Day Six

"Today is a 'rest and organize' day. I'm at the Prairie Motel in Anton, CO. I got up early and walked to the only store in Anton, where I grabbed a Bob Evans breakfast sandwich, took out the sausage, microwaved it, grabbed a cup coffee, and stepped outside to eat at the only picnic table in Anton. Rick Johnson was already there, and said he didn’t mind if I joined him. Lucky for me.

"Rick is sixty years old and a third generation farmer. His grandfather homesteaded here and lived in a Dugout carved into the side of a hill on the property. Rick has looked, without success, for his Grandad’s original home. He has a “tiny” farm, only a thousand acres and he works it by himself-- NO employees.

"The Johnson Farm is one of the few family farms left in this part of CO. When Rick was a kid, there were three gas stations, three restaurants and plenty of activity taking place in and around Anton. Over time that all changed. Now, 'Furniture Row' (I thought they only made furniture and raced cars.) owns and farms between one and two hundred thousand acres. 'No one knows for sure what they own.' around Anton, Rick says. I asked Rick what he was going to do. He shared the fact that he is sixty and farming is all he knows how to do, so... he left it there. We talked about farming in the future; Rick is concerned."

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"Rick is sixty years old and a third generation farmer. His grandfather homesteaded here and lived in a Dugout carved into the side of a hill on the property." 

Bob McCormick