Dealing with drought

Drought has always been part of my life, both personally and professionally. I've lost track of the many times I've seen it ravage crops and pasture, stress agricultural communities and devastate farm and ranch families.

Sadly, I'm watching and writing about it again this summer. Drought is hammering much of the Upper Midwest; many crops are damaged, in some cases badly or even fatally. Pastures and hayland are suffering, too. So are agricultural towns and families.

Nobody should be surprised by what's happening. Drought is an inherent, unavoidable part of regional ag. We know it will occur; what we don't know is how often it will strike and how severe it will become.

For some younger agriculturalists, however, this drought is their first, or at least their first big one. A long wet spell in parts of the Upper Midwest spared them from personal, first-hand exposure to drought. Until now. Sure, they heard horror stories from parents and grandparents, but nobody can fully understand drought's financial and emotional pain unless you live through one.

Young aggies just getting started often are most susceptible financially to the current drought. Older farmers and ranchers - who enjoyed good years in the past - may have built up a little cushion. Younger ones probably have not.

But producers' age isn't the underlying issue, of course; inadequate moisture is. Farmers and ranchers who catch a thundershower or two fare better than those who don't. It's that simple, and that arbitrary. As for being fair or unfair, well, it's just the way Upper Midwest ag is.

I'm reluctant to advise agriculturalists on how to cope with drought; they're too savvy to need help from me. But I will remind them of two things they know already, things I've heard time after time during decades of covering drought:

Pride and self-reliance are good and necessary, though only to a point. Don't let them stop you from talking with lenders about the financial difficulties. Don't let them prevent you from talking with friends and relatives - and possibly mental health professionals - about the emotional challenges.

'Tough it out'

I'll close with this anecdote:

While covering a North Dakota drought decades ago, I visited a veteran rancher in one of the hardest-hit areas. He was clearly uncomfortable; drought was bad enough, and now a guy from the news media was asking him about it. But the rancher was accustomed to unpleasant jobs: He smiled grimly and said, "Well, I'm not good with words. But I'll try."

He talked, fairly candidly and without self-pity, about how his ranch and his life were affected. Then he shrugged and said, "You tough it out the best you can. What else can you do?"

I understood exactly what he meant. So do area farmers and ranchers hit by drought this summer.

Good luck to all of you.