Farmers are Heroes
Farmers Are Heroes By Troy Bishopp I was at the NY Farm Bureau annual meeting when I heard my NYS Agriculture Commissioner, Pat Hooker say his old pickup had a sticker on it that read, “farmers are heroes”. His story of respect for the farmers of this country was truly memorable for me. I share this with you against a backdrop of incredible sorrow for one of our own local farm families. It’s hard to believe two months have gone by since we all mourned the loss of one of our young farmers, Joe Brady, to a traffic accident. I remember Joe’s dad saying teary-eyed, “even with a funeral, the cows need to get milked”. Can society grasp the depth of this farming badge of courage in the midst of this unbelievable hardship and still feed the nation? There was something about that statement that had me clutching my Kleenex as I made my way back to the truck. I went to start my well-worn, faithful, farm friend but paused between tears long enough to see ahead of me an equally seasoned counterpart. On the bumper was an equally faded “farmers are heroes” sticker. Ladies and gentleman, I will tell you that a rush of emotion came over me like a wave hitting the beach. How could that phrase, those words, the simple prose debilitate a grown man to a puddle of mud? I’m still trying to figure it out. It is fitting with Veteran’s Day approaching that I write about these heroes, many from my experience, have come from the farming community. I can start this conversation right at home with my dad who was a true, blue, FFA farm kid. This was a different path taken, as his dad and granddad were farmers during World War I & II. He was drafted after his first year at Cornell at the very beginning of the Vietnam War. He served this country in the army overseas working on trucks, equipment and delivering petroleum. He honored us by wearing his country roots inside the uniform. He is modest about his service as a “job that needed to get done”. Thanks dad. Similar sentiments resonate with a young farmer Marine I know, that served in Iraq. His father, also a retired Marine, kept the 7th generation dairy farm going, under the stress of wondering how his son was doing. It was certainly a challenge to milk the cows 7 days a week for 4 years waiting for a loved one to return back to the farm. I think this father and family were equally brave “milking those cows” while our future farmer was in harm’s way. I have had the good fortune of sweating, side by side, with this young “Mr. Apple Pie and Red, White and Blue”. It is interesting indeed, to build fence together and talk about how he survived the close calls of war. The stories about darkness, faulty radios, land mines, ambushes and losing a soldier seemed almost unbearable for a young man or woman to go through at the prime of their life. The thing that impressed me most was his modesty about serving this country. “It’s an important job to serve this country”, he said. He also added “many forget, freedom is not free”. I saw out there in the pasture, a young man with no visible injuries, but my intuition tells me there are scars inside. You can’t help but change after you see first hand, the tragedy of war. Recently, I have come to know a young man we call T.O. He, like many of us farm kids, played with Army men and G.I Joes while staging mock battles around the fringe of cornfields and thickets. His mom was scared when he mentioned the words, “joining up” and got him to commit to college instead, even though the passion to serve was brewing. And then 9/11 happened, and the call to patriotism was too strong to deny. While a freshman in college he joined and trained in the army reserves and by Thanksgiving of his junior year he was deployed to the ravages of Iraq. “ What does a farm boy do over there?” I asked. He likened his experience to being the “Triple A of Iraq.” “ I basically was a crane operator and jack of all trades (sound familiar) picking up damaged shells of army equipment from the battlefield and delivering supplies in big containers to bases around the region. We were very aware of RPG’s and ambushes at any moment, day or night. I grew up fast in this arena of stress and it made me appreciate my farming roots”. “I would say the hardest adjustment coming back home has been the lack of “excitement” and losing the close bonds of people you depend on for your survival. This bond is powerful,” he concluded. My Memorial Day piece in this paper sparked some intense feelings about these heroes from remembrance of loved ones to pride for today’s men and woman in uniform. Many of you have written, telling me about someone you know going overseas or coming back injured. I also can’t help but feel the sting from those telling me about a loved one’s death. We have certainly felt this pain in our own community. It is an honor for me that you would consider me a friend enough to share in this pride or pain. Your stories have also helped me heal in a time when I really needed that extra spark. Thanks. How is it we keep going on after a flag or a farm cap is left at a gravesite? You have to have faith in the Lord and in each other. We must never forget the sacrifices people have made for our freedoms and for those that have nurtured this land with modesty, love and compassion. For all of you veteran farmers and your families, we salute and thank you for your service to this country. Published in Lancaster Farming 11/9/2008