This is a difficult update to write today. Yesterday we learned that our friend, Chuck Briant, passed away unexpectedly on Monday. We are heartbroken by his passing. Chuck was a huge supporter and advocate for Opal’s Farm and I’m proud to call him my friend. Our prayers are with his family during this difficult time.
Chuck and I met early last summer. Our mutual friend, Harrison had brought him out to the farm. Chuck fell in love with Opal’s Farm right away. He made it a point to stop by the farm frequently, even during the extreme heat of the Texas summer and the blustery chill of winter. He helped harvest, prepare beds for Spring, and keep everyone in line. The only time we didn’t see him was when he went out of town to visit his kids and grandkids.
During the lean times of our first year it was Chuck that helped us through. More than once it was his words that kept me from giving up when it seemed impossible to make our dream of an urban farm a reality. He had an uncanny ability to say just the right thing at just the right time. I can’t tell you how much his encouragement and wisdom helped me grow as not only the Farm Manager, but as a person.
He had an incredible servant’s heart – particularly when it came to making sure everyone had food, healthy food, on the table. His passion was contagious. Most importantly, he served with a humble spirit, often asking to remain anonymous in matters of service. He gave freely – something we should all aspire to.
I think we were all in shock yesterday when we heard the news. Today was a mix of tears and “Chuck stories”. It’s fitting that I was watering in new seed when I got the call yesterday. Chuck was always intent on watering everything in good – sometimes to a fault. He’d always ask if I needed to get some water down. “Those plants look like they need some water”. I could never convince him that they were going to be okay (especially since I’d watered earlier in the day. As I worked the tomato beds today, I could see him standing there with hose in hand.
We’re convinced that Chuck knew everyone. His network of friends was unbelievable, which isn’t surprising given who Chuck was. We used to joke that when we all get to heaven Chuck will be deep in conversation with Jesus and somebody will walk by and ask who that is over there talking to Chuck…
Chuck touched each one of us who knew him in a unique way and helped us all be better people. He is missed more than words can say. We wish everyone could “be like Chuck”. We’d all be better for it.
Down at the Farm – Our social media pages have been somewhat neglected over the last three weeks. Many of you know my son passed on May 29th. Thank you to the many friends of Opal’s Farm and our great volunteers for keeping the farm going during my absences and your words of condolences. The wonderful (and sometimes not so wonderful) thing about the farm is that it grows and goes despite life showing up in ways I’d prefer it not to. I’ve been so busy playing catch up that I’ve failed to update everyone. Believe me, there’s a lot happening!
First, we rode in the Juneteenth celebration and caravan on Friday. It was incredible to see the love and support for Juneteenth and for making it a Federal holiday. It was even more incredible to see the diversity of the crowd in both the caravan and along Lancaster Avenue as we followed Ms. Opal to Will Rogers Auditorium. The time for unity is now. Ms. Opal is right. Juneteenth is a unifier!
I would love to thank each of our volunteers who participated in the caravan as well. Thanks Mike and Alexis for riding your bikes alongside Ms. Opal and those walking with her. Thanks to Stacey, Ethan, and Averie for making a lot of noise and helping hold the Opal’s Farm banner for all to see. A huge thank you to Blue Zones Project Fort Worth for making the banner possible! It now proudly hangs in our booth at each of our markets!
To make Juneteenth even better, Ms. Opal’s petition to make Juneteenth a Federal holiday has passed ONE MILLION signatures. We all well on our way to 1.5 million! Ms. Opal started out with the goal of 100,000 signees. I think we’ve passed it. It’s not to late to sign the petition. Please go to www.opalswalk2DC.com today!
Finally, it was announced that Senator John Cornyn of Texas will introduce a Senate Bill declaring Juneteenth a Federal holiday. NPR also reported the Representative Sheila Jackson Lee has a House Bill with over 200 co-sponsors for Juneteenth. Things are happening folks so let’s celebrate and keep pressing forward.
The farm has been coming right along this Spring. Last Saturday was Tomato-palooza at Cowtown Farmers Market (www.cowtownmarket.com) and we had some serious tomato action happening. We have produced over three hundred pounds of tomatoes so far! We didn’t have only tomatoes, of course. We had cucumbers, green beans, peppers of all kinds, squash (several varieties), onions, potatoes, carrots, and best of all, purple hull peas (and they are really coming in…).
Thanks to all our volunteers. We’ve had several new folks who signed up this last week to come work at the farm. Unfortunately (at least for them), the weather hasn’t been conducive to volunteering. We love the rain, though. Hang in there and come out when the sun comes out!
