Most people will tell you what country their family came from if you ask them about their heritage. They take pride in being an Irish-American, Italian-American, or a hundred other nationalities. This identity reveals itself in big Italian dinners, or special ethnic traditions during the holidays. People drive around with flags of their nationality hanging from their rear view mirrors. Their relatives talk about the “old country” and their arduous journey to the United States. They might have family still in the “old country” with whom they visit or communicate. But I don’t really have any attachment to a nationality, and America is the only country to which I feel I have any kind of tie.

Although I have English, German, and Polish blood in me, I personally do not identify myself with any of these nationalities. I consider myself an American, not an English, German, or Polish-American. I don’t do anything or have anything that would indicate my family’s country of origin. Frankly, my nationality means very little to me. My heritage is as an American, and that country is the only one with a significant impact on my life. I was born in America, my parents were born in America, and my grandparents were born in America.

My family does not have any traditions or practices that could be attributed to any specific heritage. We don’t do anything unique during holidays, we don’t eat any ethnic foods, and we don’t have any decorations or objects in our house that point out anything about our family history. We have simple family gatherings and dinners on Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving. We all have a taste for Italian food, even though there isn’t a speck of Italian in any of us. And our house is filled with artifacts that chronicle only the lives of the immediate family. My family simply does not have an identity of nationality.
Members of my family have been in America for almost 300 year, and I find it hard to have any meaningful connection to some foreign country of origin. My family being originally from England or Germany has much less impact on my life than it would for a second or third generation American. I consider my family’s place of origin to be the state of Connecticut. My family has been in farming in Connecticut since the beginning of the 1700s. Nearly my entire extended family lives near the original farm that had been ours for hundreds of years. None of them consider themselves to be anything but American. A New England farming family is our cultural identity.

Colonial settlers first arrived in Connecticut in the 1630s. They were lured by the rich fertile soil around the Connecticut River, but later found that the land beyond the valley was of poor agricultural value (Roth 21). Most of the highlands to the east and west were densely forested. The glaciers of the last ice age had skimmed the ground of most of its topsoil and deposited a heavy amount of rocks and stones. The thin soil and multitude of rocks made growing crops a difficult task, but the determination of the settlers to build a thriving community overcame nature’s obstacles.

The farmers of early Connecticut were more than able to provide enough crops to sustain the small population of the time. They grew corn, oats, rye, barley, and vegetables; the most important of these being corn. Corn was so significant, in fact, that it was legal currency in the colony for a time (Taylor 92). Corn was eaten at almost every meal, and was prepared in many different ways. From pumpkins, the early farmers made pies, breads, jellies, custards, and even beer (Taylor 93). Another early crop grown, tobacco, eventually developed to be a big player in the state economy. The rich soil of the river valley served as great land to grow the profitable, leafy plant. Connecticut tobacco farmers flourished and began exporting to the Boston and the West Indies before 1745 (Taylor 92). Production grew steadily for years, even while the focus of the state economy turned away from farming. By the 1900s, tobacco had become one of the leading agricultural products of the state. Leaves grown in Connecticut were used in the wrappers of about 90 percent of all cigars smoked in the US (Roth 23). But by the end of the twentieth century, tobacco production dwindled, as growing fields gave way to shopping malls and sports complexes.

Two major factors led to the decline of Connecticut agriculture in the late eighteenth century. There was a population explosion, and local farms simply could not provide the amount of food needed to sustain it. In the last 50 years before 1800, the number of people in the state more than doubled in size (Roth 22). Families often had eight to twenty children, and the very thin soil could not produce the quantities necessary to keep everybody well fed. As a result, the state increasingly relied on food imported from elsewhere. Secondly, Connecticut farmers employed poor methods of agriculture. They did an inadequate job of rotating the crops, and as a result, harvest yields dropped every year. The land was not properly tilled nor fertilized. The labor quality was poor, as only the children of a farm family were available to tend to the fields. Attempts at agriculture reform were made, but by that time, farmers had exhausted the usefulness of the state’s soil. Because of this, the majority of Connecticut farmers turned away from raising crops.

In the middle of the eighteenth century, many Connecticut farmers began to focus on raising livestock, because of increasing demand at home and abroad and the poor agricultural resources. Early attempts at raising sheep for wool failed because they could not duplicate the quality of English wool (Taylor 94). Farmers in the state did have luck, however, with cattle and hogs, as they were robust enough to survive the New England winter, and there was plenty of food for them to graze. Later on, farmers had success raising chickens and to this day, the dairy and poultry industries lead the state farming trade.
 During the nineteenth century, thousands of Connecticut farmers, fed up with the poor soil and lured by the fertile lands of the west, led a massive migration from the state (Roth 23). The remaining farmers in Connecticut faced tough competition from the great industrialization of our nation. As the country, especially the northeast, shifted from an agriculture-based to industrial-based economy, the numbers of people left tilling the fields dropped dramatically. Thanks to industrialization and commercialization, small family farms simply weren’t profitable anymore. Following the Second World War, the number of farms in the state fell from over 22,000 to less than 5,000, and by the 1970s, agriculture accounted for barely 1% of the state’s gross product (Roth 23).

