FAR VIEW RIDGE JERSEY FARM
CHAPTER ONE OF . . . . ?

My understanding is that the farm produced a bounty of fruit, as did other farms in the region. So that a large country squire house was built in 1892. It had dormers and a hot-water furnace. Technicians were brought from Chicago to install the heating system.

The barn began rather modestly parallel with the front road. It had good quality carpentry—some sawn lumber. An addition at right angles tripled the covered space. It had hand hewn beams and posts but sawn braces. Wooden pegs held the structure together. I guess that George Babcock had it built. He was, actually, a traveling salesman using the farm as an investment. In his travels, he brought home a beautiful white birch. It provided a climbing and swinging tree for about ninety years. I used to wonder how it could survive the windstorms that came through, threatening to tear up everything on the farm site.

The barn is the chief center of activity on a dairy farm. So we return to it, in this chapter:

My parents bought the place in 1922. The dreams and plans were influenced by the image of the noble farmer, husband of the land, free to make decisions, and breathing clean air.

My parents were unusual in that both had been to Michigan Agricultural College. (Now Michigan State University.) They had seen North Dakota, Nebraska, British Colombia. Dad was on an in-transit leave from the army a month after the Armistice when he married my mother whom he had known for ten years. He stayed six more months on duty at the hospital at Plattsburg, New York. . . . . wondering, in his letters how he could support a family on the Army wages.

They were thirty years old and not having put down roots for ten years. For a couple of years Dad struggled to help keep the summer guests happy at the Tourists Home Hotel in Saugatuck. Being called upon to solve problems at all hours made him jump at a chance to buy the Babcock Farm. There he would use his college training to raise purebred Jerseys and produce pure, fresh milk. . . and, at least three children.

They bought cows from a farmer south of the area and had to drive them home. To build a warm shelter for the cows, he purchased dozens of railroad freight car doors and had them delivered to the siding of the Interurban running along the west road. These heavy, high quality panels became several other useful structures: an Icehouse, pig shelters. The panels lasted for fifty years when given some protection against the ground.

In the summer, he had to buy milk from neighboring farmers, at times. The milch cows rarely exceeded a dozen. Early, before the depression, we acquired a steam boiler and sterilizing machine, a vacuum system for milking, a high volume cooler and . . . . We subscribed to the Hoard’s Dairyman published in Wisconsin. I would read it and dream of having a REAL dairy. Just before the crash, Dad tried to sell Delco Light systems. He had one installed in the barn, sending 32 volts DC to the house. He had a demonstrator set mounted on a trailer, which he pulled to prospective customers. I suspect that most prospective customers were looking over their shoulders for the "high line" to provide regular commercial alternating current. – avoiding having to buy 32 volt appliances.

The cow barn was relatively comfortable in winter having three horse stalls and a dozen cow stanchions. Good doors led to the haymow, across the driveway west. Two wood-stave silos on the south, provided silage. A concrete walkway and gutter made scooping up manure into the monorail litter carrier easy."

During the next 79 years, his parents and then their second son and Russell’s brother, Merlin Valleau, ran the farm. After Merlin’s death, Russell Valleau felt strongly he did not wish his beloved ravine and woods to be part of an expensive subdivision. He wanted to donate the land "for a public patrimony" to the Nature Conservancy. However, the land did not meet their guidelines and he was turned down. In talking to Shelley and Bob Walters, Russell expressed his wishes and Shelley began to think of a way to preserve the farm and share it. It was about this time that Leisure Acres, a company picnic site in Holland announced it was closing after 20+ years. Suddenly, all the pieces fit together and Russell, Bob and Shelley began to talk of dreams and possibilities for the land.

About this time, Russell wrote Shelley Walters, saying "I have had no real inspiration about the 37 acres. I believe you understand my feelings about the deep woods. Thus, a stipulation against destruction of the woods would not be a burden to you."

Then he continued, "Dear Dancing Lady, The essay on the obverse side is from midnight reminiscences about the home farm. I want to do more on it . . . so the buyerfeels the past and dreams of their future".

After a few months of planning and talking, Bob & Shelley Walters bought 86 acres of the original farm, including the deep woods, ravine and good rich farmland in July of 1997. There was not even a fence post on the land. With many wonderful details, hard work and the blessing of our Lord, the farm opened its gates to the public in mid summer of 1998. Sadly Russell died before he could see his (and our) dreams become reality. When we look back, we are truly amazed and very thankful that we have such a life. We are very happy to share this special farm with all the city folks. I tell my friends "I sell smiles and peaceful moments." In truth, we are just the caretakers for a few years of a very special corner of the world. Come and see for yourself!