A Willis WelcomePaul Willis (25) 66–69By Kendra Kimbirauskas“Agrarianism: It is not so much a philosophy as apractice, an attitude, a loyalty, and a passion – all based in aclose connection with the land. It results in a sound localeconomy in which producers and consumers are neighbors andin which nature herself becomes the standard for work andproduction.” -Wendell BerryI didn’t know much about Iowa before arriving. What I didknow either came from attending agribusiness conferenceswhere I learned that Iowa is a national leader in corporate animalagriculture or from environmental forums where I discoveredthat monoculture crops and factory farms were stripping theenvironment and quality <strong>of</strong> life away from rural communities.As I traveled southbound down I-35 toward Des Moines inmy packed car, I couldn’t help but notice the unimaginablenumber <strong>of</strong> hog factories that speckled the Iowa countryside. Ifound myself wondering what I had got into – leavingMinnesota where I could go to my local co-op at any time forfamily farm fresh goods for a state that prided itself on theability to mass produce standardized food products laden withchemicals, hormones and antibiotics.As I continued southward, I came upon a sign for Thorton,Iowa. I remembered a standing invitation from Paul Willis todrop in the ‘next time I drive through’. Because it was EasterSunday, I was reluctant to disturb Paul and his wife Phyllis as Ihad suspected that they would be busy entertaining family andguests in celebration <strong>of</strong> the holiday. However, since I had givenPaul my word that I would call when I was in the area, I thoughtthat I should, at the very least, say hello.Paul had insisted that I come to his farm and join his familyfor Easter dinner and so I left I-35, drove by countless hogfactories and came upon a quaint grey farm house with spunkypigs friskily running all around the adjacent fields. This is what afarm looks like.Paul and Phyllis Willis have been farming since the mid-1970s. They raise their pigs outdoors on pastures, in strawbedded hoop houses or barns, never confining them in crates orbarren pens.I sat down to dinner with the Willis family and becameengaged in typical family gathering conversations – religion,politics and <strong>of</strong> course, pigs. We ate food grown and raised byPaul and Phyllis and discussed the status <strong>of</strong> American animalagriculture and family farmers in America.Paul is manager <strong>of</strong> Niman Ranch Pork Company, an<strong>of</strong>fshoot <strong>of</strong> Niman Ranch, which is a collection <strong>of</strong> independentfamily farmers who share Paul’s belief that pigs should be raisedhumanely, without the use <strong>of</strong> hormones or antibiotics. Paul andPhyllis care deeply about their animals and strictly adhere to theAnimal Welfare Institute’s humane husbandry standards.After dinner, Paul took me on a tour <strong>of</strong> his farm where Iaccompanied him as he checked on sows with new litters. Paul10 8 FON NEWSLETTERPhoto: Kendra KimbirauskasPaul and some <strong>of</strong> his friends in Iowaexplained to me the challenges <strong>of</strong> raising pigs on pasture anddescribed his reasons for farming traditionally instead <strong>of</strong>compromising his values and industrializing his productionmethods. As Paul peeked in one hoop house to find a sow witha new litter <strong>of</strong> piglets, he turned to me and said, “No matterhow many times I see new piglets, it never gets old.”As we approached the Niman Ranch Pork Company <strong>of</strong>fices,Paul received a call on his cell phone. It was Phyllis who hadtaken a trip down to observe the wildlife at the wetland on thefamily’s farm. She was calling to report that a pair <strong>of</strong> Sand HillCranes had been spotted. Paul was elated and we sped <strong>of</strong>f inthe truck, down the winding dirt roads toward the other farm,hoping to get a look at the birds.Fortunately, when we arrived at the wetland, the Sand Hillcranes were there waiting for us—along with a number <strong>of</strong> otherwater fowl that Paul was eagerly working to identify with the birdbook that he kept in the pickup. I must say that I wasembarrassed at my lack <strong>of</strong> bird knowledge compared to Paul’s.After the cranes took flight, I was fortunate enough toaccompany Paul and his family on what his daughter informedme was a long time family tradition – the search <strong>of</strong> the Pasqueflower. Paul and Phyllis have 140 acres <strong>of</strong> natural and restoredIowa prairie. Paul explained to me that each year, the Pasque –or Easter – flower is the first blooming prairie flower in thespring time. So being Easter Sunday, it only seemed appropriatethat we set out to find the Pasque flower. After walking therolling hills <strong>of</strong> the Willis’s prairie, finally we came across the littlelavender flower. Certainly spring had arrived.After I left the Willis’s home and returned to I-35 heading inthe direction <strong>of</strong> my new home, I reflected on my experience atthe Willis’s. Paul and Phyllis are the farmers that Wendell Berrywrites about. They are people that respect the land, love theanimals and are stewards <strong>of</strong> the environment.It is because <strong>of</strong> farmers like the Willises that I feel morestrongly than ever that our relationships to the land, to the foodthat sustains us and to the people who produce it, are worthfighting for and why I am very happy to be in Iowa.•Kendra Kimbirauskassi works full time for the Sierra Club NorthStar Chapter. She is the organizer for the Sierra Club’s Antibiotics inAgriculture Campaign.This article first appered in the North Star Chapter newsletter. It isprreprinted here by kind permission.
