October 6, 2000

Sharing the pain...

As agriculture suffers, so do the rural communities of Texas

Spotty stands of cotton are common across much of
West Texas this year
due to lack of rain.

By Gene Hall
Publisher

Ballinger is, in most ways, a typical West Texas town. Straddling U.S. Highway 67 about 35 miles northeast of San Angelo, in Runnels County, Ballinger was born in 1886 to provide a community for the farm and ranch families that settled on the fertile soils near the Colorado River.

Ballinger has grown and prospered, but one thing has not changed. The economy and the people who live here, no matter their occupation, depend a great deal on agriculture. Agriculture is clearly hurting, and Ballinger, like thousands of small towns in Texas, feels the pain.

The first strike against Ballinger and the farmers and ranchers who live here is drought. This year, only nine inches of rain has fallen in the area, and two-thirds of that came on one June night. The worst of it is, this year is very much like four of the last five years. Only 1997 saw anything like normal rainfall. That is an extended drought to rival the legendary dry spell of the fifties, the benchmark against which all Texas droughts are measured. "It's been pretty much of a struggle," says Leroy Pelzel, who pushed his plow through both periods. "I never failed to get a crop going in the fifties, but that's not the case this year. We never covered the ground enough to speak of."

John Lange runs the John Deere dealership here. The drought means that few tractors, combines and cotton pickers are rolling in the Colorado River Valley. Lange has sold few pieces of new equipment. Even worse, the lack of activity has limited his important service business. It's enough to make Lange wonder and worry about his business and the future of Ballinger. "There is a lot of agricultural production in Runnels County and agriculture is a major player in the future success of Ballinger," he says, with just a hint of concern.

Strike two against Ballinger is the low price situation for virtually every farm commodity produced here. Dollars in the pockets of farm and ranch families translate into economic activity in every store in town. The absence of those dollars is being felt. "It's hard to be optimistic," says Phil Springer, local banker and Chamber of Commerce leader. "When you go four of five years without making a crop, it affects your income. People have to rely on crop insurance, go out and get other jobs and it hurts your economy because the dollars aren't turning over. It's a very negative effect."

Springer says you see all the things you might expect, like making the old pickup last another year, or squeezing another planting season out of a tractor that has seen better days. It hurts on the farm, and in town, too. New cars, new shoes and college savings are all, to some degree, "on hold" in Ballinger's drought-ravaged economy.

Bill Bredemeyer farms near Ballinger and the small community of Winters. Moisture is precious here, and that's something farmers expect and manage for. "We have to look at being always short of rainfall," he explains. "Texas is always a little on the droughty side, but we hope its not always going to be to this severe extent."

Bredemeyer says the persistently low commodity prices are an equally severe problem. "We're dealing with depression era prices in the year 2000 and with all our other expenses, the economy is leaving agriculture in the dust. Our nation is going to have to take a serious look at that."

This young producer is a cattleman, too, but his pastures resemble a moonscape. Bare ground dominates, with only sparse patches of brown grass and mesquite dotting the sameness of the uncovered soil. In a normal year, he runs about 130 head of mother cows. Now, only a couple dozen are left. If it does not rain by November, these too will be gone. For now, he feeds them, and that is costly.

This part of Texas has always been a leader in livestock production. The months of drought have taken their toll, however. Herds of cattle, sheep and goats are disappearing down a trail that leads to local livestock auctions, as grass dwindles in the parched pastures.

Jeremy McCollom runs a feed and livestock supplies business just off the courthouse square in Ballinger. Like his customers, he has scaled back his inventory in an effort to stay apace of lean times. He knows his customers are hauling water and drilling wells in an attempt to save their herds.

McCollum's situation is a two-edged sword. It's true that surviving livestock producers must buy feed from him, but there are far fewer of them. "There's anywhere from 10 to 20 percent of livestock numbers left in the area," the businessman says. Rebuilding the herds that his feed store depends on is still very much an unanswered question—one that few ranchers will answer until it rains. "It will be expensive to get back into it," he predicts.

It might be overstating the case to say that Ballinger and the smaller communities around it are "on the brink." Small industries have located here and provided badly needed diversification. Agriculture, however, is still paramount. It is the identity and the primary economic engine of towns like Ballinger, scattered over the rural landscape of Texas. John Lange said it in a yard full of unsold, green tractors: "Without agriculture, there wouldn't be much left... not much left at all."

Looking at the parched and cracked soil of Runnels County, strike three, the loss of agriculture, is certainly something to think about.