Is there any cranes or anything over here?
I have not this morning so far.
One of the interesting things that I experienced as a kid
was my father was one who was curious
about a lot of things.
Especially was he curious about the out-of-doors.
And his way of showing me the out-of-doors
with me and we're going to take a walk today.
And these walks happen generally on Sunday afternoons
because we were farm people and there was farm work to do all week long.
And we would check the old crop and the corn crop and the hay crop
and we would check as to whether or not the cows had enough to eat
for the next while in the pasture.
We would walk slowly and we would keep our mouths shut.
My dad was a stickler for walking slowly
and quietly.
He said, what you need to do
if you really want to understand nature
is not pay so much attention to what everybody else pays attention to
to the loud noises and the stuff that's easily seen.
He said, learn how to listen for the whispers.
Listen for what is not ordinarily heard.
And the second thing he said, don't just look
with the bright light shines.
Learn to look in the shadows.
Because it's in the shadows that there's a whole other world.
Learn to look in the shadows
and listen for the whispers.
Because the extent to which you do that
is the extent to which you will come to know nature
and know it deeply, know
far more important than simply becoming acquainted with.
Further, whether it's an old barn, a field of corn
or an oak woods, the extent to which you know it
is the extent to which you will take care of it.
That's a powerful message, and I've never forgotten that.
The Land with Jerry Apps was funded in part by
Holiday Vacations.
Ron and Colleen Wires.
Stanley J. Cottrell Fund.
Carol Gaynor.
And the National Endowment for the Humanities.
Explore new worlds and new ideas
through programs like this
made available for everyone
through contributions to your PBS station
from viewers like you.
Thank you.
Where's your seat?
Are you in two rows?
What?
What grandpa tell you what to do?
It's really down low.
We're gonna...
We're gonna...
Yeah, don't mess with the leather shirt.
We're gonna do an onion suit there.
Start with that.
Each take a handful.
That's good.
Alright, so why don't one of you go down one row
and one of you go down the other row?
And find them a little closer together
and there's a thing in the boat like that.
This, okay.
Yeah.
So we're gonna go in that row bend over there.
My earliest memories up here
are actually playing the garden
and taking Gatorades
and walking around up here
learning about stuff that I didn't really know just before
back in my own house.
About different trees,
about seeing a caterpillar,
wondering what it's doing,
wondering where it's going,
how it is related to everything else around it.
Back when my grandfather was young,
everybody was on farms and now, essentially,
like, less than 5%, 2%,
and not as many people are as intertwined
with nature as back then.
My dad's knowledge of nature
was something I think that was just a part of him.
I've never been able to figure out
really why he had this interest other than,
he was a farmer,
he had limited formal education, fifth grade.
Something else he always said.
Just because you have a lot of education doesn't mean you know anything.
He told me that often.
He told me, as the years went along,
he kept telling me that.
You see, we're on the maple right there.
See that?
He wanted to share what he knew.
And his way of sharing was to show me.
And he would quiz me all the time.
What kind of a tree is that?
I just told you last week that it's a black hole.
Remember this, it's a black hole.
And what's a black hole good for?
I don't know what a black hole is.
It's good for firewood.
It's good for lumber.
Oh, really?
And we did that again and again.
Okay, you guys.
This is a quiz now.
It's all right behind you.
Why is that little tree right there?
Is that an oak?
No.
It's an aspen.
It's a black cherry.
Oh, the black cherry.
You know for you.
You could just tell by looking at it.
I'm not so good at the trees.
Birch is the one I can tell.
But besides that, it's pretty hard for me to do that.
But yeah, it's good.
I like the quizzes.
It keeps me on my toes.
With my age and my group, I mean, if we want to know something,
we can just, you know, Google it.
And so I think a lot of times we have all this information yet
with all the trees and getting to hear the sounds of the water
and the sounds of these crackling and the sound of the wind.
You don't get that when you're just at home in front of your computer
for the TV.
What's interesting about the olds, and this is an old thing
that my dad taught me.
When the oak leaf is the size of a squirrel's ear.
You know the size of a squirrel's ear?
Then it's time to plant your corn.
Oh, okay.
Yeah.
So you check.
First off, you have to know the size of a squirrel's ear.
Yeah.
That's if you don't know that.
It's pretty small.
You don't know that you're lost.
But you check the oak tree.
You put that bigger on.
That's the time to plant your corn.
Yeah, and that's really kind of interesting because my dad
never paid any attention to the calendar.
See the maples?
Yeah, you can see the red on the maples.
Those maples now are in early spring bloom.
That's the red that you see.
That's really a flower.
The maple flower comes out first.
I'm just really curious about biology in general and about how
the biology of life works.
It's all very interesting to me.
It goes back to the curiosity of what my grandfather was talking
about with his dad.
He just loved to sit under a tree and listen to it talk to you.
Because every tree, just like the land has a message that it
wants you to hear, a tree talks to you in a language of the
tree, but it's speaking.
And the red pine and the white pine and the aspen each speak
differently.
The aspen is all excited in the leaves, flutter.
And the white pine has a soothing, quiet message.
These are the sorts of lessons that he taught.
He didn't call them lessons.
This pond has a pair of yeast nesting on it, somewhere.
In fact, it was a nest right over here at one time, but it may
have flooded out when the water came up.
I think my favorite part is usually like the ponds area.
I always remember coming down to the ponds because that's where
all the wildlife gathers.
That's where everything comes together.
And I think I enjoy just kind of sitting near the pond and
listening to you have birds meet there.
You have little frogs.
You have every once in a while.
You can see the fish swimming through.
I hope that it can be like this, like for my kids and my
grandkids because I mean that everything is evolved and
intertwined with nature.
So I think it's not as high priority as it should be.
Do geese just pair?
Are they just pairs when they come in nest or do they have
lots of geese?
You know, it's interesting about Canada geese that a lot of
people understand.
They pair for life.
Really?
Yep.
They're monogamous.
They're really interesting in that respect, different from
ducks.
And one of the things that I still enjoy very much is the
geese coming and going.
I know everything is right with the world.
When the geese are flying in the spring, flying south
and the fall.
When they quit flying, they like the canary in the
mine, I think.
If we don't see the geese flying north and south, that's
something that's wrong with the environment.
Out here, I tell you, I really enjoy them because sometimes
if you come down here on this pond, it just sits for an hour.
And you hear them talking to each other.
The pair.
I don't want to talk about.
I suspect they're worried about if eggs are going to hatch
and all that sort of thing.
But they do.
How's your summer, Mabel?
Well, it's pretty good.
How about yours, John?
That's what I think they were saying.
I don't know what they were saying.
How are the young ones?
You always have stories to tell.
He always talks about how different animals are communicating
in different ways, how they have their own little
conversations going on, how they're always thinking about
what they're going to do and how their home life is.
Similar names, but different species.
I go to James Madison Memorial High School, and when I say that
I'm going up to a farm, they don't really know what that means
generally.
They just think I'm going to go camping in some campsite, but
now I'm just learning about outdoors.
It's almost an infinite amount of knowledge that you can actually
get from nature just by walking around out here.
This very patch of ground is 10,000 years old.
How do I know that?
That's when the last glacier retreated, and we happen to be
standing on the terminal marine, the end of the glacier.
That's why it's so hilly, and there are a lot of stones here,
and the ponds were big chunks of ice left over from the glacier
and when the ice melted, it dropped down, and that formed the
ponds.
Well, the history of this place now.
10,000 years ago, there was nothing here.
The glacier, it's creeped everything.
There are no trees, nothing.
And then, I don't know how many thousands of years ago, the
Native Americans came into this country, and many, many years
later, this was still a nominee Indian country.
The monomonies traveled from their trapping grounds in
Adams County through this very land, right here, to Berlin,
which is on the Fox River where there was a training post.
And they camped.
I suspect right up in here.
