By: Kimberly Warren
Associate Editor

"It must be really difficult for my parents and grandparents to know that what they have worked so hard for their whole lives might die."

I recently returned home to visit my parents in Traverse City. Every time I go home for a visit, I realize how much I miss the area. But it’s more than the amazing scenery and fresh air that bring back nostalgic feelings. It’s cresting the hill near my house and seeing the tip of our red barn peek at me. It’s looking out over the tops of acres of cherry trees. And mostly, it’s my parents. It’s funny, I never realized how amazing they are until I moved away.

Our publisher, Matt McCallum recently joined me on a trip to my parent’s farm for a quick tour and visit with my parents. My dad, Gary Warren, drove us around the acreage at both my grandfather’s (Keith) home and at our home – about 175 acres in all. On that land, my father and grandfather grow sweet cherries, tart cherries and apples. This was the first time I’ve ever actually sat down and listened to my dad talk about his business.

Crunched in the back seat of a pick-up truck with my mom while Matt and my dad sat in the front seat talking about farming, I realized just how smart my dad is.

He may not have graduated from college, but I think my dad – like so many other growers I’m coming to know – must be the smartest man on earth. He talked with Matt about business strategies, chemicals, equipment, varieties, and the list goes on.

As a young girl growing up on the farm, all I saw was that my dad went out in the orchards and didn’t return until late in the evening – often leaving my mother’s perfectly good dinner ice cold. I never thought that my dad was working as hard as he does. And I certainly never thought of him as something other than a farmer. Truth be told, he’s not just a farmer – he’s a mathematician, a chemist, a landscaper, a builder, a mechanic, an electrician, a student, a teacher and so many other things that don’t even have names.

Perhaps the most amazing thing I heard and saw from my dad that day was the love that he has for his life. He really knows his stuff, but he also really loves it. There was a special joy that my dad emitted when he talked about his work and his land – a love that I am certain he learned from his father. And that love is really what it’s all about.
I am so happy that I got to experience that part of my dad’s life. Maybe if my boss hadn’t decided to take time to visit with my parents, I might never have heard his stories. (I even learned that a favorite childhood play place on our farm is called Gobbler’s Knob. I just thought of it as a great place to escape.) I clearly should have taken the time to talk with my dad a long time ago – and now I have that door opened to continue learning about him, and from him. I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud of my dad in my entire life as I was sitting in the back of that truck on that August afternoon.

Something else I gained that day was a bigger respect for both my mother and grandmother. They have had to put up with so much as farmers’ wives. They did much more than sit in the back seat and watch their husbands work. Without them, there would be no farm. They held the family together, and they supported their husbands – not to mention handled the books, fed the crew and a whole collection of other imperative farm jobs that the men didn’t – couldn’t – handle themselves. And with this, they too radiate a love for the land and their relationship with it – a love that they have worked to instill in all us younger Warrens.

It must be really difficult for my parents and grandparents to know that what they – and generations of Warrens – have worked so hard for their whole lives might die because none of us in the next generation want to, or is able to, take it over.

I would love to hear about more growers’ lives and the stories of their families. If you have a story you would like to share with me, please feel free to call me at (616) 887-9008, ext. 110 or drop an e-mail to