Fourth-generation Central Whidbey farmer Georgie Smith with some of her produce.
The drive to get fourth-generation Central Whidbey farmer Georgie Smith and her family back on their feet after the loss of the Smith Barn continues to build.
The 1880s era barn, which was the hub of Willowood Farm, burnt to the ground Monday night. Losses included all of Smith’s seed for the 2017 growing season.
A GoFundMe set up by family friends — https://www.gofundme.com/never-finished-farming-smith-barn — has raised $42,000 and counting, and now you can donate locally, as well.
People’s Bank (behind the Coupeville Country Store) has an account set up under the “Smith Family Benefit Account.”
Donations can be done in person or mailed to:
People’s Bank
107 S Main St., #101
Coupeville, WA 98239
As she faces the road ahead, Georgie wrote the following:
Well, that happened. Today, come the tears.
Thank you to everybody for your kind words.
I am SO thankful that nobody was harmed in the fire. And no pets either (other than we might have lost some irascible “barn chickens” that had insisted on roosting in there, at apparently, their risk!).
And then my husband dislocated his shoulder running out the door when he saw it, and tripped over a flowerbed.
He thought my parent’s house was on fire too, luckily not.
And, once the ER docs got his shoulder back in its socket, he was sent home with a sling and instructions to be careful and should heal it fine. So that is good.
And I’m thankful it didn’t affect my parent’s house, which certainly it could have if the wind had been blowing.
And so thankful for the Whidbey Island Firefighters who have been out there all night, letting the final stuff burn down.
Strange thing, this morning, seeing the field behind where the barn had been from my house. First time I’ve ever seen that.
I haven’t heard any thoughts of what caused it. But to honest, I haven’t been brave enough to go down there and talk to the firefighters either.
I heard that it did burn hot enough to show up on the weather radar, that’s wild. I wonder if they will ever know.
It could have been a number of things but whatever it was, it went fast.
My crew was in there to almost dusk, working on some projects.
Meanwhile, my neighbor was jogging by the farm, must have been just a bit past that as he could see some smoke, figured we were burning some trash.
By the time he got to our driveway, he heard several explosions; probably some flames had reached a tractor and a gas tank. He sprinted for the phone and 911 but it was too late.
What happens now?
I have to honest, I’d like to shout and shake my first and say “we will build again!”
But at this moment, I rightly don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll farm again.
I have to be honest about that right now for those of you so kindly supporting me.
Farming is a BITCH. We suffered greatly in 2015 and I thought about throwing in the towel then, but persevered by the skin of my teeth, had a much better year in 2016 and was posed this year to make some great gains … finally.
Then this.
Ironically, I was just in the process of applying for a Farm Services collateral loan against my equipment – I finally had enough paid off to be of value – to get a low interest credit line for the season and put myself in much better shape financially going forward.
That option is now … gone. Even my delivery van, which I had just paid off, burned up.
I doubt we will get much from insurance. The barn was not insured for much, how to value it? And when we put in our insurance, we focused on the homes not the barn.
Perhaps not the best call in hindsight. Lol.
And much of my older equipment was not insured either. 1950s tractors were of great use and value to us, but not much to the insurance agent.
And all the myriad other things. Like the two walk-ins we had – both built over the years from, literally, scraps and giveaways and sweat and tears. If I purchased/built those new they’d probably run me $10,000 or more each.
And then of course, I had debt.
Which now I have no way to service with no foreseeable income coming in.
How does one even pick the vegetables we have? I don’t have a single lug to put it in, a washing area, boxes or a vehicle to deliver it.
Heck, even our harvest knives burned up.
And that’s not counting the investment going forward into THIS year’s crops.
Unless they somehow survived in their refrigerator storage areas in the barn, all my 2017 seed is gone. Including several 1000s of lbs of dry beans.
Roughly figured, it would take around $200,000 to get me even, with debt and to replace all the equipment and things we had. And that ISN’T counting a barn space.
On a positive note…the garlic was planted in the field so it is fine! Oy.
The barn was the hub, the nexus, of all farming operations. Without it, hard to imagine.
Where to store equipment and work on it (that we don’t have). Where to pack the food? Where to store all the stuff?
Do I want to take all this risk again? Sitting here right now, that sounds like a pretty stupid thing to do.
Farming … has not been an easy row to hoe financially, at all.
I have no retirement or savings, it’s all gone into the farm over the years.
Can I put my family at risk, on the financial teeter-totter of farming, for this, again?
But then again, I don’t know what to do if I DON’T farm. I’ve thought about that in the past, if I ever decided to quit.
Who hires a 45-year-old farmer who is used to setting her own schedule, is overly dirty, and doesn’t really deal well with bureaucracy?
And then just the emotional loss.
I feel so bad for my father. How much of his life work just burned up. Just gone.
The barn he had fixed and repaired so many times. The equipment. Over the winter he had replaced the gas engine on one of our old tractors with a new diesel motor. He was so proud of it.
Just yesterday, I took a photo of him spray-painting one of our other tractors in the barn. It makes me sick.
And the history. All the history.
I’ve always loved to share our farm and barn with visitors.
We just had a garage sale in there last weekend and I spent quite a bit of time sharing the story of the barn with visitors. It was one-of-a-kind.
And I know how much the barn and our farm means to this community. Right now I feel like I’ve failed the community.
What could I have done to prevent this? There were a million stupid things I can think of right now that could have caused it.
I know this is defeatist thoughts. But they are there right now, I can’t deny them.
To my community and the many who have sent well wishes, and money. Thank you. I’m so sorry this has happened on so many levels.
If you want to support us financially, I certainly won’t say no because I think we will need every little bit to even stay afloat right now as a family.
What will we do going forward … I don’t know. It’s too early to say.
I have to have a serious discussion with my family about it.
But I can tell you, it means the world to me that you are willing to support me though.
So again, thank you.
Love you all,
Farmer Georgie
Willowood Farm of Ebey’s Prairie