Now, one of the stories that I learned, the person who owned
this place ahead of us, the Combses, Mrs. Combs was in her
80s when I was probably 16, and I would come down here, and she
would tell me stories about how the monomonies would travel
through here and would come up to the house and trade maple
syrup and maple sugar for salt, because they were always
always short of salt.
And I thought, I thought she was just telling me a story.
I really did.
And then when I did some historical digging on this property and
looked at the first survey map, which was drawn in 1851,
a squiggly little line, and the surveyor had written Indian
trail.
Right through here?
Yeah.
I mean, it's unbelievable how she was not spoofing me at all.
She was telling me, which I remember as a little girl.
Every piece of land has a story to tell.
You just got to know how to look for it.
The story is in the trees.
The story is in the land.
The story is in where these two ponds maybe went together.
And it's such fun to stand and wonder, what's this land trying
to tell me?
And sometimes you come up with exactly the wrong answer,
but it gives you a starting place.
And that's why it's kind of fun.
We've kind of learned how to listen.
We don't know how to listen to the land.
Sounds a little corny, but that's what we have to do.
And that smells good.
Burs?
Oh, yeah.
Hi, I'm John Moskowski, and we're watching the land,
this wonderful public television documentary with Jerry Apps.
And I'm here with Jerry Apps.
Jerry, could you tell us a little bit about the inspiration for
the book that then inspired this work?
No, it comes from my father, John.
He was one who believed that we ought to look in places where
other people don't look when we go on a walk.
And we did a lot of walks in the country.
And he also said that we should listen to things that people
don't ordinarily hear.
We should listen for the whispers.
So look in the shadows and listen to the whispers.
That's the inspiration for the book, inspiration for the TV show.
Another program on public television is the third from Jerry Apps,
possible because of viewer support, possible because of your
support.
We ask you to go to the phone now and call with your pledge to
make these great programs possible.
Hi, I'm Stephanie Alkins.
I'm one of the music hosts on Wisconsin Public Radio.
And what a wonderful program this is tonight.
So many people in Wisconsin have either grown up on a farm or
have friends and neighbors that are on a farm.
And we can relate to this kind of wonderful program.
And we're asking for your support of Wisconsin Public Television,
your support of this program.
And when you make a gift in the amount of $6 a month or $72 a
month or more, we'll send you the DVD that you're watching
right now, The Land with Jerry Apps.
And it's meaningful and wonderful and you'll be able to watch
it and share it.
And for a gift of $15 a month or $180 as a one-time gift,
we have a wonderful bundle for you.
It includes the book that inspired the DVD that you're
watching right now, Whispers and Shadows, as Jerry just mentioned,
a naturalist's memoir.
And it also includes not just the land that you're seeing tonight,
but also a farm winter and a farm story,
all three hours of wonderful storytelling and imagery of
Wisconsin farm life from the 30s and the 40s and great stories.
And it's yours for a pledge of $15 a month or $180.
Make your pledge right now at the number that is on your screen.
I'm Kerman Eckes and I'm so happy to be here with you this evening
during this presentation of The Land with Jerry Apps.
You know, Jerry is a wonderful treasure.
He has that way of preserving stories and the memories of people
and of the environment around him and presenting it in a way that
resonates with all of us.
When you call the number on your screen, you talk to one of your
volunteers and show your support for your local PBS station.
You're truly helping to bring shows like Jerry Apps and all of
the wonderful programming that you'll see on your local PBS station.
That's because of you, because of your support.
And it starts with one phone call, one at a time, one person
stepping forward and saying, yes, I'm willing to do this.
Because of that, we're able to continue to bring you great shows like this.
So please take the time now to call the number on your screen.
We're watching The Land with Jerry Apps and we'll be back to that
program in a minute as we explore these issues of land and the environment.
And as you do with your grandsons, Jerry, you and Ruth are generous
supporters of public television.
We have done that for years and we will continue to do that because
my wife and I know the power of public television.
We know that the programs are authentic.
They are interesting. They're inspiring.
And well, what more can I say?
Those are reasons that we have contributed and will continue to do so.
And we know that from people who tell us to watch the show,
and they watch it together and they watch it with their family.
They get the DVDs and they watch it with their grandchildren.
What an amazing, wonderful thing.
Well, thank you for that and thank you for supporting public television
with your contributions makes these programs possible.
And when you make a pledge of support right now,
we're going to send you the DVD that you're watching.
It is marvelous and it's one that you're going to want to share with your family
and your friends.
It's one that children can relate to.
It's one that all of us can relate to.
The land and that's available for your pledge of $6 a month or more
or a one-time pledge of $72 by calling the number on your screen.
And for a really special thank you gift,
we would love to send you a bundle that includes a book called
Wispers and Shadows.
That's the one that Jerry was just talking about.
The inspiration for the program that you're watching right now
full of great observations about nature and stories about walking.
And we also have the DVD that you're watching right now,
The Land and One of A Farm Winter.
And then the one that started it all,
A Farm Story with Jerry Apps.
This kind of programming is really meaningful.
The book is marvelous.
And Jerry mentioned that he's been keeping a journal since he was a boy
and he's got that eye.
It's really special.
Make a pledge of support by calling the number on your screen right now.
And thank you.
You know, one thing that the land celebrates,
and again, a theme that we've heard over and over in this presentation
is that idea of curiosity.
You think about Jerry talking about learning from his father
and from the people around him and how his father shared
by showing things to him.
Or even think about Jerry's grandson Ben who said that he's discovered
that there's an infinite amount of knowledge out in nature.
Always something new to discover.
It's kind of like that on PBS.
There's always something here for everybody on your local PBS station.
Whether it's a special presentation like The Land with Jerry Apps
or the shows that you come to know and love every week,
Nova, Masterpiece, Nature.
Many, many different shows, a little bit of something for everyone.
You can help support that quality programming
by calling the number on your screen.
And with your gift of $15 a month,
you can receive all three documentaries
that we've been talking about with Jerry Apps
about growing up on the farm on the 40s and the 50s
and the book Whispers and Shadows.
Jerry, we were driving together a little back
and your phone started to dang and it dinged and it danged.
And you said, oh, somebody is showing one of my shows
because you get this wonderful messages from people all over the country.
It's the truth.
And that's how I could tell where the show was being aired
from the emails that I was getting.
And I would get a bunch from California
and then I would get some from North Carolina.
I'd get some from Minnesota, from Alaska, all over.
And I was so humbled to realize that people across the country,
and Canada, a lot of response from Canada,
were interested in what farm life was all about.
And I think it's because Jerry, you share their story
that you bring it together.
People see so much in their own lives in these stories.
And as we'll talk with you later about how this has inspired people
to share it with their family, just as we're seeing in the land,
as you share it with your grandchildren, which is really wonderful.
Thanks for your call and support.
And when you support this program right now,
we have a wonderful thank you gift for you.
We'd love to send you the DVD of the program that you're watching,
The Land with Jerry Apps.
That's available for your pledge of $6 a month
or $72 all at once.
And we have a wonderful collection of all of Jerry's DVDs,
plus the book that inspired the one that you're watching right now.
Those are available for a pledge of $15 a month
or $180 all at once.
And that includes a farm story.
That's the one that started it all.
It includes The Land that you're watching right now.
And it also includes a farm winter.
That's part of the bundle that you'll get
when you make a pledge of support at the number on your screen.
Thank you.
You know, one theme that we've heard over and over in this program
is the idea of sustaining and preserving and conserving,
whether it's The Land, whether that's keeping the memories alive
of the people and their stories.
That's something that's been a theme all the way throughout The Land
with Jerry Apps.
And of course, we're able to bring this because of people like you
who say, my PBS station is important to me.
It's something that I want to help sustain in my community
and for people all around me.
And of course, that starts with you coming forward
with an ongoing monthly contribution
and helping to preserve the wonderful stories
that are being told and presented on your local PBS station.
Great way to do that is by becoming a sustaining member
of your local station.
