I Bought the Farm

What began with a dinner conversation and a dream of creating something special for inner-city kids became fourteen years of farm animals and gardens, pig roasts, and a revolving cast of friends, companions and Jesuit Volunteers. This is the story of Jack Balinsky's farm in Tully, New York, from 1974 to 1988.

Introduction

The drunk on the doorstep was a sign from God. So I thought that July night in 1974 when I returned to my apartment on Seymour Street in inner city Syracuse from a dinner at the Glenlock.

Over dinner, Fred and Judy Fusco, Lisa Snulyian had been discussing whether I should buy the farm. The context was this. By then, we were into our third year of running camps in Tully for the inner-city kids from Brighton Family Center and Vincent House. We had always said how wonderful it would be if we could make an arrangement with a farmer for our kids to go ride horses, see animals, and the like. About a month earlier, I had gone to a party at a farmhouse in
Tully owned by Fr. Peter Simeone from LeMoyne. It was for sale.

The seed was planted and the discussion had evolved over several weeks until that point. The instant I saw that man on my doorstep, the decision was made.

Not that it was easy. Because I had basically been in the modality of giving away whatever I had to someone in need, I had few cash resources. Discussions with my parents, my Uncle Ted and my Aunt Eleanor about a loan were interesting because, as they said, I was the least likely of our four siblings to own and manage a farm. In the end, Ted and Eleanor agreed to loan me a modest amount of money, and with free legal assistance from my beloved Bob McAuliffe, the purchase happened extremely quickly.

So, by the first week in September 1974, I was the proud owner of 6.8 acres, a farmhouse complete with love beads (with Peter, it had been the Love Farm), a very large barn with a more modern pole barn attached on the side and a small storage shed.

Thus began a story of fourteen wonderful years. I tell this story about those with whom I lived, about our animals, about gardens and about significant events and moments.

Living Companions

The discussion that night at the Glenlock was that the Fusco's would move in with me for a while if I did indeed buy the farm.

So they moved in with me in early September, right! Wrong! Upon more mature reflection, they decided this situation wasn't for them.

1. Doreen - Steve - Ed

That first late summer and fall, I started alone. Soon, however, came the Delaney's Mike, Doreen, Micky and Jennifer, and their dog Rags. At that time, there was no upstairs kitchen, so it was a little tricky sharing a kitchen, but because even then, I was home so seldom, it worked out just fine.

It became quickly apparent that the Delaney' s were having significant marital problems, and that Doreen's main motive in encouraging this move was that she could hook up with me. Very quickly Mike had three speeding tickets from travels to and from Syracuse on Route 81, and he was gone. When it became apparent that I wasn't interested, very quickly Steve Busch came upon the scene, and so we lived for two years.

Having gone on vacation one Christmas, I came home to find a note that Steve and Doreen had been married in my living room and were moving out.

Enter Ed Neuhauser, who was a friend of Steve's and a powerful and energetic man. His tenure was noted by four major events:

As described below, he dug by hand a second major garden (40' x 200'), which we kept up for many years.
Through his good graces, I got much help in cutting and splitting wood for my wood-burning furnace, which I had put in as a way of dealing with the incredibly high price of heating oil. I did about 50 face cords a winter.
For a brief tenure, he was encamped upstairs with Amy Dahlman, a radio DJ in a hot and furious fling.
He had a wonderful aerial photograph of the farm taken which I treasure to this day.

Alas, Ed moved on to Ithaca to pursue his graduate studies.

Then came the night of February 2, 1978. That day at Catholic Charities was our first all staff convening, and I came home from a subsequent dinner elated at the success of the event, only to find that there had been a break in the water line leading to the furnace, the basement was flooded, the heat had gone off and various pipes in the house had burst in the cold. That was not a happy night. Fortunately, some contractors who did work with Catholic Charities came right then to help restore heat and keep further pipes from bursting.

This event ushered in the next phase of life at the farm. I was able to use the insurance money from the flood to make some needed other repairs and also to install a kitchen on the second floor which expanded the opportunities for other residents.

2. Transition

This next period was the transition period when for short periods of time there were four different sets of tenants.

