In October 2013, in a surreal span of mere hours, the script flipped on every facet of Matt Hulsizer’s life. With a crop in the field, the Illinois farmer faced a maelstrom of potential bankruptcy, loans, lies and the lifeless body of his father — death by suicide.
Intent on salvaging the operation from the brink of complete collapse, Hulsizer made a conscious choice to expose the skeletons of his family’s past. No more secrets or isolation.
Three years later, on a perpendicular track of pain, Hulsizer’s brother-in-law, Andrew Bowman watched his father succumb to the ravages of cancer. Projecting steel, Bowman wore a stoic mask in public. In private, he was struggling with clinical depression.
Pressure. Inner demons. Weight.
Emotionally spent and wary of the financial pitfalls ahead, the duo sought solace in each other’s counsel: The two operations became one.
THE STRESS AHEAD
Sorrow tastes the same on any tongue, but for farmers already prone to seclusion by the physical boundaries of rural life, it can be unbearable. A sputtering global economy, surging input costs and interest expenses projected to jump 40% are adding not only financial but mental stress to farmers’ outlooks this harvest season.
Health is the most important asset for any operation, and it needs to be the top priority in managing your life and farm operation, says Sean Brotherson, an Extension family life specialist at North Dakota State University.
“In times of stress, we need to depend on our health for our functionality and decision-making,” he says. “For example, we depend on our equipment in agriculture to help us do our job during key times of the year. The same is true for our health; our health helps us be resilient.”
A DEADLY DAISY CHAIN
In northwest Illinois, Hulsizer is a fifth-generation farmer. Happily married to his wife, Liz, Hulsizer’s life ticked all the standard benchmarks. However, beneath the pleasant surface, a fuse steadily burned.
“My family had a history of mental health issues and psychological abuse going back way past my dad, David, and leading directly up to him,” Hulsizer says. “I look back now, and it’s all simple to see, but hindsight is easy.”
Rewind to 2009. Incessant autumn rain, harvest in December, jammed field work and more created a total loss of control for David.
“My dad was geared to control everything,” Hulsizer explains. “But 2009 pushed things beyond his control. He secretly quit paying on two life insurance policies, and it’s evident that although he was already in a downward spiral, things were speeding up.”
Market salvation beckoned in 2010, but David was in too deep. In the next four years, corn prices reached lofty peaks of $6 to $8 per bushel. In grim irony, the commodity climb played a significant role in David’s demise.
The jump in 2012 corn prices is particularly memorable, according to Hulsizer. “My dad had already marketed two years out at $3.50 to $4, when he could have got almost $8 out of the field. Then, fertilizer prices rose big-time, and he was paying $1,100 for anhydrous with $4 corn.”
A daisy chain of mistakes and the looming specter of exposure, made David build high walls of isolation.
RIVER OVER A ROCK
On Oct. 12, 2013, Hulsizer stirred on an early Saturday morning after a previous evening cutting soybeans until 10 p.m. He answered the call of cattle chores, well aware his father was mired in a typically cross mood.
Hulsizer loaded a semi and drove to nearby bins to dump soybeans. Before leaving the farm, he removed the air filter from the combine so he could blow it out at the bin site.
Minutes later, David called Hulsizer, aiming to crank the combine and cut beans — sans filter. The phone call rapidly moved from declarative to inquisitive to accusatory.
David exploded: “He said I didn’t wake up early enough to get things lined up,” Hulsizer recalls. “There was no way to make him see truth. Basically, I walked away from a fight, and he cut beans alone that day.”
That evening, David made the final pass of his lifetime. He left the field, entered the house, and exited life by his own hand.
Beneath a cascading flood of reality, Hulsizer sucked in the grim details of the suicide, accompanied his father’s body to the funeral home, and was back at harvest an hour later. Grief was no option for a farmer with a crop in the field and an operation on the precipice of collapse.
Yet, David’s suicide spiral plunged to new depths: The truth of the operation’s demise was about to spill.
THE COLD NUMBERS
Hulsizer had always been told the family farmland and equipment were paid off. Not so. Not even close.
Two days after David’s death, the bank came calling: checking account overdrawn by $4,800. One by one, the financial bricks of a false front fell away, revealing David’s shell game.
Hulsizer and Liz had no time to grieve, as they worked livestock all day and harvested at night.
“Friends and neighbors showed up, and I remember one 200-acre field that had five combines, six grain carts, and 11 semis,” Hulsizer says. “I never would have got through it without my wife, family, friends and neighbors.”
The cold numbers dictated two options: File bankruptcy or sell every piece of machinery and farm-related stitch. Matt and Liz chose the latter. In December, he rolled all equipment off the farm and prepared to claw his way out of a deep hole of dysfunction.
What fueled his father’s collapse? Business failure, shame at dropping the ball on previous generations, or long-simmering familial dysfunction?
“All of those, plus pride,” Hulsizer says. “A lot of it was not staying within his means. Sometimes it’s as simple as, ‘Chrome doesn’t get you home.’ The truth is we all face the same things, but you can’t see the other guy’s problems below the surface.”