(Continued from page 1)Remembering the Honda 50...Honda 50s around. In fact, PC/<strong>Nigeria</strong> provided VW kombisfor our transport. These were stationed at strategic locations andwere to be used primarily for the collective shopping use <strong>of</strong>volunteers in the area. During much <strong>of</strong> our first year, WalterBarkas (03) 61–64 and I had one at Iddo-Ekiti. Before finding ahouse and moving there the second year, Walt used this kombito commute the 22 km to his Aiyede-Ekiti secondary school andback each day. After that, it was good-bye to the kombi—PC/Ibadan retrieved it for region-wide use. But Johnny Skeese, whowas teaching at Christ the King College (CKC) in Onitsha, hadby this time purchased his own 250 cc Honda and, with hisflaming red beard, was somewhat famous (notorious?) fortooling aroundthat wellknown markettown and otherEastern Regionenvirons onthis machine.Learning <strong>of</strong>this, I made myway down toLagos andpurchased myown Honda305 cc Dreamfrom theLeventis Bros.Thus beganour plans toJohnny in more recentyears at home in Kentucky.make an end<strong>of</strong> the firstyear (i.e. Dec‘62/Jan ’63) motorcycle trip to Timbuktu. Aside from being ametaphor for “the end <strong>of</strong> the world,” this historic city in Malihad also been the successful destination <strong>of</strong> a trip taken by some<strong>of</strong> the <strong>Nigeria</strong> 02 folks from Nsukka (though that voyage in anautomobile, I believe) during their summer vacation <strong>of</strong> ’62.At the end <strong>of</strong> the 1962 school year, Johnny came over fromOnitsha, and we were “<strong>of</strong>f.” The general plan was to follow thecoast to Abidjan, and then head north to the Malian desert. Butsocial animals that we are (have any <strong>of</strong> you ever traveledanywhere with Johnny Skeese?), a considerable amount <strong>of</strong> ourvacation time had already expired by the time we reached theIvory Coast. (The country <strong>of</strong>fices still ran PC rest houses in1962 and lots <strong>of</strong> PCVs and other contacts were also stationedalong the way). Already mid-January, we began heading north,with Johnny in the lead over the dusty dry-season roads. Just 13kms south <strong>of</strong> Bouake, I took a bad fall—breaking my right leg (afact I would subsequently only learn on an X-ray). Realizing thatI was missing, Johnny returned a few minutes later to find me allskinned and bleeding in the road. Naturally, his immediate ‘firstaid’was to set up his tripod and say, “Let’s get a picture <strong>of</strong> this!”Though painful, no bones were displaced, so we tightened myboot and I followed him on into Bouake where we foundIvoirian PCV Marie Rice—who would become our guardianangel for the next few days. She and other PCVs there got me toa French doc who diagnosed my leg as broken and put it in acast with a big walking metal spike at the bottom. PCVs therecoined it my ‘Baoule’ cast. We never made it to Timbuktu. Butwe did continue the trip, I by train to Ouagadougou and desertlorry across to Niamey, and Johnny on his Honda 250.Of course, the Ivory Coast Peace Corps paid my medicalbills in Bouake (perhaps later reimbursed by Peace Corps<strong>Nigeria</strong>) and I had to return the following vacation break toretrieve my Honda Dream (astory for another time).But what does all this haveto do with the Honda 50?Well, not long after this, itseems, the PC edict came downprohibiting the privatepurchase <strong>of</strong> vehicles while stillin active PC service. PCLambrettas at first appeared,then perhaps a few 50 ccMotoguccis. But it was theHonda 50 that would “stick”and become so associated withthe <strong>Nigeria</strong>n PCV! We have<strong>of</strong>ten wondered whether wehad something to do with its<strong>Nigeria</strong>n PC birth!•How many other Honda stories are out there? Ed.Jack Finaly in 2002 at the40+1 anniversay dinnerNews Of Jack And Johnny Since <strong>Nigeria</strong>Following their PC service and a year at the Schweitzer Hospital inGabon, Finlay and Skeese returned to the States where Jack started gradschool and Johnny went to work for the Office <strong>of</strong> Economic Opportunityand later did grad work as part <strong>of</strong> a career in math and science high schoolteaching in Berea, KY where he still resides. Jack spent most <strong>of</strong> his careerin international public health.They have maintained their contact and friendship over the years,Johnny being best man when Jack and Teresita married in ‘67 and Jackdoing the honors when Johnny and Carolyn married in ’68. They manage toget together every couple <strong>of</strong> years. The Finlays, who have a grown daughterand son, now divide their retired years between the US (Montana/Louisiana) and the Philippines (Palawan). Johnny claims he will finallyretire this year; he and Carolyn have four sons (and three grandkids), alsograduates <strong>of</strong> his beloved Berea College and the University <strong>of</strong> Kentucky.WINTER 2003 119