To the editor:

I watched a calf walk down the path to take a bath, and it made me laugh.

This poem was written by a farmer, a man of few words, the late Alvin Elshoff. The poem was used for a school assignment by one of his three children, some 40 + years ago. These words described his view from the window of his home, located on the family farm, founded by his great-grandfather in the 1800’s. A farm that is in jeopardy of being destroyed by the Mid-States Corridor.

In late fall of 2018, Alvin, who was 96, in declining health, was no longer able to tend to the property on his own. December of that year, my boyfriend and I were able to purchase the farmhouse in hopes to preserve and maintain the history of the ground.

Life on the farm is quiet, and serene. Time seems to move a little slower in the country. It’s strange to me that some people will never get to experience this type of tranquility, this type of peace; strange that some people don’t even realize places like this exist, because I couldn’t imagine my life without it.

While Alvin passed away in the summer of 2019, the history of the property and his family legacy lives on. The very house that he was born in still stands. Seated next to the farmhouse is a total of five other barns, all hand built, so many years ago.

With the proposed routes for the Mid-States Corridor revealed, we have learned that our farmhouse sits right in harm’s way. The pavement for the said “superhighway” will be poured right in our front yard. It will destroy our little piece of Dubois County heaven.

As children, we are taught that you cannot take something that doesn’t belong to you. Unfortunately, that is exactly what is happening. How anyone could possibly think of erasing this type of history for their own personal gain, monetary or not, is beyond me.

Please don’t silence the laughter created by the calf walking down the path to take a bath.

—Ashley Rennison
Holland