Indeed. Every farm has its own ghosts. Case in point: Hulsizer’s brother-in-law, Andrew Bowman, was about to run the gauntlet.
Two farmers; two sets of struggles; two heavyweight losses; two intersecting paths of life — one bond.
BURYING BUSINESS
Bowman grew up under the wing of his father, Lynn. At an early age, in addition to fieldwork, Bowman was taught management skills, supply chain flow and grain marketing, all while minding pennies toward profit.
When the day came for the farm to pass from father to son, Lynn wanted Bowman to be a business manager and financial planner. But even with all that preparation, the day came early.
In 2000, at age 47, despite no health vices, Lynn faced renal failure and a kidney transplant. Then, in 2007, he was diagnosed with multiple myeloma diagnosis — cancer of the plasma cells.
Lynn knew. Bowman knew. The entire family knew. The clock was running on a near-inevitable outcome. He was given two or three years to live.
On Sept. 11, 2016, nine years after diagnosis, Lynn succumbed to cancer at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn. Each year of the nine was a blessing, but Lynn’s departure left Bowman rudderless nonetheless.
At 30, even though supported by his wife, Karlie, Bowman was reeling: “I’d lost two weeks of the season, and now my dad was gone. No amount of preparation readies you for the loss of a mentor, colleague, friend, anchor and father. I was on shaky ground.”
Underlying everything, Bowman had been dealing with undiagnosed depression for a long time.
“I had to fight my inner demons,” he says. “I got a Christian counselor and began to sort things out. Maybe someone thinks they can handle all the pressures of farming and life without showing any cracks, but that’s a dangerous road to go down.”
BROTHERS IN FARMS
After his father’s death, Bowman was comforted by the presence of his brother-in-law and friend, Hulsizer.
“Andrew was the best man in my wedding, and he’d been there for me when my dad died,” Hulsizer says. “I was going to do the same for him, but I also could see what we needed to do on our farms. I said, ‘I think we should start farming together.’”
Bowman agreed. Brothers in farms. They took inventory of their equipment and split the acreage and fieldwork 50-50.
“I remember Matt saying, ‘We’re making old men out of ourselves,’ and we both knew we should work together instead,” Bowman recalls. “We had plenty of hiccups when we joined our operations together, but not relational hiccups. We had to get our assets in sync.
We had to nail down the division of labor. It was new and there were growing pains, but behind all that, Matt is my best friend.”
Working with family requires humility and necessitates blunt discussion, Bowman says. A spade is a spade.
“We have different skills, but we communicate,” he says. “We’re both fine with the other’s domain as long as we are accountable.”
Bowman is strategic; Hulsizer is tactical. Bowman thinks long-term; Hulsizer measures the immediate.
“We have no formal agreement and no contract, but we may do a contract as we scale,” Bowman says.
SAME STAGE, NEW ACTORS
Only a few years beyond the passing of David and Lynn, the farm stage remains the same, but the actors have changed. Hulsizer and
Bowman are keenly aware: Their stories of struggle share a common thread with many farmers grappling with the weight of family history and market vagaries, compounded by the stresses of life.
“Asking for help is not weakness,” Bowman says. “By asking for help you are making an investment in your greatest asset. No amount of capital can surpass the human capital between your ears. Your head and heart make your farm thrive. Protect them because your farm can’t be right unless you are at your best.”
“It’s OK to not be OK,” Hulsizer adds. “There’s so much help out there with someone to listen at any hour of the day. No matter what, it’s OK to walk away, no matter how many years or generations your family has been on a piece of land. Never bury yourself or your family for some dirt.”
5 Crisis Resources to Keep Close
When a crisis hits, Shannon Ferrell, Oklahoma State University agricultural law specialist, suggests having these resources handy.
- START LOCAL: Conduct a search for any in-person or telehealth mental health resources in your area.
- DIAL 211: In many areas of the country this number will enable you to access mental health resources.
- DISASTER DISTRESS: Call or text the Disaster Distress helpline at 800-985-5990 for 24/7 crisis counseling and support.
- DIAL 988: Reach the suicide and crisis lifeline hotline 24/7 at 988. Professionals are a key asset in suicidal situations, Ferrell says.
- CRISIS TEXT 24/7: Text HELLO to 741741
Daily Habits to Manage Stress on the Farm
Pick up to three simple healthy habits to do every day to help mitigate stress, suggests Sean Brotherson, North Dakota State University Extension family life specialist. Such as:
PHYSICAL
- Visit a healthcare provider. Stress can add physical challenges or worsen existing issues.
- Exercise every day; even 15 minutes is helpful.
MENTAL
- Plan regular mental breaks during the day to relax and recharge.
- Take regular five-to-10-min. breaks in your day to recharge.
EMOTIONAL
- Express “thank you” to someone daily (send a note, etc.).
- Write down three things or people you are grateful for daily.
RELATIONAL
- Social connections are important – stay connected with friends or family members.
- Learn more about your family history.
