Farm Forecast II

Jeff Hammond's first draft of our craft building design. These structures will house, in the "City on a Hill" a potter, a weaver, a woodwright, and a printer.

My recent out loud musings about our focus inspired these comments from Sharon of Victorville: "...Thank you for your true insight into the state of our nation, both morally and financially. If only the people who need to hear this could. I keep asking myself, where did all the intelligent, moral people in our government / country go?.."



Thanks, Sharon. I wonder too--and I'm even bipartisan about it. The other day I saw the press pictures of five past, present, or future presidents of the United States, and it looked to me more like a crime lineup than a gathering of the great.



I don't just blame this on the men in question, or even the people who elected them. I blame it on bad mythology, bad spirituality, and poor leadership in our churches. With respect to mythology, just consider our transition as Americans from the Horatio Alger novels ("Strive and Succeed" stories of poor boys who work hard to educate and improve themselves) to the "mind" of Stan Lee comic books and movies, about ordinary people who "mutate" into cob-web and fire-spitting freaks. On the spirituality front, we have gone from a nation who repents before prayer to a nation that prays without ever asking for forgiveness--a nation offended by the very notion of seeking forgiveness. On the church leadership front, even the most devoted of American church leaders have turned the church into a kind of drug and emotional recovery center. Jesus came to heal the sick, it is true, but not to chain them to their hospital beds.

When General Washington inspired his men to cross the Delaware and achieve a needed victory over the Hessians. he didn't get bitten, Stan Lee style, by a radioactive rodent and develop super-human scratching skills.

Where this leads me, with respect to our focus, is to remember that redemptive drama and mythology need to be part of everything we do here. It's not really enough just to buy raspberry preserves off the shelf. The story of how they got there is just as important, if not more so. I believe all of our staff, from farming to living history, need to be willing to tell the story of how the harvest came about, and how America came about. It wasn't by accident. It wasn't by mutation. It wasn't by entitlement either.

When General Washington inspired his men to cross the Delaware and achieve a needed victory over the Hessians. he didn't get bitten, Stan Lee style, by a radioactive rodent and develop super-human scratching skills. There is a cancer growing on the American soul when we shift from a generation of boy scouts seeking to "be prepared" over to a gaggle of creepy boy-warlocks, hoping to be Harry Potter. The story of America is really much more about Horatio Alger than it is about Peter Parker. That may sound like an outlandish comparison, but it sums up the primary differences between America's foundational principles and our present sickness: we were once willing to work for super-powers, now we want them spliced into our DNA by cosmic accident. We were once willing to help our own poor; now we want the Federal government to do it. We were once willing to pay for a doctor's visit; now we want free medicine to fall from the sky.



Of course that's only one of many principles that can come through in the human drama of living historians playing the part of the "former America." Another is simple virtue--politeness, a smile, encouragement, hospitality. When I was a graduate student at the Iowa Writer's Workshop, I stopped in at a university style shop to get my hair cut. The young woman who cut my hair was winsome, friendly, beautiful. I told a friend, afterwards, "heah, I think she likes me." My friend responded, "Be careful. You're in Iowa now. Everyone's friendly."



One of my proudest achievements, running Riley's Farm, has been the extraordinary level of genuinely demonstrated kindness shown by our staff towards the guests. I tell our people, "I don't want you to be 'corporate customer-friendly kind.' I want you to love our customers. They put the food on our table. While I can't say that we always live up to this virtue, the letter I received just the other day about Logan Creighton is a case in point:

I just wanted to let you know that my daughter, Tara and I came up from Redondo Beach, for a half day at Riley’s Farm on 12-31-08 and had a great time. We signed up for the archery, tomahawk throwing, apple pie baking, quill ink writing, and the music. There were only a few other couples on the farm that we saw and so we were not used to be one of the few. However, we were assigned with “Logan” (not sure if this is his real name) and found that he was so informative and passionate about what he was doing that we forgot we were the only ones around. We had a blast with all of the activities we did and although are last session was supposed to end by 4:00, I think we actually left close to 5:00. Everything we did, Logan was sure to give us the historical context surrounding the activity and had a wealth of information to impart to us. We’ve come to many events- the Civil and Revolutionary War events, Sleepy Hallow, Civil War Ball, and countless others but this was a new experience for us as we’ve never had such personal one on one at Riley’s. I just wanted you to know that you’ve got a wonderfully talented, personable, and historical asset with Logan and we so appreciated all of his talents and passions. Thanks for making this day a grand day indeed! We hope to see you real soon. My daughter keeps talking about our day at Riley’s.

We put a lot into our buildings, and the grounds, and I genuinely like the food in our restaurant better than all my favorite down-the-hill eateries,but it's the connection people make with other human souls that they remember. It's the drama, the smile, the laughter.

I believe that the experience will be more keen, and exciting, and educational, and memorable if we give the staff--on public days--a set of historical realities to solve, in front of, and with, the guests. Suppose a Quaker comes into town that morning and there's a bit of a theological tiff with the local Congregationalist. Imagine a peddler/ itinerant cobbler stumbles into town and a fight breaks out over who gets to entertain and feed him. (There is some basis for this; when news was slow, travelers were sometimes "fought" over.) Suppose the day begins with one of the local selectmen entering the public house, a little bruised and beaten from highwaymen outside of town. Perhaps the independent spirit of shared law enforcement could be demonstrated in the response of the staff, and the guests. (I know, I know; we can't hang anyone, but the drama of remembering swift, reasonable justice might be soul-satisfying in this era of the 10 year death penalty appeal.)

Ideally, the premise would come from an actual incident that was known well enough to have included a beginning, a middle, and an end--after the manner of good drama. The staff could be given motivation, and a few lines to remember throughout the day, and the guests could be given premise, and hints as how to help, but the final re-cap, and the lessons learned, would be hashed out at the 4:00 PM closing bell, with comparisons to the way the incident played out in history itself. We could have a slightly different drama every day.

What say ye?