MPR: Aging Gracefully

The Price
By Erin Galbally
June 2001

Census 2000 confirmed some common perceptions; Main Street is showing its age. A population shift has brought young people into the booming urban economy, a trend that's already producing significant economic effects. As a rural workforce of farmers and factory workers settle into retirement, they are no longer replaced by their children.

George Heidtke, 82, expects to be the last of his family to cultivate the 160 picturesque acres deep in southeastern Minnesota. His children have scattered around the Twin Cities, leaving agriculture firmly behind.

Eighty-two year old George Heidtke's collection of photographs dates back to the 1920s, when his family first began plowing soil on the gentle hills of his Spring Valley farm.

This second-generation farmer, a son of German immigrants, expects to be the last of his family to cultivate the 160 picturesque acres deep in southeastern Minnesota. The land he took over from his father, the farmhouse where he was raised, and where he raised his children, will most likely be absorbed into a neighboring operation. His children have scattered around the Twin Cities, leaving agriculture firmly behind.

Heidtke says he can hardly blame them. After a lifetime of hard work and financial instability, retirement has not been easy. In fact, Heidtke says had he followed the example set by his own siblings, he would now be comfortable with health insurance and a nice pension.

"I have to be honest, I'm the poor one of the bunch because I stayed out here. Whereas they went to IBM and IBM made them," he says.

But a lifetime devotion to one job, even at southeastern Minnesota's largest employers, is on the wane. Just ask Charles Valdahl. Now retired, Valdahl spent his 42-year career at Austin-based Hormel Foods.

"I used to say I worked in a hog kill for 10 years. I was in the miscellaneous boning department and finished up the last 10 years in dry sausage, where I drove a bug at various jobs."

Charlie Valdahl, a second-generation Hormel worker, says he wouldn't encourage his own children to follow his example.

Valdahl, a second-generation Hormel worker, says he wouldn't encourage his own children to follow his example. "I don't think I would. It was physical work. In this day and age, there's better jobs to be had if you've got the smarts and gumption."

According to Minnesota State Economist Tom Stinson, Heidtke and Valdahl's generation was shaped by the legacy of the Great Depression, which gave way to the life-long farmer and the company man.

"The huge unemployment we had coming out of the Depression and the stories of people getting laid off and not being able to find work, had a significant impact on the attitude on a whole generation of workers. For them the issue was job security. They wanted to be in a situation where they felt secure," Stinson says.

But not so their children.

"What that means is that you have a much more fluid labor market. For rural communities what that means you're going to see a less stable population probably over the next few decades. The older people that have lived there all their life are still likely to be there but for younger people who are driven by a combination of quality of life and ability to earn you may see more movement that in the past," according to Stinson.

Austin's local economy continues to be tied to Hormel. In 1999 non-durable goods manufacturing accounted for more than 34 percent of local earnings, representing the county's fastest growing financial sector. And as recent census numbers indicate, the plant has come to depend on a new more diverse workforce.

Both Hispanic and Black populations have increased significantly since 1990. Hispanics now make up six percent of Austin's population, and while blacks account for just under one percent, their presence has more than tripled. Main Street's growing diversity follows employment opportunities no longer pursued by its traditional sons and daughters.

Minnesota state economist Tom Stinson says older people who've lived in rural Minnesota all their life are still likely to remain, but young people may leave at a higher piece.

During his early morning workout at the local YMCA, Charles Valdahl says he no longer knows many people over at the Hormel plant. His children haven't followed in his footsteps. But he points to his exercise partner on the neighboring treadmill and says, "Like Orville and I, we've lived in town all our life. Both worked there and I guess it's just natural that you gravitate towards people and old friendships."

While plants like Hormel have increased employment and production, in Spring Valley the farm economy is on the decline. Federal figures indicate agriculture in the county is suffering. Between 1989 and 1999 Fillmore County's farm economy saw more than five-percent annual loss in earnings.

George Heidtke tries to visit folks at the local nursing home twice a month. It's the same care facility where his wife spent her final years suffering from Alzheimer's.

"It's kind of like home," he says.

The home is filled with old farmers shuffling around after metal walkers or in wheel chairs. Heidtke suspects that some day he'll end up here too - a move that would cost Fillmore County one more farm.

Next: An Independent Bunch

Return to Aging Gracefully Home

	Sign up to receive e-mail newsletters

	Audio help

	Text: Sm : Md : Lg