Barbara and George, who were friends of Ed's, and both of whom were good friends.
For a while, John and/or Patty Stapleton lived upstairs as they were in transition in their life. They were two children of a family I had befriended through Patty when I was the Mayor's Youth Coordinator.
Happily, the tenure of three young men from the area who were into the party thing was brief.
I had a good experience with a nice, young woman who was a declared lesbian, and from whom I learned a great about homosexuality and some of the challenges that living in society at that time posed for her.

Following this event came the final two eras of the farm, both of which I termed the golden years.

3. Steve

I have been blessed for more than twenty years now knowing Steve Holbrook. He is the brother of Judy Holbrook McCrea, who married my good friend Jack McCrea in 1981. He had been living for a number of years in Oregon, and decided to come here to the Syracuse area. He got a job with Jack at Transitional Living Services, and came with his dog Murphy to live upstairs at the farm.

To say that Steve is competent in whatever he does and generous of spirit is an
understatement.

Steve was a good friend, a person who helped fix everything that broke, a consultant and advisor on animals, a helper with wood, etc. - who made life so much easier on the farm.

Happily with Steve, we were also able to resurrect the annual pig roast, which had been started when Steve Bosch and Ed Neuhauser were there. More on that later.

Alas, Steve, having gotten financial footing, felt it was better to own his own home and moved in 1985.

4. John and Patty

I was then joined by John and Patty Stapleton who at that moment in their lives were both looking for a place to be. This time together further cemented our lifelong friendship. The companionship was wonderful. John was also very adept with his hands, and fixing things, and both John and Patty were very generous of spirit and friendship.

In 1984, though, my life had changed. I took a job at the State Catholic Conference in Albany, and moved into an apartment complex there. Thus began a four-year period of lliving in two places, Albany during the week, and Tully on weekends. This arrangement worked because of the generosity of John and Patty, and also that of Lori Reinhardt, who lived next door and took care of the animals. Several frustrating events with the animals, with which she had to cope alone while I was in Albany, signaled that this arrangement was just too hard for the long haul. With considerable encouragement from my father,
sadness on my part for me, disappointment from Patty and John, the closing for the sale of the farm was July 15, 1988.

But, as described below, the fourteen years there had been wonderful, exciting and interesting.

Animals

From the outset, it had been the goal to create a petting zoo and riding opportunity for the kids from camp.

1. Horses - Pony

Building my animal population began very quickly because my father wanted a horse and we got one, named after him - JB - early on.

Happily, Doreen, Steve and Ed knew about animals, were interested and helped out, because I certainly didn't have much of a clue as to what I was doing.

One early experience, which was to foreshadow my later statement, "I never owned an animal I didn't chase", came when my father decided [during a Nomad's (golf group) party that he was hosting at the farm], that he was going to ride his horse. We got him up on the horse, who then bolted directly to the com section in the garden, was happily munching away and would not move. We had to go rescue my father and lead the horse back.

JB was soon followed by another horse, and then a pony who was donated, especially good for kids riding.

It was in this time period, that Paul Welch came to conclusion about his relationship to the farm. Paul was also in transition and was living temporarily at the farm. During this time, one of the horses became ill. The vet came, and the instruction was - if the horse was laying down, we had to pick it up.

One night, Paul came home late after I had gone to bed, read the note, and went out to the barn to look in on the horse.

Happily, the horse was standing, but that instant clarified for Paul that farm life was not for him.

2. Goats

Goats came next. Over the ensuing twelve years, I had many different goats. These memories stand out:

Never to me was made more clear the hierarchy or pecking order of the animal kingdom. Every time we added another goat, there would be a period of turmoil, head butting and the like until the new pecking order was stabilized.
There was nothing more wonderful then the baby kid goats, when they were born and grew up. Tom Bazydlo always talked about how he loved to see the kid goats running and jumping and frolicking.
My favorite goat was Billy (what else), whose mother died as he was born. We fed him from a bottle, and he always thought he was a people, not a goat. When people were around, we would let him out and he would happily follow us around. The (people) kids loved him.
John and Mitzi Wolf are forever indebted because my gift to them of Abednegot started them on their own exciting journey into the animal kingdom.
And, from the vet, I learned another wise, country saying: "you know what they say about sick goats -they don't get better."

