Wheat harvest in the Horse Heaven Hills: ‘We take care of each other’

In the immense wheat fields of the Horse Heaven Hills, neighbors estimate distance in miles, with the nearest house a faint smudge on the horizon.

But help is never far away, thanks to texting. No more driving into fields. No more radios, no more patchy phone conversations.

“Modern technology is really good for farmers, though my husband doesn’t like it much,” said Lillian Smith, married to Steve Smith Jr. for 52 years.

Many things have changed since his father bought land in 1936, built his house in 1938 and married that same year. But many things have not.

Family still comes first for dryland wheat farmers. They still offer assistance and guidance to their fellow farmers on things tangible and emotional. They know the struggles that come with the life.

“Farmers have to rely on each other. Here, it’s like ... sometimes you need a part,” said Anthony Wiley, recent Prosser High School graduate and future Ohio State University freshman. “You need advice ... you’ve got a problem with one of your fields.

“Helping each other is really big.”

Few times reinforce that quite like harvest in its final stretch. Since the days of homestead claims on 160 acres, they’ve known enough about each other to provide help, even when it’s not sought.

“Community and farmers, you don’t have one without the other. That’s what we do — we take care of each other,” said Anthony’s mother, Rachelle Wiley. Husband Jason farms and manages 6,000 acres.

The Wileys and the Smiths are among about two dozen families who grow dryland wheat in the Horse Heaven Hills, many for decades. Steve Smith Sr. was 10 when his family moved from East Helena, Mont., to Prosser in 1918. His parents were immigrants.

“That’s grandpa’s house,” Lillian said as she gestured toward an adjacent single-story wooden structure just past a long row of sunflowers.

She married into the Smith family at age 20. A Yakima County girl who met her husband at Yakima Valley Junior College, Lillian wanted to major in art but took business classes at her mother’s behest. Lillian and Steve have lived in the same house at the end of a half-mile driveway for 51 years.

“A lot of times you got very lonely,” she said. “But Steve had a lot of brothers and sisters, and so there was always a lot of family stuff going on.”

Babies came — Stephen, Katie, Jenny and Tony, born on his mother’s birthday. He’s 45 and works with his father in farming and managing about 6,500 acres. “There’s always something to do” on a farm, said Tony, who lives in Richland and commutes to the country. He gets up just before 5 every morning.

Tony learned how to drive a combine at age 14, before he could drive a car. He worked at Columbia Crest Winery for several years after high school while helping his father and his uncle on the farm. Now he’s back there full time.

With two combines, he and his dad can cut 150 acres a day. Tony enjoys working with his not-quite-retired dad and seeing his family. He stays in a pop-out trailer next to his parents’ house when he’s too tired to drive home.

“It’s just kinda branded in me, genetics,” Tony said. “The more you do it, the more you love it.”

And in a place where no one lives a short walk away, they still know their neighbors better than those who live much closer to one another.

“Around here, everyone gets along pretty well. For the most part, everyone’s pretty good to each other,” Anthony Wiley said.

Anthony, 18, grew up on a farm, lives on a farm and works on a farm. But he doesn’t consider himself a farmer.

“I live on the farm and I’ve experienced the farm lifestyle, but I’m not in the field enough to be a farmer. My dad’s the farmer,” Anthony said.

He didn’t wear boots, belt buckles and plaid shirts to school, like some kids who live in town. That bugged him because it’s not just an outfit you wear every now and then.

“You’ve gotta live it. ... You can’t just show up one summer and drive a combine and say, ‘Hey, I’m a farmer now,’ ” Anthony said. “There’s good years and there’s bad years. You don’t just jump in there.

“... It’s hard work. It’s contributing. It’s helping out when you can. Then with the community, it’s looking out for the people around you,” he said.

Anthony leaves for school in two weeks, off to the Midwest for a major in agricultural engineering.

“Too soon,” his mother said as she rinsed strawberries.

Oldest sibling Jessica and older brother Chris “Bubba” are already on their own. Then there’s Johnny, 5, called “Johnnycakes” or “Johnny Popper.”

Anthony knows the farm but has other work in mind. Someone will continue the Wiley way of life, he said.

“It probably won’t be me, but if it has to be me, I’m prepared to do that (to keep) the farm in the family,” he added.

This story was originally published August 11, 2016 at 1:16 AM with the headline "Wheat harvest in the Horse Heaven Hills: ‘We take care of each other’."