cliff Berger, bred and raised this record-setting animal. But for those who know Coby, that was just a small part of why that win was so meaningful.

“He has dedicated his whole life to his kid sister, to the point that he hasn’t even chased his own dreams because his drive is to see her succeed,” Thomas says.
Coby says his sister has been a blessing to their family since the day she was born.

“She changed me,” he says. “We are inseparable and she’s honestly my best friend. She keeps me motivated every day. I’m so passionate about showing livestock because for her to be able to go into the ring and show like that – for 10 minutes she is just like any other kid in the ring.”

It’s about kids, not pigs
In the show industry, it’s often said that livestock projects are about making better kids. Thomas believes this is truly what showing livestock has done for Samantha.

“I’ve always felt like the pig is just a vehicle for a kid to be a good human,” Thomas says. “It’s a small bottle of time you have with your kids to teach them about life.”

Coby has been around pigs his entire life – his father used to run a commercial swine operation. At age 3, Coby began showing pigs. After high school, they started to raise more pigs for the show ring. However, Samantha didn’t start showing pigs as early as her brother did.

“At first, I didn’t think Samantha would be able to do it,” he admits. “But one day when she was about 10 years old, I asked her to walk a pig so I could look at it. Showing was just natural for her. She’s been showing ever since.”

But why pigs? With so many options of livestock to choose from, pigs are the most affordable for the average kid and is a project that all kids have a chance to succeed in.

“A lot of things have to work right – integrity of the judge, quality stock and genetics, and teachability,” Thomas adds. “All of those are variables, but every kid still has a chance.”

Showing and raising livestock reminds kids that working hard, respecting one another and doing your best goes a long way. As evidenced by the supporters standing ringside in San Antonio, showing also builds empathy, understanding and sportsmanship.

Perhaps just as importantly, showing pigs teaches kids to never give up on their dreams, Yantis adds.

For Coby, watching his sister win one of the biggest barrow shows in the world was indeed a dream come true. More than 3,000 head competed for the champion title this year. Watching his sister win was an incredible honor.

“Samantha is the nicest person you’ll ever meet. She never has a bad day and makes everyone happy,” Berger says. “She reminds me to always see the good in all things.”

More from Farm Journal’s PORK:

Unpopular County Fair Opinion

Friends Band Together to Support Youth Swine Exhibitors in Texas

Texas “Pig-Posal” Captures Hearts at San Antonio Stock Show

3 Reasons to Invest in the Future of the Pork Industry

From the Streets to the Swine Barn, Page 2

Thu, 02 Feb 2023 21:55:37 GMT

Continued from Page 1

For the Love of Pigs
When she started working at the sow farm, she had no idea where her food came from. As she learned more and more about the industry, she says she was simply amazed by it.

“Everyone I worked with cared so much about what they did and the animals they raised,” she says. “The people in agriculture are so different than other people. It’s hard to explain – they are just genuine.”

She continued to complete her college vet tech degree while working for Heimerl Farms. After she finished her internship at a vet clinic, the clinic offered her a job. She worked at the clinic and Heimerl Farms until she was offered a position as a gilt multiplication director at the farm. She oversaw 50,000 pigs and traveled throughout Ohio.

“She always made meetings fun and entertaining,” Heimerl says. “Our growers liked Gracee and enjoyed her visits to their farms. Her personality was her greatest asset. She was always a willing participant in whatever we were doing, and never hesitated to put her two cents worth in.”

Years later, when an opportunity came her way to manage the Ohio State University swine farm, Workman says she couldn’t pass up the chance to share a little of her knowledge and passion to other aspiring agriculturists while overseeing the college’s swine operation.

Her unique combination of commercial industry experience and passion is obvious in every project she takes on, says Sheila Jacobi, assistant professor of swine nutrition and immunology at Ohio State University. She also brings relatability because many students in animal sciences do not come from an agriculture background.

“Students often come to animal sciences with the goal of being a small animal veterinarian, but there are a lot of great opportunities to work with animals in food-animal production. Finding ways to relate to students who do not come from an agriculture background is a huge asset to teaching students about feeding the world,” Jacobi says. “Gracee knows this path because it is one she has traveled and there is no better teacher than someone who knows firsthand because they have traveled that path. “

Workman says it’s exciting to see students take her up on her invitation to check out the swine barn and discover what pig farming is all about.

“I’ve been there,” she says. “I can relate to how they feel – of not knowing how it all connects.”

The industry is facing a labor challenge and young leaders like Workman are needed to share these career paths.

In addition to working with students at the farm, she oversees everyday care of the pigs, farrowing, breeding and gestation. She also works with the researchers and vet students who conduct research on pigs at the farm.

Workman has also taken on many facility improvements, from improving the teaching arena at the farm for student classes to helping Jacobi develop an area of the farm to do neonatal pig nutrition research in a more controlled environment.

“The wheels can turn slow in these projects, but her perseverance has allowed for changes and improvements to occur in the year since she started. There is no task she has not met head on with the goal of improving workability of the farm for the students, staff and faculty that utilize the facility,” Jacobi adds.

Don’t Judge a Book by Its Cover
Growing up, Workman was often judged by the actions of her addict parents. In fact, kids were rarely allowed to hang out with her because of who her parents were. She hopes her story helps people see the value of giving others a chance before making assumptions.

“Overcoming obstacles in her life, Gracee kept pushing herself to learn and make herself and her situation better,” Heimerl says. “We always look for young energetic people that may want a career in hog production, so she was a perfect fit for us. At the time she began working for our farm, we had no idea that she would be a long-time employee and grow into an exceptional young woman in the process.”

Despite everything she has overcome, Workman still struggles to get through tough times. She reminds herself that “everything could be worse” and believes things happen for a reason.

“I don’t understand why one thing after another has happened in my life,” she says. “I don’t have the parents other kids have. I don’t have the support system other people have. I’ve never had a home like other kids had. I think we all struggle with our own situation. What got me through is knowing that good times are coming, but bad things will happen again, too. That is just life.”

Her “why” has become apparent over the years. She knows why she is here. She knows life is about finding the good things and focusing on those things. Every night before she goes to bed, she stops to think about the positive things that have happened in her day, even if they are tiny.

“A lot of people go through things that aren’t fair and people don’t understand why they have to go through those things,” she says. “But I think if you fight hard mentally and take care of yourself, it helps. You must keep on because life is beautiful. You just have to find it.”

More from Farm Journal’s PORK:

The Night the Fire Took the Farm

When the Unexpected Knocks: How Cancer Gave Audrey Angus Perspective

San Antonio Barrow Show Winner Captures Hearts and Breaks Records

From the Streets to the Swine Barn

Thu, 02 Feb 2023 21:53:36 GMT

The first thing Gracee Workman will tell you about her story is that she is not a victim. But her story is not easy to take in and most people, try as they might, will never be able to understand what she’s been through.

Workman grew up far from hog barns and oblivious of the industry she’s come to love. The obstacles she’s overcome to flee the streets and build a career that’s included working in a sow unit and vet clinic to managing the Ohio State University swine farm is inspiring.

The daughter of two addicts, Workman’s parents divorced after she turned one and were constantly in and out of jail. She and her sister slept on a cement floor as their mother’s addiction grew worse and she gradually sold everything in their house for drugs and alcohol.

“She would wake up and immediately we’d count whatever change we could find and walk with her to the liquor store,” Workman says. “She’d get her King Cobra first thing in the morning so she could start drinking or get high or whatever she needed to do. On good days, we’d go trash picking. We’d go from dumpster to dumpster to see what we could find.”

By the age of 5, Workman’s father received custody of the girls and moved them away from the streets of Columbus, Ohio, out near Buckeye Lake to be closer to his family. Her father was an addict, too, but functioned at a higher level than her mother – most people had no idea about the struggles that went on behind closed doors.

Her father dated several women throughout Workman’s childhood. He stayed with one woman for a longer period of time. During this time, she struggled with mental health and attempted suicide several times. One day they got into a fight and he took the girls to their grandparents’ house. While they were away, she hung herself in their garage.

“My dad took my sister and I down to the basement where she had made her first attempts to commit suicide,” Workman says.

Suicide was an all-too-common theme in Workman’s childhood. Her mother struggled with mental health, too, and attempted suicide. She died of a drug overdose when Workman was 18.

“My mother was bipolar and was committed to the pysch ward once,” Workman says. “I have seen firsthand what happens when your mental health isn’t diagnosed correctly or isn’t treated properly – oftentimes, people look for a way to numb it.”

Fallen Heroes
Growing up, Workman’s dad was her hero. She looked up to him and loved spending time with him. During her childhood, he was in and out of hospitals for nine different back surgeries and became addicted to opiates.

“There were times my father wouldn’t get out of bed and there were times he would be gone for weeks at a time,” she says. “Meanwhile, my mother remained absent as she struggled with her addiction, too. They weren’t bad people. Unfortunately, addiction took over their lives and the choices they made.”

Before long, families in the community began to notice and offered Workman support and a place to live.

“I started working at a young age doing different things such as pool concessions, babysitting and cleaning houses,” she says. “I was pretty mature for my age. Everyone around the community knew that I needed money and would often pay me to do something for them.”

Looking back, she believes those families are the reason she pushed through nearly impossible circumstances. “I don’t really know how I coped as a child,” she says. “I had amazing people provide me with support to get down a better path.”

Having an addict father made her a very fearful kid, she adds. She knew if she upset her father, he would move her from wherever she was living at the time.

Friends also kept her mind busy and off of other things. “I didn’t know anything different. That was my life. I didn’t realize that wasn’t how it was supposed to be,” she says.

For example, when Workman was 10 years old, her older sister got her high for the first time so she would go to sleep while her sister had parties.

“I was in the atmosphere to become an addict due to the choices that were put in front of me at a young age,” she recalls. “But I knew I wanted something else. I did not want to go down the same path as my parents.”

An Introduction to Agriculture
Although she grew up disconnected from agriculture, she quickly uncovered a passion for agriculture in high school while helping take care of a friend’s horse. They moved the horse to a new farm one day that also had a pig finishing barn.

She helped this family with some of the farm’s chores – not the pigs – and realized how much she enjoyed working with animals. She became pregnant in her senior year of high school. After graduation, this family helped watch her baby while she took college classes and worked various jobs.

“One day they asked me if I was interested in playing with pigs,” Workman says. “And that’s where it all started.”

This family connected her with the production manager at a Heimerl Farms sow farm in Pleasantville. She was a young female with no experience, and she had never been around a pig. Fortunately, her work ethic and positive attitude helped her land the job.

“She was young and energetic, but had no experience with hogs,” says Jim Heimerl, owner of Heimerl Farms. “She learned quickly and seemed to really like what she was doing. The manager at the sow unit, along with the Keller family, made her feel welcome and comfortable with her jobs.”

The transition to work at a sow farm wasn’t easy. In fact, it was downright overwhelming at times.

“Working on a sow farm is a lot of hard physical work and long hours for what you get paid. And you don’t get to go home until the job’s done,” Workman says.

She also struggled to fit in. But she says that was the fuel she needed to rise up and prove people wrong.

“Everyone, except the manager, doubted me at first. They were far from welcoming,” she says. “But after what I’ve been through in my life, that just fueled my fire. You don’t think I can? I’ll prove you wrong.”

And prove them wrong she did. She stuck it out, gaining respect from her co-workers and developing great relationships with them.

“In the beginning, I was just sticking it out to prove that I could do the work because I wasn’t who they thought I was. Then, I just fell in love with it. I had no idea that world existed,” she says.

For the Love of Pigs
When she started working at the sow farm, she had no idea where her food came from. As she learned more and more about the industry, she says she was simply amazed by it.

“Everyone I worked with cared so much about what they did and the animals they raised,” she says. “The people in agriculture are so different than other people. It’s hard to explain – they are just genuine.”

She continued to complete her college vet tech degree while working for Heimerl Farms. Read the rest of the story here .

When the Unexpected Knocks: How Cancer Gave Audrey Angus Perspective

Thu, 02 Feb 2023 21:48:56 GMT

It was a morning from hell. Literally.

Jason Angus raced to a landlord’s farm to put out a fire, while his wife Audrey put their boys on the school bus. From out of nowhere, the family’s 6-month-old Labrador puppy ran under the bus chasing after a corn husk and was killed instantly. As Audrey soothed her tearful boys and Jason fought a fire, neither felt prepared for the biggest battle they would face next.

Audrey’s first day of chemotherapy was not off to a great start.

“What we already knew was going to be a bad day had a series of follies that no one could have written a script for,” Jason says.