3. Chickens

Early on, Doreen thought that chickens were an important part of the farm experience, so Steve built a chicken pen in the main part of the barn and we got chickens. And, lots of eggs. When I think of the chickens, I more generally remember the challenge of animals in the winter. Not only feeding, but also needing to chop the ice in their water buckets. For the first few years, until we ran a water line to the barn, we had to carry water through the snow and ice down to the barn.

The barn became a place of recreation for the kids at camp, including sleepovers. One middle of the night, one of the kids told her counselor that she knew what time it was- 4:00. Why? Because the rooster had crowed four times.

Speaking of the barn, jumping off the loft into the hay pile was also a significant and fun experience - for most. One poor boy stood ready to jump, unable to decide whether to jump, unable to decide whether he would or not, and instead wet his pants.

4. Pigs

Ed felt that we should have pigs, so built an elaborate indoor/outdoor pigpen at the back of the bottom floor of the barn.

Our first pig was epic. I went to a farm in Baldwinsville to pick up our first pig in a Catholic Charities van with a wire dog cage in the back to hold the pig. There was tremendous wailing as the farmer separated the six week old pig from its mother. When I started back to Syracuse and Tully in the van, there was great noise and calamity in the back of the van as the pig struggled with its cage. The next thing I knew something was eating at my foot on the gas pedal - the pig. While I was driving along, I kept swatting the pig away. It finally ended up riding happily in the bucket front passenger seat of the van, looking out as we went along. I had quite a few double takes from passersby as they saw the pig in the passenger seat.

When we got to the farm, we got the pig into its pen. It methodically checked the perimeter of the pen, went back to the center, got a running start, and crashed through the outdoor portion of the pen into the cornfield. Three of us chased the pig for a half hour or so, but to no avail. We learned later that it spent the summer in the cornfield and barn of a farmer about a mile down the road, and was big and fat when it was caught.

Despite this experience, we reinforced the pen and had several other successful
experiences. I learned:

pigs really are smart
they love mud
all kinds of pork - roasts, chops, bacon, sausage, etc. are especially good from your own home grown grain fed, slaughtered and butchered pig. (The
slaughterhouse did the butchering, not us.)

5. Bugsy

In addition to pigs, Ed also wanted to have a beef steer, so we got Bugsy. Thinking of Bugsy leads me to comment on our pastures. Another element of life on the farm was cleaning and maintaining pastures. We had two: a smaller one right adjacent to the pole barn, and then going through a narrow passage over a small stream, to a much larger pasture farther away. We had enough animals, particularly horses, to basically keep the pastures eaten down, so we didn't have to mow, but burdocks and jailbreaks were a regular fact of life. Thank God, Bugsy never got out, because I don't think we could have retrieved them.

I can't leave Bugsy without the Karin Baxter story. Karin was daughter of my friends Brian and Nancy Baxter from Princeton who by then were living in Harrisburg. They would drop in at least once a year. Karin first met Bugsy just after he came when he was young and cute. She fell in love with him. Next year she came and I will never forget the horrified look on her face when she learned that we were eating Bugsy Burgers.

6. Ducks and Geese

Now, switch back in time for an instant. Actually, the first two animals on the farm were ducks: Agnes and Gertrude. So named by John Stapleton who worked and lived on the farm in 1975, the first real summer there. He took care of the ducks, named after his grandmother and her sister.

Agnes and Gertrude (who actually must have been male and female) became progenitors of many generations of ducks over the next fourteen years. I have in my mind a wonderful picture of all these white ducks, sometimes twenty in number, waddling around in formation.

Our one attempt at serving roast duck was a disaster. This was in the time period of Barbara and George. We obviously didn't know what we were doing. At Christmas, my sisters Margaret and Sue were coming for dinner and a special treat. Since the ducks didn't seem to be cooking, we delayed by serving Manhattans, which saved the day because, really, the ducks were only gristle and fat.

Having ducks, of course, we had to try geese - once. The familiar notions that they are messy, territorial, aggressive and loud are all true.

