Life in a small Iowa town of 800 residents, surrounded by acres of family-owned farms, offered experiences rich in hard work, community values, and hard-earned wisdom. My wife, Linda, and I both grew up in this town and though our childhoods were shaped by different circumstances, the lessons we learned from our families have remained at the core of who we are.
Linda’s upbringing on a traditional family farm in southern Iowa was full of opportunities to learn resilience, responsibility, and the deep connection between people and nature.
The farmland was purchased by her great-great-grandparents and has now been lived on and farmed by eight generations of her family. Life on the farm didn’t come with weekends off or leisurely mornings. When the cattle were hungry, it didn’t matter if you were tired or if a blizzard had rolled in with temperatures plunging to -10 degrees. Life revolved around planting, harvesting, and caring for animals. Her family didn’t just live on the land—they lived with the land, adapting to its challenges and celebrating its gifts.
From an early age, Linda learned the value of hard work and teamwork.
Farming wasn’t a job for just one person; it was a family effort. She vividly remembers her mother carrying her along while tending the animals so her dad could focus on the fields. Everyone had a role, and there were no shortcuts when cows needed milking or crops needed care. She recalls mornings that started long before sunrise, the smell of fresh hay in the air, and the hum of big equipment echoing as her father worked the fields. Each task, no matter how small, had a purpose—to sustain the family and teach the satisfaction of seeing the results of honest labor.
The farm also taught Linda about the unpredictability of life.
A sudden storm or an early frost could wipe out months of effort and lead to devastating financial loss. But her family didn’t dwell on setbacks; they adapted. They planted gardens every year, raising enough food to keep the family fed until the next season. They stretched resources, fixed what was broken, and made the most of what they had. This resourcefulness and ability to persevere instilled in Linda a quiet confidence and sense of security—the knowledge that no matter what, they could provide for themselves.
Meanwhile, my upbringing in town was different but no less formative.
My father’s illness meant our family faced unexpected challenges. When he became totally disabled, my mother stepped into the role of breadwinner, working at the local post office. From her, I learned the importance of perseverance, quiet strength, and the sacrifices required to care for a family. Watching her balance work and caregiving showed me the true meaning of devotion.
Despite his disability, my father found ways to teach me important lessons about life and determination. His knees wouldn’t bend, which meant he couldn’t drive a standard vehicle, but he was determined to teach me how to drive. He convinced the examiner at the county driver’s license office to let him test using an old Cadillac with automatic dimmers, and sure enough, he earned his license. He promised the examiner he would only drive long enough to teach me, and that’s exactly what he did. That moment left a lasting impression on me—not because I didn’t still have to learn how to drive, but because my father refused to let his limitations prevent him from being a dad who showed up for his son. He taught me that a parent’s love finds a way, even when the odds seem stacked against them.
Life in town also taught me the importance of community.
It was a place where you never passed someone without a wave or a nod. When one family struggled, others stepped in to help. If a farmer fell ill or injured, neighbors would harvest his crops and tend to his animals before their own. That sense of collective success—that no one is truly alone—shaped how I view relationships and responsibility.
The lessons Linda and I carry from our childhoods come from different places—the fields of her family farm and the small-town life I knew—but they converge in powerful ways.
We both learned that life isn’t always easy, but it’s always meaningful. The harder you work, the more meaningful it becomes. We learned to appreciate the people who stand by us. On the farm, family was vital—everyone’s role mattered. In town, neighbors were like extended family, always there when you needed them.
These lessons have shaped our marriage and our approach to life.
On the farm, when something broke or stopped working, you didn’t throw it away. You fixed it. You found a way to make it work again. That mindset has guided us through life’s challenges—always striving to improve what we’ve been given. Whether it’s nurturing relationships, solving problems, or learning something new, the values of resilience, hard work, and resourcefulness remain at the forefront.
Looking back, those early years—sometimes challenging, often humbling—were filled with gifts. Gifts of strength, gratitude, and love that have carried us through decades of life together. The farm shaped Linda, the town shaped me, and together, those roots remind us of where we came from and the lives we’ve worked to build—one lesson, one challenge, and one moment at a time.
January 2025