When the unexpected knocks
In fact, the entire situation was like that – unexpected. When Audrey turned 40, she was encouraged to get her first mammogram. She was young, healthy and active. Between balancing her most important job as mother to two busy boys – Alex, 7, and Theo, 5 – serving as a full-time swine specialist with Furst-McNess, and working as a full-time farm wife, Audrey says it was a few months before she actually found time to make the appointment.

“I thought nothing of it,” she says, recalling her mammogram on Halloween, and so she went back to her busy life. She was in Chicago touring the Field Museum with her sister on a Saturday morning when her doctor called.

She remembers bits and pieces of the conversation. Stage one, grade three. Highly aggressive. Oncologist. Treatment plan.

“Oh, that’s a big life change,” Audrey says. “You really don’t see that coming. I had stage one, grade three, triple negative breast cancer. Don’t google it. It’s nasty stuff and by far, the most aggressive kind with the highest chance of recurring.”

That’s hard news for a husband to take, Jason says.

“I was mad. My first gut reaction was that I wanted someone to blame,” he remembers. “I know it wasn’t justified, but I couldn’t get it through my head how this could be happening to her at 40 years of age.”
But he says with time, he realized that mindset was not going to do him any good. He couldn’t blame anyone for this. He began to feel a little selfish next as he wondered how he would be able to raise their sons without her. But he eventually got on board with his wife’s mindset.

“I told myself, ‘If she is willing to do whatever it takes to solve this problem and fight this disease, it’s time for the rest of us to adjust how we think, what we do and realize that mom is no longer going to take care of everything that we’ve always dumped on her shoulders. It’s time for us to become more involved in the day-to-day and prioritize what is important and disregard what’s not,” Jason says.

Telling the boys was the hardest part.

“We didn’t know what they would understand and what they wouldn’t,” Jason says. “We talked with a lot of people about how you tell kids this kind of news. The boys’ responses were drastically different. Alex was emotional and scared. Theo was like, ‘let’s move on and do this.’”

Audrey (pictured above with son, Theo) says cancer made her deal with hard questions. What if things don’t work out? What would happen to the kids?

Stepping into the ring
Chemotherapy started almost immediately. Audrey’s oncologist started her on a five-month plan. Despite all the treatments and appointments, Audrey says she refused to let cancer define her and told very few people about what she was going through.

In addition to family and close friends, only a few feed customers knew. She wanted to keep working and planned her treatments so she could work when she felt the best and crash on the weekends.
“I didn’t want to be looked at as ‘the cancer person,’” she says. “I just wanted to be looked at as Audrey.”

Audrey’s colleague and friend, Fredrik Sandberg, says Audrey displayed nearly non-human strength in continuing to work despite the severe chemotherapy treatments she had to have.

“It humbles me to think that she kept pushing on when a lot of people would have hidden behind closed doors,” Sandberg says. “I remember her saying, ‘I can’t just lay down and take it.’”

She didn’t want the Furst-McNess team to ‘let up’ on her either, he says. They honored her wishes by moving ahead with things like normal, even though they expected her to take some time for herself.

People in agriculture are special – they work extremely hard, they work when they don’t want to and they work when sometimes they should not. But they keep going, Sandberg explains, and many people gained strength by seeing how Audrey handled her challenge.

“Many, like myself, grew an even greater respect of her,” he says.

But the last thing Audrey needed or wanted was special handling – she just did what she had to do to get through it.

“It’s like being a farmer,” she explains. “The pigs still have to get fed. You just can’t opt out and say, ‘Yeah, I don’t feel like feeding the pigs tonight.’ You don’t get to opt out of a chemo session because you don’t feel good.”

And chemo wasn’t easy.

It’s hard to sit across from your wife and watch her be hooked up to tubes and IVs, Jason says. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they were silent. He let her direct what they did during those stretches of time. Although he was prepared for chemo to be tough, he says that wasn’t the most difficult part.

“It was 48 to 72 hours later when the effects of the terrible drug concoctions kicked in and she felt sick, lost her energy, and was completely worn out and tired,” he says. “That was so hard.”
Audrey admits losing her hair was tough, too. By the second treatment, it was gone.

“We were headed up to Christmas at my sister’s house and it was coming out,” she remembers. “So, I just let my hair fly out the window. That’s gross, but that’s what I did.”

An unusual twist
Not long after her diagnosis, Jason’s farming partner’s wife was diagnosed with a second case of breast cancer.

“Two business partners watching their wives suffering from basically the same thing…it was just ironic,” Jason says. “We made it through 2018 from a farming standpoint, but it did not go as we expected.”

Read the rest of Audrey’s story on Page 2 .

Healing Power of a Pig: How a Show Pig Helped Georgia Family Battle Cancer in the Midst of the Pandemic

Thu, 02 Feb 2023 21:33:21 GMT

A dream 20 years in the making is now a reality for the Curtis family.

“It used to just be him with a few sows, then as I came on board, we’ve increased our hospitality and marketing and all of that, too,” says Emily Curtis, owner of Curtis Show Pigs.

Emily and her husband Michael breed and sell show pigs at their family farm in Thompson, Mo. Their two daughters also joined in on the fun this year, stepping into the show ring for the first time and carrying on the family tradition.

(Farm Journal)

“We just have a lot of fun with it at this point,” says Michael Curtis, who started the operation before he even graduated high school.

While the Curtis’ will be the first to tell you their operation is small, which is by design, they are modest when describing their reach. The Curtis family farrows twice a year, drawing quite the crowd each time, typically selling out of show pig stock.

“We farrow in the summer, as well, and have just developed a relationship with some Georgia ag teachers,” says Michael. “We send a lot down there in the fall, that will then show in February, or March down there.”

Devastating Fire

Catering to a loyal list of clients has become the Curtis family’s specialty.

“We have past connections to a FFA group in northern Georgia and the ag teacher reached out to me, we delivered some pigs down just like we always do. And a week later, I got a text message from the mom of this girl, saying their trailer had burned and the pig we sent them was lost in the fire. She wanted to replace the pig,” remembers Michael. “So, they contacted us wanting to purchase another one.”

(Farm Journal)

“I think the first phone call was that their whole trailer had burned, and the pig had been inside and died,” adds Emily. “And tragedies like that happen with barn fires, and just tragedies with the animals, and usually we don’t have pigs left. Thankfully since it had just happened, we still had pigs.”

A Gift of Generosity

With pigs still in their pens, the Curtis’ knew exactly what they needed to do.

“I mean, it was no brainer: send her a new pig,” says Emily. “Her mom wanted to pay for it, but we said of course not. It means so much to these kids to show, and your heart breaks for the kid going through that. Giving them the pig is least you can do, and any other breeder would have done the exact same thing.”

The Curtis’ were gifting this family another pig out of generosity. While that act of kindness was a remarkable gesture for a family the Curtis’ barely knew, but the story didn’t stop there.

“I reached out a couple months later to check on the pig and see how it had done, since they should have had a few shows by then. I just sent a little text message just hoping for update on the pig. Instead, we got an update on the family situation that her dad had been diagnosed with cancer,” says Michael.

Challenging Cancer

The cancer diagnosis that came for one Georgia family was the exact day they were gifted the show pig from the Curtis’ in Missouri.

“We were blindsided by COVID-19, and then with leukemia,” says Naomi King, the mom of 16-year-old Miriam King, who lost her first pig in a trailer file, and then planned to show the new pig given to her by the Curtis’. “I was like, ‘oh my gosh,’ because we went and picked up her pig that morning. And then that afternoon, I took my husband to our local oncologist here in Blairsville. I didn’t even know what an oncologist was.”

“I was actually at the pig barn at the time,” says Miriam. “My mom called me on the phone and said, ‘Dad has cancer.’”

(Farm Journal)

With those words, came a flood of emotions as reality started to set in.

“As soon as the pig trailer caught on fire, and then we got a new pig, named Jimmy Dean, to show, I just felt like God did not want us to show this year,” says Naomi. “I was like, ‘shoot, we have the pig already, what are we going to do? We’re going to bring him with us.”

So, that’s what they did. Jimmy Dean, as they called him, was what helped Miriam have at least some piece of normalcy while her dad was undergoing cancer treatment in Atlanta. All of this also happening in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic causing the world to shut down.

“I walked down the streets in my grandmother’s little neighborhood every day with the pig,” says Miriam. “All while the neighbors were looking at the pig.”

Desire for Normalcy

The Kings brought a piece of home with them, as well as a steady routine to keep her mind off the reality of her dad’s diagnosis.

“In the middle of COVID-19 and leukemia, Jimmy Dean brought us normalcy,” says Naomi. “It made life normal. That’s [walking the pig] just what we do. This is what we did every year previous. With COVID-19, everybody wanted normal. And with another family crisis going on, we wanted normal.”

The desire to bring normalcy as chaos was actually unfolding for the Kings, came for a girl who found FFA and showing pigs was her passion.

(Farm Journal)

“The pigs have been really great because she was homeschooled and kind of shy and quiet,” says Naomi. “And when she decided that she wanted to go to public school in ninth grade, it was a big adjustment for her. FFA was just in her niche. She just got right into it.”

Deep Dedication

As the Kings were battling the fight against cancer as a family, the Curtis family in Missouri was also learning about the miles Miriam went to still care for her show pig.

“That just hit me so hard, I said, ‘that’s some dedication,’” says Emily. And it showed me how much they were supporting each other as a family, and that the parents were supporting her still having this project that she was dedicated to caring for an animal.”

That deep dedication turned into inspiration for the Curtis’ annual t-shirt.

“That became our theme,” says Emily. “But it’s so much more than about a t shirt. It’s just the inspiration that she gave me. And then I knew that it would inspire so many other people. I’m just amazed by them.”

Healing Power

For the Kings, Chris’ journey is just getting started.

“I’m just going now to keep the doctor proved wrong,” says Chris.

“We knew God could do this,” says Naomi. “When knew God could cure him no matter what chemo or what these doctors wanted to do. God can. He can. And he did.”

“I have a 100% clean bill of health,” says Chris.

At a time when the COVID-19 pandemic caused so much pain for many, the Kings have been an inspiration.

(Farm Journal)

“Naomi said that Chris is cancer free and in remission, and they got that news on the same day that Jimmy Dean went to slaughter,” says Emily. “So, that pig got Miriam through the exact number of days that her dad was fighting cancer, and just the symbolism of that, and how much these animals mean to all of us, it’s a story meant to be told.”

Lessons about life – and reminders about the strength of family and faith - extended beyond the show ring for the Kings. As Jimmy Dean is proof that a show pig is more than just a project.

“You have to keep pushing through, whether it be COVID-19 or leukemia, every family’s going through something right now. Don’t quit,” says Naomi. “Keep striving. Every day is a new day. God’s mercies are new every morning.”

The Kings say they’ll continue showing pigs, as their teenage daughter learned more about life and dedication during 2020 than some do in an entire decade.

Read more about the King’s family story on Farm Journal’s PORK Business .

At 36, Brooke Taylor Has Battled Cancer Twice, Now She's Working To Spread Joy To Others

Fri, 23 Dec 2022 18:56:09 GMT

At 36 years old, Brooke Taylor has many chapters to her life.

“After I graduated from Oklahoma State twice, I went on a circuit of working in the food and agricultural industry,” says Taylor, who now resides in Gore, Okla. “I started in Oklahoma City working in for commodity organization before taking the switch over to the agency side, working then in Oklahoma City, North Carolina, Texas, Tennessee and Wisconsin before returning to Oklahoma.”

Taylor’s post-graduation chapter kept her constantly on the road. And six years ago, she says she woke up one day with the realization that life just wasn’t for her.

“If only there was a way to do what I do now working for large and international ag and food organizations, but in rural Oklahoma, and that would be the life, and somehow we made that happen,” she says.

She launched a company, Rural Gone Urban, in rural Oklahoma at a time when she had no internet at home. The business blossomed into a dream come true. That dream got even better in 2018 when Taylor found out she was pregnant.

“It was the cherry on top of all of the things that I’d ever wanted. I was living in Oklahoma, I had this job working with really big, important agricultural brands, while creating a family. I didn’t think anything could get any better,” she says.

Taylor describes her pregnancy as very normal.

“I did notice there was a spot in my breasts that kept getting a little larger, and I brought it up to my medical team, multiple times. They said, ‘No, this is just part of being a new mom. This is what your body does,’” she remembers.

But for Taylor, something was still wrong.

The Diagnosis

Maybe it was her maternal instinct already kicking in, but Taylor was right.

“And so my 38-week appointment, I literally ripped my shirt off in that doctor’s appointment, and I said, ‘I’m not leaving until you feel this,’” she says. “And I watched the color drain from her face.”

Her doctor referred her to a breast health specialist, and within 15 minutes of leaving her 38-week appointment, she received a call from the specialist’s office to schedule an appointment the next day.

