A22—Lancaster Farming, Saturday, July 25,1981 BY SHEILA MILLER FRYSTOWN - Getting started and staying in farming is not, nor has it ever been, an easy task. It takes commitment, hard work, scrimping, scraping, and a certain faith that things can work out. Under the best of conditions and •luck’, the effort to"make a go of it as a fanner is enough to make all but the stout-hearted throw up their hands in defeat. For those who also face the agony inflicted by drought, accidents, and disease, the struggle to survive requires an almost superhuman strength and desire to go on. One couple who battled the elements and obstacles con fronting the new farmer and emerged the victor is Carl and Eva Bross. After a 20-year, uphill tight, this Berks County couple can be considered successful dairy far mers. They aren’t, however, the largest operation in that county— with 112 acres ot corn and 100 acres in alfalfa hay and pasture. Nor are their 70 head of grade Holstein at the top of the DHIA list—with a rolling average of 14,719 pounds milk and 319 pounds of tat. But this couple serves as an inspiration to their children and those who know them that it is possible to make an honest living on the land. “No start is easy,” confides Carl in a quiet voice, tinted with a German accent. His start m far ming on his own began at the age ot 25 when he bought a 65-acre farm (the present home farm) in 1957. “1 was operating with borrowed capital then,” he recalls, “and that’s still a problem today, making it hard tor anyone to get started. It’s a time of high interest rates and depressed prices in all ot agriculture, and it’s beginning to reach into the dairy industry.” The question ot profitability in tarmmg is not a new one tor Carl who answers it with stubborn optimism. “The land is there to till and plant and to do what 1 know how to do. There’s a certain blessing we seek, and the other things seem to fall into place. ’ ’ Carl began his soil stewardship career with a sound background, having worked on his father’s neighboring farm where they raised chickens and milked 26 cows. “When I bought my hrst tarm, my father was ready to slow down so I took over the herd of cows,” he recalls. Before becoming a land owner in his own right, however, Carl was called to serve his coun try. Because of his religion, he was assigned to alternative service, working with other Brethren volunteers in Europe. It was during his stay in Kassel, Ger Eva shares a moment with Chris as they the Americans and French who sent food to practice a difficult duet on the families’second- the demolished cities, like Kassel. “The hand piano. Having experienced the Quaker speise brought us raisin buns to eat devastating effects of WW II in her native when we had only bread baked with sawdust Germany, Eva remembers the generosity of a sweet memory in misery." There’s no many, where they were rebuilding a school, that he met and became friends with Eva. A native of that war-torn city, she was working as a nurse at the time. Carl returned to the U.S. after his two years of service was up, but traveled back to Kassel at Christmas tune in 1958. “That’s when the chemistry started boiling between us,” Eva laughs. "We wrote only one friendship letter to each other after Carl had gone back to the U.S. It surprised me to see him again that Chnstmas...but m February we were engaged. Three days later, Carl left to go home to farm. We were separated for nine months until Carl came back on November 30, 1959. We were married on December 19 and sailed tor the U.S. on January 3,1960. "1 was from the city, so coming here to the tarm was so much to adjust to,” remembers Eva. “But now I love the farm probably more than someone who grew up on one. 1 would never go back to the city.” Eva’s first impression ot the U.S. farmland as she came to this country as a newly-wed German bride still stands out in her memory. "It was amazing to see held alter field ot corn it was so tall. When I left Germany there was no corn. But when 1 returned for a visit in 1977, German farmers were growing corn tor silage, possible with breakthroughs and progress in genetics.” With his new bride and tirst tarm, Carl began tarmmg m earnest in 1960, In order to expand his operation, he purchased a nearby farm adding 95 acres to his original 65. And tor three years, the Brosses were tarmmg with good fortune at their side. Then, from 1963 to 1967, a severe drought shriveled the crops and dwarted the corn in fields were it had stood like giants before. "In this country, everythng goes to extremes,” exclaims Eva. "It made the beginning very hard. We had to buy feed. I had to get used to thousands ot dollars ot obligations which was something new. Sud denly we were confronted with an emergency planting, pur chasing, borrowing.” But the drought ended and the Brasses were stiil tanning. Their crops, herd, and three sons, Stephan, Dennis, and Christopher, were growing strong... Then, in 1973, "the props tell,” Eva recalls. That August, as Carl was pushing some fallen trees onto a heap with a trontloader mounted on tus tractor, a treak accident left him with a broken back and pelvis. "1 had Chris, who was two years old then, riding on the tractor seat with me and we were pushing the easy start in farming Carl and Eva Bross, right, began farming that sons Dennis, far left, 18, Christopher, 10, near Frystown, Berks County over twenty and Stephan, 20, are free to choose a career in years ago. Despite drought, accidents, and agriculture, whether farming or engineering, other almost overwhelming dilemmas, they or any other profession they want to follow. continue to perservere in the dairy business so The Brasses work hard at farming, having learned a number of hard lessons along the way, not unlike many of their fellow farm neighbors. Their operation is not the most modern, with their milking still being done in ?! trees together. For some reason, 1 decided to set Chris ott and a tew minutes later 1 was pinned under a tree that somehow came up over the tront ot the tractor. Luckily my nephew was there and pulled the tree ott me with a chain. 1 couldn’t breathe.” "Our son Dennis ran home to me,” adds Eva, "and cried tor me to call an ambulance.” The accident put Carl in the hospital tor several weeks, and prevented him trom tarmmg tor three months until everything mended. That tall, tellow church members and neighbors pitched in to keep the tieldwork going and made sure the cows were milked morning and evening while Eva stayed with Carl, helping out in the barn when she could With a heart lull ot gratitude, Eva recounts the day when bO tarm neighbors traveled trom miles around to harvest 100 acres ot corn silage They came at 7:30 in the morning and worked until 0 that night. While they were tilling the trench, Carl insisted on watching stanchions what they term their “make-shift parlor" in one-third of the barn. Replacement heifers are raised in the remaining part. sitting on the bed ot a pickup truck they drove along side the trench... Farming is his lite,” Eva says attectionately. Just when it seemed things had to get better, the Brosses telt the sting trom their milk marketing cooperative’s financial plight. There was no milk check tor them in 1974 and the pressures tor meeting the farm’s obligations to creditors added to their hardship. "What’s happened to us during the past 20 years could scare us away from farming, but we’ve found somewhere, someway, things will work out. We survived the drought, Carl’s accident, and the milk cooperative’s bankruptcy. We lost thousands of dollars, but we’re still farming,” Eva proclaims. A recent bout with mastitis dropped the Bross’ average milk production by about 2,000 pounds. This setback was overcome by updating their teed supply and milking system. t’l?. • • V? , r * i •• The cows are now ted a 20 per- (Turn to Page A 23) ' ***• I 1
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