MICHAEL SWENSEN

The Legacy of the Land

Photos and text by Michael Swensen

HARRISON COUNTY, KY-  Nick Farmer decided that he was going to be afarmer (ironic) when he was 16 years-old. Now 40, Farmer cares for 860 acres ofland by himself. This includes 250 head of cattle, five acres of hemp, 350acres of hay and ten acres of corn.

Nick’s grandfather Gerald Whalen,founder of Whalen & Company, owned a large amount of land in HarrisonCounty, Kentucky, and heard that Nick was a good farmhand. “My grandfather saidthat I should try my own crop while I was young… I went to the bank with himand they gave me a loan in his name.” In 1999, Nick planted his first tobaccocrop of 20-arces. “The first year was intense, everyone came out and helped. Evenmy grandmother was helping strip tobacco.” Farmer describes his first year as afarmer being some of his fondest memories.

 Still, he was unsure if it would become hislife. “I just knew that I wanted to be outside, but I didn’t know if farmingwould be practical”. Then, in 2003 the whole tobacco system changed. The U.S.Government decided that they would no longer play a roll in the tobaccoindustry, and let farmers deal straight with the tobacco companies.

A program that began in 1930s thegovernment would allocate a certain amount of tobacco depending on the acreageper farm, this was called a base. When the program ceased, the government gaveall tobacco farmers a buyout at $12 per pound. Nick had 60,000 lbs. allocatedto his farm at this time. He put all of the money away to put towards a farm ofhis own one day. “Some farmers grew tobacco their whole life and quit two yearsbefore the buyout and didn’t make anything”, exclaimed Farmer. “It would havebeen tough to start farming without that money.” 

Once a stable market, now wassubject to the ebbs and flows of the economy and climate. Nick continuedgrowing tobacco, despite the variable market. When in 2018 Kentucky received 71.0inches of rain according to the National Weather Service. This massiveaccumulation drowned 90% of his crop. This was his way out. “Tobacco was goingaway, companies were cutting contracts back, help was so scarce. You had toraise a bunch of of tobacco to get any H2A workers. I always figured somethingbad was going to happen to make me quit. So, after the rain and I didn’t getthe crop to the barn, I figured that was a good time to quit.”

With the small amount of money thathe earned from insurance, he decided to try himself in the hemp movement thatwas taking hold in Kentucky. With the help from a local farmer and friend Nickacquired about 2,000 hemp seeds and the basic knowledge to grow the new crop.“I already had the equipment, everything was there for me.” The infrastructuralchange from tobacco to hemp was easy on Farmer because he could renovate all ofhis old tobacco equipment to better suit hemp, even his 1960s two-row tobaccosetter that he bought for fifty-dollars his first year planting tobacco.

 Though, he was still missing a few things andit was early April. He knew that farmers would be setting hemp come early May. Heshopped around for a cheap greenhouse so he could manage the temperature andlight of his new seedlings. “I thought it would be a good year to experiment,So I bought clones, seeds, and even cloned some myself.”

For clarification, a clone is abranch or twig cut from a mother plant, then a root hormone is applied and fromthere it can be placed in a tray of dirt. It takes the clone about two weeks todevelop roots before it can be placed in the field. Making a clone is aguarantee that the plant will have the same genetic makeup as the mother plantit was trimmed from.

The history of hemp has roots back to the late seventeenthcentury. According to record, the first hemp crop was planted in 1775 nearDanville, Kentucky. Hemp fiber was sought after for the production of textilesand rope, especially during the world wars for maritime use. Harrison County isnoted to have played a role in the cultivation of hemp and production of hempproducts in the 1800s to early 1900s. Sure, it made a strong run, but was soonstomped out by the tobacco and corn industry.

Nick’s plan is unlike many of thefarmers in Harrison County, and across the country for that matter. He keepshis operation small enough that he can manage the farm by himself. “I keep itsmall, so I don’t need a large labor force to manage and pay.” Originally hisplan was to only plant about an acre of hemp, but more seeds and clones werethrown his way, which ended up as a total of five acres.

As much as Nick may work (365 days a year), it is all forgood reason. He does it because he loves the land. So much so that he wants hisson to have what he has cultivated. He wants something vast that he can leavebehind, a legacy of sorts. “I want Aldo to walk every inch of the farm, knowall the names of the trees, flowers, birds and stars” says Farmer. Nick movedaround a lot as a kid and young adult. Rarely in a place for more than fiveyears, stating the fact that he was never rooted long enough to becomeattached. “I’m hoping that he spends so much time here that he won’t be able toget rid of it.”

Ashley, Nick’s wife, is a school teacher in town and hasmade the comment “I work a steady job so that Nick can farm.”  Nick reflects on how lucky he is to haveAshley, someone who shares the same goals and values. “She makes all of thispossible, money would be tight if she stayed at home… She also wants Aldo tohave the opportunity to live on the farm.”