“That next Monday, he called me at 8 a.m., and he said, ‘I’m sorry, kiddo. It’s cancer,’” Taylor remembers.

The diagnosis? A very aggressive type of breast cancer that primarily affects women under 40.

“And by 2 p.m., I found out the child I was carrying was a girl, and she entered the world via c section so we could get that [treatment] party started,” she says.

View this post on Instagram A post shared by brooke clay taylor (@ruralgoneurban)

A baby girl named after her great grandmother who was a dairy farmer in Indiana.

“So, Elsie James Taylor is the reason that I’m still here today,” says Taylor.

A New Mom Undergoing Cancer Treatment

Just days after giving birth, Taylor says she was treated to the entire breast cancer buffet.

“I had four different types of chemo. During that time, I had an infection they had to clean out. I had two cases of shingles,” says Taylor.

View this post on Instagram A post shared by brooke clay taylor (@ruralgoneurban)

She was undergoing the treatments all while still working and transitioning into life as a new mom.

“After that, I chased it with a double mastectomy. I chased it with five weeks of radiation during a pandemic. I had a preventative hysterectomy, and oophorectomy, which means before my daughter was a year old, I said, ‘Here are all my reproductive organs, please don’t come back.’ I had reconstruction surgery, and then I was good,” she says.

Positive News After Treatment

The news after the intense treatment? It was positive. Her body had a complete response to chemo. No cancer was left.

She lived life for about a year in complete remission. Her follow-up appointments and scans after she finished treatment showed the cancer was gone.

“And then Christmas this last year, I was driving home from my parents’ house, and my family had been sick all week,” she says.

It was also during that drive a year ago that she felt a swollen lymph node on her neck.

“My husband said don’t overthink it. So, I didn’t,” she says.

Taylor started on antibiotics, just thinking it was from the same illness that had been running through the family. But then weeks later, she saw photos of herself and knew that something just wasn’t right.

“So, I called my doctors and I went in I said, ‘I don’t know what’s going on, something’s broken.’”

The Cancer Was Back

Once again, her instincts were right.

View this post on Instagram A post shared by brooke clay taylor (@ruralgoneurban)

Stage four cancer. It was heartbreaking news that she shared on her Instagram.

“It was back. It was mad. It was so mad. I got the results. The pet scan on the anniversary of the day my dad had passed away from cancer. So, really just twist over the knife on that one. I learned that the breast cancer had returned—it was in my neck and clavicle, my ribs, my spine, and then most of my pelvis,” says Taylor.

The cancer was everywhere. As the news sunk in, Elsie James was still just two.

“You’ve given me a metastatic diagnosis, which means end game. It’s what it means statistically. No one really makes it out that if you have metastatic triple negative breast cancer, and the average lifespan after that diagnosis is 13 months, which is this March for me,” says Taylor.

With the diagnosis came other news. A cancer-fighting medicine that had been in trials for 10 years had just been approved by FDA.

“Because I had responded well to a platinum-based chemo, because I am a BRCA1gene mutant carrier, I checked the boxes for this medicine. And it’s working for me,” she says.

It’s not been smooth sailing. That medicine that’s helping her fight cancer, also caused Taylor to undergo nearly 20 blood transfusions this past summer.

“And I’ve had clear scans. I’ve looked at the scans, I’ve seen the March scan, and then the scan in June and the scan in September. And while my doctors won’t say that it’s gone, it’s not there,” she says.

The Reality of Living With Cancer

Taylor says it’s a miracle she’s here, but the reality of beating two aggressive forms of breast cancer is something that doesn’t go away.

“I went to a girls’ dinner this past week and we were talking about teachers and who else you might have for pre-k or first grade,” she says. “And all I could think about was, we’re all just there talking like it’s okay and it’s normal, and I might not even meet those teachers. It’s just, it’s just my reality.”

Her reality of not knowing if she’ll be here to see her daughter’s milestones are her reality today.

“I would be lying to you if I told you that it’s not hard,” say Taylor.

Leaving a Legacy Larger Than Cancer Through the Rural Gone Urban Foundation

Yet, it’s not stopping her from doing what she’s always done. Taylor’s cancer battle is one she shares on social media, documenting the ups and the downs of fighting cancer twice.

And as a young wife and mom, she also wants to leave a legacy that’s bigger than cancer.

“And so I had this idea of what if I created something while I was still here, that way I could control its roots and its foundation. And then whenever I graduate to heaven, that people continue that living legacy for me,” says Taylor.

That’s how the Rural Gone Urban Foundation transpired.

“It came out of thin air really, and it’s the best thing that’s happened from this year,” says Taylor.

The mission? Investing in strong women doing brave things with three pillars of support. All the pillars reflect Taylor’s life and heart in some way.

“So the first pillar of the foundation is investing in B and C students, because gosh, they work hard to they’re probably the entrepreneurs of the world that we need,” says Taylor.

The second is investing in small business owners, which stems from her second season of life…

“When I launched my small business, I was living in an apartment in a horse barn. I had no internet. I had no infrastructure. I was reading irs.gov on Friday nights to figure out what was going on. And I had lived a career in very large corporate environments, but doing it on my own was a whole different ballgame,” she says.

And the third pillar is supporting others battling cancer.

“I just haven’t come up with a better name than love bombs for cancer fighters,” says Taylor.

Taylor says worrying about bills, childcare or things around the house is a lot for cancer fighters, especially ones who don’t have a huge network of support. So, the foundation will not only award women with financial grants, but also do the little things to help cancer fighters however they can.

View this post on Instagram A post shared by brooke clay taylor (@ruralgoneurban)

Taylor first announced the foundation on Instagram, an effort to leave a legacy of giving.

“We raised almost $25,000 in like 48 hours,” she says. “That’s grassroots; that’s like $5, $10, $50 donations. It’s wild.”

In less than a year, the foundation has raised close to $50,000, all thanks to generous donors and the foundation’s board.

“On behalf of the board, not just me, we want to gift entrepreneurs who are already doing the hard work and let them know we see you, we value you and we want you to succeed,” she says.

The Foundation Will Start Spreading Joy in 2023

The board has already overcome the paperwork and others hurdles of starting a foundation board, and in 2023, the Rural Gone Urban Foundation will start to spread that joy to others.

“I am the chair of the scholarship committee, so I’m pulling that committee together, right now. We’re going to open the application process, and this spring, and we’re going to give away $15,000, this spring semester,” she says.

Then, Taylor says the foundation will also get to work on the love bombs.

“March is triple negative breast cancer awareness month, which is the type of cancer I was diagnosed with, so it’s important that we start launching in March,” she says.

Taylor’s Memory Building Trips with Family

Taylor says while the foundation supports others, she’s been able to take Elsie on a few memory building trips of their own this year, including one to New York.

View this post on Instagram A post shared by brooke clay taylor (@ruralgoneurban)

“We went to a Mets game. She ran on the field. We saw the Lion King,” she says.

During that trip, they also made a special visit to a jewelry store and picked out bracelets together.

“Someday, whether I’m here or not here, she will open gifts that we picked out together on the day she graduates high school, the day she graduates from college, on her wedding day and the day she becomes a mom,” says Taylor.

One item Elsie was drawn to was a delicate bracelet with a lady bug.

“At that time, all I can think about is what about when this story becomes full circle and she is has her first baby. What if I’m not there? It’s just a ladybug. But if that’s all I can do, I mean, I’m going to do it,” says Taylor with tears.

Taylor may be a mom now, but she knows what it’s like to go through monumental moments in life without a parent.

“As a child who lost a father to cancer, those are the days where I was surrounded by the most people, and I kept looking around to see if he was there. I’ve never told anyone that,” she says. “And I was 6 when he died.”

As Taylor looks to the future, she’s not only thinking about her only family. In a season of giving, Taylor is working to make a difference year-round.

“This has been the most humbling year of my life,” she says. “Through tears, in my weakest moment of saying, ‘My daughter’s not going to remember me,’ to breathing foundation that people also believe in.”

And she says instead of living life like every day could be her last, she’s simply living life to the fullest every day she can.

“It’s not up to someone how what the outcome looks like, but it is up to us how we live through it; how we identify the silver linings,” says Taylor.

Taylor says her faith has grown even stronger since her initial diagnosis three years ago, and while she’s not scared to graduate to heaven, she’s not ready just yet.

“The thing I’ve struggled with is, how can I ask for me to be a miracle when maybe the miracle is that I’m here right now, anyway,” says Taylor.

Taylor’s mission isn’t finished yet. She says she’ll continue to work to raise money for her Foundation. If you’d like to help support her efforts and donate, visit the Foundation’s website .

Virginia Farmer Was Stranded After His Tractor Ran Over Him; What Happened Next Will Restore Your Faith in Humanity

Tue, 01 Nov 2022 22:17:14 GMT

Winding across a hilly, gravel road in Crockett, Virginia, is where you’ll find Allen Dix every day of the week except Sunday.

“This is part of my 75-mile mail route that I travel six days a week,” he says.

As a USPS rural mail carrier, it’s a route he knows by memory, and one he traveled just like any other mail day in early March.

Part of his daily routine as a mail carrier, it’s that same road where John Moody is also a regular.

“Well, I’ve lived here on this farm almost my whole life. This was my grandparents’ farm,” says Moody, who raises cattle in the remote area of Virginia.

For 31 years, John worked for the county USDA Farm Service Agency (FSA), even serving as the county executive director, but now retired, owning cattle for more than 40 years means John never slowed down. And on March 4th, the day just after John had turned 70 years old, his day started as it normally would as he loaded up to feed his cattle.

“I had a hay bale here on the front, and I had a hay bale on the back,” John remembers.

With bales in tow, John stopped to open the gate to feed his cows, the same way he’s done for decades.

“I just pulled off the side road and pulled off in the ditch and let it idle over there, and then I go across the road, open the gate and come back and get on tractor,” says John. “Well, I did that, and I wasn’t paying any attention, but when I turned around and started back toward the tractor, I looked up, and here came the tractor.”

The Accident

His first instinct was to try to jump on to the tractor to stop it, but as he did, John slipped off.

“My right leg got caught under the back tire, and it just pulled me under,” he remembers.

(Farm Journal)

The tractor, with the two hay bales still in tow, ran straight over John, crushing his lower body.

“Luckily, when it ran over me, when it got to my hips, it just turned to the side and went on off into the fence,” John says.

After the tractor charged across him and landed in the fence, John couldn’t move. And John says just seconds after it happened, he was in shock.

“I thought I was paralyzed,” says John. “I couldn’t move either one of my legs.”

But hearing a steady stream of hooves heading straight for the gate still wide open, still unable to walk, in true farmer fashion, it was more than survival on John’s mind.

“So, I crawled over and got the gate shut,” says John. “And I thought, ‘Well, maybe I can pull myself up and get on the tractor.’ So, I pulled myself up on the gate. But I couldn’t take a step or nothing. So, I just laid back down.”

The Rural Route Rescue

By that time it was mid-morning, when the rural road isn’t traveled much. So John knew the best chance of someone rescuing him was to lie in the ditch.

“I kept thinking well, sooner or later the mailman would come, and I laid there about an hour,” he remembers.

And sure enough, Dix, who travels the road daily, pulled up right on time.

“But as I got closer, I noticed the tractor was across the road and it was into the fence, and the tractor was still running,” remembers Dix.

The route and frequent stops are ones Dix knows by heart. And as he pulled off to the side of the road, he quickly realized something wasn’t right.

“I actually found John in the ditch right here along the edge of the road,” he says. “I was kind of approaching him rather cautiously. And, I said, ‘John, are you okay?’ And he said, ‘No, actually, the tractor ran over me.’”

And that’s when Dix immediately called 911.

“911, do you have an emergency,” asked the 911 operator.

“Yes, I’m on Zion Church Road,” you can hear Dix say on the call.

“Is he out of the roadway,” the operator then asked.

“Yes. I’m a mail carrier and I want to stay here with him until someone gets here,” answered Dix.

But after he hung up, John had a call he needed to make.

“John doesn’t have cell phone. He’s old school. So, I gave him my cell phone,” says Dix.

“He called the rescue squad, and I called my wife,” John remembers with tears in his eyes.

“The first thing he said was, ‘What are you doing?’ And I said, ‘Well, I’m working.’ And he said, ‘Could you meet me at the hospital?’ And then I had to sit down,” remembers Debbie Moody, John’s wife. “And I said, ‘What’s happened?’ He said, ‘Well, my tractor ran over me.’ And then I really started to panic.”

She says Dix then took the phone back and explained what had happened as Debbie says she was still in shock.

“When John told me his tractor ran over him, of course. I imagined the worst,” she says.

