It’s been a month since I’ve been able to sit down and write. I’ve tried several times mind you, but June is not conducive to writing time. Juneteenth activities and events begin at the end of May and conclude with the Volunteer Appreciation Picnic on July 4th. I hope everyone had a wonderful Juneteenth and 4th of July. Ms. Opal always reminds us that freedom needs to be for everyone – the oppressed and the oppressor – and celebrations should go on from Juneteenth until July 4th.
I rarely get a moment to simply stop and take in the annual 4th of July Volunteer Appreciation Cookout. It’s in it’s fifth year and I’ve never witnessed the fireworks show. I’m usually trying to get cleaned up so I can go home soon after the show is over. It’s a holiday for most folks, but a really long workday for me. Still, I love to take a moment to look at the crowd of folks that come each year. I find joy in that moment as I see the diversity and joy of life in it all.
I look across the crowd and smile. It’s an example for what our neighborhoods and communities could be the other 364 days a year. There are no racial or ethnic barriers, no religious or cultural barriers. Class doesn’t keep people separate from one another. It’s simply a great evening to be shared by everyone. Food and fireworks are great unifiers. Although I’m usually worn out from a long day of preparation and grilling, I really don’t want it to end. Reality hits as the parking lot empties and it will probably be another 365 days until our little community can enjoy another day together.
I need to have the image of unity even if it is only one day of the year. I need the hope that one day we as a people can move beyond the deep divisions that perpetuate the “Us” and “Them” mentality. I need to be reminded that it’s possible for us to experience real community without regard to race, sexual preference, disability, class, or political affiliations. Otherwise, I succumb to a serious case of the “F*** it’s”. I stand on the line between apathy and empathy a lot these days.
Watching the picnic remined me of the prophet Isaiah’s vision of a world where human relationships are rooted in God’s presence:
I will rejoice in Jerusalem
And delight in my people;
No more will the sound of weeping be heard in it,
Or the cry of distress.
No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days,
Or an old person who does not live out a lifetime:…
Before they call I will answer,
While they are yet speaking I will hear.
The wolf and the lamb shall feed together,
The lion shall eat straw like an ox:
But the serpent – its food will be dust!
They shall not hurt or destroy
On all my holy mountain, says the Lord.
Isaiah 65.19-20, 24-25
I live with the hope that day is coming. For now, I’ll enjoy our day of food and fun…
It’s raining once again so that means it must be Sunday. I am so grateful for the rain – the plants at the farm love it – but it can be a mixed blessing. I have the rest of the Spring planting to do before it gets too hot! Then again, I got to take a nap this afternoon…
This has been another great week at Opal’s Farm. We’d love to thank the Bank of America volunteers that came out Wednesday. I was in Fayetteville, Arkansas for the Growing Hope conference and was amazed when I came home to see the work that had been done. Thanks to Stacey and Joey for all their hard work and making the volunteer event a great day.
As I mentioned, I was at the Growing Hope conference hosted by the National Center for Appropriate Technology (NCAT) in Fayetteville this week. It was an excellent conference reminding (and teaching) us of the importance of what we do as farmers and folks trying to change our local food systems.
I toured two different non-profit farms, Cobblestone Farms and Apple Seeds, and learned of our common mission to fight food insecurity and educate others – especially our kids – about healthy growing and real nutrition.
I also spoke with an amazing group of farmers and activists about the fight for food justice – not just food access and food security – but the justice that gives everyone a seat at the table (both literally and figuratively) to create safe, equitable local food systems. I’d love to give a shout out to all the folks at NCAT who put the conference together. It was one of the best conferences I’ve had the privilege of attending – full of new ideas and re-energizing me for the fight for food justice and equity.
It was sometime during the early years of the Reagan Administration. I can’t remember the date exactly, but I’ve never forgotten the events that night. It was clear and despite the city lights, the stars twinkled brightly on the late winter’s night. I had taken a moment to sit on our big front porch to take in the beauty of the evening before going to bed. I smoked my last cigarette of the day and shut off the lights as I walked through the living room, the kitchen, and down the back stairs to the warmth of our small bedroom in the basement.
Our house was an old farmhouse built in 1890 and sat on two large city lots. It was built long before the area known as Washington Park grew up around it and had much different architecture than the Craftsmen and Victorian homes that came in the early 1900s. It was small – only 950 square feet – and finished in stucco with a flat roof. It even had the old concrete path to where the outhouse would’ve been in its early years. The basement had been finished with two small bedrooms my first wife and I shared next to our boy’s bedroom. It always felt so cozy on a long winter’s night, and I rarely had insomnia issues after sliding into the inviting warmth of the covers and my wife’s arms. It wasn’t much but it was our piece of paradise in the middle of Denver’s urban sprawl.
