Yield of Dreams
To our readers: This is the first in an intermittent series of stories reflecting American values and community achievement. We call it Quintessential America. Some will be big stories. Some will be small. They’ll all be about Americans doing what we do best — sharing, helping, living.
Farmers Jim Robbins and John Kiefner knew without being told that being a good neighbor is deceptively simple. Not always easy. But simple.
You see a need. And you meet it. They’re both aw-shucks about that. They’re quiet folks. Farmers. They till nearly 4,000 acres of the best corn fields in Illinois.
Thousands of their neighbors in Will County, 30 miles south of Chicago, depend on pantries because they are too often hungry.
Need. Meet it.
So Robbins and Kiefner harvest two acres of golden sweet corn every year — The Sweet Corn Project — and deliver it to six pantries. Nobody asked. The corn commandoes pay for the gas in their corn delivery trucks. The time is their own. The sweat, too. They recruit community helpers who get the point of generosity.
They are paid, of course, but with deep affection by people who otherwise would be strangers.
Robbins has been farming on his family’s 3,000-acre plot near Manhattan, Ill., for 30 years. This large agricultural arc around Will County is the deep, verdant bowl of the nation’s corn basket.
This particular food makes a tangible difference for people on the edge of very hard times. And many who are past the edge. It’s 60,000 ears of a joyful miracle. The farmers have worked that miracle for two years now, and eight other farmers in Illinois have taken up this neighbor-to-neighbor handshake. The state’s main growers association gives a hearty thumbs-up.
“Anytime you can see people being made so happy, it makes you feel very good,” Robbins said. “There were people at the pantry who said it was the best corn they had ever had. And it makes it worthwhile when people really need it.”
“This lets us show people who we are,” he added. “Also it lets us invite others from the community to be a part of it — churches, Boy Scouts. Plus, all of our family is out there harvesting. My wife, dad, nieces and nephews. Seven altogether.”
Robbins figures there are eight other Illinois corn farmers reaching out to pantries.
Their little group is growing. Dale Bormet, a third farmer who joined the project this year, delivered tomatoes, peppers and beans in August.
Kiefner’s wife, Sherri, is his partner in this, too.
“It really is wonderful. It’s great when you do something and it is appreciated and it’s not going to go to waste,” she said. “It is nice to keep it local. There are needy people all over the place … you can at least take care of your own.”
Rose Walton, 86, runs one of the pantries. The economy doubled her brood to 1,500 families. The corn? “It’s a blessing … ” You find new friends in the strangest places.