With Dix still there, the ambulance arrived and rushed John to a local hospital, but it was there the staff realized John’s injuries were too severe.

“They sent me to Wake Forest Baptist in North Carolina, and they flew me down there by a helicopter and they took me to the trauma center, and then they operated the next day on my leg,” he says.

Repairing a hole where gravel had burrowed into his skin, John also had three pins placed where the tractor fractured his pelvis. And it was during surgery the severeness of John’s accident also sunk in.

“The surgeon said, ‘You know, he shouldn’t be alive,’” Debbie remembers. “And I cried. I knew it was bad. But when she put it in those words, I cried and said a little prayer.”

John spent a total of 15 days at the hospital with rehab continuing when he got home. Debbie was a natural at being a nurse, but she was also John’s biggest cheerleader as he worked to walk again.

“It was hard on him because he would be tired and sometimes frustrated,” she says. “But he did very well and pushed hard and did what he had to do.”

Steady Stream of Support

As the recovery process was just starting, it was when the Moody’s returned home they saw support and help from family and friends.

“When we came home one of my neighbors they’d built a ramp for me,” says John. “Another one had brought a hospital bed for me, and I was in that hospital bed for about three months that we set up in the living room.”

And the generosity didn’t stop, as the kindness seemed to keep pouring in.

“I had one neighbor that came and fed my cattle for the rest of the winter, and then I had another one come in vaccinate all my calves,” John remembers.

But it wasn’t just those neighbors who continued to check on John. You see, Dix didn’t just rescue John on March 4th. Right after Dix found John in the ditch, he jumped right in to mend what needed fixed on the farm, as he waited with John for help to arrive.

“I was able to move the tractor off of the fence, get it back to the barn was able to mend the fence,” says Dix.”

Even then, Dix says his job still wasn’t finished.

“And he needed some personal things from the house. I went to his house and got those. After all that was finished, I finished my mail route.”

And for Dix, that’s just what you do.

“We take care of each other out here. We look after each other,” he says.

Rural Route Hero

But from finding John and calling 911, to then repairing the fence and gathering items John needed for his hospital stay, what Dix did on March 4, 2021 extended far beyond his day job, something for which he was recognized recently.

“They actually surprised me with the presentation at the post office. I had absolutely no idea that it was going on,” says Dix.

That surprise and presentation wasn’t just for any award, but the USPS’ Hero Award.

“I’m a little uncomfortable with the ‘hero’ title, because, John and Debbie are the heroes for surviving the accident, her giving him care through this whole thing. And it’s been an emotional six months for them, and for me, too.”

(Farm Journal)

A Humble Hero

With his name now engraved at the USPS headquarters in Washington, D.C., Dix still doesn’t like being called a hero. But to John and Debbie, a hero is exactly what he is.

“Allen is truly a hero. He will always be a hero to the Moody family, because of his quick thinking,” says Debbie. “In this area, people do take care of each other and look after each other, and that was just second nature to him.”

“He saved me from a lot of suffering getting there when he did, or I don’t know when somebody would have got there that day,” says John.

While Dix typically delivers mail, that day, Allen Dix proved to be a rural route hero by delivering an unforgettable rescue. As John and Allen share a new bond, it’s one of which John will be forever thankful.

(Farm Journal)

A New Chapter

As for John, his recovery has been a year in the making.

“I had been thinking about cutting back on my cattle; a third this year, a third next year, and then a third next year and going out of the cow-calf operation and then buying calves in the spring and selling them in the fall,” explains John. “Well, while laid there I thought well, this might be a good time just sell all them. So that’s what I did once I got better.”

However, the accident wasn’t the end of John’s story, as John recently started a new chapter. Nearly a year after John survived the tractor accident and sold off all his cattle knowing he couldn’t care for them at the time, he just purchased 19 head of cattle to graze again. As the cattle returned to the farm in March 2022, it’s affirmation that when you have enough heart and passion, it’s a way of life that not even tragedy can take away.

Couple Takes Off On Trip From Nebraska To Alaska In A 1977 IH Tractor To Raise Money For Kids

Tue, 01 Nov 2022 22:16:55 GMT

Driving from Nebraska to Alaska isn’t a quick trip, but for Dick and Carolee Ourada, the trip will take nearly 60 days. That’s because the Ouradas are making the 3,910 mile trip in a tractor as a way to raise money for kids.

Dick is a retired farmer, and Carolee is a recently retired nurse. The couple is venturing back to Alaska after falling in love with the state decades ago. What’s normally a more than 50-hour drive from Holyoke, Colo., to Fairbanks, Alaska, will take them two months this time. The couple started in western Nebraska this week.

Why would anyone want to make the trip in a tractor? The drive across the western U.S., Canada and the Alaska Highway isn’t easy, and some would even call it grueling in a motor vehicle. The answer to that has a story that dates back to the 1970s when Dick started farming.

“To tell you the truth, I traded some shock absorbers from my small mechanic shop for a bred gilt and took her home, because I thought the kids would learn something from the experience of the piglets,” explains Dick. “And we built it into about a 3,000-head hog producing farm.”

Their family farm also grew sugarbeets, corn and wheat. As Dick battled through the farm financial crisis of the 1980s and the hog herd contraction many producers faced in the 1990s, the farm changed. He and his late wife then ventured into vegetable production.

“In order to stay afloat, we put in a small vegetable farm, which nobody did out here in farm country, but we did it anyway,” he says. “And it was very successful. We had 25 acres every year, and did sweet corn, tomatoes, seedless watermelons, which were new at that time, and peppers.”

Dick lost his first wife in 1996. After that, Dick’s world took a dark turn, as he said he didn’t want to farm anymore.

“I just didn’t want to be here anymore,” says Dick. “So, I sold the farm.”

Finding Purpose Again

In 2001, Dick found purpose again when he met Carolee. The two traveled to Alaska for the summer, as she was a traveling nurse, and they both fell in love with the state.

Fast forward a couple decades, and the couple purchased land and are refurbishing an Alaskan home. But as they searched for a tractor to use on their Alaskan land, they found that tractors aren’t only expensive, but hard to find in the state. So, they decided to buy one near their northeast Colorado house and shop, and drive it to Alaska from there.

The two found a tractor in Iowa that seemed to fit the bill for the job: a 1977 International Harvester 574 that they purchased for around $3,500 sight unseen.

“When this came along, we knew couldn’t go out on the highway; it wasn’t in that good of shape. It had been outside for a while, and it was pretty rusty. We had to do a lot of work,” says Dick.

After purchasing the tractor in February, the couple, along with some help from family and friends, spent five months fixing up the tractor that they named “Aggie.”

“We adapted cab from an Allis Chalmers xt170,” says Dick.

Instead of hauling the tractor to Alaska, which Dick and Carolee say would have been quicker, easier and cheaper, they’re driving the tractor there. The tractor has no air conditioning and can go a maximum speed of only 20 mph on the highway.

One challenge for their tractor trip is the immediate heat. As they head out this week, forecasts show 106-degree temperatures. However, Dick and Carolee don’t seem to mind it one bit, because this is more than just a trip.

“We’re not really looking at the challenges because we know we can deal with whatever comes,”
says Carolee.

Raising Money for a Reason

The couple has a plan to stop at pre-determined Case IH dealerships along the way, all in an effort to raise money.

“Carolee said, ‘What would we do with the money?’ And I said, ‘Well, this might be a good place to put it,’” says Dick.

The Ouradas are raising money for the Colorado Children’s Hospital Foundation, a hospital that saved Dick’s daughter’s life 58 years ago this week.

“She just refused to eat, and the doctors here spent three days trying to figure something out,” remembers Dick. “They told us put her in the car and go to Denver. Don’t stop or anything. Just go to Denver.”

At the time, there wasn’t a quicker way to get her there, so Dick and his late wife did just that.

“We dropped her off dying,” says Dick.

They couldn’t stay with their daughter in the nursery, so they left her in the hospital expecting the worst. By the next morning, their daughter had made a miraculous comeback.

“And it turned out that they had run into the same problem with premature babies that would refuse to eat,” says Dick. “And so they had done a lot of research to figure out why, and they came up with a special nipple, and she had taken to it immediately.”

The life-saving move may seem simple, but Dick says that to him, the Denver Children’s Hospital did something he will never forget.

“We owe the hospital a lot,” says Dick. “This is kind of a way to help pay that back.”

The idea also sparked meaning for Carolee, whose family had also experienced the life-saving services the Denver Children’s Hospital provide.

“My nephew was born with multiple congenital heart defects,” she says. “And through the years, they’ve researched and come up with new ways to help him. He’s in his upper 30s today and living a normal, productive life. But when they first took him up there, they weren’t even sure he was going to survive the first procedure.”

Both Dick and Carolee feel indebted to the hospital, so they set a goal of raising $100,000 as they make the 3,910 mile trip.

“There are so many kids out there that need the resources and the research that children’s hospital does,” points out Carolee.

The Ouradas admit they’re a long way from their goal as they start off on their two-month long trip. But with compassion, drive and awareness, they hope generosity will continue to sprout along their route and across the country.

To donate, the Ouradas have set up a website , along with a Facebook page . Carolee says they will continue to update the page throughout the trip.

4-H Steer Sells 39 Times to Honor 18-Year-Old's Life

Wed, 17 Aug 2022 19:24:03 GMT

Daniel Spitzer had three loves in his life: Jesus, family/friends and cowboying. But his sister likes to joke that his true love was his horse, Lena.

“He just lived life to the fullest every day. He didn’t care what others thought of him. If he liked it, he went with it,” says Hannah Lonker of Pratt, Kan.

When a tragic ATV accident took Spitzer’s life on July 4, the entire community mourned one of their best gone too soon at the age of 18. He showed cattle at the Pratt County Fair and was active in 4-H horse, leadership and citizenship projects, too. He had been working with his steer all summer in preparation for his last county fair steer show.

It only made sense to honor Spitzer’s life by walking his steer into the sale ring during the Pratt County Fair 4-H Livestock Auction. What happened that day was nothing short of amazing, Lonker says.

Hands kept flying into the air while his younger sisters Haley and Samantha Spitzer walked their brother’s steer around the sale ring. His steer sold 39 times, bringing in more than $62,000.

“I honestly don’t have any other words to describe it. My family and I are completely blown away from the amount of support for Daniel’s Legacy,” Lonker says.

The $62,000 will serve as the foundation for Daniel’s Legacy , a mentoring support fund for youth in Daniel Spitzer’s memory, explain his parents, Brian and Loretta. They are setting up the program to help cover costs for youth to be able to attend camps, conventions, clinics, meetings and more. The program isn’t limited to Pratt County or even Kansas, his parents point out. They plan to build Daniel’s Legacy into a nationwide program, helping a variety of kids.

“The Pratt County community pulls together whenever there is a need. This summer has been a prime example of that. We are a small town that takes care of its own. I wish everyone could experience the love and support from small town Pratt, Kan.,” Lonker says.

Spitzer was well-liked by his peers, the Pratt Tribune reports. Fellow 4-Hers bid on Daniel’s steer, too, spending the money they had just earned by selling their own animals in the premium auction.

As his family moves forward, nursing broken hearts and crushed dreams, Lonker says they couldn’t make it without their faith.

“My family and I have faith and hope we get to see Daniel again. That’s what has kept us going, along with family and friends and our community who have prayed and supported us through this extremely hard time,” she says. “My family and I are cowboys, we’re tough as nails. We hurt, but we know that together we can get through this and one day we can see Daniel again.”

He was the best brother, Lonker says, and an example for others. She hopes their loss can be a reminder to others about priorities and the importance of community.

“He definitely was one of a kind,” she adds. “He never knew a stranger.”

Learn more about Daniel’s Legacy on Facebook .

Read More:

Community Rallies to Support 4-H Family, Buys Pig for $102,000

No, Showing Livestock Isn’t Always Supposed to Be Fun

By Her Own Hand: A Farm Girl’s Miraculous Journey from Death to Hope

Growing Deep Roots

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From the Streets to the Swine Barn

Our Derecho Story: The Trees Saved Our Pigs

Mon, 12 Jul 2021 16:37:02 GMT

When your 91-year-old mother says a storm is coming and it’s coming fast, you better listen, says David Martin of DCM Hampshires and Durocs in Marion, Iowa.

That morning David woke up to a humidity like he’s never experienced in his life. Hours later, a derecho windstorm struck Linn County, Iowa. For 40 minutes, winds raged and snapped over 100 mature evergreen and pine trees between their two farms located five miles apart. It even ripped down new high-line poles that were built to withstand 140-mph winds. Their pigs, housed in open-front buildings, walked around like a bunch of stunned zombies for hours after the storm passed.