I’m not sure of the exact time it happened but it was in the early morning hours when sleep is so deep that even one’s dreams are on hold. It was the kind of sleep that we all long for: peaceful and restful. It was also the deep sleep that made it virtually impossible to awaken with a clear mind – the mind remained in that state long after the body was jolted awake. That’s when it happened.
The long, loud scream of the warning sirens blew in the basement window; waning and ebbing as the siren made its circular motion. My wife and I sat up in bed. “What in the hell?”, I demanded as we looked at one another trying to figure out what was up.
I had grown up with warning sirens in Texas, but there we called them tornado sirens. They were tested monthly so if they ever went off other than 1:00 PM on the first Wednesday of the month it meant you needed to head for a place in your home away from windows and doors and hold on. A tornado was nearby and may hit you soon. North Texas marked the southern end of tornado alley. Growing up in Fort Worth meant having a solemn respect for tornado warnings.
The warning sirens were also called Civil Defense sirens. You see, I grew up during the Cold War between the Soviet Union Eastern Bloc and the West. Both sides had a first-strike capability with the ever-growing stockpile of nuclear weapons. The sirens warned us of an imminent attach by the godless communists. We were supposed to file into the basements of buildings marked as Civil Defense shelters if we were downtown working or shopping (this was BM – Before Malls). If we were elsewhere, such as school, we were supposed to “duck and cover” as if our trusty school desks were to help us survive a nuclear blast. I still remember Tommy Turtle and the black-and-white instructional films (this was BV – before video) that told us how to duck low to the ground, cover our heads, and look away from the blast in case of nuclear attack. It mattered little that we were to be vaporized or brutally burned when the bomb went off. The ostrich approach was probably the best way to go…
Unfortunately, this wasn’t North Texas but Denver, Colorado. In the all the years of junior and senior high school and college I had never heard a warning siren. Nor had I ever seen a tornado in Denver, especially in the winter. They just didn’t happen then (climate change changed that scenario years later). Even if they did, the city wouldn’t be testing the sirens at three o’clock in the morning, so something was going on. I reached over to our bedside alarm clock radio and tuned in to see if there was any news about what was happening. There wasn’t. Was this it? Was this the bomb?
The Cold War had a renewed tension after Reagan was elected President. Saber rattling had become the norm and tensions between East and West were at the highest point since the Cuban Missile Crisis in October of 1963. The nuclear arms race was in full swing. I had proudly been arrested for civil disobedience at the Rocky Flats Nuclear Weapons facility numerous times (once with Father Berrigan!). Nuclear disarmament and peace were the subjects of many a demonstration, however small those might be. Most folks were content to live in fear if it didn’t interfere with making a living and going about normal daily life. The warning sirens made everything suddenly real.
Maybe this was it. Denver would be a prime target in any attack scenario. It boasted the largest Federal center of anywhere outside of Washington, D.C. and was surrounded by Rocky Mountain Nuclear Arsenal, an Air Force Base, and several other military facilities. The likelihood that this would be our last few moments was real. My mind raced with memories of a recent movie sensation, “The Day After”.
Finally, the sirens stopped. My wife, though jolted awake by the sudden emergency, drifted back off to sleep. My boys never woke up through the whole affair. All things slowly returned to normal though I never quite made it back to sleep that night. It had all been too unsettling. The morning news carried a story about the event. It seems somehow water had gotten in a control room and shorted out the wiring, causing the alarms to go off. We were never in danger, only inconvenienced. The event was soon forgotten, and life went about as usual.
Several years later, the Berlin Wall came down, the Soviet Union fell apart and became the Russian Federation, and the Cold War was declared over. Anti-nuke demonstrations faded and the news media found plenty of other things to instill more fear and create more demonstrations over. There were new countries joining the nuclear weapon family. Although they had agendas contrary to the West there has not been the intensity of coverage, nor the fearfulness found in the Cold War years.
2024 is an election year. Many on both sides of the political spectrum say it’s the most important election in America history. I’ve lived long enough to have voted in several “most important” elections. This year really is different though, and for a myriad of reasons. I’ve heard all the arguments but the one that’s been missing is the threat of nuclear catastrophe that is now at its highest point since the 1980s. There may no longer be a Soviet Union but the Cold War between East and West has restarted and could become a “hot” war through miscalculation, misunderstanding, and miscommunication.
Authoritarian rulers like Putin have referred to the nuclear option several times over the last two years in his quest to restore Russian Empire. North Korea improves and expands its nuclear program while other international actors seek to be come nuclear powers. More and more uncertainties enter the equation.
I don’t like fear tactics and that’s not what I hope comes from this story. I hope that this is a subject to be taken seriously when considering election choices in the coming year. Whoever is elected will have the final say over whether we live together or die together. It’s important to consider deeply and prayerfully who we give that power to.