Not every small family farm in Connecticut immediately folded under the pressures of the outside world. My family owned and operated a farm straddling the borders of Wallingford and Meriden well into the latter half of the twentieth century. Originally about 220 acres, in time the farm grew to over 400 and spawned two offshoot family businesses. In the centuries that my family spent tilling the soil, a deep connection to the land was born, similar to that connection some people feel for their country of origin. That farm became our ancestral land, rich with history and memories that were ours alone.

My family, with the surname Francis, first came to Connecticut from England in either the late 1600s or the early 1700s. In 1723 Joseph Francis came to Wallingford from Newington, Connecticut. The following year he purchased a plot of land from the King of England. The descriptions of the land on the deeds are very vague, and it is had to determine exactly how much of it there was. In 1775, Joseph passed his farm on to his son. The oldest surviving deed in the family’s possession reads: “To Jacob Francis a deed of a gift from his honorable father, Joseph Francis. Received in record May 23, 1775. As dated on the 23rd day of May in the 15th year of the reign of Our Sovereign Lord George III of Great Britain. Anno Domini 1775.” (Video)  At this time, Joseph was quite advanced in years and by the looks of it, could hardly sign his own name. Most likely then, this gift was for inheritance purposes and given at the end of his life.

 Little is known about the next 50 years except that the farm grew steadily and was passed down for a few more generations. In 1829, my great-great-great-grandfather, William Francis, built the longest surviving building on the farm. It was a new farmhouse that replaced the previous one that had either been outgrown or lost in a fire, etc. In 1910, Charles Greenbacker, my great-grandfather, moved next to the Francis Farm and bought a small tract of land from the Francis’. A few years later, he fell in love with and married Francis’ daughter, Isabel. In 1920, Greenbacker bought the remainder of the farm. From then on, it was known as the Greenbacker Farm. Charles continued to expand the amount of land owned, buying additional strips of land in 1939 and 1940.

The Francis’ grew many vegetables including potatoes, carrots, beets, strawberries, and cabbage. They also had an apple orchard and grew tobacco for a while. The plowing was done first by oxen and later by horses. When Greenbacker bought the farm, he followed a major trend among farmers in the state, and changed its focus towards dairy production. He also employed modern advancements in agriculture, using tractors first with iron wheels, then later with rubber tires. Horses were used until the 1940’s when motorized tractors took over all of the responsibilities. Over the years the farming methods changed from hand labor and ox plowing, to mechanical pickers and cultivators (Interview).

 In the 1930’s, milk production grew to the point were Charles decided to start a home delivery route of dairy products. He began in 1935 carrying 13 quarts a day by horse and wagon to houses in the neighborhood (Video). The routes expanded gradually and a milk processing plant was built. The business developed into a moderately sized dairy company. At its peak in the early 1980’s, Greenbacker & Sons Co. produced nearly 5,000 quarts a day. In 1981, the company sold its milk distribution business and joined the local farmers’ co-op for milk processing with a large commercial dairy (Interview).

The Greenbackers were also known for two other family businesses. As the milk distribution business grew, Charles’ sons began making ice cream. They built a dairy bar, which, while it existed, was famous for the best local homemade ice cream. Around the time the milk delivery routes were established, Charles bought the Meriden Farmer’s Co-op, a local consortium of growers. Over the years it developed into more of a supply and equipment shop, and eventually joined Agway, a national farmer’s collective. Today, Greenbacker’s Agway remains a strong family tie to the agriculture industry.

As the years went by, the Greenbacker Farm steadily felt the outside world encroaching in. The face of the country was shifting away from its agricultural roots. As neighboring farmers sold their land to developers looking to build new suburban communities, the farm found itself surrounded by housing developments. In the late 1960, Interstate 91 cut through a corner of the farmland, bringing the rapidly changing modern world even closer. The farm could not resist the pressures of progress forever, however.  For years the Greenbackers had relied on a 100-acre plot of cropland that they rented annually and used to feed their livestock. However, when the owner of this land decided to sell out in the early 1980s, the family faced a difficult dilemma. The farm could not survive the way it was without those 100 acres that they depended so heavily upon. It would either have to be scaled down drastically or closed down completely. Neither was a viable option for the family.

