KNOW YOUR FARMER.

If you have ever purchased fresh vegetables from Maybelle Farm Market Stand, there’s a 99% chance they were grown by this man, here.

…Heck, if you purchased farm fresh vegetables from a Hmong family at the Kenosha Harbor Farmer’s Market, Drexel Town Square Farmer’s Market, Fond Du Lac Farmer’s Market and countless more throughout the last 15 years, there’s a good chance it was grown by this man, here.

If you ever came by Maybelle Flower Farm & Market during the last three summers, he was the man out in the field. The farmer. He was the one growing the vegetables, he was the one supporting himself, his wife, his children and his long distance family through farming this land. Him and his wife, Mai.

When we first moved to this property three years ago, Benson HAD to probably think we were so comical. We did everything wrong. We had no farm growing experience. We had no clue what we were doing. And then, our friendship began with a, “No, no, no— like this.” He always wanted to help us and he had more agricultural wisdom than anyone I’ve ever met. He knew how to seed start, all the dates to succession plant, the harvest calendar, and how to bounce back from a crop loss and start a new one that same day. He definitely knew how to work swiftly and efficiently to accomplish an extraordinary amount of physical labor in a days work.

We each grew to appreciate Benson in our own ways.

He would come over to check on what I would be working on most mornings and just laugh and shake his head. It seemed that I was always doing things in a way that was way harder than they needed to be, and he was never shy about telling me how he would do it. I said to him at least a dozen times this season that, “I quit. I am just going to work for you next year.” He responded each time with, “we’ll work together”.

He grew long rows of bachelor buttons, lilies, sunflowers, and baby’s breath and gave me free rein to harvest and have as much as I could.

He would always leave bushel crates full of vegetables on our porch and buckets full of flower bunches for me on the door step late Sunday evenings, because he would gift us whatever was remaining after the weekend markets. The stand would usually be most stocked on Mondays because of it.

Benson helped Eric and me when it came to a good portion of our planting.

He taught us many new ways of doing things and was resourceful with absolutely everything. He had a key to our tractor and would hangout and have beers together in the garage, especially on hot Saturday afternoons when returning back to the farm after a long day at a market.

Benson and Mai pulled into the driveway to start work at the farm each morning at sunrise, and leave to drive the 30 minutes back to their home at dusk, just about every single day, from the middle of April through the end of October.

He would look out for things when we were away, and some summer weeks I’m sure they were even here more than we were, and we’re the ones who live here.

Benson was a part of a Hmong community that came here from the country of Laos in Southeast Asia. We spoke often about how someday he wanted to show us his homeland and take us to Thailand. Benson has farmed his entire life, and specifically on this property, where we live, for more than twenty years.

We are blessed to have learned so much from him, and that we were able to become closer over the last three summers.

He always had a snack to share when the girls would come by.

It was my absolute favorite thing that he would cut open ripe cantaloupes, watermelons or whatever he got fresh that day to hand us each a generous slice.

Benson instilled my new found love for red and golden beets. He taught us about ground cherries and always encouraged Kenzie to pick what ever she wanted. For the second half of this season, she even got bold enough to ride her bike back on her own, to the farthest rows to pick fresh veggies into her handlebar basket to bring back for a snack, or dinner, or to fill the farm stand. He introduced us to kohlrabi, which is now a summer stand staple and a family favorite. He, is how we were able to offer a wide variety of vegetables inside our market and stand these past three summers.

Benson exampled a lifestyle and way of hard work that is unsurpassable.

I have never witnessed someone working harder or longer than him and Mai.

He called Sadie, “baby” and it was obvious that she brought him joy. I’ll never forget the first time my heart dropped when I looked up from cutting flowers, and Sadie was no longer sitting on the shaded blanket having snacks under the nearby tree where I left her. I freaked for a minute, looking all around, until I realized from a distance, she went across the field to be by Benson while he was working. And after that first time, it just became the norm. She always wanted to find him and say hi.

She would run up to him and he would scoop her up for a hug and walk her to the nearest crate of whatever vegetables he just picked, and let her grab as many as she could fit in her hands. He would be bent over out in a field row picking beans, peas, etc. and if she came by, he’d always stop to hand her the best looking ones. She still asks to “see what is Benson doing?” when we go out back.

Benson was a great friend to us, and our hearts were shattered when we came home the evening of Saturday, October 29th to flashing lights back on the farm. Benson died suddenly, after suffering a heart attack.

Growing food was his life, and what he did to support his family. He had so much knowledge and experience. What he grew in a season, together with Mai, was truly remarkable. We will forever admire that, and appreciate his time and friendship to our family.

Today is his birthday. And all our thoughts, hopes and prayers are for comfort and peace to Mai and their grieving family.

This has been the most meaningful season of my life because of the impact he had on our seasons growing here. These pictures are some of the views I’ll never forget.