Evaluate real character and integrity. Choose those who demonstrate empathy and compassion for the common good rather than those whose decisions are made for themselves. Who holds up and lives out the values we strive for? Making America great again should be making America what it professes to believe in, and not some idea of selfish, power seekers only seek to make others do their will. Choose wisely. You lives may depend on it…
***I also recommend:
Turning Point: The Bomb and the Cold War available on Netflix
The scene beyond my window is rather drab. A blast of cold Arctic air exploded across North Texas yesterday afternoon. It brought with it the cutting icy North wind that plagues the Southern plains every winter. The “feels like” temperatures this morning were in the single digits and they’re predicting eighty-plus hours below freezing and sleet for this evening. Folks in these parts are understandably nervous. Ice brings out the worst in Texas drivers and the memory of Winter Storm Uri in 2021 is still fresh to anyone who lived here then. The power grid crashed, Texans went for days without power and water, and 246 people died from storm-related issues.
Last year saw a major ice storm at the end of January. We were at the Texas Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association Conference in Dallas and left early because of the roads. One of our employees ended up staying at the motel that night. One night turned into a week. Texans do not do well in cold weather. It doesn’t storm often but when it does look out!
Fortunately, we’ve had ample time to prepare for this Arctic visitor. Store shelves are empty of non-perishables and bottled water. Gas tanks are full and homes lucky enough to have a generator are standing by. People take the weather forecast a bit more seriously since the winter of ’21.
( Opal’s Farm and the frozen Trinity River February 2021 )
Personally, I haven’t had much time to prepare our house. I still must make a run to Home Depot. My neighbor said they had some outdoor faucet covers hidden in the back of the store. Information like that is like finding gold. We try to take care of each other in our neighborhood. I have, however, taken steps to prepare Opal’s Farm the best we can to save our winter crops. Frost cloth has been double-spread on the bio-intensive section and several of the hundred-foot rows. Prayers have been said, fingers have been crossed, and if I had a rabbit’s foot, I’m sure I’d be holding it close. We’ll keep you posted…
On a lighter, and somewhat warmer note (it was cool but warmer yesterday), we moved Opal’s Farm Stand hours to Saturday afternoons from 1:30 PM to 4:00 PM. We found his to be more convenient for our neighbors and the traffic on Sylvania isn’t rushing between jobs. We had several customers yesterday afternoon. This complements our mornings at Cowtown Farmers Market and our delivery for Hao’s Grocery and Café. We can harvest once a week to bring quality fresh produce to our community.
Anyway…
My fur-babies don’t seem to be bothered by the single-digit temperatures. They are out running around and playing as I sit here. Sitting here watching them got me to thinking about this blog. I’ve always called it “Thoughts From the Porch” because that was the place my thoughts and coffee ran freely since this journey began. I no longer spend my mornings on the front porch. It’s not because it’s cold. When you smoke it really doesn’t matter if it’s the summer Texas heat or the winter freeze, you’re driven to suffer outside.
However, that changed on November 1st of last year. That’s the day I quit smoking. I’ve been cigarette-less since then. The cravings have become less severe most of the time. The operative word being “most”. Other days – not so much. Staying off the porch has been a good move so here I sit. I still get a good view of the world through the patio door next to my office. It’s a constant reminder of God’s goodness and grace in our lives.
Maybe it’s time to find another name for this? Let me know your thoughts!
Please stay warm and safe through this cold snap. Stay inside, make it a family day or a day of introspection. Enjoy the time and pray the lights don’t go out…
A couple of weeks ago, my Monday morning meeting ended early, so I sat at the Philadelphia Airport waiting for four hours for my plane home. I’m not good at sitting but I have little choice over the next seven hours or so. It was nice to catch up on a few things, but I prefer the open fields and growing plants to rows of chairs and sitting in an airborne cigar…
I was here to attend the Black Urban Growers National Conference, or BUGs as they call it. Philly has a strong urban agriculture movement with many farms and community gardens dotting the city. They even have a Director of Urban Agriculture as part of the Parks and Recreation Department for the city government. It was great to make some connections with folks here. Hopefully, we can begin to move city government in Tarrant County, Fort Worth, and the surrounding cities to move in a positive direction for urban ag and community gardens. Jesse Herrera, Linda Fulmer, and Grow SE have moved us a long way but there’s so much to do to make Fort Worth favorable to urban agriculture and eliminating food insecurity.
Six cities currently have Urban Agriculture leaders in city government – Philadelphia, Atlanta (whose director also spoke at BUGs and was the first city in the nation to appoint a director), New York City, Detroit, Austin, Boston, Seattle, and Portland. These are also areas where there are strong food policy councils. However, each agreed that community member advocacy was essential to the formation of urban ag programs. These positions work through the mayor’s office, sustainability offices, parks, or planning departments. While Tarrant County has a food policy council, they need support from our community to have influence over policy decisions at the county or municipal level. We need is citizen support to drive progress forward for urban agriculture.