7. Turkeys

Which brings us to turkeys. This element of our life came as a return favor from John Wolf, who by then had gotten into raising turkeys and suggested we do so. I have these memories:

Turkeys are dumb, for sure, and may be lowest on the totem pole in terms of
brainpower of the animal kingdom. It is true that if you leave them out in the
rain, they will drown because they will leave their mouths open to drink the rain.
Actually, we were pretty good at raising turkeys, and did slaughter them
ourselves. Not perfect but certainly adequate.
One visit by my friend Katy Skelly, who I had met when I was teaching at
LeMoyne and she was a student, was a year that we had turkeys with white feathers. When she questioned why they were white, I had her convinced that they were a special hybrid who had only white meat.

8. Sheep

And, finally, I conclude with sheep. They are not especially smart either and their
wonderful woolen coats always seemed to be damp, smelly and filled with burdocks. I still recall, though, a note I had from Lori which said the Easter bunny had brought me a present, a little lamb.

For the last seven years that I was there, the hero of this part of the story was Lori Reinhardt. Lori and her husband Art were the young couple who bought the house next door. Because she had two small children, she did not at first work outside the home. She also had grown up on a
farm.

I hired her to take care of the animals and also to supervise groups who came to visit. Her service in caring for the animals, which by then were quite numerous, was above and beyond the call of duty. Not only regular feeding and grooming, but calling the vet as needed, and also chasing animals a good deal of the time.

One disappointment we had was breeding our horse. Unfortunately, the offspring from moment one was mean spirited. We had hoped to train our own horse for her kids and all who came.

Lori's most significant contribution, though, was as very effective hostess for the many groups of kids who came on field trips. At the beginning, it was just our kids from camp, and then from the neighborhood centers.

As our menagerie grew, and knowing that Lori was a competent supervisor and was very trustworthy with kids on horses, visitation to the farm became more widespread. Kids from day care centers, school districts, neighborhood centers, programs for retarded kids, etc., all came to look forward to a field trip to Jack's farm with Lori. (Ironically, I met up in Albany with a former Jesuit Volunteer who had been to Jack's farm twenty times in her year in Syracuse, but had never met me.)

So, I had accomplished far beyond my wildest dreams, what I had set out to do from those early discussions 14 years before.

As indicated earlier, my absences in Albany, coupled with the fact that Lori had gone back to work part-time, made things unmanageable. Before the end, though, many kids had many wonderful memories over many years.

Growing Things

Nor had I any experience growing things before I went to the farm.

There followed: the garden, Christmas trees, the pumpkin patch, and land-scaping.

1. The Garden

We began the garden in the spring of 1975. The basic crew included Jack McCrea, Patty Stapleton, John Stapleton, Carol Schaffer, Ellen Kelly and Paul Welch. That beginning had all to do with rocks. Jack still talks about the slave-like labor of removing the rocks. But we did, and planted the first garden actually, that year. I had little to do with the garden, for whatever reason, and most of the weeding and watering was done by John Stapleton.

Each year, we did a little more, and got a little better. In 1977 and 1978, the farm and garden became a wonderful outlet for the Lee family from Cambodia for whom I was the refugee sponsor. They would love to come out on Saturday morning and go through the garden weeding like it was nothing. (Happily, Bee Lee, to whom I was closest, went on to get an Engineering Degree at Cornell.)

By 1980, I was basically doing the garden myself and it had expanded to 40 feet by 200 feet along the road. It was enhanced greatly by the manure we had from the horses. Jack McCrea remembers fondly cleaning out the horse stalls in March and April in those years, and taking the manure to the garden by wheelbarrow. I was very organized in my approach and spent most Saturday mornings from April until September working on the garden. One specific memory is the rainy June day we were playing bridge at the farm and feasting on the wonderful peas, which were plentiful and sweet. Tomatoes were big. Always, the key moment was to pick all the tomatoes, green or not, to beat the frost. I usually counted them, and in one year there were 7,580. I would take load after load of food to friends in the city, our neighborhood centers, food pantries, etc. In addition, coming to pick vegetables was a big attraction for all our visitors. By the end, I was pretty good at it. It broke my heart when I sold the farm to leave behind the deep, rich soil that I had cultivated over the years. I even joked about taking the soil with me.

I have mentioned before that Ed had vigorously created by hand his own 40 foot by 200 foot garden, perpendicular to my patch, out by the creek. I kept it up for a year or two after he left, but then it was too much.