It's an easy way for you to make an ongoing monthly contribution
to your station.
So if that's something you're interested in,
call the number on your screen and talk to one of the volunteers now.
It's been really rewarding to work with Jerry Apps
on these public television documentaries
that we have presented to you over the last few years,
including this program, The Land.
It's been especially rewarding because of the comments
from people all over the country sharing how much this story,
how much his stories meant to them,
and how it's inspired them to share their story,
to talk to their children, to talk to their grandchildren,
to write down their stories.
These kinds of things are possible because of public television,
and it's possible because you support it with your dollars.
So we encourage you to go to the phone now,
make your pledge of support, make stories like this possible
on your public television station.
A black-eyed Susan in full bloom.
See that right there?
Isn't that a beautiful wildflower?
Yeah, it is.
Black-eyed Susan.
Your mother's name is Susan,
and she always calls these black-eyed Susies.
It's just kind of a cute flower.
All right, on to the black-eared.
Growing a crop, you do that in terms of the seasons.
There's a planting season, it's a growing season,
it's a harvesting season.
There's a planting season, and then you do it over again.
It's a yearly cycle.
But growing a piece of land is not a yearly cycle.
It's a multiple-year cycle.
And it probably goes in circles.
I don't know what that circle is.
I don't know where we are on this property
after 40 years.
I don't know if that's the beginning.
If that's in the middle, it's a half-way hill.
I don't know that, and I don't care.
My grandkids, they'll have to come along after me
and then ask the same questions.
Where are we in that cycle?
And if they're smart about it, they would say,
but it really doesn't matter.
This is a very interesting piece of history for this farm,
this hump of dirt.
People say, what is that hump?
Well, in the 1930s, this entire area was plowed
and planted to crops.
And during the time of the Dust Bowl,
in states like Oklahoma and Kansas,
people don't realize that we also had
a very severe Dust Bowl here in Central Wisconsin.
I remember as a kid,
the clouds of dust just boiling up out of the West,
and our home farm was only a couple miles from here.
And the dust was so thick that when the sun went down
in the afternoon, the whole sky was a purple reddish color.
Because of the dust,
it literally tore the plants right out of the ground
and buried them.
Now they used to lose the crop,
but you lost probably as much as three, four,
five inches of topsoil.
It moved it from west to east.
The farm's all moved from west to east.
On the wind, this particular farm,
the dust accumulated right where we were standing
on this big hump.
And why did it stop here?
Because at the very beginning of that dry period,
John Combs, who owned this farm,
planted this row of big white pine,
and that stopped the wind,
and thus the blowing dirt all accumulated
in this big hump.
That big roll that you see down there,
we planted those in 66, 67.
Your mother helped plant those.
All right.
As a matter of fact.
But they don't compare to that white pine
that we see right there, for example,
which is 85 years old.
Look how big it is.
I mean, it's a huge tree,
a beautiful tree.
It's interesting to know the history of your land,
and if you didn't really know that,
then you just think that there's these random trees
that are all in a row.
It's not just nature that's shaping itself,
but humans that are helping it makes you seem
a lot more little compared to everything else.
I mean, your life, I guess,
we're basically 20 in these trees
are 40, 50 years old.
So something that's two and a half times your age.
I mean, I think it makes me look forward to the future
and how this is going to look in another 20 years or so.
Passing on what the land was about
to the next generation and the generation after that
without doing any harm to it.
I'm trying to do that,
but I'm trying to improve on what had previously happened
because this land had been almost destroyed
through wind and water erosion,
huge gullies.
And so now slowly it's healing,
and it's taking many years,
but it's healing, and it's getting better,
and there are no gullies,
and there's no wind erosion.
I hear you guys where you see the plowing
that furrow, I plowed that to spring,
and we planted.
So you can see the little trees growing in there.
You might ask, why did you plow a furrow
before you planted the trees?
Do you know why?
I don't know why.
Do you know why Ben?
I have no clue.
Oh, come on, no.
Look at all the grass around here.
For a tree to grow, for any plant to grow,
and by plowing a furrow,
I have given the tree a chance.
We start planting usually by the middle of April,
and I don't think we've missed a year
that I didn't plant some trees here.
Sometimes only 100, sometimes four years ago
we planted 7,000.
So in the early days we planted 1,000 every year,
four rows, all the way around.
And then we plant a little patches,
100 trees here and 100 trees there.
How come you put them in patches?
This farm is very subject to water erosion,
meaning gullies form when it rains hard.
And so the steep side hills I planted to trees
to stop water erosion.
That was the main reason.
So how come you left all this open then?
Well, this whole area I left open because
underneath red pine that are planted this thick,
there's absolutely nothing, almost nothing
that grows underneath them, a tree desert.
And besides that, I get a big kick out of prairie restoration.
This land was first plowed, can you believe this now?
It was plowed in 1867 with oxen.
And it was all big tall grass at the time.
And from 1867 to 1966, it had been farmed.
Plowed, planted the corn, planted the oats,
planted the hay.
This is a poor farm, it's sandy.
And so one of the reasons I've done this is that
I wanted to see what would happen if you just left it alone.
And then I allowed the wild grasses and the wild flowers
to emerge by themselves.
And people said to me, you can do all the weeds.
This is interesting.
You have to worry about the weeds.
In two or three years, the weeds will disappear.
And the native grasses and the wild flowers will start coming
all by themselves.
How does that happen?
I don't know how it happens.
That's the mystery of it.
And that's the fun of it, because almost every year,
I discover a wild flower I have not known,
a wild grass I've not seen before.
It's called Big Blue Stem, because,
you see that bluest tinge to it?
Yeah.
Yeah, this is a nice little patch right here.
By late August, early September, this will be,
it will be like this, but it'll be about this tall.
And not only will it grow six feet tall,
it's got a root system that goes six feet down.
One of the interesting questions is,
how old do you think it is?
You know, it could be 500 years old.
Wow.
Older than that.
I've known a lot of people who know all kinds of facts.
They can identify all of these plants and they know the Latin
names and they know it all.
And that's wonderful, but that's just the beginning.
Accumulating facts does not mean that you know.
And knowing means, oh, so much more.
It's so much deeper.
It's a connection to history.
It's a spiritual thing, to be honest about it.
Knowing is the deepest kind of way of relating to something.
It's a connection between the human person
and this thing called the land.
Knowing is something that some of us strive for.
I've been striving for it.
You never quite get there, but striving for it is so much fun
and it's so important.
And to stop with the identification of a plant and saying,
well, no, I know that plant.
You don't know that plant at all.
You just know its name.
Just on the trail a little bit is the most unattractive tree
you ever could imagine.
That's true.
And if you're interested in aesthetics and beauty
and a wonderful symmetrical tree that is appealing to all,
this ain't it.
This scraggly looking specimen is a jack playing.
I have no idea how old it is.
It could be 75 years old.
It grows in every direction.
It is certainly nothing to look at.
I have no idea.
Who's Jack?
I have no idea who Jack was in relation to this pine tree.
I make fun of it, but in its own way,
it's an absolutely beautiful specimen of what it's like
to live on poor, drowdy soil and survive.
It's a symbol of survival in the sand country.
There's something like the old commutrients that lived on this land.
They don't want a lot of company.
It really stands alone.
It doesn't want to be with other trees.
It doesn't care that there's not another jack pine nearby.
It's just happy standing there all by itself.
That old jack pine wants to be respected too.
It wants you to know that, look, I'm still here.
People come and go, but I'm going to be here well.
I don't see this as an economic somewhere
but I have this land to make plenty of.
I don't look at it that way.
I look at it as an aesthetic value.
Growing up in the city, I've been growing plants
or crops long enough to be able to know how to do that stuff.
But I mean, for the future, I would love to be able to come up here
and work in our garden more and have that knowledge
be sustainable or self-sufficient.
I think that's a very cool idea.
Every plant has several of those that are plump
and it has several of them that aren't.
