This iss-js cf The Sower lcc!a t fct Cs.-r.pu3, the treed bssktt cfthe university
and the state.
Ca the cover, phctcrc-hirjcel Srrtsre cspftsrss I'M senior Ccb Daer , ci rj
major, sitting stop a pLzstlc horse practicing hte calf rcpLrj sM2s In the Esst
Css:; uf Livestock Jaglsj Pr,vi!'ca.
On Pee 2, Judi Nygren reports ca the 3 esrcILstnt drop caused by the farm
crisis.
Ana Lov.e writes about the end of sa era ca pre 3, o a record nisrJber of 23
professors prepare to retire sad 3 school administrators scnunlle to find
replacements.
Oa Psges 4 and 5, Kevin Warr.eke travels to Franklin, Neb., to see how small
businesses are surviving after farm foreclosures and decreasing 3 prices.
Lisa Nuttir.g investigates the secret of FgnaKouse fraternity on Page 6. The
fraternity has maintained the highest Greek Grade Point Average at UNL for almost
74 years.
On Page 7, Ward W. Triplet! III asks a recent UNL eradiate, who b now practicing
veterinary medicine in Lincoln, s&out the university's need for a vet school.
Finally, Michelle Esbik reports oa the UNL Dairy Store's efforts to help state
industries test products.
as crisis Mis university
Tl
Joel Sartorerhe Sower
lent Andersen holds one of 11 pifets from a litter he's raising.
JLL or almost 22 years, Kent Andersen has lived on his family's
farm 18 miles northwest of Lexington, working the 300 acres of
land and helping his dad nurture piglets to their 250-pound
slaughter weight.
Having grown up on the farm, the UNL animal science major said
farming is "pretty much inherent" to him. It is a good life, he said,
a life he someday hopes to return to.
But as a senior, Andersen said, he may be forced to give up his
dream of returning to the family farm. Leaning back in a chair, he
crosses his leg and reveals chunks of mud on his cowboy boots.
Andersen talks casually about the farm crises and the financial
strife it has created for his family.
Like many of his Lexington neighbors, Andersen and his family
fight high debts, low land values and poor market prices. Some of
the neighbors, however, have lost the battle and that worries
Andersen, he said
"It can sneak up on people and really take them by surprise," he
said. "I guess I'm just prepering myself in case we'd ever lose the
farm."
The Andersen's are not alone. The farm crises has grown to such
proportions that it has spread from farm communities, such as
Lexington, to almost all sectors of the state. Finally the crisis has hit
UNL's College of Agriculture.
T.E. Hartung, dean of the ag college, and Leslie Sheffield,
II
Efitor: Vdten:
Vldd Ruhga Bob Asmussen
Mkklk KM
rhctcrcphcrs: Ann Lowe
Dave Creamer Lisa Nutting
Mark Davis Judi Nygren
Joel Sartore Jonathan Taylor
Ward W. Triplett III
Art: Kevin I'ameke
Tony Schappaugh
Tyjesetc-:
Earb Eranda
Karen Howard
Katherine Foii&y
Tne Sower magazine is published by the UNL Publications Board once each
month, spring semester 1 935. Daily Nebraskan, 34 Nebraska Union, 1 400
R Street, tola, NS 63583-048S (402) 472-2583.
associate professor of agricultural economics, say many of the
college's problems are caused by the farm crisis.
One such problem, Hartung said, is a "sharp" decline in the
college's enrollment. According to records from the ag college,
enrollment dropped from 1,719 students in 1983 to 1,574 in 1984.
From 1980 to 1982, enrollment ranged from 1,889 to 1,864.
Hartung said the drop occurred because fewer farm students can
afford college, and those who can often choose other careers, such
as engineering and medicine.
This decline did not take the college by surprise, Hartung said.
Nationally, enrollment in ag colleges began to drop in 1978. Based
on this trend, he said, administrators expected an eventual decline
at UNL
"We just didn't feel it would be so sharp," he said.