I conclude this section on the garden with the story of the Jesuit Volunteers and picking potatoes. In 1980, our first group of Jesuit Volunteers arrived, followed the next year by our own community service volunteers. Since they would always come at the end of August, and since the farm was a significant and constant outlet for them, it was natural that they would participate in harvesting. That first year, there was one particular young man who continued to rave how wonderful it was to dig potatoes. He turned out to be a dud. So it became a standing story that an evaluation tool of the incoming Jesuit
Volunteers was whether or not they liked to dig potatoes. Watch out for the ones who did.

2. The Pumpkin Patch

A second experience in growing was the pumpkin patch. As things emerged, the third of the garden closest to the house became a pumpkin patch. Because the soil was so good, there were literally hundreds of pumpkins each year and they were big. It was a favorite for many groups to come to Jack's pumpkin patch to pick their pumpkins each year.

3. Christmas Trees

Early on, we got into Christmas trees. Because we had already had the experience of selling Christmas trees as fund-raising efforts for the neighborhood centers, how wonderful it was to have the opportunity to plant 1,000 white pine trees right on the property of that farm.

I'll never forget that early April in 1976 with Jack McCrea, Patty and Mary Stapleton, Carol and Paul as we did our work, punctuated with commentary from Jack. Unfortunately, as it turned out, we were too lazy, not removing rocks or weeds. Only about 50 of the 1,000 grew, with the others being choked out. A year later John Stapleton transplanted the survivors into a consolidated stand. Some didn't survive the transplantation, but about 35 did and continued to grow wonderfully, until toward the end of my time, the Niagara Mohawk crew showed up one day unannounced and cut them all down, because they were, unknown to me, in a right of way under the power lines.

4. Landscaping

Because Father Peter, and company were more into what was happening in the house than the grounds outside, things were pretty much in disarray on the grounds.

Over the years, little by little, I attended to a variety of improvements.

First, and most simple was to work on the peonies and wisteria that immediately surrounded the house. Mother and Eleanor were helpful then. Mother always encouraged house painting (John Stapleton) and repairs.

Next, by the horseshoe driveway, I put in a strawberry patch and then asparagus.

By the fence leading to the garden, I put in grape vines.

I spent a whole year cleaning out the "Bermuda Triangle" that led up to the main entrance to the upper floor of the barn, including hard physical labor of rooting out stumps, and then planted fruit trees.

Within the pole barn, I remember the challenge of shoveling and disbursing whole loads of sawdust, and then the receiving, transporting and storing of bales and bales of hay for the winter.

All of this was wonderful for physical and mental health. No need of health clubs or the like in this time. (As a substitute, the day that I closed on the sale of the farm was the day that I began my practice of walking three miles every morning which I continue until this day.)

Friends and Events

Of course, my time at the farm was marked by many wonderful events and experiences.

I mention some of them here in roughly chronological order.

1. Early Experiences

My first experience was not a positive one. Even before I moved in, but after Peter Simeone's crew had moved out, I was showing my friend Pat Chervena the farm. We ended up in lengthy conversation sitting on the floor upstairs, in which she basically told me that our relationship was over.

Harry Honan was a great help moving in - when he found the right farm. I remember my wonderful first dinner at the farm, the day I moved in, when Fred and Judy Fusco and Mary Stapleton came, and we had wonderful conversation on the front porch on a beautiful September day.

With encouragement of Bob McAuliffe, I had a housewarming party on September 14 of that year. I remember spending much of the day vacuuming the literally thousands of buckwheat flies who were constant companions at the farm (and every other house in the area). During that party, I had a call from my long time friend Susie Smith Saulniers who told me that her father had fallen and broken his leg and was in the hospital and would I go visit him. I did and thus began not only a wonderful ten-year relationship 'with him but also the beginning of my experiences supporting the older generation. I often said
that my experiences with Bill Smith gave me practice _and confidence for being with my father after my mother died, and the other older persons with whom I spent time.

When she came home that Christmas after, Susie came to the farm the first time and we had a great evening.

In this early time, I remember wonderful times by the fire in the living room with Mary and Patty Stapleton solving all the world's problems.