You have to treat the plant quite gently
and pull it out of the root.
When I was growing up, the various activities on the farm
were divided up.
My dad was responsible for the cattle and the field work
and my mother, she was responsible for the chicken flock
and the garden.
She would enlist my dad and my brothers and me on occasion
only where we invited.
We could not offer.
We should not offer.
Stay out of the garden.
It is her garden.
But when she said, now I need your help hoeing
then we showed up the hole.
And my dad somehow, he just listened to that.
He did not argue.
There were two events where I sometimes got involved.
When we picked the green beans, which we will be doing here
in a week or two, and one was shucking peas.
We picked the peas and yet they shook them.
With my mother, I sat at the kitchen table
and we would each have a pan on our laps.
And then she begins asking questions.
What do you think you want to do when you get through
with a grade school?
She's like, I don't know.
Maybe I'd be a farmer like Paul.
And so that's how the afternoon went.
She's asking me questions.
And then I learned a lot about her too.
She said to me, she said, you know, I lost one to be a teacher.
I did not know that.
I think I said I wanted to be a teacher in second grade.
But when both your parents are teachers and your aunt
was a teacher and your cousins are teachers, it sort of.
Those days that I had a chance to sit with my mother
across the kitchen table on a hot day in Shilai
turned into something kind of interesting
because she learned something about me that she didn't know.
I learned something about her that she hadn't shared before.
I have never not had a garden save for the time I was in the army.
I've had gardens for years, years and years.
What do you think is going to happen?
I know this one.
These ones, these ones are place.
I've got that.
A couple of good ones there.
Yes, we go down this way, they're going to get bigger.
Well, we got, oh, um, what is one, that's a good size, I think Bugs Bunny, I need this
one.
This would be a very busy time of the year for us because mid-September was cutting corn
for silage time, and we've loaded on a wagon and hauled it up to the silo filler.
When the silo was filled, that usually was two or three weeks after the threshing was
done.
My dad clearly, he wouldn't say it, but you could tell there was a feeling of we've made
it through another season.
One of the things that we did do this time of the year, which we did all the time, but
especially in September when the nights were a little cooler and the mornings were a little
cooler, we would continue our walking, our exploring.
My dad would be checking the corn that was remaining, and he was always looking at the
neighbors, too.
There was a lot of comparing going on, but nobody talked about that, but everybody did
it.
They always wanted to see how the neighbor was doing.
All of that was going on in September.
And the garden, we were still harvesting things from the garden digging carrots and doing
all of that.
You guys noticed the zinnias?
Oh, yeah, bugs.
Those are zinnias.
My dad always, when he planted the garden, he always said you've got to put something
in the garden that's pretty.
It's not necessarily there for eating.
And he always had dahlias, a beautiful dahlias.
I usually plant some kind of a flower, just to your zinnia, so that's why they're there.
They're kind of pretty.
It's a different type of learning.
It's not straightforward, but once you start getting into it, it's hard to stop.
When I was younger, my mom brought me up here.
I was mostly excited just for, like, gator rides and just, like, the thrill of driving
around up here.
I thought we were going so fast, and it was amazing.
But now, as I grow older, and gator rides are still fun, obviously, but it's more the
idea that you can just be in nature.
It's just the, like, relaxation compared to downtown cities, and it's just a crazy contrast
between those two that it's exhilarating almost.
See, they go, they're little ant, they're little trails where they go out and forage
and they come back.
They're able to carry something that's several times their size.
See them moving the sticks around.
See those sticks on there?
Yeah.
They carry those around.
They're slowly building the anthill taller by bringing those little sticks in.
And how do they talk to each other?
I don't know if anybody knows.
But they...
I really appreciate coming out here, because you don't get to see this type of nature
in the city or not well anyway, and I think that's my favorite part about being out here.
I just kind of get out here and wander around and kind of get lost, and you know, you just
get to see new things every time.
It's a lot quieter, a little mini-escape, I guess you could say, even away from all of
your, in my case, being a college student.
So I don't have to worry about my homework or anything when I'm out here.
I just come out here and get to be away from it all.
Like the land itself and the animals and the trees, they all have a story to tell.
Well, the plants have a story to tell.
And this one has just a really interesting story to tell.
This is a lead plant, grows in clumps, as you can see.
When the pioneers ran on to this stuff, the breaking plow, got all tangled up with the
roots, so they called it the devil's shoelace, because they didn't like it.
And why is it called a lead plant?
Well, there are a couple of answers to that question.
If you look at the leaves, somebody said, well, it looks like the leaves are dusted
with white lead.
And it does look a little like that, doesn't it?
It's green.
Yeah.
It looks kind of metallic.
Also prior to the pioneers coming here, the Native Americans used this particular plant
by drying the leaves and making a tea, so it had medicinal properties.
So it's just an all-round interesting plant.
In a way, I do look at this as similar to the kind of harvest that we were doing on
the home farm, because just as we watched the crops, the old crop go from just coming
up to being harvested to corn crop from planting time, here it's happening naturally.
And it's so fun.
Each year, I don't know what crop is planted.
It's a mystery.
For those who say, well, you've seen a prairie, you've seen them all, you haven't.
There'll be something different, something new.
One of you guys have seen this much yellow in one place, huh?
Pack of games.
I don't know.
No, I've never seen this many yellow flowers before.
Well, it's really quite amazing.
And this year, because we've had some good recent rains, it's a little more vivid than
usual.
There are at least three different kinds of goldenrod.
That's what we're seeing mostly.
If you look closely, look at this one right here.
Notice how that one is vivid yellow right now, and the one to the left of it is in decline.
So that means that it's likely a different kind.
And blazing star, that's another little flower that you see in there that punctuates the
picture with some purple going along with all of the yellow.
And people look at this and they say, why in the world do you stand up there and say
how beautiful all of that is?
Because don't you know that goldenrods are seen as a weed by some people, and that's
true.
And also for those who have allergy, goldenrod can be a bit of a problem.
For me, my dad would say this too, there are things that we just need to look at.
And the big question is, what does worth mean?
Does worth always have to be economic?
No, in my opinion.
Sometimes that which is most worthy has no economic dimension to it at all.
I'm talking about that which is most difficult to define.
Some would say that the spiritual dimension of what I'm looking at, that which affects
us emotionally, sometimes in ways that we don't even realize.
And I'll often come out here to this prairie, and I'll just sit here just when the sun's
going down.
I may see a deer, but mostly it's just quiet.
It's just the environment and me.
And why do I do that?
And how does that affect me?
I can't tell you.
It's just something that I need to do.
It's a chance to relate to something that is beyond definition.
And then off here to the left, that's called the butter and eggs.
It doesn't grow very tall, it grows in patches, there's a patch of it there.
And then we look straight ahead down in that hollow, see that hollow down there?
It's just filled with butter and eggs.
The monarch butterflies like good goldenrod, if you look around, you see monarchs flying
all over the place.
And there's a whole array of other insects that live off.
There goes some monarchs right now, see?
They're just all over the place.
They lump the golden rods.
What other kind of butterflies you see out here?
All kinds.
One of the interesting things is that we use no insecticides here because we're not growing
corn or other grains or anything like that.
And thus, we have all kinds of butterflies, and other insects as well.
The insecticides that kill harmful insects on commercial crops, of course, kill butterflies
too, and other insects.
And here they are free to roam.
I think my dad had a relationship to the land that was reciprocal.
It was sort of like it sounds strange, and he would never have said it this way, but
it goes something like this, I'll take care of you, meaning the land, and I know that
you're going to take care of me.
That's a profound idea because so often today, the land is seen as commodity, let's make
some money off of it, I understand that.
He understood that in a different way.
He understood that he was going to receive, but he had to give back.
And so you didn't put corn on the same patch of ground year after year.
You moved the crops around, this crop rotation it was called, and it invigorated the land
just as we as human beings are invigorated with variety.
