Lebanon, Virginia: David Leonard

David Leonard is statuesque man whose presence reminded me of John Wayne a little bit. Mr. Leonard has about 1500 acres that he and his son (also named David) hay and run a cow/calf operation on. It is truly beautiful pasture, and we will get to that, but first a few things about Mr. Leonard:

We met him at a diner that sits right under his business office and he told us about growing up in this area and being involved in 4-H. He is mostly involved in real estate and development, which has been good to him in Lebanon. He has had his hand in the banking business, starting First Bank & Trust, which has focuses largely on helping farmers acquire low-interest loans for practical operations. David started the bank because many farmers were borrowing money from banks which would demand repayment even if the farmer had crop failure or some other catastrophe. This bank is very farm friendly and more willing to work with farmers who take the necessary risks and may not be able to pay on time.


We drove to the rolling fields in his big red truck after breakfast to see where the cattle and the Leonards make their home. The green grass rolls on and on, the only breaks being the fences and gates Trav dutifully hopped out to open and close as we drove through. The cattle have ample grazing room and the grass looked luscious. I could just imagine the cows mooing to each other about their scrumptious repasts out there in field 38. David is proud of his property and owns more than enough for the number of cattle he runs, but it's not all about the cattle, is it?

After winding for some miles through his property we peaked at a small cabin he visits periodically with friends and family. The view was relaxing and one could imagine many a campfire being held out front as the sun dipped into the Virginia mountains.


Later we had the pleasure of meeting his son. He is wholeheartedly involved in the businesses, both agricultural and development, and shares in the operations of the company.
After lunch, at the same diner, we continued south. We were gifted with a book from Mr. Leonard about the history of cattle farming in Virginia. He in one of those men who tells you his age and you don't even register the possibility; he's much younger than he is.

Castlewood, Virginia: Anna Hess and Mark Hamilton, Blogging about Homesteading

Trav told me that the next farmers (homesteaders actually) we were set to meet with seemed like very private people who appreciated their remote location and solitude. We were especially grateful that they agreed to meet with us and when we met Mark at the head of their driveway we realized literally how prized their privacy is! Anna and Mark are truly trying to homestead, creating a system on their southwestern Virginia property that will supply all they need for food and sustenance. The most significance departure from a traditional homesteader is this: they blog about it every day, and they call it the Walden Effect.

We climbed aboard the golf-cart-slash-off-road-vehicle and Mark drove us quite a ways. He told us they had issues trying to keep a bridge on the driveway, and then we reached the moderate creek that flowed casually through our path. The cart managed it just fine (previous interviewers have fallen off...it's like a test for outsiders to traverse), but I imagined the issues they must have during heavy rainfall. Mark was gracious and friendly, answering all of our questions with quiet patience. Anna came out of their abode with offers of iced tea or water which we gladly accepted. It was plain to see right away that we were in the presence of 2 inventors, scientists, engineers, and proud gardeners as every structure seemed improved upon with a homemade touch.
The chickens live in a mobile chicken tractor (created skillfully out of scrap) and drink out of specialized chicken waterers that Mark created (see details on their blog site at the bottom of this post). He saw that farmers with only a small flock of chickens did not have efficient watering systems; the chickens could easily turn over their water or foul (pardon the pun!) it. So he put together a special chicken nipple that attaches to a water bottle that attaches to the wall of the chicken structure, and the chickens basically sip at their leisure. Mark's inventions provide a source of income for he and Anna; they sell them online and spoke of the importance of bringing money in from outside Appalachia. This is a financially depressed area, but the internet gives them a global consumer base to tap into, allowing them to trade goods and money elsewhere, ultimately stimulating their local economy. Southern Virginia is known for its incredible culture, history, hardworking folk, and extreme poverty.
Besides the chicken waterer there is the deer deterrent, which looks like a child's mobile and makes a rhythmic scrape-pong noise that startles the faint of heart (deer are notoriously faint of heart).
The garden was incredible and we snacked on sweet luscious raspberries as we toured. Anna has Egyptian walking onions that were as tall as our thighs, rising up in wavy twists and ending in oval purple seed pods (hopefully we can grow some too since she generously shared a few pods!). Notice them in their portrait up top.

Anna and Mark find contentment in providing themselves with almost everything they need, and living away from most folks. As welcoming as they were with us it was easy to see that they could pretty happily survive without seeing outsiders for a long time. They also have a well-kept blog that features new posts daily and also has the designs for Mark's inventions spelled out for anyone interested in trying to build their own. The blog is full of helpful stories and advice and pictures for anyone trying to grow produce, tend livestock, preserve food, be entertained, or learn something. Visit them at The Walden Effect.

Harrisonburg, Virginia: Taylor Weidman, Eastern Mennonite University Garden

We met Taylor on our first day in Harrisonburg when Will Hairston was whirlwinding us all around town to meet farmers. Taylor is an energetic fellow, spending part of his summer working with the grounds crew at EMU. Taylor works with compost, chickens, and along with a core of a few other students, maintains the campus garden that supplies the cafeteria in the summer.
The garden is a relatively new addition to campus introduced by a professor in the Bible and Religion department, worked by numerous students, and studied by many of the science classes. There are long prosperous rows of lettuce and the first green globes that will be tomatoes have just began to show up. For Taylor the garden is a great way to experiment; for example he’s implemented the traditional Native American planting style of the three sisters (corn, beans and squash). They are planted together in a mound and they harmoniously thrive; the beans climb up the corn and fix the nitrogen in the ground that the corn needs and the squash provides ground cover.
Taylor is interested in going into ag policy, and he’s a big advocate for buying local because of the positive difference it makes to a local economy. This fall and winter he'll be in Southern Oregon, studying on exchange on the other side of the country!

