Next Step Produce Farm - Phoenix of Food Security?

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A farmer’s barn is like their fingerprint, while seemingly similar on the outside, it reveals the unique character of who they are when you look a little closer. Each farmer knows the cobwebbed corners of their barn, the way the beams cross and fold amongst each other, and the slant of light that filters through small windows and huge doors through the seasons. The farmer’s boots wear down the boards as their feet shuffle over familiar paths, to the rhythm of the hours.

Barns are filled with the basic needs of farm life from big tractors that get the job done to old boots that have a few more days in them.

There’s warehouse-sized rooms for the machines and equipment that keep the farm running.

Every barn, whether for animals, seeds, vegetables, or grains, has at least one workshop filled with tools—shiny new tools and old ones worn to the pattern of calloused fingers.

Storage rooms hold everything that isn’t needed “right now,” small parts too valuable to throw away, and seasonal tools needed for specific jobs. And every barn has the odd, old buckets of scraps that make no sense to an outsider, but the farmer knows exactly what’s in them and where to find it.

A farmer’s barn is a portal to their DNA. It’s their character, their fingerprint, their identity.

So when a fire takes a barn, it can take a life with it, even if no one is harmed. It burns away the past; it leaves the future edgy.

Long time and deeply respected Southern Maryland farmers, Heinz and Gabrielle from Next Step Produce Farm, just suffered a tragic and devastating barn fire. One that ripped the heart out of their grain operation.

Photos copyright Phae Photography

The fire destroyed 25 years worth of cultivated diverse grain and seed already harvested and in cold storage for this year’s sales and next year’s planting. The carefully-chosen grain-cleaning and sorting equipment that Heinz tinkered to perfection for 20 years sits in piles of mangled metal on the earthen floor of the burnt barn. The main tractor with the compost-spreading loader bucket is now a skeleton haunting the parking pad of the big barn.

Photos copyright Phae Photography

Fire ravenously consumed the workshop filled with irreplaceable tools fitted perfectly to each of their hands, where Heinz taught his daughter, Raphaelle, woodworking; the place where they created functional beauty from the trees growing generously around them.

Their storage areas, holding the many supplies needed to run this farm, all wiped out with the raging flames leaving behind smoldering, smelly piles of debris.

The fire gutted this operation leaving local businesses without their sources of grain, community members without cherished beans, rice, oats, and taking away the family’s food they grew, harvested, and milled for their own use.

Sure, insurance will kick in, but only about 15-25% of the actual replacement value of almost everything. And this doesn’t even begin to account for the irreplaceable items, the seeds that for decades were perfectly cultivated for this soil, the custom equipment, the artisan mill, and the aching obliteration of one farmer’s fingerprint.

Now, thickening this morning’s lingering smoke-pungent air, there are 10,000 unanswered questions the family must urgently grapple with. The biggest question they face right now is this: To rebuild or not to rebuild? What is the right Next Step?

Photo Copyright Phae Photography

Even as they grieve their losses, there are crops to deal with, greenhouses to prep for winter, a continuing stream of produce orders to fill. The work continues. But fields of sunflowers, grains, and beans await their turn for a harvest that might not come. What will become of the crops in the field? Will they turn them under and compost it all? If they harvest, how will they sort and clean the beans, sunflower seeds, millet, sesame, popcorn, sorghum, and rice? If cleaned, where will it all go? How and where will it get stored? The carefully saved seeds to plant next year are gone. What will they replant next season? What will they do for income with their primary products lingering in a smokey haze around the smoldering beams? How will they go on? Do they even have the heart to continue?

Yes, a barn fire consumes. It consumes one future even as it potentially forges another.

Heinz and Gabrielle have mentored, nourished, nurtured and fed 1000s of us over the past 25 years as they stewarded this small farm. From the early days of Heinz’ boisterous grin behind the table at many local markets, to the recent years of sourcing to high end restaurants, bakeries, small businesses, CSAs, and our own individual households, they’ve created and sustained a model of truly restorative farming in our region; they’ve hosted and mentored countless new farmers. Indeed, they’ve dedicated their lives to building healthy ecosystems and a vibrant food system—one where ordinary people can walk the land where their food is grown and experience the plant diversity, soil health, and resilience that we long for these days. They’ve inspired us to look closely at the food we eat. They’ve given us hope and a sanctuary through the challenges and difficulties in our own lives.

For a farm that has taught us about natural resilience, could this unspeakable tragedy lead to a rebirth of sorts? Could it be an opportunity to pass the torch from tired backs to a young and energetic generation? Could this be a quiet invitation to the community that Next Step Produce has lovingly tended for the past 25 years to show up to create the biggest “barn raising” we’ve ever seen? A chance for all of us who they have nourished to nourish them back and a chance to rebuild a future for the next generation literally from the ashes, while simultaneously on the strong foundation of the past generation?

As Gabrielle says, “our greatest crop is our children.” With 3 strong, smart daughters, she’s right. And so it is that their middle child, Raphaelle (Phae, for short), has beautiful visions for the future of this farm. They’ve been talking, discussing possibilities, creating ideas, and planning for the future for a couple years now.

Suddenly, decisions and actions are urgent.

Raphaelle in the wreckage. Photo credit Matthew Wallace

Now is their chance to rebuild, if we help make it possible. But maybe this time with the next generation’s fingerprints. Maybe it’s time for Raphaelle to create grooves in a new barn floor, to know each nook and cranny of her workshops, to see her visions of community come to life in a way that’s only possible because of the loving foundation her parents built 25 years ago.

Heinz and Gabrielle have ageless wisdom gained from working the land while listening to nature—the way they know things as only older farmers can. No one knows better than Phae that, if this miracle happens, she’d be standing on the shoulders of giants.

Now don’t get me wrong. I can’t see that they will be going out to pasture any time soon. Anyone who knows Heinz knows, like any overly-stoic farmer, he won’t rest until he’s 6-feet under. So he’ll be there, working beside Phae and her sisters as long as he can. And Gabrielle–she grows veggies, builds community, bakes bread, tends to a simmering pot of beans, and feeds a crowd! They are still farmers to their cores even as they bear witness to the ashes of their past.

So yes, perhaps the phoenix metaphor is appropriate here. This fire is devastating, to be sure, but it’s a chance to reclaim—no claim!—a new future.

What would it look like if we, a loving and lovingly-cultivated community, and those who care about restorative farming gave Raphaelle’s vision wings? How can we come together as a community of ordinary people who love and deeply respect what Next Step Produce has painstakingly built for 25 years, and say “Yes! we want another 25 years, please. Here is what I can offer.”

And the even bigger question we must ask ourselves in this moment of decision, “What happens if we don’t raise this barn?”

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For those who know and love the family, your support means the world. You know how special they are.

For those who don’t know them but have a heart for clean, resilient farming and food systems and want to support THANK YOU.

Here is what they need urgently:

1. Help rebuilding. For those who wish to help financially, we are hosting a silent auction with some amazing products from local farms, restaurants, etc specifically to address their most urgent item—replacing the tractor. Please sign up here so you know when we go live. If you’re more comfortable mailing a check, or would like to send a note of encouragement, you can find their mailing address here.

2. Hands-on help on the farm as urgent tasks come up and general updates about the rebuilding efforts. Sign up directly on their website to be notified.

3. Replace the seed and grain cleaner and sorter so they can process the rest of this year’s harvest and continue their grain operation.

Beans from Next Step Produce. Photo copyright Phae Photography