The same thing over and over and over again does not do us any great benefit.
Just as the land does not want to be, and I'm speaking against the common thread of
thought these days, it does not want the same crop year after year after year after year.
Ten years ago, I probably wouldn't have talked this way, but there comes a time when the
truth needs to be told.
Hi, I'm John Baskowski, you're watching The Land with Jerry Apps, and I'm here with Jerry
Apps, encouraging you to sport, public television to sport, your station that brings such wonderful
programs to you night after night, day after day.
Jerry, it's really important that people record these stories and share these stories.
It is because we're losing a tremendous amount of really fascinating history.
Each person has a very special, unique story to tell, and they don't take time to tell
it.
People say to me, well nobody cares about my story, well your story is special, doesn't
matter who you are, where you grew up, if you grew up in a big city or on a farm, doesn't
matter.
Your story is still special, and you ought to get it down if for no other reason than to
share it with your family.
And the program, The Land, is a great tool to do that when you contribute to your public
television station with a gift of $6 a month, you can receive the DVD and you can watch
it with people in your family and you can share your stories.
Call with your pledge now.
And this is a very special time to call because it is a challenge break.
We have members who have put a pot of money aside and they're going to match your contributions
right now, only during this break, up to $2,000.
So every dollar that you contribute right now will be doubled.
And when you make a pledge of support in the amount of $6 a month or $72 all at once, we're
going to send you the DVD of what you're watching right now, The Land with Jerry Apps.
Wonderful, it's one of those DVDs that you'll be sharing and watching over and over again.
And for a pledge of support of $15 a month or $180 we'll send you a wonderful collection
including the book that this particular program is based on, it's called Whispers and Shadows,
it's hard cover, it's a really lovely book full of wonderful observations about nature
and all three of Jerry's DVDs including the one you're watching tonight as well as a farm
story and a farm winter.
All of those are available for you when you make your pledge of support right now during
this challenge break.
Jerry mentioned how important it is to share those stories and preserve the stories of
your life, of the place that you grew up, of the land and which you grew.
And that's something that I think is really intriguing about the land, the show that
we're watching this evening.
It really sparks conversations about how things were in the past or how they might be in the
future.
And that's something that's a beautiful, one of the beautiful things about this show.
And of course, we're able to bring you this show because of your support.
People all around the country have gone to the phones at their local PBS station and
they've dialed the number on their screen and they've made a pledge of support to their
local PBS station.
And we're encouraging you to do that now so that we can continue to bring you stories
like stories from Jerry Apps and many, many other storytellers around the country.
Please if that's something that's important to you, go to your phone right now and call
the number on your screen.
Thanks for your calls.
It's wonderful to hear that response.
Join us with your phone call.
We have a couple people who have joined us.
Jerry, you want to introduce?
Yes, these are the stars of the show by my grandsons.
This is Josh Harmon on my far left.
This is Ben Harmon.
It's right behind me.
And they are so tall.
I need a box to stand on.
So Ben, you want to tell us a little bit about the steering stories from your grandfather?
So one great thing about making this documentary was just getting to hear my grandpa talk,
just about all of his time growing up and about how he actually feels about nature.
He does tell us about nature just a lot and he tells us stories and it's just always
nice that we're given this opportunity.
And Josh, we were all together at the premier in Wild Rose who want to talk to folks about
that.
That was great.
Yeah, it was a very good experience to be at the premier.
It was interesting to hear from other people who grew up with my grandpa in Wild Rose.
And it was interesting during the question and answer part to hear about their stories
that are so similar to my grandpas and that kind of how, you know, as a community they
can really, you know, interact and it was very cool to be at.
It was really wonderful.
People added their stories and they built on their stories and maybe a little lie here
in there.
No, no, no, no, there's none of that.
The Bill and Bellishment here.
You really could see the community, they share these stories and I know these shows have
inspired other people to do the same, to share in their family and their community and that's
possible because of your support for public television.
We're in the middle of a challenge break.
We have members that are matching your contributions right now during this break, dollar for dollar.
So we'd love to hear from you right now.
And when you make your pledge in the amount of $6 a month or $72 at once, we'll send you
the program DVD that you're watching right now, The Land with Cherry Apps including his
beautiful grandsons and lots of wonderful stories and you almost feel like you're on
the trails with him in this DVD.
And for your pledge of $15 a month or $180, we'll send you the book that inspired or
that this is based on it's called Whispers and Shadows.
It's a hardcover book and it's lots of observations about the natural world from his farm.
And it also includes all three programs that Jerry has made with Wisconsin Public Television
including a farm story, a farm winter and The Land.
All of those are yours for your pledge of $15 a month or more and the number is on your
screen.
If you've already called in and shown your support for your local PBS station, thank
you so very much.
If you haven't, now is the perfect time.
There are plenty of volunteers standing by, you just call the number on your screen and
talk to one of the volunteers.
They can tell you a little bit more about becoming a sustaining member of your local
PBS station.
It's a great way to make your membership very easy to keep up.
If you can change it, if you want to change it, if you want to stop for some reason, you
can do that as well.
But it all starts with you going to your phone and talking to one of the volunteers and as
I said, they'll fill you in with other information about becoming a sustainer.
But it's a great way to show your support for your local stations.
So please call the number on your screen now.
And when you do make that gift of $15 a month, we have all three documentaries with Jerry
Apps all about growing up on the farm in the 40s and in the 30s and a wonderful story
on a farm winter, a Christmas story that a reminder of that era.
Jerry, tell about your book, Whispers and Shadows.
This book is all about experiences on the farm, mostly on the farm I have now, but also
with reference to some of the great nature writers, Thoreau and Aldo Leopold and people
like that who inspired me along with some of our neighbors who were very common ordinary
people, but they had a connection to nature that was unbelievably profound.
That's another theme that runs through my work.
Thanks, Jerry, for joining us and thanks for calling, supporting your public television
station with your pledge.
Well, I've been watching the land.
I can't help but think of memories from me growing up and the kind of the environment
that we were in.
Our dad, for example, used to take us out on nature walks, just like Jerry's dad did.
And when we planted our garden, we always had flowers in the front too, except for us
it was marigolds and then bachelor buttons.
To the stay, I still plant bachelor buttons in my garden, but that's part of the legacy
of growing up and the traditions that came from my family.
The other thing that I think the land does is it sparks conversations.
You see how the conversations that Jerry and his grandsons have had and the things that
they've discussed?
Well, if you have the show and you're watching it on DVD, you could do that too with your
own family or other people in your community or other people that you want to share your
memories with and share your experiences with.
That's one of the wonderful things about PBS.
We bring you quality shows like this that are not only entertaining, but we learn from
them, we share from them, and we really grow from those.
Because that's important to you, I'm going to ask you to go to your phone right now,
call the number on your screen and talk to a volunteer at your local PBS station.
This is just one of the programs that we bring you of Wisconsin stories.
We have around the farm table and Wisconsin foodie, wonderful programs about Wisconsin.
We are particularly proud of these because they're being shared nationally through PBS.
And right now, during this challenge break, we have a dollar-for-dollar match when you
pledge your support to this program right now, only during this break.
And we'd love you to pledge your support in the amount of $6 a month.
We'll send you the program DVD that you're watching.
That is The Land with Jerry Apps.
It's really meaningful and lots of beautiful visuals.
It's something you can share over and over again.
It's also available for a one-time pledge of $72.
Or you can pledge your support at the $15 a month level, or $180, and we'll send you
the book that this program is based on, it's called Whispers and Shadows, and all three
of Jerry Apps' DVDs, program DVDs.
It's a wonderful way for us to thank you for your support of Wisconsin Public Television.
The number is on your screen.
Thank you.
One of your favorites is Ken Burns.
Yes, Ken Burns is one of my heroes.
He knows history, he knows how to talk about it, he makes it interesting, and it's accurate.
I work as a historian too, and his work is just wonderful.
That I watch all of his shows.
