Live on the farm where I was raised, but it was a convoluted path to get here. All I ever wanted to do was farm, after high school I tried farming with my Dad. By age 21 I couldn't stay under his thumb any more, quit and got a job in town, started working at a Case dealer in the parts dept, they bought another store and I eneded up runnning the parts dept in that one. After I quit, my Dad tried a couple different hired men, sold the cows, tried cash cropping, then asked me if I wanted to give it another try with a new deal. I jumped at the chance, worked for him for 7 more years, I was 29-1/2 and started talking about taking over(he was 67). He was unreceptive, I countered that I needed to know which way this was going because I didn't want to be one of those guys still working for Dad when he's 50. He said(actual quote)"Piss on you", so I quit.

I had another job lined up, since I had an idea what might happen. Worked there over winter, early spring I heard about a farm set up for dairy becoming available just a couple miles away. Talked it over with my wife, she told me she thought I was nuts but she'd go along with it if that's what I wanted to do. Put my 7 year old pickup truck up for security and borrowed enough money to buy a herd of shoulda-been-cull cows and a tractor and spreader. This was May 1986, right after the herd buyout when dairy was in it's darkest days. Bride and I both worked our tails off, started moving forward, in 1989 my Dad died of cancer, my mother passed in 1991, we bought the home farm from my siblings and moved here in 1992.

My parents bought this place in 1957, moved here when I was an infant, so it's always been home for me. Our kids have no interest in farming for a living, so when we eventually quit we'll just stay here.