Our Rural Roots
Time for New Dreams
There once was a family that stood on a patch of Indiana dirt and dreamed. They didn't dream of grandeur but rather of a home and a farm -- a place to raise children, host Sunday dinners and gather with The Community Church Women's Guild. They pictured a simple Foursquare house, the kind you'd find in black-and-white photos, built with Indiana hardwood and hand tools. It was sturdy, practical and full of hope.
But, time marched on. The family moved on, and the house passed through hands that cared less and less. The roof began to leak, the floors softened with rot, and the paint faded. The modest, neatly kept yard grew tangled and overgrown. With each year, the house became more a shadow of what it had been.
When we bought the property, I stood in front of that house staring at its sagging roof and shattered windows. It was hard not to feel a twinge of sadness -- not just for the house, but for the dreams and memories that once filled it. It wasn't salvageable. The years of neglect had been too much. Still, it felt wrong to dismiss its story without a moment of recognition. It had stood for something once, and that deserved respect. I pulled out my camera to record the memory.
Tearing it down was necessary. The house had become a hazard, and its absence opened the door for new possibilities. Owning the farmland and outbuildings that surrounded it, we knew this was the chance to improve the land.
Now, on that same plot, we are beginning to shape new dreams. I'm currently working on convincing my husband, Chris, to turn it into a cattle feedlot -- or at the very least, a hay barn. Fingers crossed we will find a way to bring productivity back and add a new chapter to this proud place.
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-- Jennifer (Jent) Campbell pushes the shutter and captures life from a seven-generation Indiana family farm. She also writes a blog called Farm Wife Feeds (farmwifefeeds.com). Follow her on Twitter @plowwife and on the @girlstalkag podcast.
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