By Rick Houser-

I’m sure this might be getting old but I feel it must be said one more time at least. There is a part of my life I have always felt very strong about and still do.
I was born and raised on a farm. With that short and direct statement, you probably can see where I am headed. From the earliest memories I have, our farm was the first and foremost thought that I had. I wanted to be a farmer, never was there a doubt in my mind. Like many a little boy, I wanted to be like my idol and do what they do. My Dad farmed and therefore so did I. My Dad was my idol and truthfully he is still my idol. For some reason I feel that his background of being raised a farmer has something to do with how well he turned out.
Dad was good as a farmer and in those early formative years all I saw was that he was a farmer. I think maybe I wasn’t quite able to grasp that it takes so much more to be called good at something. Dad was good at so much of what makes a person what we all want to be. As I got older and I began understanding there was more to my passion to be a farmer than just driving a tractor. As time moved forward and I learned that to be a farmer there was really a lot a man had to do. The title has a good sound to it but let me tell you the job description covers a lot of work that is neither easy nor pleasant, but still must be carried out for any farmer to proudly wear the title of “successful”.
One thing that was an absolute must was that you had to love the land. To this day I still love the land. If you are going to work the soil to produce for you, it is necessary to understand how to work it. When a farmer takes a first look at a field he is going to grow a crop in, he had better understand its assets and liabilities. Even if the soil is not rich, a good farmer will work with it to maximize a crop’s yield. A farmer that doesn’t understand the soil can take a field that is rich and come out with a poor yield. If you love the land, you will understand it from the beginning until the harvest.
When a plow turns the sod over and the fresh earth rolls to the surface and you begin to smell the fragrance of the fresh earth mixing with the air it is a captivating fragrance. To farmers it might give them cause to work the earth even harder. I know that as I farmed I can stop today and think about a field of freshly mowed hay just as if I’m standing in that field today. A corn field or wheat field gives me cause to think I am there also. Walk through tobacco and you will never forget that fragrance. It grips you in a fragrance that is bitter but also one that reminds me at of the thought of money.
From the beginning when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer was always the same, “I am going to be a farmer.” To be one with the land meant everything to me. To connect with mother earth was the ultimate way to earn a living. So I followed my dream for awhile. I was in charge of our farms and I rented some around us during the 60’s and into the 70’s.
But being a big- scale farmer was fast changing. Support for tobacco, which was our cash crop, was fading in government support. Two things I say are, ” I used to farm when there was a living to be made in it”, and “That was followed by many other farmers being caught in my same situation.” It was said that to continue farming you either had to get bigger or get out. Now saying this when it was happening hurt me. The last thing I wanted to do was to be separated from the farm. To lose touch with the land is to lose touch period.
Growing up in the 50’s and 60’s the way I was raised was the main lifestyle of the time. Fields of crops and you were proud to be seen in on your tractor on a sunny day, with whatever crop you were in was waving enough to show off its quality. It was a time when working in a large garden was another way to prove just how good you were at your craft. As a small child I would ride on the tractor with my Dad and lean on the fender. (At that time I knew Dad needed my help.) As I grew I got to be the one operating the tractor and equipment and I enjoyed crossing a field and it didn’t matter if I was plowing the ground or planting the crop or most of all harvesting the cro.
I want to say I was a great farmer, but I doubt that’s true. I was a good farmer and that was because I was taught well and I wanted to be good at it. I still live out in the country as I just don’t think I could convert to the life in a city. (I’m just not city material.) I do roto-til a small patch to grow something in so I can smell the earth in all its glory.
Since I live in the country I get to drive by many fields and I slow down to see how each of them are doing. These days farming has gotten bigger just as I was told it was going to be and the equipment is massive in size and almost hard to imagine. Yet I am gonna go out on a limb here and say that I bet those farmers, even though they cover wider spaces of the earth, still all like to enjoy the experience of the ground they are working with to raise a good crop. I’m also gonna say they will tell you they love being a farmer and all must think it even if they won’t say it. “I love that land!”

Rick Houser grew up on a farm near Moscow in Clermont County and loves to share stories about his youth and other topics. If you would like to read more that he has written he has two books for sale “There Are Places to remember” and “Memories ARE From the Heart.” Contact him at houser734@yahoo.com or mail him at P.O. Box 213 Bethel, Ohio 45106 and find out how to purchase one or both books.