“It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” he says. “I was in the basement. I heard the trees hit the roof of the house and one went through the roof. The rest of the trees were falling like crazy, but I never heard them because the winds were so loud.”

Two trees fell on their house during the storm and one tree broke a hole through their roof.

Loss and More Loss
Most of David’s friends lost something in the storm, he says. There’s hardly a grain bin standing anywhere between their place and the state’s capital 120 miles away. Buildings down, animals without homes, houses destroyed.

“There’s no grain storage around here. Most of the corn is so flat that it’s unharvestable. And it’s not going to come up because it broke off. Such huge losses – bin after bin, building after building – a tornado would have been easier for a lot of people,” David says.

Cedar Rapids, Iowa, received the brunt of the damage, explains Carly Martin, David’s daughter. It’s the second most populous city after Des Moines. For the derecho winds to peak at a place with this many people just makes it even more devastating for the state of Iowa.

Harvester silos bent to a 90-degree angle, flat fields and obliterated buildings remain a haunting reminder of the storm no one saw coming.

“It could have been so much worse,” he says. “We were on the edge of it. We lost lots of trees, but our pine trees saved our buildings. It absolutely chewed the trees apart, but I believe that’s what saved our pigs.”

Unfortunately, their corn and soybean crop didn’t fare as well. In July, they had a horrible storm with wind and hail that hit their place.

Damage from the July hail and wind storm that hit the Martin’s farm.

“We weren’t even done cleaning up from that,” Carly adds.

Most of the corn hit by the derecho winds are down in one direction, David explains. But his corn that was damaged by hail is down in every direction.
“Honestly, I think this is going to get into the farmers’ heads. We don’t know how to harvest this stuff,” David says. “You’re sitting there trying to figure out how to get a crop out that is just impossible to harvest and I think it’s really going to affect a lot of people.”

As a farmer, David’s favorite thing to do is run a combine down nice straight rows. That isn’t going to happen this year. But even if you could combine this mess of corn, David says there is nowhere to take it.

“All the bins are destroyed around here. There’s no way anybody can get new facilities up in time. And I don’t imagine too many of the grain companies have been spending a lot of time making bins this summer with the price of grain,” he adds.

Damaged fields after the derecho winds.

As a livestock producer the quality of this corn crop is a major concern.

“The grain will have so many toxins,” he says. “We already have corn that snapped and if you try to go harvest your good stuff, that bad stuff is going to go in there with it. It’s going to be a year that nobody’s ever seen before.”

For the farmers in one of the top agriculture states in the U.S. to get hit so hard, it’s going to trickle out and impact everyone, Carly says.

“People are already struggling from the pandemic and then you put this on top of it, it’s going to affect everyone in so many different ways,” she adds.

The clean-up is going to take a very long time. You don’t realize how many trees you have until they are all laying flat, Carly says.

The Luxury of Power
Power is a luxury right now in the area.

“It looks like a warzone around here,” David says. “To put it into perspective, within our county alone, workers have replaced 3,000 poles and more than 1,000 miles of wire in addition to clearing tons of debris from power lines.”

Ten days after the storm hit, local news stations report 22,000 tons of derecho debris has been removed so far in Cedar Rapids alone.

One crew leader fixing power lines told David that this is the worst devastation he has seen since the Joplin, Mo., tornado.

“You’ve got to drag the power lines out of the cornfields first,” David says. “They’re all tangled up and the workers are struggling to get the supplies they need. There’s already a shortage of lumber and everything else.”

No power, hot summer temperatures and devastation are fueling disgruntled people right and left.

“I know sometimes people get frustrated with power companies after storms like this,” Carly says. “They don’t deserve that. They’re doing the best they can.”

Carly and her mom, Beth, wanted to be “Iowa nice” so they decided to get some snacks for the linemen.

“We knew they had come from out of state and likely didn’t get much sleep,” Carly says. “We brought them some apples, granola bars and cookies. Their faces just lit up over it. That night, we decided to grill them pork burgers to show them our gratitude.”

The Martins extended their appreciation for the linemen with a pork burger meal and snacks.

Hog Farmers Stick Together
Despite the devastation their family has experienced, David says he knows he is not alone in it. Within hours, fellow farmers reached out trying to help. His long-time friend in the pork industry, Doug Stewart, and Doug’s son-in-law, drove over from Waverly, Iowa, the next day to help move pigs to their other farm where they had water.

Stewart also met up with a boar stud to pick up boar semen and then drove it to the Martin’s.

“Breeding sows was the last thing on my mind,” David says.

Click here to read Page 2 ; discover the story of one of the trees still standing at the farm today and watch a video of the storm damage.

Celebrate the Grit and Grace of America’s Farmers

Thu, 24 Jun 2021 19:02:56 GMT

Need a little inspiration? From facing an F-5 tornado to battling cancer and beyond, these producers share stories of how they’ve overcome big challenges with grit and grace. Click on the link below to enjoy six heartwarming stories of farmers’ and producers’ resilience.

Download the Grit With Grace eBook here.

Remarkable Rescue: Five Farmers Save Father and 6-Year-Old Son After Falling 70 Feet into a Well

Thu, 24 Jun 2021 18:51:42 GMT

The evening of Monday, May 10, 2021 was a day just like any other for the Leseberg family in Rock Port, Mo. Brandon Leseberg, a Missouri farmer and cattle producer, was working cows while his sons, Louie and Everett, played. As Brandon was closing the gate to head home, his sons stopped for a drink out of the water spigot nearby, just as they had done many times before.

As Brandon was still closing the gate to the pasture, he noticed Louie, who was just standing a few feet away seconds before, was nowhere to be seen.

**WATCH THE FAMILY AND FARMERS RECALL THE REMARKABLE RESCUE HERE**

“I asked Everett, ‘Where’s Louie? What was wrong?’ and he said Louie fell in the hole. And he pointed down, to a tiny hole through the board,” says Brandon.

What Brandon didn’t realize is the board that was nailed across the well to cover it up had rotted out in the middle over time. And as Louie was taking a drink, the board gave in, and 6-year-old Louie fell 70 feet straight down into frigid water at the bottom of the well.

“I bet that was only just a matter of a few seconds after he fell,” remembers Brandon. “I didn’t think. I just ran over to that hole that looked not much bigger than a basketball, and I didn’t see anything, and I couldn’t hear anything for a couple more seconds. And then I heard a splash and some gasping. And there was no thinking; I jumped.”

Brandon knew Louie could barely swim. And with the sounds of his son drowning, Brandon said time wasn’t an option. So, without thinking twice, he just jumped in.

“I went through the same hole Louie was in,” says Brandon. “I remember that I just jumped through that hole in the board, and I obviously made it a lot bigger. But you know, you don’t think. I was just looking for the fastest way down there.”

Without the board still covering the well, Brandon couldn’t see in before he jumped. And so as Brandon was freefalling, he says about halfway down something told him to reach out.

“Turns out there was a pipe [on the side of the well],” says Brandon. “After I jumped down and my eyes adjusted a bit in the dark well, it felt like it was quite a ways down. But when I looked up, I was able to grab ahold of the pipe that goes down to the well motor and stop my descent.”

Able to catch himself from falling on top of Louie in the bottom of the well, Brandon said he would fall, and then reach out to grab the pipe in order to help stop his fall. He did that three times, all while Louie was still screaming for help. As Brandon reached Louie, he reached for his son, while bracing himself against the well just above the water.

“I still had ahold of that pipe, and I just braced both my back and my feet up there and then grabbed Louie and put him on my chest, because the water – we never took the temp on it – I’m sure it was close to 50 degrees if not colder, and he was already shivering,” says Brandon.

Calls for Help

After Brandon reached the bottom and picked up Louie, he realized there was no way he could climb back up.

“Once I was down there, Louie had enough confidence in me, he said, ‘Alright, Dad, you can pull us out now.’ And I told him no, because the last 20 feet or so was so slick on the pipe, I knew I couldn’t hold onto it. It just like ziplined into the water.”

“He said, ‘Dad, how are we going to get out?’ I said, ‘Your brother Everett is going to have to save us.’ And so he goes, ‘How’s he going to do that?’ I said, ‘He’s going to have to run to the road.’”

From 70 feet down in the dark well, Brandon yelled up to his 3-year-old son standing up top.

“I just told Everett he was going to have to be a big boy and run out and stand by the mailbox until somebody drove by. And be a big boy for us, I told him. You’re going to have to save us,” says Brandon.

With strict instructions to stay out of the road, that’s exactly what 3-year-old Everett did.

Neighbors Helping Neighbors

“I saw him standing along the road, and we just couldn’t figure out why he was standing there,” remembers Christi McKenney, a neighbor who happened to drive by while Everett was standing by the mailbox. “So, we stopped. And he was saying, ‘My daddy’s in a hole.’”

As Christi and her husband, Mark, reached the farm, they thought the hole to which Everett was referring was in the cow pasture. But then she noticed the 4-wheeler was still running.

“And I said, ‘Okay, show me where he’s at.’ And he pointed down in that well. And then I yelled at Mark.

“I just jumped out of the pickup and called 911,” says Mark McKenny.

The Call to 911

The 911 call obtained by Farm Journal reveals the initial words spelled out during that call.

“911, where’s your emergency?” says the 911 operator. “This is Mark McKenney. I need some help. A guy fell in the well, and a boy is in the well,” answers Mark.

As the 911 operator asks Mark for the address, she also asked questions about possible injuries and details of the fall.

“How far did they fall?” asks the operator. “I don’t know, probably 40 to 50 (feet),” replies Mark. “Are they complaining of any injuries?” asks the operator. “I don’t know. They just said they needed help. He went down to get his boy out of the well,” answers Mark.

More Calls for Help

As the 911 operator asked more questions, Mark instructed his wife Christi to call their neighbor for help.

“I was so emotional, I can’t even remember what I said,” says Christi. “I didn’t even know if he could even get out of it what I was trying to tell him.”

That neighbor was Dan Athen, a farmer who lives just up the road from the Leseberg farm.

“When she first called, she was pretty distraught,” Dan recalls. “And what I got out of it was Brandon fell. I didn’t know what or where. And then she finally said ‘south of your house.’ So, I knew it was Brandon Leseberg. And then she got out that he fell into the well.”

Thinking it was just Brandon in the well, he thought fast after he hung up the phone.

“I knew how deep my well was, which is about 140-feet deep,” says Dan. “And so I thought to grab a barn rope; I didn’t even know how long it was.”

As Dan pulled up to the well, the 911 call captured his first words.

“Brandon, Dan Athen. We’re going to try to send a rope down to you,” Dan yelled.

“Then Brandon said, ‘OK, we’re going to send Louie up first,’” says Dan. “That’s the first that I knew that his son was in the well.”

Dan says with those words, his heart sank. Dan, a father, too, had his teenage son by his side. And, he says, to discover a 6-year-old was stranded at the bottom of the well was shocking and heartbreaking.

The Remarkable Rescue

Without wasting any time, Dan and Mark sent the rope down to get Louie first, but Dan still didn’t know just how far down they were, or if his rope was long enough to rescue the father and son.

“The rope Dan brought was like 85-feet long,” says Mark, a detail they didn’t know until after they measured it days later. “And we used about every bit of that rope to get him out of there.”

But as the men pulled the 6-year-old up, Louie was heavier than Dan thought he would be.

“All of a sudden, something broke free, and it got lighter,” says Dan. “Well, when he got up here, he had wires wrapped around his arm. And I think it was just pulling the pump up and dragging it up on the side of the well, too.”

At that time, Eric Duncan, who works on the Leseberg family farm, and Jacob McKenney, a family friend, also showed up to help.

“We finished pulling them up, and I had ahold of the rope right above his hands. And I just sat Louie on my knee while we took the wires off him,” says Eric. “I knew I still had a bunch of hoodies left in my pickup. So, I just picked him up, took him to the pickup, wrapped him up and turned the heater on as high as I could.”

Less than 9 minutes after the 911 call was made by Mark, Louie was out. And those initial reactions were also caught on the 911 call.

“You’re out, buddy. You’re out, you’re out,” you can hear on the 911 call. “We’ll get you in the pickup, and we’ll get you warmed up.”

With Brandon still at the bottom of the well, the five farmers knew he would be too heavy to pull him up with just the rope, as they did with Louie. So, thinking quickly, they used what was left of the old windmill surrounding the well as a hoist.

“We just started pulling and hollered down to Brandon to ask him if he was able to help pull himself up on the pipe. And he said, ‘Yeah.’ I said, ‘Are you ready to go?’ And he said, ‘Let’s go.’ And we started pulling,” says Dan.

Brandon says after he reached the top after the guys finished pulling him up, he collapsed from bracing himself against the walls of the well for so long.