 Two opportunities arose that offered a glimmer of hope for the family to continue their farming tradition. The first was that the Saab Motor Corporation became very interested in acquiring the Greenbacker farmland. They had been looking into building a new U.S. corporate headquarters, and the farm was a perfect spot. It was a flat, expansive area that was near a major highway and already cleared. Also, real estate prices were very high at the time, which meant that the farmland commanded a considerable amount of money, money that Saab eagerly offered. The second opportunity that presented itself to the family was several miles away in Durham, Connecticut. There, and aging farmer was looking to get himself, but not his land, out of the business. He offered his farm, which was larger in area that the Greenbacker Farm, to the Greenbackers for a very good price, on the condition that the land would permanently stay in farming (Video).

Even with these two great changes of fortunes, the Greenbackers were still reluctant to pack up and leave the land that had been in the family for well over 250 years. The family understandably felt a considerable tie to the land, and was quite hesitant to sell it. After an awful lot of debate and discussion, they came to the conclusion that the sale was in the best interest in of the family, as it would let them stay in farming by moving the operation to Durham. As it came closer and closer to the groundbreaking day for Saab, family members became more and more anxious about leaving behind what had been such an integral part of the family’s life and history. In order to save lasting images and memories of the old farm, my second cousin Liz Greenbacker produced a sort of video time capsule that saved a bit of the farm for future generations.

The central point of the video is a conversation with the patriarch of the family, Herbert Greenbacker, who was a son of Charles Greenbacker and my great uncle. He was 73 in 1986, which was when the video was made, and has since passed away. He was the oldest surviving family member and the best source of family history available. He shared his memories as a young boy on the farm, raking and cutting hay, and laboriously milking cows by hand before the implementation of milking machines. He talked about his country school with seven grades, 21 students, and one room. He talked about the barn that was so old it was built with wooden pins holding the timbers together, and the series of three fires that destroyed it. And he said that he hated to see such good land go (Video).

 The video also captured the memories of younger generations. Herbert’s son Buddy talked about the days spent in his childhood playing in a small grove in the middle of a field. The grove was where the stones were deposited when the fields used to be cleared by hand, and it was literally covered with rocks. Buddy remembered the days when the children would play on the rocks, imagining it were a castle, with a large boulder serving as a throne, and a clump of trees holding their treasure of gold mica rock. A wet swampy area around the grove served at the castle’s moat in the summer, and the ice skating rink in the winter months. Buddy remarked that as the groundbreaking neared, “I have the feeling that I’d like to say that we’ve changed our mind [sic]” (Video).

Herbert’s grandchildren also offered their experiences on the farm with the video. They talked about sneaking out in the middle of the night in the summer to play outside. They would run through the cornfields, getting lost and sending each other signals and messages with flashlights. They would play solider, and the corn was their steaming jungle. They too had memories on the farm that would last a lifetime, and they too were sad to see the family leave (Video).

At the closing of the sale in New Haven, the Greenbackers showed representatives of the Saab corporations the deeds that had been in the family for hundreds of years. They wanted to show the company just how long and rich a history the land had, and just how many lives and memories had been formed. Saab was so impressed, they decided to restore the original deed and keep a framed copy in the entrance of their new building. Along side would be a plaque that commemorated the Francis/Greenbacker Farm, and served as a lasting memory for the people who lived there for so long. (Video)

As the country changed, so did my family and our farm. For the first 200 years, the farm reflected America’s agricultural society. In the 1900s, the farm shifted into a dairy business, as America was transforming into an industrial-based economy. In the latter half of the twentieth century, as large conglomerates swallowed up more and more small family farms, the Greenbacker family farm too felt the pressure. Eventually, small farms all but vanished from the US, and although they held out for much longer than many others, sadly the original Greenbacker farm eventually suffered the same fate

 For over 300 years my family owned and operated a thriving farm and dairy business in Central Connecticut. Although the family continues farming operations in Durham to this day, that farm never became “ours.” It could never compete with the history and memories and ties of the old farm. Most family members have moved out of the farming business, leaving the long tradition behind, but they will never forget their memories or fail to remember how being a farming family so considerably shaped their lives. For me personally, I never lived and worked on the farm, and since I have no appreciation for the joy that comes out of such hard work, I do not desire becoming a farmer. But I do remember visiting the farm as a young boy, with a feeling of wonder as I petted the cows and looked over the vast expanse of land. And with my entire family around me, and seeing how my father still longed for this place, I knew that this land really was our home.

A One Farm Family. Liz Greenbacker. Videocassette. 1986.

Delano, Jack. “Dairying and poultry farming hold first place in Connecticut agriculture. Cows just outside of Wallingford, Connecticut.” Photograph, Sept 1940. American Memory. 14 Dec. 2000. http://memory.loc.gov

Greenbacker, Charles. “Homework Help.” E-mail to the author. 15 Nov. 2000.

Taylor, Robert J. Colonial Connecticut. New York: KTO Press, 1979.

Roth, David M. Connecticut. New York: Norton, 1979.