The hardest farming decision farmers have to make

In the past, most farmers dreamed about their sons taking over their farm. A husband and wife worked their butts off to keep the farm they may have inherited from their fathers. They certainly didn’t want all the sweat equity they contributed to be lost. I could never figure out the rules that applied. The oldest son was often kicked out because of the young ones coming, and he became a farm owner down the road, and the youngest son — or one of the other siblings — ended up with the home farm. Every family was different.

In the past two generations, the girls are proving that they are capable of managing dairy farms. Whether its sons or daughters, the big question remains: How does it get transferred to the next generation of future farmers? How? Who? When?

When I was practicing veterinary medicine full-time, I observed the transfer many times. Some went very smooth; A son or daughter became an owner, and dad’s role changed overnight. He became an employee, the go-fer and the bank in some cases. The parents’ savings account was their farm, and that hopefully gave them enough to live out their lives happily.

As a member of the St. Joseph’s Hospital board, I noticed many former farmers and spouses as residents in our nursing home. Many did not have a descendant who was willing to take over their farm. I watched those farmers being told to sell the farm before they went to the nursing home to prevent the state from claiming it as payment for the nursing home. In many cases, the non-farming kids would stop and see dad and mom in the nursing home twice a year for Christmas and Easter. They would expect the state to take care of their parents after they had given all their assets to their children. I have since told many older farmers, “Be sure to keep enough so you can take care of yourself in your later years.”

Banks, dairy organizations, co-ops and others have been very good about trying to educate farmers about farm transitions. One of the problems is the farmer himself. I know because I am that person. At a Professional Dairy Producers workshop about transition, I was seated at a round table. As lunch was coming, one of the fellas at the table said, “We busted our butts to make it farming all our lives, and then we have to give it away to keep it in the family.” He was right, but there are some things to make the results not sound so negative.

Being hungry for information, I contacted many so-called experts and asked them for help in ways to accomplish a transition. In almost every successful farm, there is a father, a pair of brothers or someone who worked literally every day, every holiday, weekends and nights to build a business. They eventually could operate profitably and give some time off to others. That driven individual sacrificed a lot to create a success story. In many cases, he may not have realized the price he was paying, but in hindsight, it may have been necessary to put the business where it is today. The fear of losing the farm because you didn’t work hard enough or make the right decisions was and is a strong influence on a farmer’s mentality and decisions.

In my case, we even had “experts” visit the farm, take data and interview the people involved. In two cases, they said we were impossible to corral and too stubborn to listen, but being stubborn and fearful are not reasons to lose hope. A few years ago, I arranged for a transition attorney from the eastern part of Wisconsin to visit me and my three adult farming children. The meeting started cordially. Then, I got an important phone call and left the conference room to get better reception outside. Within 10 minutes one daughter came out, not in a good mood, and then a second daughter came out, also not in a good mood, and the lawyer finally came out and said, “Well, that didn’t go very well.” The girls had concluded that the lawyer was chauvinistic and told him to leave.

Since that event, we have succeeded in creating a way for our farm to operate and to exist for hopefully many generations. Honest communication and a sense of ownership, even if it is small, have led to a better understanding of the plan our attorney and I developed. Also, I now realize the importance of moving to an advisor role rather than just being the boss. Yes, I still will be giving the farming kids assets, but they will also be taking care of me as I try to let go and be an advisor. I believe in the transition doctrine: Fair but Not Equal. In my case, it means those kids who farmed — and never complained about money for themselves — deserve the farming assets which I hope will be passed on to other generations. This is a tough life, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a happy life.

We have an attorney who grew up on a small dairy in Missouri, likes venison sausage and has a good crew. She constantly has ideas about how to make our plan better. She’s also younger than me, so she can see the plan implemented from here on in.

Feel free to contact Jim at jimmlsna@icloud.com.