“I was a little more exhausted than I thought from the adrenaline,” says Brandon. “That’s what keeps you going in a situation like that.”

Unexplainable Outcome

As Brandon looked around and saw emergency vehicles starting to enter the farm, he realized it was those five farmers who rescued him, as well as his son, Louie, before the ambulance had even reached the farm.

The series of events Brandon says didn’t happen by chance, as he remembers what he and Louie did while their 3-year-old son and brother ran to get help.

“What do we do? Did we pray a lot?” Brandon asks Louie, as Louie shook his head yes. “You asked me who was going to save us? Who saved us?” Brandon asks. “God,” answers Louie. “And were there angels all around us? Had to be,” says Brandon.

“Well, I think the hero here is probably Everett,” says Dan. “Sending him out to the highway to stop somebody for help. What would be going through a dad’s mind as you have your son in the well. How am you going to get help out of there? And what a trooper to go out there to the road for help. He’s the hero here. Not us. We’re just neighbors to help any time anyone needs anything.”

The five farmers performed one dramatic rescue after a fall of fate.

“I can remember being in the bottom of the well and Louie said, ‘Dad, are you crying?’ I said, ‘No. This is my happy laugh. It’s all I can remember,’” Brandon says as he tears up.

As Bandon relives the fall, he says it wasn’t a coincidence he and Louie both survived with only a few scratches. It wasn’t by chance the two fell more than 70 feet into a cold, dark well with no major injuries. And it wasn’t by luck that 3-year-old Everett, who doesn’t always speak the best, listened and found the words to tell Christi and Mark what had happened, all while Christi and Mark happened to be driving by and saw something out of place and knew to stop.

“Literally, we had about 2 feet, looking back now, or even a foot and a half, to clear everything where it was just a freefall,” says Brandon. “And you know, we both did that. So, there’s too many good things that happened that day that you can’t mark that as luck or coincidence.”

(Farm Journal)

Before the farmers hoisted Brandon up, he snapped this picture. His cellphone had been with him the entire time, but that deep into a well, he had no service to call for help. He captured the picture to remember that day and just how far those two boys fell. The small circle of light is the the top of the well. Brandon says he wanted to document the miraculous outcome, which is one not even those who witnessed it can still explain.

“How they’re alive is amazing,” says Jacob.

“You hear about people falling in the well, but you don’t ever hear about that outcome. It’s just, I don’t know, one in a million to be alive,” says Eric.

“We have angels looking after us,” says Brandon. “God was up there. There must be something special he wants to do with these boys is all I know.”

(Farm Journal)

Being “Well Aware”

This Father’s Day weekend, the story shows the lengths of a father’s love, one that proved to be a powerful and unbreakable that May Day.

Even before Brandon and Louie had left the hospital from being checked for any unknown injuries after the fall, Brandon had already called to get a concrete cap put on the well. And Brandon says he and the boys now count windmills on their drives, making sure they’re “well aware.” And the main reason Brandon agreed to share his story was in hopes it would help prompt others to cap their wells with concrete, and ultimately, possibly save another life.

The Final Sale: Support Pours in for Texas Trooper Chad Walker Killed on Duty

Fri, 02 Apr 2021 12:45:00 GMT

A livestock show and sale in Limestone County, Texas, turned into much more than a sale last week. Chad Walker – a Texas DPS trooper – was ambushed and shot on the side of the road in a rural part of the state last Friday. The incident shattered the small Texas community just hours before the scheduled livestock sale was to take place.

“The incident happened on Friday late afternoon and the sale was on Saturday at noon,” says Ty deCordova, Limestone County Fair Association president who oversaw the sale.

After the incident occurred, Walker was rushed to Waco and those close to him say they knew he was in for the fight of his life. As medical professionals worked to save Walker, the tragedy struck close to home for the Limestone County Livestock Association.

“He was an awesome father, an awesome friend, an awesome husband,” says deCordova. “Just always happy. He always had that little smile on his face, you know, when he came up to you. He’s good people, and he dedicated his life to civil service and just loved to help folks. If you ever needed him, you could call him. He’d help anybody. He never met a stranger.”

Walker wasn’t just a friend and former classmate of deCordova’s. He was a staple in the area. Most importantly, he was a father to two girls who showed at the fair only a few days before Walker was shot.

“We were sitting there doing the sale order, and it just laid out that we were selling the girls’ rabbits last. It just fell in the sale order that way,” says deCordova.

The Walker family’s rabbits were the final item to sell, and deCordova doesn’t think that happened by chance. As soon as the community started to learn about what the Walker family was going through, the livestock community stepped in to help.

“It was just kind of breathtaking,” he says. “All the support we had. All the people there that donated. It just shows you that in our industry, our livelihood, the ag industry is full of faith and family. It gives you hope, I’ll tell you, it does.”

Still astonished at how the generosity rushed in, he says it was an act full of faith for a family grieving.

“I didn’t know how much it would be; I never dreamed this, for sure,” says deCordova.

As the support started pouring in, he says it almost seemed orchestrated. But it wasn’t. And it all started to happen before the Walkers’ rabbits even sold.

“You sit out there and look out in the crowd, and the people that are there alone, and they donated just over $58,000; it was breathtaking,” he says. “It was pretty humbling.”

A humbling act of generosity that wasn’t finished there. A buyer of a hog donated back the hog and $8,000 to the Walker family. But then it was time to sell the Walkers’ rabbits.

“And then we did sell Charlie’s rabbits, they brought $1,000,” he says. “And then a group of guys put money together and donated another $6,000 on top of that. So, there’s $14,000 and then $58,000.”

After Saturday’s sale, the Limestone County Livestock Association set up an account to accept more donations for the Walker family—an account that has already reached over $40,000 dollars in just a few days. But just as the giving wasn’t finished that Saturday, it continued all week. Thursday, Superior Land Auction and Network kicked off a scheduled sale and raised $11,000 during an event in the Panhandle. In total, well over $100,000 has been raised for the Walker family so far.

“The outpouring of people that didn’t even know him, I tell you, there’s a bigger plan here than we all knew, in my opinion,” says deCordova.

The love spans for miles, for a man many never met, but all who knew Chad Walker say he was a man of faith, honor and sacrifice.

“It’s just what our industry does,” says deCordova. “We back our own, stand behind each other. I just love the community and this industry. There’s no doubt.”

On Wednesday, after days of fighting, Walker died. But those who knew him say he died doing what he always did, and that’s sacrificing, as they were able to keep Walker on life-support until they could harvest and donate his organs.

The Limestone County Livestock Association has a fund set up to continue to help the Walker family.

Related Stories:

County Fair Livestock Sale Pivots Last Minute, Raises Nearly $100,000 For Trooper Shot Just Hours Before

Fire Devastates Show Barn and State Fair Pig Prospects

County Fair Livestock Sale Pivots Last Minute, Raises Nearly $100,000 for Trooper Shot in Ambush Hours Before

Wed, 31 Mar 2021 10:54:25 GMT

Compassion and generosity. Just hours after tragedy struck, those two traits were on full display as the agriculture community showed its strength. Local Texas Highway Patrol Trooper Chad Walker was ambushed and shot on the side of the road in rural Texas last week, and the local County Fair, which was happening simultaneously, turned the livestock show and sale into a fundraiser for the Walker family, who was one of their own.

Walker, a husband and father to four kids, has ties to the fair. His children show in the fair and the community knew they needed to rally around their own.

But it was the grand finale that came with an emotional conclusion to the sale. Rylee Walker, Chad’s daughter, had a pin of rabbits that brought $7,000 to wrap up the fair.

“Oh my gosh, it was crazy. It went from nothing to $58,000 in less than three hours,” Brandi Getz told KBTX . “That is a big deal.”

The Limestone Country Fair was held last week in Grosebeck, Texas, with 100% of the sale of of a donated hog, and Walker’s daughters rabbits going to the family. With $58,000 in add-ons, a sale attendee told AgWeb the Walker family will get $73,0000.

A Facebook post revealed the 2021 sale brought $360,000 in total, which didn’t include add-ons for the family. But the generosity isn’t finished.The Limestone County Fair Association says it will continue to raise money for the Walker family. The Association set up a fund, and those wanting to donate can access a QR code here .

As of Tuesday, Walker remained in a Waco, Texas, hospital, but on life support. Reports indicate the Texas Trooper no longer has viable brain activity, but continued to be on life support to donate organs. The tragic last chapter comes after the officer had stopped to help what he thought was a stranded vehicle in rural Limestone County. The suspect shot Walker in the head and abdomen.

Grizzly Hell: USDA Worker Survives Epic Bear Attack

Wed, 27 Jan 2021 20:13:33 GMT

At the nauseating, audible crunch of bones breaking, 42 teeth of a grizzly bear’s jaws ground into Todd Orr’s body at 1,000 psi—enough pressure to crack a bowling ball. Pinned to the forest floor by 400 lb. of raw power and layered muscle, Orr felt scorching waves of pain surge through his nerves, shoot up his spinal column, and roar into his brain as the bear tore through flesh. Resisting the primal urge in every fiber of his being to scream and flail, Orr blanketed the agony with a phenomenal will to survive, and remained passive, listening to the macabre sounds of what should have been death.

Legendary. In the annals of survival history, Todd Orr’s account is incredible and magnified by a deuce: He skirted death in two separate grizzly bear attacks separated by mere minutes. Despite infinitesimally lean odds of emerging alive from multiple encounters, Orr staggered from the woods one hour after the attacks and recorded a surreal real-time video, and then drove an hour to a hospital to present his mangled body and half-scalped head to a bewildered medical crew. His chilling tale defies chance or coincidence, and touches a primitive chord. How deep will a man dig in order to stay alive, and how much pain will he endure? On Oct. 1, 2016, Orr answered the questions in harrowing detail.

Into the Woods

In the early hours of a fall Saturday in Bozeman, Mont., Orr , 50, arose from his bed at 4 a.m., bound for the wild, the same trip he’d made thousands of times across a lifetime spent outdoors. There was no moment of premonition; no odd itch of concern; and no portent to miss. He suited up in drab Carhartt pants and dark leather Alico hiking boots, donned a worn, navy blue baseball cap, grabbed a banana off the kitchen counter for breakfast, and exited his house—handgun in tow. Clockwork.

Waiting in the driver’s seat of a Toyota Tundra was an Osprey backpack lightly loaded with requisite gear: flashlight, duct tape, camera, GPS, lighter, Carson binoculars, Skyblade knife, fleece pullover and a Marmot rain jacket. An hour’s drive later, and still an hour before daylight, Orr pulled up to an empty trailhead parking lot, holstered a 10mm pistol, strapped a canister of UDAP bear spray to his chest, and began walking northeast with a dimmed headlamp to illuminate a dark trail, surrounded by some of the most breathtakingly beautiful terrain on the planet. He had no inkling of the hell to come.

Adrenaline Junkie

Born to the woods, Orr grew up on a fish hatchery outside Ennis, Mont., at the foot of the Gravely Mountains, roughly an hour from Yellowstone National Park, and spent a childhood beside the Madison River—dirt-biking, fly fishing, hunting and roaming the woods. Orr trailed his father’s steps on countless backcountry elk hunts, soaking in the nuances of scouting and exploration, and by age 12, had a bull elk under his harvest belt. A classic adrenaline junkie, Orr began bow hunting big game at 14, but less than a decade later, a snowboarding accident left him with two dislocated shoulders and permanently ended his ability to effectively draw a bow. Frustrated, but hungry for a challenge above a traditional rifle, he took up pistol hunting in 1987, buying a Ruger Super Redhawk .44 magnum. (As of 2020, Orr has harvested almost 30 bull elk, a moose, and numerous whitetail deer and antelope with the Ruger.)

(Farm Journal)

In 1990, following completion of a degree in fish and wildlife management at Montana State University, Orr began working with USDA-US Forest Service in the ecology group, marking timber sales. Since 2005, he has served as a trail construction engineer—designing, locating and surveying new trails in the Custer Gallatin National Forest. Orr is in his element at every opportunity, weather permitting, working alone outdoors 12-15 hours each day for eight months of the year. An outdoorsman’s version of a polymath, Orr is renowned for meticulous artisanship in knife making as the bi-vocational owner and craftsman of Skyblade Knives , and carries a heavy interest in wildlife photography, frequently stalking game with a camera lens. All said, his outdoor work schedule and personal time spent hunting and exploring in the woods are a ready-made recipe to jack up the odds of an encounter with Ursus arctos horribilis—the grizzly bear.

