The Farmer's Friends

For Vernon Richter, the joy of farming had vanished; life on a 4OO-acre rented farm near Fergus Falls, Minn, had become a grim effort to survive. Through the freezing winter Richter, 31, cared for his six small children so that his wife could clerk in a Fergus Falls clothing store. When spring came he went into his fields at 4 a.m., stayed until midnight fighting the soil for a fuller yield. But the bills piled up.

Richter, never in trouble before, decided in his desperation to rob a bank. He stole a set of license tags, bought a shotgun and sawed it off, drove 70 miles to Ulen, Minn., a town he had never seen. In raincoat and hat bought as a disguise, he tramped into the tiny Northwestern State Bank twice to case it, nervously returned a third time with the shotgun. He ordered Assistant Cashier Paul Ormbreck to stuff money into a paper sack, dashed out with $1,158, after trussing up Ormbreck and a teller with sash cord and gagging them with dirty rags. Richter returned to the farm, paid up $400 worth of bills, tucked away the remaining loot between the walls of a grain bin. Two days later he went to a neighbor's farm to help shear sheep, returned to find police waiting. Said he sadly: "Bank robbing just isn't my line."

Last week, out on bail awaiting trial, and in seclusion on the farm, Vernon Richter cocked his ear at the sound of tractors, looked out to find 30 men with 20 tractors arriving from nearby farms. While his neighbors helped him plow 100 acres and seed them with corn and soybeans, 15 women spread a potluck lunch, had a friendly good time. The plowing done, Richter tried to thank his departing neighbors, but broke down. Said Farmer Harold Hearstad: "He's a nice fellow and a good worker. He just worked too hard."

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