A newcomer to an old industry

By Mike Moore
Journal Times

Monday, December 1, 2008 12:50 PM CST

VIDEO: Down on the chicken farm

TOWN OF RAYMOND — The only way Barry Jones could afford his mid-life entry into farming was to go Dumpster diving.

Make that barn diving.

First stop: The poultry farm in Caledonia where he worked about 40 years earlier. The owners had long since shifted their focus — it’s now Swan Pumpkin Farm — but signs of the old days were preserved under piles of hay.

“A lot of the equipment I used as a little boy was still there,” the 54-year-old Jones said.

That included a roll-out nest, a metal piece that houses hens while they lay eggs. Raccoons that had been squatting there had to find another home. Jones took the nest home and rededicated it to its original purpose.

“You can’t even buy these anymore,” he said recently while giving a tour of the eight-acre Jones Family Farm he started a couple of years ago at his home in Raymond.

There at his farm hens of several types lay blue, brown and white eggs. When they’re not laying, they wander around the yard pecking for food. That leaves them vulnerable to attacks from hawks, but Jones isn’t a believer in tight enclosures.

He also raises chickens for meat. The structures where they’re kept could’ve cost thousands of dollars, he said. Instead, for about $150 he tracked down some corn cribs normally used to dry and store corn and covered them with tarps.

His favorite reclamation project is still in pieces. A nearby farmer agreed to let him keep the lumber from a dilapidated barn if Jones took it apart and hauled away the junk. He plans to turn that wood into a portable barn that can be moved wherever the good feeding ground is.

“If you don’t have cash but you have a crowbar, you go with the crowbar,” Jones said. “His falling-down barn was trash, but to me it was treasure.”

Obstacles to entry

Being frugal might be the only way to squeeze through a door that’s only open a crack to new farmers. Even where government subsidies are available, prices for agricultural commodities aren’t too alluring, trade associations say.

“It’s real hard at that rate to bring new people into the industry,” said Joel Greeno, vice president of Family Farm Defenders, a nonprofit advocacy group based in Madison.

The flurry of farmers selling to developers has slowed in recent years, with only 9,316 acres of Wisconsin farmland being sold for non-farming uses in 2007. That compares to 30,190 acres just three years earlier.

Still, by jumping in rather than out, Jones is clearly going against the grain. He wonders if his will be the last new commercial family farm in the county. The business isn’t for the 9-to-5 set.

“First, the person has got to want to work really, really hard for almost no pay, and there aren’t too many that want to do that anymore,” Greeno said.

Long hours aren’t a downer for Jones. Running a farm was a dream that sat in the back of his mind for years. Even as he worked as a truck driver and home inspector, his subscription to agricultural magazines never lapsed.

Financially, Jones said the farm has grown to the point it’s a better bet than a home inspecting business tied to the slumping housing market. His wife, Teri, has taken the new venture in stride. A graphic designer by day, she does the bookkeeping for the farm and helps out with chores when needed.

“He always would tell me he’s either going to be a poor dirt farmer or a millionaire,” she joked about her husband. “Guess which route he took.”

This wasn’t exactly planned. The only farm animals they initially targeted were some goats for Teri to keep as pets. And maybe a miniature donkey.

“They’re excellent watchdogs,” she said. “If you have a donkey, you’ll never have a coyote.”

A friend passed along a few excess chickens to the couple, and their plan accidentally evolved into something bigger than a backyard petting zoo.

Last year, the Joneses started selling at a Milwaukee-area farmers market and developed a Saturday morning door-to-door egg route in the off-season. Just like old days, people often tape payments to the door.

“We’ll go for eight months without seeing any of these people,” Barry Jones said.

They don’t sell directly from their property, and Racine County isn’t part of the route. Their delivery territory only covers the Milwaukee area.

Teri Jones, 50, said she’s not worried about the business gamble. If it falters, she said her job can support the couple and their teenage son. On the plus side, success on the farm could allow her to freelance from home.

Farming demands other sacrifices besides labor and cash. The Jones kitchen is permanently messy, Barry Jones said. At times, they have kept newborn chicks in the basement during winter months until they were strong enough to survive the cold.

Sometimes that means forgoing heat, Barry Jones said. The furnace spreads the aroma, which isn’t nearly as appetizing as that of cooked chicken.

“They smell awful when they’re in a confined space,” he said, especially the meat chickens.

The Joneses’ hope is the sweet smell of success can neutralize those odors.

BREAKOUT

Five things Barry Jones has learned from the first 2 1/2 years of running a poultry farm:

1. How much he could accomplish with minimal money. Jones said he’d rank that below creativity and determination on the list of necessities.

2. People are more concerned now about the origins of their food. Customers at farmers markets ask lots of questions.

3. Almost all of the remaining farms with livestock are large ones.

4. Customers still appreciate personal service. Jones has a door-to-door egg route in the Milwaukee area.

5. The lifestyle requires sacrifice. During colder months, he and his wife sometimes keep newly hatched chicks in the basement until they can survive outdoors.

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