This summer I interned with a cooperative’s agronomy department in western Wisconsin. I always looked forward to farm calls; however, when the growers found out I didn’t grow up on a farm, most of them raised their eyebrows. If I had a nickel for every eyebrow that shot up this summer, I’d have a lot of nickels. I’m sure a lot of my fellow Farm Bureau members are wondering how I got into agriculture, so let me tell you a little story.
It was an October morning in 2000. I was in first grade and we were going on a field trip. I was so excited that I didn’t get any sleep the night before. I bounced downstairs at about six o’clock to get ready and I saw my mother crying. I asked what was wrong and all I got was, “He’s gone.” I knew exactly who she was talking about. My uncle Dave—my dad’s brother—had died.
My dad grew up on a farm in a little Dane County town called Martinsville. Dad, coming from a typical Catholic family of that period, was one of nine children. My dad left the farm, and when my grandpa retired he handed the reins over to uncle Dave. When I was little my dad still helped on the farm which meant I spent a lot of time there. What I didn’t seem to take to heart at the time was that my uncle was very sick. You don’t notice much when you’re six years old. He’d been sick for a long time, and the last time I remember seeing him his condition had deteriorated. That was a week or two before he died.
After my uncle passed away, no one took over the farm. I don’t believe it will be a working farm ever again. I know that there were a lot of hard feelings (and there still are) over things that happened after the fact. However, it was that pain and sorrow combined with memories of the farm that really propelled me into wanting to honor my uncle’s memory—and carry on a family legacy that had all but perished. At first I wanted to be heroic and take over the farm, but I realized it would be much easier to pursue a career in agriculture and marry a farmer instead.
I wanted to go into farm credit but my love for writing and utter dislike for numbers led me down a different path. I plan to go into agricultural journalism so I can share farmers’ stories and put my God-given talents to use. I feel that anyone can accomplish anything once they start following their heart’s desires. And that my friends, is how I ended up going to UWRF. That’s how I ended up dating a dairy farmer. That’s how I ended up writing this blog post for Farm Bureau. The love of family and of farming, and wanting to honor a loved one…that’s how I ended up here.
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