You all can find us at www.unityunlimited.org/opalsfarm to sign up or donate today. We make each donation count as we move forward into the Fall planting season! See you soon…
Several of our farm volunteers have asked if we will be working today, Memorial Day. The answer is a definite yes – if the weather cooperates. It didn’t. I woke to sounds of raindrops hitting the air conditioner. The farm doesn’t grant many days off or holidays this time of year. There’s too much to do. Add to the mix COVID-19 and social distancing and typical holiday get-togethers are out of the question. However, I will take a moment, rain or no rain, to stop by the cemetery today to honor my father, grandfather, and two uncles who served in the military during a time of two world wars.
My Grandfather fled an abusive homelife at the age of fourteen, lied about his age, and became a “Doughboy” at the tender age of fifteen. He soon found himself on the front lines of World War One. His experiences there left him skeptical of a government that asked him to risk his life in combat and promptly forget about him when he came home. That’s probably why he was a life-long Democrat and ardent Republican hater.
He became a contractor and later owned a nursery and landscaping business. I found one of his old business cards from the fifties. He had spared no expense on the color, double-sided card. The back of his business card said:
LANDSCAPING—GRASS SODDING—I NEED A JOB
Eisenhower is my shepherd. I am dire in want. He maketh me to lie down on park benches. He leadeth me beside still factories. He restoreth my doubt in the Republican Party. He guideth me in the paths of unemployment for his party’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the alley of soup kitchens, I am still hungry and do feel evil, for he is against me. His Cabinet and his senate discomfort me. Thou didst prepare a reduction in my wages, in the presence of my creditors. Thou anointest my income with taxes; my expense runneth over. Surely hard times and poverty shall follow me all the days of the Republican Administration, and I will dwell in a rented house forever.
Loan Me a Dime – eh. “Me” no wineo, Thanks.
I have a feeling that he contributed to my leftist leanings…
I remember sitting in his old work truck as a kid, listening to his stories, and watching him chew his White Owl cigar to a nub (and wondering why he never spit…). He’d survived a gas attack during the war and couldn’t smoke. It was lip cancer, not lung cancer, that took him in 1972. Dad told me many years later that we sat in his old work truck because he didn’t want to be in the house with that crazy old woman (my mother’s mother), but that’s another story…
My Dad was the youngest of three boys. He didn’t get drafted until the war was over and served in the Army Air Corp stateside. However, his brothers were not as fortunate. Uncle Don served in the Army Air Corp as well – a Bomber Ordinance Unit in the South Pacific – while Uncle Bynam, the middle brother was in the Army in Europe. Uncle Don came home. Uncle Bynam did not. He and his entire squad were killed at Anzio, Italy in 1944. The invasion at Anzio, called Operation Shingle, was one of the most ill-conceived operations of the war. Risk-taking is always easy for officers in the rear…
I did not serve. By the time I was of draft age, Selective Service registration was suspended. Everyone wanted to forget the Vietnam debacle that had cost over 58,000 American lives. They also wanted to forget the veterans who came home with wounds that couldn’t be seen. I know. As a college intern in a congressional Veteran Service office I heard stories from forgotten, broken young servicemen and tried to help them navigate a Veterans Affairs system that could care less. Don’t get me started…
My father and uncles are part of what has come to be known as the “Greatest Generation”, and rightly so. They lived through the Great Depression and the horror of World War Two. They saw the burst of economic growth that followed the war. They handed my generation a better life (at least for some of us) than they had lived. Their war seemed to make some sense. It’s no wonder we romanticize them as the “greatest”.
The rain looks like it’s going to stick around for a while. I’ll grab my jacket and head over to the family cemetery plot. My Grandmother Joel purchased the plot on her meager seamstress’ salary when Uncle Bynam’s remains were returned from Italy in 1947. It took over fifty years, but Grandmother and her boys are all together again. It was just my Grandmother and her three boys from the time my Dad was ten. They were extremely close knit family.
I’ll stand quietly for a moment looking at each of the gravestones. Uncle Bynam and Uncle Don both have military markers. My mother opted to have matching markers for her and my dad. She joined him a couple of years ago.
One of the things that always gets me is the dates on Uncle Bynam’s gravestone. He was born at the end of “the war to end all wars” and died in the next one. How many more lives are gone in the hundreds of conflicts since then? I pray for the day when young men no longer die for old men’s folly and self-interests; when no one serves in the military because it’s no longer needed. “Thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven”.
I probably won’t stay to chat like I usually do – the rain is falling harder – but I will take a moment to remember their service and sacrifice. I hope that each of you do the same. It sounds oxymoronic to say “Happy” Memorial Day, but it’s pure joy to honor the ones we ones we do today.
