Jemma's Tales
Jemma's Tales

The Life of G.H.| My Dad

January 13, 2024

Today is my Dad's Birthday, he was born in 1918 in Rexburg Idaho, he passed away on February 24th, 1993.

He has been gone so long, too long.

Can you even imagine being born in 1918? 

What a remarkable well-lived life as a Farmer.


Dad was a mild mannerd man with a penchant for hardwork.

He was resilient to the cold and being uncomfortable.

He was a sheep shearer, trapper and served in World War II.

Creatures comforts were of little concern to him.

His mind was always conjuring up ideas, plans; methods to improve farming, fishing hunting and trapping.


Such a remarkable era of life, he was the youngest son of six children. (Older brother not in this photo)

What an age of innoncence - where goodness was embraced and honor was respected.

Instead of all of the technical gadgets we have now, which in my opinion only serve to distract us.

Dad lived life in real-time not artificial time.

In that real time my Dad lived life to the fullest.


My Dad The Farmer

In his early years Dad earned enough money as a sheep-shearer (combind with a small loan from my Mom's mom to purchase the Gideon place.

The Gideon place was just about 20 acres of fantastic farm land-rich soil and plenty of water.

Naturally Mom and Dad paid back Grandma-because a handshake was a handshake and a promise was a promise.

My parents did well as agricultural Farmers and as the years rolled on so did their accumulation of land.

By the time it was all said and done they had acquired nearly 150 acres land.

They grew hay, wheat and potatoes.


Rural America is how I grew up. It was the nuts and bolts of America.

There was a pride of ownership in not only the land, the farm and the people who carefully tended to it.

There was loyalty to America itself.

Rural America is rapidly shrinking and has been for decades.

I write this today for two reasons;

One to honor my Dad and two to implore all of my readers to take note of the importance of the Farmer.


The Great Recession accelerated that contradiction as rural manurfacturing jobs disappeared and people moved from the countryside to cities and suburbs to seek work.

Between the years of 2008 and 2017 metropolitian areas which included central cities of at least 50,000 people accounted for 99 percent of all job and population growth. 

Unfortunatley because of this shift in the ability to make a living as a farmer, the age of the Farmer is also decling.

The average age of a Farmer is now 57+.

I believe that an awarness needs to begin in our schools, townhalls, elections and communities to encourage young people to work with their hands in the trades and in the fields.

The USDA has resources to help.

I am proud to say I am a Farmers Daughterđź’•

Thinking of you with love Dad, today and everyday.

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  1. Lovely piece & how wonderful you have terrific old photos! I respect your parent’s work ethic & strength. What lives they lived!

  2. What a sweet tribute to your dad. I agree there are so many changes going on and Farmers are fleeting away for engineered foods and imported goods. Our good acres of soil that grew a lot of our needs have been sold off for new housing and subdivisions. My grandparents lived on a farm and that was the way of life. They were proud people that worked hard. I am glad you think often of your sweet dad. Hugs. Kris

  3. Here all the small farms are being bought by Mega Farms. Family farms cannot compete with the reduced costs of that those mega farms can get. A few are holding on to family farms by having the mega farms put huge barns for chickens or pigs and working for a wage taking care of those animals for the company. No incentive for younger family to farm. It is more of a part-time job. I do know a few small farmers. They have to be willing to work dusk to dawn in all weather every day of the year. It's hard. Especially if you can earn more money working a 40 hours week.

  4. Good morning dearest sister! It's Anita....Blogger no longer recognizes me. Upon reading your wonderful story, of course my eyes welled up with tears. I feel the long journey of grief that is part of of existence, as you speak so highly of your father. I feel the longing to ask my father more questions than I ever thought to ask him when I was a young and indifferent daughter to him.I feel the tender longing for the world that we both remember that "A promise was a promise." Thank you for your beautiful writing that conveys such warm, wisdom and love.

  5. Jemma, this is such a neat post. Your dad was a great man and raised a great daughter with American values. I worry about the way our land is being swallowed up by concrete. How will we feed ourselves in the future?


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