Wrecking Ball

Darkness lifting and temperature warming to roughly 60 F, Orr stuck to the trail, with silent steps on moist, minimal foliage, further masked by the gurgle of a 1’-deep stream running a stone’s throw to his right. Orr’s intention was to cover as much ground as possible by daylight, and then climb up toward the timberline. At 5’8” and 170 lb., with a lifetime of hiking and exercise, Orr would be 5 miles deep and 9,000’ high in quick time.

Orr was on a scouting expedition for elk in the middle of bow season, several weeks prior to general rifle season, and hiking up Bear Creek in the majestic Madison Range—an 80-mile section of the Rockies running between West Yellowstone and Bozeman, shouldered west to east by the Madison and Gallatin rivers.

The rocky peaks of the area reach over 10,000’ in elevation and the lower hills are covered with dense forests of fir and pine hiding green, aspen meadows and crystal-clear springs. It’s a hiker’s, hunter’s or photographer’s dream world, but the beauty hides the mercurial side of Mother Nature, and fortune can change on a dime.

All things considered, Orr’s best chance to spot an elk would be just after sunrise, and if all went according to plan, he would finish the day with 20 miles on his boots, and possibly a camera full of photos. In addition, elk scat, tracks and rubs would reveal whether there was a strong number of bull elk in the area, and worthy of a hunt a few weeks later.

Continuing on the path, Orr frequently paused to offer vocal warnings: “I hollered out regularly to let any bears ahead know I was coming up the trail, giving them time to fade into the brush and avoid an encounter,” he explains.

An hour into the trek, just after daylight, the faint trail opened onto a long and narrow grassy meadow beside the stream, tucked between a low, brushy ridge to Orr’s left and the rise of a steep, timbered mountain on the far side of the stream. The post-dawn air was crisp and cool, moving up the valley on a slight breeze behind Orr and carrying his scent across the meadow.

Eighty yards ahead, at the far end of the meadow, a large sow grizzly bear was walking just in front of two cubs, moving down the faint trail toward Orr. Sows typically become pregnant once every three years, and cubs stay with sows for roughly two to three years after birth. Orr had chanced upon a mature female, likely close to 400 lb., with a potential lifespan of 20-plus years. In a suspended moment of time, the hump-shouldered sow and Orr spotted one another in the same instant, as both bear and man froze in motion. The sow turned west and ran over the low ridge—cubs on her heels.

(Farm Journal)

“I watched and waited a minute or two,” Orr recalls, “before deciding she was long gone over the ridge, and I headed up the trail to the east, opposite of her direction. I assumed she was not fond of human contact and I would not see her again.”

Within two-dozen more steps on the trail, he heard a soft rustle of foliage and the slight snap of a branch over his left shoulder, and turned to see the sow. She had left her cubs and circled Orr, caught his wind, and was coming off the ridge, barreling through brush, grass and scattered trees at full speed, ears back and body low to the ground. In a blur, Orr was 40 yards away from an apex predator capable of covering roughly 15 yards per second—a 400 lb. wrecking ball of heavy bone and inordinate layers of muscle charging at 30 miles per hour.

Freight Trains and Water Balloons

Prior to 2016, Orr had seen hundreds of bears while hunting or working in the woods, and encountered several in close proximity on multiple occasions. At first blush, he assumed the charging sow would check up: “Most bears are usually just curious, and charges or attacks are very rare. In all the years I’ve spent in the woods, I’ve only had two bears that bluffed a charge, and none had attacked until 2016.”

Tucked into a chest holster on his left side, Orr carried a Rock Island Armory 10mm 1911 pistol, kitted with a Burris 2-7x32mm scope on a self-designed mount. The pistol was not Orr’s standard hunting choice, and he’d brought it on the off-chance an opportunity to harvest a wolf developed during the scout. The 10mm was relatively bulky with a 6” barrel, secured by a snap strap, and not conducive to quick-draw, lightweight bear protection.

With less than three seconds to spare, Orr instinctively reached for the 9 oz. can of bear spray strapped to the right side of his chest. “For the last 25 years, I only had the protection of bear spray while working at the Forest Service. I was not allowed to carry a firearm, so all my training, practice and thoughts were of bear spray and proper use.”

Still expecting a bluff charge, Orr removed the safety clip and raised the canister as the sow closed the gap. “I had practiced dozens of times for this moment, and hundreds of times in my head,” he says. Orr gave the sow a full blast of spray, turned his body sideways and went to ground for protection as the bear slammed into his body. Freight train through a water balloon.

Face in the dirt, hands clasped around the back of his head and forearms draped over his face and neck, legs drawn underneath, he was a toy in the possession of a capricious beast packing astounding physical prowess from head to tail: curved claws up to 5” in length, massive front paws sometimes 9”-plus wide and hind paws often over 1’ in length, a superb sense of smell far surpassing even bloodhounds, eyesight equivalent to humans, and a bite packing 1,000 psi, all wrapped in a physical package of outrageous core strength.

“As I hit the ground, she was immediately standing upon me with her front paws, and repeatedly bit my right arm and shoulder a half dozen times, before coughing and wheezing from the bear spray, and disappearing just as quickly,” Orr says.

(Farm Journal)

In a blink, the sow was gone, and Orr rolled over to scan an empty meadow cloaked in bizarre serenity. All still. In a few, short seconds, the sow had delivered five to six quick bites along his right arm, and then sank 42 teeth deep into the top of his right shoulder. Orr was bleeding heavily, but had sustained a series of puncture wounds with no arterial or organ damage. At this point, Orr’s survival was a given—provided he could get out of the woods.

Rising to his feet, Orr hit the trail at a fast pace, bear spray in hand, heading for the safety of the truck. Adrenaline pumping, nerves frayed, he cast his eyes in wide sweeps, unable to hear much beyond his immediate surroundings due to the flowing creek. At that precise point in time, Orr believed he was heading toward his truck and safety, but what he didn’t know, and couldn’t know, was suited for fiction. After the initial attack, the sow hit the ridge and exited downward, while Orr hopped the trail to reverse course. Translation: Bear and man were set to cross paths again at the tip of a rough “V” pattern.

The lower 48 states house a total population of just 1,800 grizzly bears, according to US Fish & Wildlife. Incredibly, and against all probability, Orr was set to encounter the same bear twice in the span of minutes. Already in extreme need of medical attention and stitching, Orr was about to bounce from fryer to fire. Comparatively stated, the first attack was a scrape; the second attack was hell.

Razor’s Edge

In 1823, Hugh Glass endured the most famous grizzly bear attack in U.S. history, after stumbling upon a sow and two cubs in North Dakota. After a savage attack in which the mountain man was “tore nearly all to peases,” Glass survived a prolonged encounter, only to be abandoned by his comrades under the assumption of his impending death. A living corpse, Glass traveled 350 solo miles to safety to punctuate an astounding survival tale. His story was given silver screen treatment in 2015, and the trapper-mountain man was portrayed by Leonardo DiCaprio in The Revenant, a 2015 movie featuring the most stirring portrayal of a grizzly bear attack ever set to film.

Maybe Orr was born 200 years late. Whether planned, or random, as Orr believes, the second sow attack echoed elements of the primal rage displayed in the Glass account. With almost five minutes elapsed since the first attack, Orr made 800 yards of edgy progress on the downward path when he heard the clear crack of a branch over the din of running creek water. Peering over his left shoulder, he caught the blur of the sow in full stride 15’ to his flank, and felt a near-instant blow across his back that sent him sprawling 10’ forward; no time for spray, pistol or flight.

In physical form, it was the same sow from the first attack, but in demeanor she carried an entirely ramped up state of ferocity. Hovering atop Orr, she bit down on his left forearm, tearing away two tendons, ripping muscle and breaking the ulna. Orr groaned and instinctively drew his arm in, but his movement further enraged and excited the sow. “I remember the pain from her first bite into my left arm, and the sound of the bone breaking,” he describes. “I pulled my arm away and made an audible sound, which triggered the bear into a frenzied attack, biting, clawing, shaking and tossing me.”

Essentially, the bear was rag-dolling Orr, and he immediately recognized cruel necessity: Eat pain until the fury ebbs. “She would bite into me, pick me up with her mouth, and shake me back and forth until I was flung to the side into the dirt. The adrenaline and the will to survive took over and I blocked out all the pain after the first bite, and focused on staying quiet and still, while she continued to chew on me.”

At all times a single bite or swipe from death, Orr was stomped, picked up, thrown, dragged, clawed, and bitten by the sow over several minutes, yet he maintained his faculties and clung to a sole shred of hope: Take the punishment, emit no sound, show no resistance, and stay as close to the fetal position as possible.

After enduring body slams and inordinate shaking, along with 30 bites across his back, sides and arms, Orr went partially blind, his eyes filling with blood from a deep 5” claw gash above his right ear that split open his scalp. “There was no chance of fighting back against a beast like this. A grizzly can kill an elk or bison, and one wrong bite or swipe of her claws could crush my neck or skull, or rip me open to bleed out. A bear’s claws are very sharp when they emerge from the den in the spring. They are dulled, roughed and chipped over the summer and fall as they dig for food, but with the immense power behind them, the claws are still plenty sharp to rip most any animal to pieces.”

(Farm Journal)

As the assault unfolded, an ironic fate was a razor’s edge from fruition: A man fortunate enough to survive one grizzly bear attack was fated to die minutes later from another, at the teeth and claws of the same bear. It was a dark, cruel humor, but Orr was having no part. His mind was hyper-focused on a single all-consuming target: life. “I don’t believe I ever felt fear or thought of death or family. I was too focused on survival and not moving or making a sound. Each time she would toss or roll me, I would instantly roll back to the face-down position to protect my vitals.”

Standing over Orr, probably convinced he was dead or dying, the sow’s fury subsided and she ceased the extremes of the attack, biting into Orr’s side and releasing, inadvertently turning his body closer to hers, allowing Orr, at the edge of his peripheral, bloodied vision, to have a surreal moment of near eyeball-to-eyeball contact with one of the most fearsome predators in all of nature.

The sow then dug into Orr’s lower back with her front claws, and again, sensing no movement or reaction, delivered the most hair-raising chill of Orr’s life, lowering her head to his back and breathing onto his neck, taking deep inhalations of his skin. Alternating between quick bites to his shoulder and more breaths to his neck for roughly 30 seconds, she stopped cold, and Orr waited for the coup de grâce that never came. After an eternity of minutes, Orr was alone and the woods were still one more time, save the gurgle of the adjacent creek.

Lazarus

Uncertain whether the sow had truly departed, Orr stayed in a fetal ball for 30-40 seconds and then unfurled his limbs, wiped the blood from eyes, and surveyed the scene. His gear was tossed about, including the pistol, which had been ripped off his side and thrown 15’. He immediately grabbed the gun from the holster, pulled the hammer back, and collected his backpack and bear spray. With the pistol tucked into the crook of his damaged left arm, and the spray at the ready in this right hand, Orr took a last look around—and spotted the worn baseball cap, crumpled on the forest floor. He reached down, grabbed the favored hat, and began what he knew was at least an hour walk even without blood loss and trauma. Move. Move. Distance. Distance. He could afford no assumptions: The sow could return at any point along the path.

“I hiked out at a steady pace, but not hurried or running,” he describes. “I didn’t want to increase my heart rate and the bleeding. My left arm did hurt terribly after the attack was over and the adrenaline subsided. The torn tendons, muscles and nerves felt like my arm was being crushed in a vice. I don’t believe I was ever in shock during the hour hike out. I was thinking straight and stopped to assess the wounds and check my bleeding two or three times.”

At approximately 8 a.m., Orr spilled out of the Bear Creek woods—Lazarus of the outdoors. Although one other vehicle had pulled into the parking lot, Orr stood alone, but safe. “Within 15 minutes after the attack, I was sure the bear wasn’t going to track me down for a third attack, but with 3 miles of wilderness to go, the thought of encountering a different bear on the trail did cross my mind. I would have been nearly helpless at that point with all my wounds. At the parking lot, I felt 100% safe and knew my injuries were not life threatening.”

Concerned about the safety of other hunters, and considering the bear’s agitation, Orr pulled a notepad from his truck and attempted to pen a word of warning. No dice. “My arm was dripping blood all over the note, so I gave up on the idea.”

Dropping the note effort, he grabbed his smartphone and shot several selfie photos, including one of the most unique survival videos ever filmed (destined for viral status), and it was stark, direct testament to a man with gravel in his gut. He spoke calmly into the lens about the grizzly encounter, almost as if the near-death experience was standard fare. “Yeah, life sucks in bear country,” Orr plainly stated at the beginning of the clip.

Simply, the video must be seen to be believed. “I’ve always had a high pain tolerance and the drive to push myself to succeed or overcome most anything, both physically and mentally,” Orr says. “I took the photos and video with just a couple of good buddies in mind. I really didn’t know how Facebook worked, and never expected more than a dozen friends to even see it. I seriously didn’t know what a viral video was until about 24 hours after posting it.”