2. Friends Near and Far-The Pig Roast

From the beginning, there were visits from my Syracuse friends like the Bazydlos, the Lewis's, (Lisa) the Fuscos, (Sara and Amy), the Hughes, the Monsours, and the McCreas. Their kids had the opportunity to ride the horse or pony, see the animals, pick vegetables, jump in the hay. My brother and his kids Derrick and Laurette also came often.

And also friends from afar came to visit like the Hoopers, Baxters, Harriet Rose and others.

For these folks from near and far, the pig roast became an annual event. Preparations would begin at 10:00 P.M. or so with the building of the fire and erecting the spit. Whether it was Steve Bosch and Ed, or Steve Holbrook, we took turns throughout the night in shifts watching the fire. In the early years, my mother would come and help put the tablecloths on hay bales we had arranged as tables, etc. Guests would begin to arrive at 1 :00. Never have I had pork that was so good or melted in your mouth. Folks brought other things. The many kids were entertainment enough, although we had volley ball games and a softball game in the pasture. I think Fred Fusco hurt his leg one year in one such game. Still today, happily, young adults like Mark Walton or Derrick will tell me
they remember fondly the pig roasts.

3. Other Events

Over the years, I entertained many work-related groups from both Syracuse and the State. I remember on June 1, 1977 when we held the first Catholic Charities golf tournament at Hill and Dale followed by a picnic at the farm. I can still see Paul Welch charging madly through the pasture after the towering fly ball that Bob Weismore hit.

Recently going through some Catholic Conference files, I came across minutes of the Housing-Committee meeting held at the farm in August 1986.

4. Jesuit Volunteers

From 1980 to 1988, the farm was an important focus of activity for Jesuit Volunteers. They spent a lot of time with the garden, with the animals, leading kids groups from the neighborhood centers and for dinners.

I especially remember the dinners where Carol played such an important role and where Sharon Dettmer and Felicia Castricone came into our lines. I remember especially one dinner when seated at the opposite end of the table was a very attractive young woman, Liz Ruberto who I was kind of interested in - until she told me I reminded her of her father. (sign of aging). I also remember a wonderful evening with Eileen Cavan. Evening activities after dinner were held in the living room with the fire roaring and included both cards and Trivial Pursuit. All in all, those times with the Jesuit Volunteers were good for them and me. There were two kinds of special events with Jesuit Volunteers from the Northeast.

In 1983 Mary Jo Slowey and the Albany volunteers came for the weekend. They helped with wood. Mary Jo was kind enough to accompany me to Liverpool to meet with my brother and Fr. Jim O'Connell, at a time when my brother was having one of his crises.

For three years, Jesuit Volunteers from all around the Northeast came for Memorial Day weekend. It was wonderful being surrounded by such committed, attractive, intelligent, enthusiastic young people and I was delighted to be able to provide a forum for them to get together.

5. Close Friends - Memorable Experiences

There were countless dinners, evenings by the fire, discussions and games with my close friends over the years.

The McCrea's were constant visitors. Thank God they weren't hurt the night their car ended up in a field when they skidded on ice on Apeclea Road.

Paul Welch, Carol Schaffer and later Sharon Dettmer and Felicia Castricone were constant visitors, either with or without Jesuit Volunteers.

So too I had many wonderful nights with John Roark, Joe Phillips, Ann Renski and Mary Clark. John Roark was at the farm the night that John Paul II was elected Pope, and I remember John's discouragement in predicting there wouldn't be married priests during the remainder of John's ministry.

John, Jack McCrea and Dan DeLorne came regularly for our bridge group.

Of many special times with Tom and Tina Bozydlo, I remember one NCAA tournament game — UCLA vs Louisville, where much to Tina's dismay, Tom got up on the roof to fix the TV antenna. That night I sliced my finger pretty good while cutting an acorn squash.

The farm was also host to two of my wonderful older friends, Laura Kohles and Florence McCarthy. Mother to me as she was, Laura was always bringing me dishes, silverware, tableclothes, etc. I still have the wonderful pictures that Florence painted of the farm.

I especially enjoyed my last years there and evenings with John and Patty Stapleton. It was a great way to end fourteen wonderful years.

Epilogue

Many times since 1988 I have been asked if I missed the farm. My standard response has been: the farm was great for my 20's and 30's. A church rectory is just fine for my 40's and 50's.