The Hero That Sat Beside Me

It isn't every day that you meet someone who is a full-fledged hero. And by hero, I mean, someone who saves the day for someone else in a big way.

I wrote a blog yesterday and talked about a farmer that I met from Alabama. Little did I know that there was a bigger story hidden in his work-shirt pocket. I want to share this story with my family and friends who are following me on this Field Mom journey.

On Saturday, I met a man – a rancher/farmer - from Alabama, and I wrote about him in my Field Mom Journal because he has inspired me to do more research into the seafood that we buy at the super-market, a part of U.S. agriculture that we aren't going to learn about in the Field Mom program.

As he described his work, or maybe it was the way he described his work, he struck me as a person with a passion for what he does and compassion for his livestock (fish and cattle). Specifically, we were talking about the use of anti-biotics in the beef industry. He was expressing to me how important they are to bring sick cattle back to health. He expressed to me, with sincere compassion, how much he hates losing cattle when they die.

I continued to ponder the conversation and I was eager to start looking into some of the questions I now had on my mind. I started my online search by looking him up, hoping to find his farm website – I thought that would be as good a place to start as any.

What I found next was unexpected. It was a “wow” moment.

This man, Richy Naisbett, did quite a remarkable thing in October of 2005, right after Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. In an article written by Darryal Ray, on November 30, 2005, titled “Shelter From the Storm: Louisiana Cattle Find Greener Pastures in Alabama,” I discovered that Richy and two other ranchers, stepped up, in a big way, to help out Louisiana farmers and their cattle in dire need. Below are excerpts from the article.

Ray wrote,

"The bawling babies and late-night feedings were taking their toll on Richy Naisbett. One night he was up mixing formula at 1 a.m. The next, he was up until 4 a.m. Before he knew it, the nights had stretched into days and the days into weeks until...just how long had it been anyway?

Two weeks? A month?

Naisbett can't say. "I've lost track of time," he said with a sigh.
Naisbett's life as a rancher turned wet nurse has been a blur since Oct. 2, the day the truckload of refugee cattle arrived at his sprawling farm in Demopolis from the hurricane-ravaged pastures of southern Louisiana."

"This mixed bag of frightened brood cows, skinny yearlings and stressed-out baby calves bawling for their drowned or missing mothers was the first shipment of about 1,000 bovine evacuees to find safe harbor in Alabama."

The article continues,

"When a friend needs help, they just need a yes -- they don't need all the small details to go around it," said Naisbett, who led the effort to enlist Alabama farmers' help in relocating the displaced Louisiana cattle. "These cattle were dumped in my lap, and their owners know that I'm going to take care of them. They don't have to worry about it. That's helping somebody."

"I've always been the kind of person -- and it's not always a good thing -- but I never say no," said Naisbett. "...These owners were in a jam and I said, 'Just start sending them. I'll deal with them when they get here.' There was no choice -- those cattle were standing in knee-deep water, belly-deep water, nothing to eat, no fresh water to drink."

There isn't anything more I can add, except, what a remarkably good deed - monumental and exhausting, no doubt. 

When we listened to the evening news during the storms, I remember the stories of people, structures, and landscape that were reconfigured by the storms. I admit I didn't think of the farms and their livestock, needing rescue, medical treatment, and food and water. When we think of natural disaster, we immediately think about helping the humans, as we should for obvious reasons. I'm reminded, however, by an Illinois Farm Mom that the loss of a farmer's livestock can take a very devastating emotional toll on a farmer, not to mention the financial loss. The ranchers/farmers are their animal's caretakers and, while it is their business, they feel a sense of failure when an animal parishes.

I've learned that thousands of livestock were lost in those back-to-back storms because of inland flooding and salt water contamination. Even when they could evacuate animals, there was a shortage of feed. I've learned that farmers all the way up here in Illinois donated hay and truckers donated their time to get it there. It wasn't always enough fast enough.

It's not unusual for farmers to step up and help each other at a moment's notice. Neighbors help neighbors every day. They are a community. They communicate, they keep in touch, and when something adverse happens to one of them, the phone lines start lighting up to find out what needs to be done. They don't consider themselves heroes. In fact, if asked, they'd say that's just a part of how we roll, it's not a big deal or heroic, it's just work that needs to be done. If the roles were reversed, the story would look the same. 

Good people and a fine example of life as a farmer.