Ken Burns is one of the things wonderful about the history work we do in public television.
It really inspires people to want to learn more.
Exactly, it's wonderful.
And that's what your dollar support with your pledge to your public television station.
And remember with that $15 gift, $15 a month, you can receive the land, which is the program
we're watching, a farm story, which is really about growing up on the farm, and then a farm
winter, which is about the sort of hazards of living on the farm before electricity.
And also Whispers and Shadows, the book that we've been talking about, is all available
to you when you contribute to your public television station.
Well, thank you again if you've already made your commitment to your local PBS station.
We're going back to the show in just a moment, but there's still plenty of time for you to
join your local station and say, yes, I want to see shows like the land with Jerry Epps
on my local station, and I'm willing to step forward and make an ongoing monthly contribution.
That's something you can do if you join your station.
As a sustaining member, it's a great way and an easy way for you to become a member of
your local station.
You make an ongoing monthly contribution and then you can sit back and every time you turn
on your local PBS station and see all of the quality programming, you know that you have
done your part to help bring that to not only to you and your family, but to people all
around your community.
So please go to the phones right now, call the number on your screen and talk to one of
our volunteers.
Jerry Epps stories are about community, those rural community growing up on the farm that
are sustained by people pulling together.
We see here the stories of thrushing, of the one room schoolhouse, of community, and that's
how public television works.
It's all of us pulling together, contributing our dollars.
I encourage you right now to go to your phone, show and tell your public television station
that this is important to you, that you value this and you want to see more work like this
on public television and that you will make it possible with your financial support.
Phone numbers on your screen, when you call, you make a contribution in your community
by bringing these wonderful stories to people in your community.
Thanks.
In the fall of the year, that transition time, that time to celebrate, that time to change,
to do something different.
Again, it sounds hokey, but the land talks to me.
It wants to tell me these stories that I remember as a kid.
The reminders are everywhere, the smells of fall, all of those leaves on the ground,
the smells bring me back to that.
I smell as a powerful memory trigger.
And then the sounds of fall, the wind going through the trees, and of course all of the
colors of fall, and the geese, the geese flying down north to south, and long, bees honking
their way along.
My memories, maybe I'm blessed or cursed, but my memories mostly are in stories.
They're not just events that happened.
There are people involved, there are emotions involved.
They're all the elements of what a story is.
And maybe that's from my relatives, especially my dad, he was a storyteller.
Right next to us is an old Edie Ecker farm that was once owned by a fellow, Morton Olafont.
As kids, we called him Morty Elephant, because we didn't know about Olafont.
They poor old bachelor.
Most of the neighbors and the community sort of ignored him because he had a speech impediment.
He stuttered.
He stuttered so badly you could hardly understand a word that he said.
And so people just ignored him.
Well, my dad didn't.
We lived a couple of miles from here then, and he would stutter a welcome, and we would
sit down by the wood stove.
My dad said to him, Morty, I think Jerry would like to see what's in that little box
over there by the wood stove.
And I kind of perked up, I see a little box over there.
And Morty would make this noise like that with his mouth.
Out of that box came a full grown raccoon.
Geez, I mean, I've never seen a raccoon that close, and a raccoon walked right up to him,
and he sat there.
Morty would go, and the raccoon would make a kind of a clicking noise, and he would hand
the raccoon a peanut.
Yeah, he had a peanut in his pocket, an un-shuck peanut, and a raccoon, they almost have like
their little front paws, or like hands, and a raccoon would open up the peanut, put the
shell on the floor, and put the peanut in his mouth.
I'm just sitting there like this is really something, which it was, but then he lifts
up a floorboard in the kitchen, and guess what comes out of that hole, a full grown
badger.
No way.
A badger.
A big bugger.
I mean, they're big.
This big old badger waddles across the floor, stops right in front of him, and starts to
purr like a kitten.
I mean, geez, I think I'm going to bite off my leg.
It's not a no.
The badger and Morty are carrying on a conversation.
I swear they're talking to each other.
I don't know what they're talking about.
I can't understand these are one of them.
What's that all about?
Well, hear this guy who's living all by himself.
He had a way of communing with nature that's unbelievable.
These were his friends.
First off, I think we have to get past the notion that we're animals too.
Even though we may think we're so far above raccoon, we're still animals, and maybe deep
within our DNA, there's a communication link that crosses the species.
I'm stretching it now, and I say that, but that may be so.
You think you have a bad connection?
I don't know.
I've never talked to a badger.
These had us out here since I was a little kid, and maybe I didn't realize what he was
doing, but subconsciously maybe I'm picking up on it now.
I finally have mold enough to realize how important it is to care about these things.
So valuable just so I can go up to him, ask him whatever, and even if he doesn't know
the answer, he's going to tell me something anyway.
There's a good story and everything, and that's what he tells me, so I think that's
his valuable lesson that he's taught me.
Way back in 1947 when I was 12 years old, I was in eighth grade and came home from school
one day, and I was feeling awful at a headache, sore throat, and the following morning when
I woke up my right leg didn't work.
I should have, I guess, because a neighbor boy, just half a mile away, died of folio,
but I did not think of folio.
I thought it was something that would go away in a day or two, something like when you get
kicked by a cow and your leg doesn't work too well, and when it gets better you can
go again, but just didn't go away.
Like three days later, the folks finally decided they should take me to a doctor because my
leg wasn't getting better.
The idea of going immediately to the doctor was unheard of, country people didn't do
that.
You're supposed to tough it out.
Well, you don't tough out folio, and my doctor reminded me, you really are lucky.
I said, what do you mean, I'm lucky, I can't stand up.
He said, you're still alive, which sort of puts it in perspective, doesn't it?
Yeah.
Did you have other classmates with folio or?
Sure.
Right after the war, 45, 6, 7, 8, 9, those were folio years, all through the Midwest.
I was a little concerned because the hospital was full of folio victims, and there was
a kid or two dying almost every day.
So they didn't admit me to the hospital because there wasn't any room.
When the doctor told me that I was lucky I was still alive, I wasn't so sure I was
going to continue to be alive because when my mother said, what should we do with him?
And the doctor said, take him home, give him a lot of liquids, and keep him warm.
And that sounded like maybe in a week or so, I wouldn't be around anymore.
Terrible feeling when you're 12 years old.
Yeah, I can't imagine.
Did you know of any way to get better?
Like, was there any rehab that you could do?
I had no idea, and I couldn't walk even.
I couldn't stand up hardly for the better part of several months.
And so one of the first things that happened in April when the snow was gone and I was
able to get around a little bit, I still was feeling just absolutely worthless at that
time.
And nobody would have anything much to do with me because I was ornery and my brothers
were down on me because they had to do my chores and all that sort of thing.
So I would go out into the woods.
We had a 20 acre woods back of our farmhouse, and it looked something like where we are
right now.
It was a very quiet place, and one of the interesting things, this sounds maybe a little
bit quirky, but sitting in the woods, the trees, well, they would listen to you and
they wouldn't talk back.
And it didn't feel, this sounds really weird, it felt weird, but it's true.
So I would sit out in the woods and just sit there.
Well, when I came back home, I wasn't feeling quite so sorry for myself.
That idea of going out into a place that is quiet with a lot of trees around, there's
mystery to that, there's mystique to that.
It was my therapy.
It's a terrible disease.
You feel absolutely devastated and worthless, and people ask me about it, I say to them,
once you've had polio, you always have it because it's not only a physical problem,
but it's a psychological one because you go through life feeling somewhat less than
everybody else.
Another dimension to that, which is unfortunately was very common in those days, if you had
is a country kid especially, if you had some kind of a physical disability, you also were
immediately judged to be mentally incompetent.
So you go through life trying to cover up for it.
Well my dad would have none of that, each night what he did.
My dad thought that horse liniment was good for everything.
If you had an upset stomach, he gave you horse liniment.
If you had a sore muscle, you got horse liniment.
That's both for people and for horses and cows.
That's what he did.
He rubbed my knee with horse liniment and pulled on it to try and make it work, and
by two or three weeks I could bend it again.
I was so mad at him, it hurt like a bugger, and this horse liniment must have red peppermint.
Oh man, I had a hot knee.
Oh geez, every night, just hot knee.
And by the end of April into May, I was able to go to school again.
I talked to nobody about it.
I always limped a little bit, but I never talked about it, because that nagging feeling
of worthlessness just hangs in there.
So when you were out here by yourself in the woods, what would you think about to get you
cheered up?
I would try to think about nothing.
There are times that's important to try and wipe your mind clear, just to turn off the
cell phone and leave it home, just be quiet, sit down, be surprised what happens.
Since people are just on their phones constantly, I don't think they can actually just think
to themselves, because they're just taking in information.
I must admit, I'm probably on my cell phone more than I probably should be or want to
be, I guess, but it's the feeling that if you aren't connected to everybody around you,
then you're just going to get left behind.
And that idea just seems so meaningless when you're out here.
I'd learned this from my dad, and I was two years old, and he went out to woods.
He quiet, sit down.
And I know what he was thinking about.
And I never said to him, what should I think about, I mean, that would have been a dumb
thing to ask him.
He would look at you like you're nuts.
As I think about it, I think my dad was thinking just as I'm thinking now, he was thinking about
when he was a kid.
He was just looking off in the distance like I do here, and I'm certain what he was thinking
about, what it was like when he was a kid, when my aunts and uncles were all there, and
what it was like, he was born in 1899, what it would be like in 1910, 1912, what kind
of animals were here, what kind of trees were here, I'm sure he was thinking about that.
And that's what I'm doing.
And that's what I hope my grand boys.
I hope they will do that.
I'm looking forward to them saying, you know, I remember when we helped plant trees, and
I remember when we helped cut wood, and I hope that they see those as valuable memories.
We're at that time of the year, it's a kind of celebration for nature, and it wants to
show off in its own way quietly, but vividly with all of the color.
It's always, well, sometimes we're in too big of a hurry doing everything that we're
doing to take time to respect, appreciate, and enjoy, as nature is trying to show us something
that is really quite spectacular.
It's sort of like going to a fireworks display, and at the end of the fireworks is just big
explosion of color.
That's what nature is doing with autumn.
It's just huge explosion of color, and then everything goes drab and quiet, and we become
browns and greys, tans, before everything turns to white.
Some of the years did you see?
Quite a lot of them.
No bucks.
Six or eight?
No.
It was kind of fun just to watch them.
Yeah.
Where were you?
Right here.
That's my favorite little spot, that's where Grandpa was sitting, many long years ago.
I have hunted now 69 consecutive years without missing a deer season.
I started hunting in 1946 at age 12, and for the family, deer hunting was much, much more
than shooting a deer.
I don't get up 5'30 in the morning, it's 20 degrees, freeze your tail off, stumble
through the dark to try and find where you're supposed to sit.
I mean, why in God's creation do anybody do that?
Stupid.
Not really.
It's a tradition, it's a family gathering, it's a storytelling event, it's something
that's much, much more than just getting some meat for the table.
Oh, we had the stories to tell every deer season as a story to tell.
In 1992, my dad was not feeling well, and I noticed that he had trouble catching his
breath.
And I said, Pa, are you planning on going deer hunting this year?
And he didn't say anything for a minute, he said, yeah, I've got to go down to a tome
and get my license, I haven't gotten my license yet.
And so on the opening day of deer season, I stopped by his house in wild rose to pick
him up 5'30 in the morning, bitch dark.
I come in the house and there he sits on the chair, he has a 30-30 savage lever action
deer rifle that he bought in the forties.
He's got it across his lap, he's got his orange coat ready to go, he's ready to go deer hunting.
And so we get in the truck and I say, where do you want to stand?
He says, well, I really don't want to stand, I got a chair here, you got to bring this
chair on.
And he says, I want to sit down by the pond.
And so he sits down right where we are right now.
I go off to my stand, well, this is what happened.
He got cold.
And so he started walking around a little bit and he walked up on top of the hill.
And there he ran into Steve, my son, his grandson.
And Steve had William, his friend.
His friend, Rick, was a deputy sheriff.
He knew firearms.
They both had, I think at the time 30-30, Winchester's was scopes the whole schmear.
And they're up on the hill.
And my dad comes up and stands with him and they talk a little bit.
And they see three deer, way off, 200 and some yards away, we measure it later.
And they're running.
And one of them is a buck.
And Rick and Steve, they commence shooting at these deer.
I mean, each one of them shot three or four times.
I didn't ever touch them.
And my dad said, which one is the buck?
He had open sights, no fancy anything.
This open sight, 30-30's lever action savage.
And Steve says the second one.
And my dad pulls up, bang, lever action, bang, the buck deer falls.
We walk over to the deer.
He shot it twice in the neck at 200 plus yards.
We're all, he's 92 years old.
We're all standing there like, what is going on?
He's got a big smirk on his face.
He doesn't say anything.
Why'd you shoot him in the neck?
Well, I didn't want to waste any meat.
I don't know if he was just plain lucky or if somebody, something knew that this was
his last hunt and they would give him a chance, I don't know what was going on.
But it's a story that will remain in the family forever.
It's a powerful story.
This year, at the beginning of deer season, which was yesterday, I sat in the chair at
the very spot where he sat.
I could almost hear him in the wind.
You could feel his presence.
I don't know if I was even so much aware of it as I am today, but in 1966 when we started
coming here, acquired the place, I had in the back of my head the idea that I would
like this place insofar as possible to look like it did before it was first settled.
In other words, what did Tom Stewart see when he came here in 1867, which is when he homesteaded
the place, Civil War veteran?
Now, is that some kind of a payback for the values that I've experienced in spending
time here?
I suspect it is.
It is very hard for me to even say what it is that my family and I have gained from
this place.
I'm still in search of that kind of mysterious, almost mystical dimension to a piece of land
and how it affects the people who are on it.
How this piece of land has ultimately influenced me, my wife, my kids, and my grandkids.
I don't know that now completely, I'll keep looking for it.
Dear Grandpa, I don't think I've ever told you how much the farm has meant to me.
So often you have been open about how you feel about it, and because of this, I feel
bad that I have not reciprocated my feelings.
The farm is a treasure, one that is highly complex, and one from which I have so much
more to discover.
I cherish the moments when you teach me things that otherwise I would never have cared to
know.
The farm offers a place that brings our family together.
Dear Grandpa, I remember when I was younger the excited feeling of seeing deer.
You once pointed out a buck, and by the time I caught a glimpse it was running away from
our noise, and I was sprinting after it to get a better look.
When I got back you had a big smile on your face, and asked sarcastically if I caught
up to it.
I'll also never forget how nervous my mom was when you let me drive the gator for the
first time.
The excitement of that moment still sticks with me.
These are memories that I don't think I'll ever forget.
You've taught me how to garden.
You've taught me about the different kinds of wildlife, and the flowers, and the trees.
You've taught me how to be patient and quiet, and just listen and watch.
And most importantly, you've taught me how to appreciate the farm, and everything it
has to offer.
Thank you, Grandpa.
You've just watched the land with Jerry Apse, and you've seen the whole program, and what
a wonderful ending with the ladders from New York Mansons.
It's the DVD of the programs available with a gift of $6 a month, and with a gift of $15
a month, we have all three DVDs that we've been talking about, and this new book, Whispers
and Shadows.
Do you want to tell them about that, Jerry?
Sure.
This is a series of stories about what it was like on the farm when I was a kid, and what
I learned from my father about nature, what I learned from the neighbors about nature.
Well thanks for sharing these stories, and thank you for calling, for pledging, for your
support of public television.
You can call right now, take advantages of these wonderful thank you gifts, and share
these stories, and share public television with your neighbors, and when you call with
your pledge at the number on your screen.
And for your pledge of support of $6 a month or more, or a one time pledge of $72, we'll
send you the DVD of what you have been watching, the stories across generations, and what struck
me was the honesty, Jerry's honesty, about having polio, and the feelings of growing
up like that, and such stories, and that's available for your pledge of $6 a month, or
more, or $72, and for a pledge of $15 a month, or $180, we'll send you all three of the
Jerry Apps programs.
We have the land that you've been watching tonight, also a farm winter with Jerry Apps,
some wonderful video and stories in this one, and a farm story with Jerry Apps, which
is the one that started it all, and in addition, the book that Jerry was just talking about
whispers and shadows, the inspiration for the program that we're watching this evening,
all those are available for your pledge of $15, or $180 all at once, as our thank you
gift to you for supporting Wisconsin Public Television.
You know, there are so many wonderful stories that have been preserved in the program that
we've just watched the land with Jerry Apps, PBS has made a commitment to Jerry Apps and
said, we want to continue to bring your wonderful stories to people, to all of our viewers.
So that's something that's important to PBS, and it's also important to you.
And because of that, we'd like to ask you to join us this evening as a member of your
local PBS station.
It all starts by calling the number on your screen.
You can talk to one of the volunteers.
They can run you through becoming a sustaining member, if that's something that you would
like to do.
It's a wonderful and easy way for you to have an ongoing support for your local station.
So it's very easy for you to join, but we need you to take that first step of going
to your phone and calling the number on your screen.
Thanks for folks who are calling.
Jerry, you and Ruth have been very generous to Public Television.
You want to tell folks about what you have.
I'm not any kind of a pitchman, I see that right up front.
But I think everybody ought to pledge to Public Television.
It's a great thing.
I say that not just because I'm standing here, but because it's something that my wife and
I have enjoyed for many years.
And I think you would too.
It's a great way to help Public Television.
We've heard from so many people who've watched a farm story, a farm winter, and the land.
It really, really recognized what Public Television means to them.
Yes, and I'm very humbled by that, and I'm very happy to do it.
Well thanks for your call, thanks for your support, thanks for contributing to Public
Television to bring these really extraordinary stories into your home.
Jerry Apps is just a consummate storyteller.
You can't help but have a smile on your face.
So many of us in Wisconsin have heard these kinds of stories, and now we can see and kind
of relive these times and keep these times alive for next generations.
And we're asking for your support of this program right now.
And when you make a pledge of $6 a month or more, or a one-time pledge of $72, we'll
send you the DVD of what you have seen this evening, The Land.
It is just marvelous.
And for a pledge of $15 a month, or $180 all at once, we'll send you a bundle of three
DVDs, and the book that inspired the program that you're watching tonight, the book's called
Whispers and Shadows.
You'll get the DVD of this program, also a DVD of a farm winter, which has wonderful
stories in it, and the one that started it all, a farm story, in return for your support
in the amount of $15 a month or more.
And you can call the number on your screen, and we are very grateful.
Well, if you've already called and joined your local PBS station, thank you so much
for doing so.
We truly appreciate your support.
But if you haven't, now is the perfect time for you to go to your phone, call the number
on your screen, and you'll talk to one of the volunteers.
Here's it'll only take you a few moments to become a member of your local PBS station.
And when you do, you'll know that when you go back to watching anything that PBS offers
for you, you've done your part to help bring that programming to not only to you and your
family, but to your community at large.
And of course, we also have those wonderful thank you gifts that we can send you.
I especially like that bundle package, because you get an opportunity to have all three of
the DVDs that have been produced, all those different stories.
Each DVD is very unique.
And of course, the book as well.
I love to have the book to go back and go into some of those stories in more in depth.
We've made it as easy as possible for you to join your local PBS station.
Now we need you to go to your phone and call the number on your screen.
And with that gift of $15 a month, remember we have Jerry's book, whispers, and shadows.
We have the land with Jerry apps, which you've just seen.
But these other two wonderful programs filled with stories, I remember, my favorite of
the Christmas stories in a farm winter, and the musicians.
Yes, Frank and Pinky and Harry were fantastic musicians.
They couldn't read on note of music.
They played by ear, but whenever the neighbors got together for a wedding or an anniversary
or a birthday party, these three musicians were there.
And especially during the Depression, when things were not very good.
They made life a little more interesting, and they gave us some hope.
That's in the farm winter.
And then in a farm story, it's about you're growing up on the farm, and you want to tell
people about the front door on the house?
Oh, the front door on our house.
It was there for sure.
You couldn't open it.
It was nailed shut in the winter time.
You could open in the summer, so the air could come through.
Anybody knew anything about farmers, as soon as you came around to the kitchen.
All these wonderful programs, all in this collection of DVDs from Jerry Apps available
to you, with a gift to your public television station of $15 a month.
Thank you.
We're asking for your support of Wisconsin Public Television, and specifically of this
wonderful program that we've been enjoying.
And for your pledge of $6 a month, or $72 at once, we'll send you the program DVD of
what you've been seeing.
And we have a wonderful set of thank you gifts, multiple thank you gifts for you at
the $15 a month pledge, or more, or $180, and that is the book that the land is based
on.
It's called Whispers and Shadows, and it also has three program DVDs, including the one
that you watched tonight, The Land, and one that started it all, a farm story.
And we also have the DVD of a farm winter for your pledge of support, $15 a month or
more, or $180.
The number is on your screen.
We'd love for you to call with your support right now.
Thanks.
We'll be moving on to our next program shortly, but there's still plenty of time for you
to call the number on your screen and become a member of your local PBS station.
And don't forget, when you join your local station, we have some thank you gifts that
we can send you your way for that ongoing monthly support of $6.
We'll send you a DVD copy of The Land with Jerry Apps, or if you call at that wonderful
that $15 a month ongoing monthly support, we'll send you what we've been calling the
bundle.
And that includes three DVDs of programs that feature Jerry and his stories and the wonderful
information that we've learned from Jerry and the people in his lives, and from The
Land as well.
And also, we'll send you a copy of the book, Whispers and Shadows.
So we have many ways to thank you, but now we need you to take the first step of going
to your phone and calling the number on your screen.
But thanks for joining us here, Jerry.
Introduce your grandsons again.
Well, here we have Josh Harmon on my far left, and this is Ben Harmon.
And well, what words of wisdom would you share with us as we wrap things up tonight?
Well, I'd have to say that you've taught me that nature is not only just at our farm,
but it's everywhere.
Well, that's pretty good, Ben.
I don't really know if I have any words of wisdom, but I just really appreciate the
experience that I had filming this documentary.
It meant a lot to me.
Well, thank you for sharing your stories with Wisconsin Public Television.
Well, and I hope that this program is an inspiration for other folks to grab those grandkids and
get them out there, get them outside, and enjoy nature and learn from this wonderful experience.
Early December, I walked the boys down to the pond.
There wasn't any snow on the ground.
It was just flat surface ice.
And we're walking across the pond, and two things happened.
You could see through the ice, and we see a muskrat beneath the surface.
And they were just unbelievably astounded, like, what's that?
I said, it's a muskrat.
Well, there was a muskrat, then just on the bank.
So we watched the thing swim under the water and into the bank.
I mean, they just could not believe that.
The second thing that happens, as you well know, ice expands and contracts.
And when it does that, it sounds like a cannon going off.
We're out in the middle of this pond, and we get this big crook, kaboom, and these little guys.
They just ran like everything.
They were sure they were going to fall in.
I said, listen, guys, the ice is talking to it.
It is not.
The Land with Jerry Apps was funded in part by Holiday Vacations, Ron and Colleen Wires,
Stanley J. Cottrell Fund, Carol Gaynor, and the National Endowment for the Humanities.
Explore new worlds and new ideas through programs like this made available for everyone
through contributions to your PBS station from viewers like you.
Thank you.