Good morning my friends. It’s been a hectic week at Opal’s Farm. We’ve planted, harvested, and been to Cowtown Farmers Market. A special thanks goes out to all our loyal customers who braved Saturday’s rain to shop at Cowtown. Every dollar you spend with Opal’s Farm turns into another person with access to fresh, healthy produce.
NBC5 News was out Saturday to do a story on the new SNAP Program, Double Bucks, the Blue Zones Project rolled out here in Fort Worth. Now SNAP shoppers can double their SNAP benefits on every purchase of fresh, nutritious produce. Thank you, Blue Zones Project Fort Worth, for all you do for our community.
While everyone else might’ve seen a gloomy, rainy day Saturday, I saw liquid gold and a weekend off! I even slept in this morning and didn’t get up until 6:45. I spent most of yesterday afternoon with Margaret and honestly, didn’t do much of anything. Sabbath rest is such a blessing. Maybe I’ll reach the point I don’t have to be forced to rest by the weather…
I sat on the porch this morning drinking coffee and basking in the sunlight that filled our quiet little cul-de-sac here. Our neighborhood woodpecker was hard at work on the Arizona Ash above me. The Blue Jays were unafraid of my presence and brazenly fed on the cat food nearby. I don’t mind. Our cat Wallace will be telling me the bowl is empty soon enough.
Sunday mornings are always peaceful on the porch, but even more so since this whole coronavirus mess started. Churches are still closed despite the governor’s gradual reopening guidelines, opting for continued online services. Margaret and I will still limit outside contact – grocery stores, restaurants retail outlets, and such. We are in the high-risk category due to our age and compromised immune systems. I still go to work at the farm, but social distancing is easy on an acre-and-a-half. Market is outside and people are respectful of distancing for the most part. Masks and hand sanitizer are norms for the vendors.
The coronavirus has changed life here in Fort Worth (and everywhere) in so many ways I can’t even begin to list them. COVID-19 is no joke. Most folks have sense enough to take it seriously, but isolation and economic pain is growing more frustrating and some have begun to let their guard down. Some, like the Dallas salon owner who put on such a show for reopening despite stay-at-home orders (another story for another time), have openly rebelled for their “right” to carry on like normal because it infringes on their freedom. Unfortunately, they present a clear and present danger to the rest of us who think personal and community safety is best. I shan’t linger on the subject, so it doesn’t turn into a rant. Most of you will appreciate that.
Life may be all turned upside down these days but there has been, and may be, some good things that come out of the pandemic. For one, isolation has raised social consciousness somewhat. Hopefully, we’ve come to value social contact more than before; that we’re somewhat more aware of the value of our relationships. I know it has for me. Contact with friends and family over Facetime and Zoom just isn’t the same and quite frankly, virtual hugs suck!
I’ve seen our volunteers at Opal’s Farm and the families sharing time together on the bordering Trinity Trails valuing their time together more than ever. I’ve seen more people on Trinity Trails in the past two months than I’ve seen in the last two years. It used to be it was solitary runners, dog walkers, or bikers. Now it’s family groups and friends out there regularly (maintaining social distance where appropriate).
The number of shoppers at Cowtown Farmers Market has gone up as well. Some of our vendors are still between growing seasons so they haven’t started Saturday markets. Although the market’s not full of vendors, it’s growing in customers. I have a glimmer of hope that folks will realize that buying local benefits all of us in the community. Not only are people able to purchase fresh food – not something that spent days or weeks in a railcar or a ship’s hold – their dollar stays here making a difference for all of us. Not only is local produce more nutritious – fresh food tastes better…
There’s a multitude of good things that can come out of this crisis and I’m not going into them all. However, I hope the biggest takeaway is our perception and treatment of “essential” workers. Maybe our definition of ‘hero’ will include not only our brave healthcare workers and first responders, but delivery drivers, grocery workers, packing plant workers, and service workers as well – people traditionally overlooked by most of us and people who, more often than not, are overlooked by our economy. I pray that maybe, just maybe, we’ll begin to see how valuable these folks are to each of us and treat them with greater respect and value.
One Final Word
Stay safe, use common sense, and be respectful of others. If you get bored, we’d love to have you come out and join us for a day at Opal’s Farm. We love you all and appreciate your support!
Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated on this day in 1968. Over fifty years later we still face the same issues he spoke and acted so passionately about. The time for a radical revolution of our morals and values has never been more needed.
#MLK taught us 50 yrs ago, what #COVID19 teaches us today: living wages, guaranteed health care for all, unemployment & labor rights are issues of right vs. wrong & life vs. death. #PoorPeoplesCampaign