Why Urban Agriculture?
There are three primary reasons for establishing urban agriculture policies in Tarrant County municipalities – the number of food deserts, public health, and supply chain issues.
In 2020, NBC5 news reported that Tarrant County was one of the Top Ten counties in the country for food insecurity ( https://www.nbcdfw.com/news/local/fighting-hunger-urban-farming-in-fort-worths-food-desert/2292808/ ). Moreover, the USDA identified over forty areas in Tarrant County that qualify as “food deserts” – areas that are over a mile away from a grocery store. Food “desert’ is something of a misnomer. Food apartheid represented the concept far better as most of these areas are in lower income areas or communities of color. Urban agriculture and farmstands or farmers markets can make a significant impact on accessibility to fresh food in these neighborhoods. It can be costly under present urban farm and garden ordinances to build infrastructure needed for urban ag.
Public health is drastically affected by lack of access to healthy food. The zip code 76102 is the unhealthiest zip code in the state of Texas. Life expectancy is 66.7 years old – twelve years below the national average ( https://www.star-telegram.com/news/local/fort-worth/article244137362.html ). While lack of access to healthy food is not the only reason for poor health outcomes, it is certainly the root of the problem. In the Southside, Morningside, and Hillside communities there are only a dozen convenience stores that only sell snacks and highly processed canned foods lacking nutritional value. Locally grown, nutrient-dense fresh vegetables help the body’s own defenses against heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, cancers, and obesity that lead to shorter lifespans and higher medical costs. Costs borne by all of us.
The COVID pandemic revealed serious flaws in our present food systems. Who doesn’t remember the higher food prices and empty store shelves of many items we use every day. Breaks in the supply chain have serious consequences for the retail grocery stores. Our food travels an average of 1500 miles from the farm to your table. To reach your grocer, it has to be picked before it’s ripe, sprayed with preservatives, shipped by rail or by truck to a distribution center and delivered to each individual store. It lacks the flavor and nutrient density so many of us crave. Locally grown produce is a solution to this problem.
Moreover, local urban farmers develop a sense of community around the local farmer’s market or farmstand. The community gets to know their local farmers and their neighbors better. “Screen time”
Is often replaced by real conversations. A sense of neighborhood pride replaces some of the isolation that often plagues our senior citizens. Opal’s Farm has been a member of the Cowtown Farmers Market for five years now. We’ve developed a loyal customer base and we’ve come to know our customers as friends. We’ve been an active part of our community, and many folks have volunteered at the farm as well as become our customers.
What Can I Do?
Access to land is often easier than we think. Learn about urban agriculture in your neighborhood. Are there any community gardens? If not, is there a place for one? Are there vacant lots, churches, or schools that might be good sites for a small urban farm or community garden. Are there local learning gardens to offer growing tips and support to neighborhoods? Do your local schools have school gardens that you might volunteer with? Is there a place to gather to bring local farmers and gardeners together to offer their goods and services to the neighborhood?
Find out what the urban agriculture and community garden ordinances (or if you even have them) are in your municipality. Is zoning an issue? Neighborhood associations are often a great place to start if you have one. If not, local code compliance or development departments can provide guidelines.
Here in Fort Worth, urban agriculture ordinances were almost non-existent and what we did have was more of a barrier than a help. A local initiative by County Commissioner Brooks Office called Grow SE brought local non-profits and urban farmers together to address this issue. Grow SE worked diligently to address and change the city ordinances that limit urban ag and have made it much easier to build the infrastructure to make it successful but – we have a long way to go!
Get involved with your local food policy council. Food Policy Councils were first authorized in the 2014 Farm Bill and re-emphasized in the 2018 Farm Bill. If your city does not have one, then start one. Here in Tarrant County, we are fortunate to have a council with working groups in urban ag and food waste (a significant issue as Fort Worth faces having to build the infrastructure for a new landfill). Food policy councils can have a major effect on local food policy and urban agriculture.
Contact your local city council member and make your voice heard. Attend city council meetings and ask your neighbors to do so as well. Talk to your local officials and let them know this is a big issue to deal with. Changing the food system and delivery to your table begins at the local level!
I’m excited to be home and to continue our Fall growing and prepping for next Spring. I’d love to have you come out and start your urban agriculture journey with Opal’s Farm. Come see the possibilities for positive change here in Fort Worth and Tarrant County. Bring your kids. Kids (and unfortunately many adults) have no idea where their food comes from. Once they learn how good food is grown and distributed to our communities, they get excited to be a part of the process. The fresh air, vitamin D, and “playing in the dirt” is great for them (and for you!) Come and see!
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