A Voyage of Discovery: Betsy and Bubba on the Road

Monday, March 6, dawned crisp and clear, and relatively calm after several frigid windblown nights on the top of the hill at Overlook Farm. After a Sunday back in Rhode Island, I’d returned in the evening and moved back into the host apartment. I’d luxuriated in a night without a cold rush across the parking lot to a bathroom, and waking to an unfrozen dog water dish. Even my 2AM check of the pregnant nannies had seemed balmy. I left the host apartment in the Center about 20 after 6, and stopped for a moment to enjoy the early morning sights and sounds of the barnyard. I set out down the drive with Bubba and Dzo, the farm dog, for a stroll and to fetch the morning paper. Our morning walk was cut short when an emergency vehicle sped past us up the farm drive, lights flashing. I ran back up the drive with the dogs; in the 20 minutes I’d been gone, the apparent tranquility of the farmscape had been transformed into a nightmare. The rear of the barn was engulfed in flames, and thick black smoke blew across the paddocks toward the south.

Throughout the night before, volunteers had checked on the pregnant goats and the new born kids. At the 6:00 AM check, there was no sign of fire and all was quiet. At 6:30, a smoke detector in the barn apartment alerted Berta, the livestock assistant, who called the Fire Department and began to fight the fire. When it was apparent that the fire was out of control, Dale Perkins the Farm manager, organized the residential volunteers to get the livestock out safely.

Within minutes, fire crews from Rutland were joined by trucks from Hubbardston, Princeton and Holden. Hose lines were laid from the pond at neighboring Overlook Services and run up the drive.

Since I arrived as a residential volunteer on the first of February, I’d been impressed by the maturity and dedication of the young people working here in the farm. What I witnessed that morning, though, was closer to heroic. Volunteers calmly moved the large livestock out into the fields, and returned time and again, carrying out the smaller animals, and salvaging tools and equipment while the firefighters played their hoses on the building. Many of these young people were still in their pajamas and barefoot, thinking only of how to rescue the animals they cared for on a daily basis. They wrapped day-old kids in towels and stuffed them in their sweatshirts. As the firefighters brought the blaze under control, the volunteers assured the safety of the livestock, and only then took the time to comfort and support one another. The firefighters, who were a wonderful group as well, pitched in with the volunteers, carrying chickens from the burning building.

By 10:00, the blaze was out, and Dale and the volunteers took stock of the losses. We lost Belle, one of the nanny goats who’d just delivered, and nine newborn kids. We were not able to rescue chicks we’d just received from the hatchery, and we lost a chicken and a duck. Miraculously, through the teamwork, dedication and courage of staff and volunteers, more than 80 large animals were unscathed, and the barnyard was full of chickens, roosters, ducks and geese, apparently unaware of a change in their daily routine. We gingerly moved through the smoldering ruins, pulling out what we could salvage of tools and equipment before the wreckers arrived.

In the early afternoon, apparent normalcy had returned to the farm but the faces of our young volunteers bore witness to the stresses of the day. For many, I suspect, this was their first experience with trauma and loss. They walked with dignity and courage through a difficult time.

I was particularly proud and honored to be a Heifer volunteer this day. The volunteers and staff at Overlook Farm and in the Northeast Regional Office have built a community of commitment, compassion, and skill. The entire local community has embraced this organization, and we have been inundated with calls and visits offering assistance, from sheltering livestock to bringing towels and blankets for newborn livestock to school groups’ offerings of coins they’ve collected to help rebuild the barn. Today, a young sister and brother brought in $78 they’d earned at a lemonade stand to raise money for a new barn–and you know for sure that, in March, folks weren’t just hankering for lemonade, they wanted any way they could help.

It struck me Monday evening that what I had seen was a microcosm of what Heifer does on a daily basis, building community in more than 125 countries around the world. It is a privilege to be associated with these people and this organization.

I hope that you’ll join me in helping to rebuild the barn. If you can please send a tax-deductible contribution to Heifer International
216 Wachusett St.
Rutland, MA 01543.
Please indicate that your donation is for the Overlook Farm Capital Fund.
Or you can go to the Heifer website and give there. Thanks to all of you who heard about the fire and called or wrote to see if we are all safe and well.

At a time when we are beginning to be ready for the signs of spring, the weather here has been brutally cold. I would be looking for my conventional signs of spring in Newport: the snowdrops blooming in the yard in early February, the green leaves of daffs and crocuses poking up through the grey crusty stuff that pretends to be a snowy winter along the New England coast. Here, there’s no pretense. Last Monday, the temperature was below zero, and the wind on the hilltop clearing that is Overlook Farm was blowing steadily through the van. Bubba’s water dish on the floor when I got up was solid ice, not just a skim coat.

And this was the day that spring births began.

The first to go were the two “Little Bits”. They are Nigerian Dwarf goats, mother and daughter. Mother was the first in labor, beginning at about 6:30 AM. I was headed back to RI for an overnight, including scheduled items like a last checkup while I’m still on insurance. I found myself pushing, memories of my own “kids” being born, and hoped for her to move the process along before I had to hit the road. Alas, things did not move fast enough, and I headed off down the highway, through morning rush hour in downtown rural Holden, MA, in order to make A 9:30 appointment.
When I returned on Tuesday at noon, she had given birth to four little kids. I’ve learned that two, or perhaps three, is normal for a nanny. In fact, Little Bit 1 had five, one stillborn, an amazing feat for a tiny little animal, about Bubba’s size.

On Tuesday afternoon, the women participating in the goat birthing program arrived. Heifer has had such a huge demand from women interested in participating in the Women’s Lambing Experience, the program I participated in last spring, that they developed an option this year. After reflection, they decided that calling it goat-kidding just wasnt going to work, sounded just a little too much like a joke, so it was to be the Goat birthing and maple sugaring program. We toyed with the idea of saying, if none were born, “Oh, just kidding!”

Not all of the forces of nature aligned to make the sugaring happen. For instance, warm days, in the thirties, and freezing nights are required to get the sap flowing in the maple trees. We had nothing but warm days for most of January, and have had nothing but days below freezing for weeks now. The trees have been tapped but there’s nothing to show for it yet. Overlook Farm makes syrup more as a demonstration of sustainable agriculture, not really enough to sell, but many of the farmers here really depend on sugaring for their income. This season is expected to be undependable economically.

The birth cycle is undependably dependable. No one knows when they will deliver. Oreo was expected to deliver three days ago and we’re still waiting, conjecture is that she’ll go tonight. The fourteen women here for the program were able to participate in two other births: two kids born to Little Bit 2, and three kids born to Belle. These included a number of complications; a woman participating in the program pulled one of the kids that was stuck in labor; several of the babies were initially ignored by Belle, and, as their body temperatures dropped, they were bottle fed by the women in the program.

By the time the women here for the program left on Friday, there were 9 little ones. The women were as energized by their experience as I was when I departed last April, feeling that this had been a life-changing experience.

Now we’re back to night watches, those of us who are volunteers, signing up for hours in the cold waiting for this unique miracle of being part of the beginning of a new life.