Sheffield predicts enrollment will continue to decline over the
next few years. Farm families who three years ago were "well-to-do,
even to the point of being millionaires" are now struggling,
Sheffield said. This often means farm children who would have
gone to UNL no longer can, he said
The decline in enrollment goes beyond mere figures. Sheffield
said fewer students translate into fewer dollars for teachers and
research.
"We're going through a down cycle," he said. "This means some
level of stress for the university ... and it requires special
attention."
Hartung's explanation differs from Sheffield's. Hartung said
agriculture's strifes have meant less state funding for the college.
As a result, he said, three teaching positions have not been filled
and will remain empty indefinitely.
"It's a short-term readjustment," he said.
These enrollment and financial reports appear bleak, but
Hartung said, they overlook one thing agriculture's bright
future.
"Nebraska's agriculture is very dynamic," Hartung said. "We're
paying an adjustment price now, but we'll rebound. Nebraska has
staying power."
The tare, as seen by Hartung, includes a diverse agriculture
community based on high technology and strong agri-business.
These togs, coupled with Nebraska's resources, will give the
state's farmers a competitive edge, he said.
While Sheffield agrees that the future holds great possibilities in
agri-business, his views on farming are less promising. Nebraska
may return to a farm era of "either you inherit it (farm) or marry
it," he said
For graduates of the ag college, these differing views mean an
uncertain future.
in Hartung's world, graduates who want to farm or ranch in
1931, this included 22 percent of all graduates will have little
trouble breaking out on their own. It will only be a matter of
getting financial backing, he said.
"With the low land values," Hartung said, "this could possibly
be the best time to buy."
In Sheffield's world, however, graduates have few financial
sources. It is tough to get started because banks are reluctant to
lend money to young farmers.
This differs from the "old days," Sheffield said, when banks
allowed farmers 70 to 80 percent leverage amount borrowed
vs. assets. With 70 to 80 percent leverage, farmers needed only
$20,000 to $30,000 for a down payment on a quarter section
valued at $100,000. Today if young farmers borrow this amount,
he said, their cash flow will have to be consistently high and "they
can't depend on that."
While Hartung's and Sheffield's farm worlds differ, both agree
agri-business has a future. Hartung said that with 30 percent of the
United States' business and Industry related to agriculture, agri
business has great potential.
However, Sheffield said, this does not necessarily mean the jobs j
are in Nebraska. According to a Federal Reserve Bank in Kansas j
City, 32 percent of Nebraska's agri-businesses are in financial j
trouble. 1
Hartung and Sheffield are not alone in their predictions.
Because many experts think agri-business is the way of the future,
the ag college, now under curriculum review, will place more
emphasis on agri-business. Hartung said this emphasis will not
include changes in the number of classes offered in either j
production or agri-business. It will be a shift in attitude. The
college will encourage a broad range of courses and make students
more aware of all the options in agriculture, he said
With a broad curriculum base, Hartung said, students will be
able to apply science, economics and people skills to agriculture.
This will prepare students for "lifelong" success, he said,
Two agriculture students already have adopted this new
attitude. Andersen and Wayne Schold. a sophomore ag economics
major, plan to return to the farm, but not without a broad j
education to fall back oa j
Andersen said he wants to return to the family farm to "fulfill j
my livelihood." However, he may get a master's or doctorate 1
degree before returning. I
"It's getting harder and harder to make a living just farming,' f
Andersen said. "I might have to farm and do something else."
"Something else," he said, could be anything from consultant to 1
feed work. But he won't limit himself to one area yet
Like Andersen, Schold also wants to finish school before return-
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"Farming is wh;t I've feys wanted to do," Schold said. "If you
can make a living at it, it's a pod LVr.g."
But because the farmers in Oakland are "pinching pennies,"
Schold said, he needs an education as insurance. J
"If you're going to return to the farm, the only way to survive j
now is through better management," he said "But if farming
doesn't work out, I'll have other areas to go to." Jssfi N)0 !