By Beth Hubbard, July 2026

For 250 years, America has changed in countless ways. But on farms across this country, each spring still begins with hope. Let’s unite in hope for this country we love.

It’s hard for me to wrap my head around what farms were like 250 years ago.  One thing for sure: they would have been very different from the agritourism farms of today like ours.  As we work the farm that has been in our family for 65 years, we till the same land, pick in some of the original orchards, and thanks to Dad, have vintage tractors and equipment that we still use.

We may run the farm with spreadsheets and text messaging, use weather apps to watch for approaching storms, and Facebook to let everyone know what’s ripe today.  But when you strip away the technology, farming is still the same.  It begins with hope in the spring, requires patience all summer, depends on the weather every single day, and ends with the joy of sharing the harvest with others.  There are still long days, sore muscles, anxious nights before a frost, and immense relief when the season is finally over.

I was five years old when my family started with a simple wagon with produce and a sign at the end of the yard.  From those humble (and hard) beginnings, the old barn became a market, then each decade, more chapters were added to our farm’s story.  Today it is a bustling market, with open and inviting spaces for the public to enjoy the farm experience, U-Pick, a bakery, a distillery, greenhouses that extend the season, and so much more.

Perhaps 250 years ago children remembered:

The memories change, but the importance of making them doesn’t.  Every season brings something worth waiting for: the first asparagus pushing through the soil, that first ripe strawberry, the peach you can’t eat without juice running down your chin, sweet corn in July, the smell of fresh apple cider, pumpkins that signal autumn has arrived.  Somehow, we still get excited every year all over again!

So we celebrate Freedom, Food and Family, not just this weekend, but always.

Freedom: The freedom to own this amazing farm, to dream, to build, to change it, to take care of it and to share it.  I’d like to think a farm is never really owned, each generation continues until it’s someone else’s turn.

Food: For 250 years Americans have gathered around tables filled with food grown by farmers. Food has always brought people together around the table.  It tells our stories, celebrates our holidays, and creates traditions that last for generations.

Family: Whether it’s the family who works the farm or the families who return every year to make memories, that’s what has always mattered most.  Farms have always been places where people gather.

One of our greatest joys is watching children who once came holding their parents’ hands return years later with children of their own, to experience the same things:

As America celebrates 250 years, we are grateful to be a very small part of that story.  Thank you for supporting local farms, believing in family businesses, and allowing us to be part of your traditions.  Every strawberry picked, every donut shared, every child with a wide grin coming down the big slide, and every sunrise and sunset over the orchards becomes another memory woven into the story of our farm.