Finding John Henry in West Virginia

Trav writing this time...

In West Virginia I went for a drive one fine day, leaving Kacy and Craig for some father-daughter bonding time. It was gorgeous; the trees, the mountain roads leading me up and down in elevation, the occasional opening of the foliage to provide striking views of Appalachia hillsides.

I found myself in Talcott. I parked, wandered the brick streets of this small town, and enjoyed watching the river flow under my feet when standing on the cement bridge spanning the New River. Then I popped into the Railroad museum, really just because it was open and I hadn't much else of consequence to do. It was there that I met India, a lovely woman in her 80's with well-combed silver hair and a railroad badge above her nametag. She told me the history of the New River Train (you may know the folk song), the Great Bend Tunnel (where John Henry, if he existed, hammered his fool self to death), and local railroad heroes. This town was built on coal and railroad.

In the museum were some amazing wooden figures, carved by a local some decades ago, representing all of the roles of a railroad team. At the head, under the arch of the Great Bend Tunnel stands John Henry himself, the black steel driver. Before him kneels his shaker, the man holding the spike to be hammered. Read on after the pictures for the history of the figures.

The railroad boss.
The grease monkey.
The lineman.
Hauling gravel.
The camp cook.
Leisure; note the dice and cards.









And it doesn't end there! The next day Kacy and I went driving again and found the Great Bend Tunnel itself. If John Henry lived on this earth, this is where he made history, beating the new machine, the steam drill. Standing at the top of the tunnel, where the road passes over the entrance, is a bronze statue of the man and some fading evidence of Americana tourism. Kacy and I paid tribute; we sat at his feet, pulled out the guitar, and we sang, as I'm sure many have done before.



s

When John Henry was a little baby boy,
Sitting on the his papa's knee
Well he picked up a hammer and little piece of steel
Said this Hammer's gonna be the death of me, lord, lord
Hammer's gonna be the death of me.

The captain said to John Henry
I'm gonna bring that steam drill around
I'm gonna bring that steam drill out on the job
I'm gonna whop that steel on down, lord,
Whop that steel on down.

John Henry told his captain,
Man, a man ain't nothing but a man
But before I'd let your steam drill beat me down
I'd die with a hammer in my hand, lord lord,
Die with a hammer in my hand.

John Henry said to his shaker,
"Shaker why don't you sing"?
Because I'm swinging thirty pounds from my hips on down
Just listen to that cold steel ring, lord lord.
Listen to that cold steel ring.

Now the captain said to John Henry,
I believe that mountain's caving in.
John Henry said right back to the captain
Ain't nothing but my hammer sucking wind, lord lord.
Nothin' but my hammer suckin' wind.

Now the man that invented the steam drill
He thought he was mighty fine
But John Henry drove fifteen feet,
And the steam drill only made nine, lord.
Steam drill only made nine.

John Henry hammered in the mountains.
His hammer was striking fire.
But he worked so hard, it broke his poor heart
And he laid down his hammer and he died, oh lord.
Laid down his hammer and he died.

Now John Henry had a little woman,
Her name was polly Anne
John Henry took sick and had to go to bed
Polly Anne drove steel like a man, lord lord.
Polly Anne drove steel like a man.

John Henry had a little baby
You could hold him in the palm of your hand.
And saddest words I heard that poor boy say,
"My daddy was a steel driving man, oh lord."
"My daddy was a steel driving man."

Now every Monday morning
When the blue birds begin to sing,
You can hear John Henry a mile or more,
You can hear John Henry's hammer ring, lord lord.

You can hear John Henry's hammer ring.

West Virginny!

West Virginia was our next stop because that is exactly where my father now lives, and I have never visited him there. What we didn't account for was the fact that my dad lives on top of a mountain and there are minimal farmers who would choose to farm in such inhospitable terrain. So we took a semi-unscheduled break filled with outdoor theater and no-mercy croquet matches and picnics and breadmaking and Trav made a few feasts that will go down in the feastmaking hall of fame. He taught my stepmother Linda how to poach an egg the correct way, and as of yesterday she was still preaching the poached egg gospel (Trav uses a metal spoon and dips the egg into a shallow pan of water).
We went on sweet hikes starting right at the back door of the house; I learned that my stereotypes of West Virginia were just ugly myths- the people were lovely, the food was great, and everyone I met still had all their teeth (except my dad, who is from Connecticut). So shame on me, I apologize, West Virginia, and I hope I am forgiven soon because I'd like to visit again.
One funny accent story was this: in the small town of Talcott we saw a long line of people waiting outside a thrift store. Trav asked a local who was standing in line, "what's going on?" He replied "Thar ge'en way domahtoes". We walked on and pondered that and mad-gabbed it until we came to the conclusion that they were giving away tomatoes.
We also met one Mr. Cool, who bears striking resemblance to Craig Spooner: