You know that book “You Can’t Go Home Again” by author Thomas Wolf?
You can.
I did it in April, when I returned to my hometown of Langford, S.D., to speak at the school’s FFA banquet. It was a double-barreled homecoming, for the event’s second speaker was my high school vocational agriculture teacher, Floyd Lehman. Lehman's a former Iowan from Doon who I hadn’t seen in almost 40 years.
Over dinner, we caught up on our families and careers. Then, we flashed back to 1978, when FFA was brand-spanking-new in Langford.
Back then, FFA wasn’t considered a “cool-kid” activity. My theory is that the school’s industrial arts teacher — who had a cool-kid collection via coaching sports teams — felt uneasy about a new program encroaching on his classes.
Unfortunately for them, his cool-kid backers hadn’t counted on him exiting teaching, which he did several weeks before my senior year started. That left me leading the fledgling FFA chapter — filled with uncool kids such as myself — as chapter president.
Maybe it was wearing the blue-and-gold jackets. Perhaps it was participating in meetings using parliamentary procedure. Or maybe it was just that FFA filled a niche of belonging to a group, something that had eluded me and others in high school.
Whatever the reason, a transcendent vibe that smacked of coolness and professionalism quickly permeated the Langford FFA. The high school’s principal had warned Lehman about a couple of members he deemed as “problems” in other classes.
“I didn’t have a lick of trouble with them,” Lehman recalled.
I reason that vocational agriculture and FFA gave us something tangible from which to learn. My first real farming experience was growing 20 acres of wheat for an FFA crop production proficiency project. Working on chapter fundraisers taught us teamwork. Attending the state FFA convention in Brookings, S.D., gave us a glimpse into myriad agricultural careers.
The chapter kept going for several years into the 1980s, when it dissolved.
Wonderfully, Langford Area School District 45-5 revived FFA three years ago under the direction of a great ag teacher, AnnaMarie Sachs.
Memorable FFA member
Then, Lehman mentioned Duane Michlitsch.
I hadn’t thought of Duane (or Dewey, as he was known) for decades. He was a couple of years younger than I was, but a memorable FFA chapter member. Lehman told a story about an FFA project that entailed butchering chickens.
“Can I have the chicken feet? Duane asked Lehman.
“Well … of course,” Lehman stammered. “Yes. In fact, you can take all you want.”
This was a new one on me, too. I never knew chicken feet were edible, but after the outer layer is stripped, the remaining edible tissue has a gelatinous texture that differs from other chicken meat.
That was typical of Duane, though, always pointing out something no one else would have thought.
Duane died in a farm accident in 2022. His obituary was akin to that of many other farmers. He raised hogs and deeply loved animals, particularly cats. He enjoyed hearing stories of the older days, when there were horses, steam engines and thrashing, and when neighbors helped neighbors and had time for each other. Over the years, he had amassed a collection of older vehicles.
Then, there was this sentence: During high school years, he was active in the FFA.
Duane was only in FFA for three years of his life. Yet, he counted it as one of the high points in his life.
Weaving a tapestry
Over my career, I’ve observed countless captains of agribusiness extoll the virtues of FFA, and how participation benefited their lives and those of employees who worked for their companies.
That’s great.
It’s equally important, though, to remember folks like Duane Michlitsch. Such FFA members have worked the land, cared for animals, lived, laughed, cried and poured their energies into church and civic involvement.
Individually, they seemingly are an obscure thread scattered across the countryside. Collectively, though, such FFA alumni weave a memorable rural tapestry.
And it’s remembered.