Video in the can, it was time to tend to his wounds. A 30-minute drive down a jeep trail and gravel road, followed by 15 minutes of highway to the hospital, still lay ahead. Bloodied and bruised, adrenaline gone and his wounds aching, Orr climbed into the Tundra, performed the ironic task of securing his seatbelt, and left the sow in her realm.

Mouthful of Rocks

In the hospital emergency room, two doctors, one on each side of Orr’s body, set to stitching his wounds in tandem. Eight hours later, he walked out of the hospital and went home. (However, his injuries required surgery the following day for the broken bone, severed nerves, shredded muscles, and severed tendons.)

Six weeks after the incident, Orr returned to the scene. “I went back to the attack site with a buddy and faced my fears, knowing my life was meant to be in woods. The will to survive is strong and it’s amazing what the human body can endure in a survival situation. The attack, as well as watching my father fight cancer for the last 10 years, also reminds me of the importance of enjoying those things in life that make us smile.”

Five months after the attacks, while in the woods at work for USFS following snowmelt, Orr spotted a sow grizzly and a single cub at distance. His composure was steady, but the October memories were close and the anxiety heavy on his shoulders. Today, he still hunts the Bear Creek area, but no longer ventures out in the dark, and prefers snow cover due to paw print warnings pressed into the powder.

Orr now carries a backup, compact .44 magnum Ruger on his hip, but has no illusions about the additional pistol, or the efficacy of any pistol in stopping a grizzly. “A shot can also be effective, but take in consideration that the odds of killing or stopping a charging bear in its tracks are slim. A glancing blow, a hit to an extremity, or even a clean miss is likely, especially in a stressful situation like 400 pounds of teeth and claws coming at you at 35 mph.”

“And don’t just assume a pissed-off, charging bear will feel any pain from your bullet and run away. I was being chewed on for 2 minutes and felt no pain after the first bite and adrenaline rush. And wild animals have a much higher pain tolerance.”

(Farm Journal)

Roughly once a year, the angry sow returns—in Orr’s dreams, but he wakes each time before she attacks. “The incident is a reminder that our lives are fragile and the most unlikely events can happen to anyone. Every single day, something reminds me of that day I was attacked and it will forever be remembered.”

Indeed. In a humble manner, Orr downplays his actions on the morning of Oct. 1, 2016, but the depth of his mettle is betrayed by the video footage. Mouthful of rocks. The camera shows a man matter-of-factly describing two escapes from the brink of death—no hype, theater, or bravado.

Again, how deep will a man dig in order to stay alive , and how much pain will he endure? Ask Todd Orr.

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Why Wait for Someday? The Moglers Share their Foster Parent Journey

Wed, 23 Dec 2020 22:36:40 GMT

Maybe someday.

For years, Chet and Cassie Mogler dreamed about adopting a child internationally. With five young children of their own, they kept thinking that maybe someday it would feel right to make that dream a reality. Two years ago, Cassie heard about the need in their own community for foster parents. She sought out more information, but they both agreed that maybe someday it would be a better time to pursue foster care.

Shortly thereafter, their minister gave a sermon about using your talents to help others in need.

“I’ll be honest – I was frustrated after it,” Cassie says. “I’m not great at cooking or baking, don’t like to babysit and find it difficult to visit the elderly with five young children.”

Chet assured his wife her talent is parenting. At the time, she admits that hardly felt like a talent, but she spent some time thinking about it and brought up the subject of foster care again. But she and Chet agreed maybe someday it would be a possibility.

A few nights later, she was washing dishes and listening to a podcast. The host said: “You’ll always have an excuse for everything. There’s always a reason to wait for someday in the future.”

His advice hit Cassie hard that March night in 2018 – just do it. Why wait for someday? Chet suggested looking into the paperwork after harvest. But Cassie suggested they look at the foster care website that night. By the end of the evening, they had filled out the form, submitted it and not long after, received a notification about an orientation.

“Then it went boom, boom, boom. We heard stories of it taking up to a year and a half for big families to get licensed and we thought that would give us time. But for some reason, we were licensed by September. Our first kiddos came to us two weeks after we became licensed. It went really fast,” she says.

Awareness Leads to Action
Becoming a foster parent has been a life-changing experience for Chet and Cassie.

“There are kids in need all around you – in your own backyards,” Cassie says. “I’m more aware now of what goes on around us. There are kids right up the road or on your street who are being abused, neglected or go hungry.”

She admits she has developed more empathy, too.

“I have more compassion for children I see in public who are acting out,” she adds. “I’m more aware of how you need to raise children – a loving, safe, stable environment is extremely important.”

She doesn’t deny being a foster parent is hard. All kids have bad days, but foster children typically have experienced more trauma in their lives.

“But it’s amazing to watch the kids change and see how love, support and a safe environment allows them to grow over time,” Cassie says.

Chet says he looks at his resources differently now, too. Instead of thinking about what he can do for his family, he thinks more about what they can do to help others.

“I look at how we will use our profits differently. If we’re profitable and we’re successful, I think a lot more about others today. I realize how much I have,” he says.

There’s no better place to grow up than a farm, according to the Mogler kids.

The Gift of Life on a Farm
Farm life provides so many opportunities to learn life lessons, Cassie says. They have a chart on the refrigerator for the kids that helps them keep track of whose turn it is to go with Chet to do a special activity on the farm such as drive the tractor or go help with the pigs.

“It’s easy to take farm life for granted,” Cassie says. “I’m grateful the kids can go with dad to do fun stuff on the farm – a lot of kids don’t get to have that lifestyle. The best part is the time they spend with Chet. It allows them to bond doing something that matters and provides opportunities to learn.”

It’s been an eye-opener for the Mogler kids, too. They’ve been able to learn how different families operate and realize the gift of a stable home.

“It’s a privilege to lend a helping hand to those in need,” Chet says. “You don’t have to travel a long way around the world to make a difference. We’re young farmers and we need to stay close to home to take care of the farm, but this lets us continue to help out.”

Maybe someday came sooner than Cassie and Chet ever imagined. They both agree it’s been a journey they don’t regret.

“It was exactly what I was looking for – an opportunity to serve and help,” Cassie says. “Our faith has been a big part of our story – if you took faith out of it, we wouldn’t be foster parents today.”

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Speechless: The Call That Saved One Hog Producer’s Farm

Wed, 23 Dec 2020 22:31:58 GMT

“I’m not sure what’s going to happen,” South Dakota pig farmer Steve Rommereim confided to his friend Scott Phillips, a pig farmer in Missouri. “It’s bad. Real bad.”

The line went quiet.

Although Phillips had heard rumors that some producers were going to have to euthanize pigs, things weren’t that devastating in his area. The next morning Philips called his friend back and left Rommereim speechless.

A Risky Move
“How far are you from Remsen, Iowa?” Phillips asked Rommereim the next morning.

“40 minutes,” Rommereim replied.

“Well a truck is going to stop in your yard later today. It’s dropping off some weaner pigs in Remsen, then will come your way to bring back a load of your 300+-pound hogs to Missouri,” Phillips said.

Rommereim was shocked.

During a time when the hog markets were on a roller coaster to hell, his friend was just going to give up a chance to send a load of hogs to his packer? The thought baffled him.

“That’s a generosity that I personally don’t see often,” Rommereim says. “He risked a bit of his own production to help me.”

Sure enough, a truck and trailer pulled into his yard that afternoon. The driver slept there overnight and together they loaded up a trailer of 165 heavy hogs to head back to Missouri the next morning.

“I was stunned. I didn’t have to pay for trucking because the truck was up here anyway,” Rommereim says. “As they drove away, I thought, ‘wow, that’s really something.’ It just came from the goodness of his heart. He didn’t have to do that for me.”

For Rommereim, age 60, farming and raising hogs has been his life. His feeder-to-finish operation runs about 5,000 head at a time – a plan that got incredibly disrupted during COVID-19.

Having raised pigs for many years, the news of a new virus was nothing new to him. When he heard about novel coronavirus, he thought it was going to be another version of the flu going around.

“I didn’t get too panicky about it,” Rommereim says. “But then I started hearing about a lot of problems in China and began wondering what this was going to be like in the U.S. All of a sudden, it’s Easter, and they’re closing down harvesting facilities all over America.”

That’s when the panic set in. When the Smithfield plant he contracts with closed down in Sioux Falls, S.D., he had 12 loads lined up to go to market during the two-week period the plant was shuttered.

“All of a sudden, you’re asking yourself, ‘What does this mean not only for me, but for everybody else in this industry?’ Panic is the best word,” Rommereim says. “’What are we going to do?’”

Market Disruptions
After Smithfield shuttered, more plants began slowing down or closing due to COVID-19 outbreaks among employees and absenteeism. People were scared and rightfully so. No one knew what was going to happen next.

“All of a sudden you’re in this situation you’ve never been in and are trying to manage your way through it,” Rommereim says. “Slowing down rations, stacking young pigs up and coming up with strategies around maintaining and at least getting through the next week.”

With 12 loads canceled – basically an entire barn – Rommereim was forced to make hard decisions.

“I kept thinking, ‘I’m going to have to dig a hole.’ That was just unbelievable to have to think that way,” he says.

They were able to buy a little time because of double-stocking taking place in nurseries. This helped him figure out what to do next. They were also able to market a few pigs across four and five state lines, such as Missouri and Illinois.

“I know within South Dakota, there have been pigs sent to Oregon, Oklahoma and Texas and a lot of different places where somebody had some room. Most states were able to market pigs non-traditionally from selling pigs out the back door, giving pigs away, donating to local food banks and more. That adds up to more pigs than you might think,” he adds.

The market disruptions have led to many unanticipated events.

“Once you get over the suffering and pain of what are we going to do with all these pigs, it ends up being a good story in many ways,” Rommereim says. “Hopefully, there are going to be some new channels out there that we can access and not be so locked into the schedules. Right now, the schedules don’t mean anything anymore.”

It’s time to look for solutions to the fragility of the entire pork chain and the fact that these packing plants mean everything to us as producers, he adds.
“What are we going to do to safeguard that system? That’s a tough question to answer,” Rommereim says.

Source: National Pork Board and the Pork Checkoff

Tough Questions and Empty Barns
Answering those tough questions and walking through the challenges with producers is just one part of Rommereim’s new role as the director of membership, outreach and engagement for the South Dakota Pork Producers.

In May, Rommereim decided to utilize his years of experience and passion for the pork industry to serve the industry in a new way. He’ll still be raising hogs, but he’s looking forward to serving his state, too.

“One of my main jobs has been to call producers and check in on them,” he says. “It’s been very stressful for those of us that have spent our entire lives making everything better for our pigs, being more efficient, more productive, and now all of a sudden, I’ve got nowhere to harvest pigs and they aren’t worth anything. How do you how do you move forward in that environment?”

He’s lived through many challenging markets, but nothing like this. He is concerned about the mental health of farmers right now and this new role allows him to look out for his farming friends.

“We’ve had some poor marketing times, but not the kind where we may have to dig a hole and put pigs in it. I’ve talked to many producers who have said, I can’t do that. And I don’t know how to get around this,” he says.

Who could have predicted at the onset of COVID-19, that the hotspots would be around harvest facilities and manufacturing facilities? Fortunately, as a state, South Dakota did not have to euthanize many pigs.

“We’re in uncharted waters here,” he says. “And there wasn’t a way to predict any of that.”

At the end of July, Rommereim received the best news he’s heard since Easter. He was able to secure 12 loads and empty his barns.

“I’ll get to start over with the younger pigs and won’t have any marketing pressure on me for at least a couple of months,” he explains. “That’s very good news.”

What’s Next?
Dramatic changes to the pork industry will happen because of COVID-19, Rommereim says. He believes the unprofitability that farmers are wrestling with now will lead a lot of integration.

“There isn’t anybody left in the hog industry with enough capital to buy out those who have chosen or been forced to stop raising hogs,” he says. “The only people left with any capital are packers or other countries.”

He views natural integration as a move toward efficiency but says what’s happened here is not natural.

“My hope is this is a one-off event, and that it’s not going to lead us down the trail where there’s no real coming back from,” he says.

To be a pig farmer today, it takes a certain amount of integrity and loyalty, Rommereim says.

“Pig farmers are very high-quality, giving people who want to do the right thing,” he says. “I personally couldn’t be prouder of everything that’s gone on across the nation right now in the midst of the worst period in hog farming we’ve seen, at least since 1998. It just points to a lot of ‘put your head down – we’ve got to get this done’ thinking.”

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