Righteous Wrath Down on the Farm

By Sylvester Monroe/Oxford, N.C.

Back in 1985, as Phillip J. Barker was chopping down trees to build a lounging shed for his dairy cows, one tree fell the wrong way and broke his neck. Doctors told him he would never walk again. But the gritty little farmer--just over five feet tall--refused to accept that prognosis. Within seven days he regained feeling in his limbs. And after 18 months of rehabilitation he was back at work on his 300-acre dairy farm here, about 40 miles northeast of Durham.

The despair of temporary paralysis paled, however, compared with the anguish Barker felt in late 1997, when all but 20 acres of the farm he had owned for more than 15 years were auctioned off following what he contends was an illegal foreclosure. "It was one of the worst days of my life," says Barker, 50. "It was like losing two or three children all at once."

Once again, the father of five refused to give up. "Just because one thing throws you back, it doesn't mean that it throws you out," says Barker. For him it has been a lot more than one thing. In 1987 he lost half his herd of 100 Holsteins to a blood disease; four years later, after years of struggling to get loans for feed and basic upkeep of the farm, he had to sell the remaining cows and give up on dairy farming. For a time, Barker grew and sold tobacco to keep the farm and support his family. Even when he lost most of his acreage after the government and other creditors finally forced him into bankruptcy two years ago, he bounced back--putting together a cooperative with other destitute black farmers to grow and process sweet potatoes and other vegetables.

Earlier this month, Barker's fight to reclaim the land--now dotted with red FOR SALE signs and yellow NO TRESPASSING signs--got a boost. The U.S. Department of Agriculture agreed to settle a 1997 class action that had accused the agency of denying black farmers loans and crop subsidies routinely available to white farmers. The landmark agreement requires the government to pay as much as $375 million to more than 3,500 black farmers. Most will probably accept the basic option guaranteeing a $50,000 tax-free payment and retirement of any government debts, which average about $175,000.

But for many, including Barker, the settlement may be way too little and way too late to reverse the damage done by decades of institutional racism. Black farmers now own less than 1% of the farmland in the U.S.; at the turn of the century that figure was 14%. In 1920 nearly 1 million black farmers tilled American soil; 70 years later, that number had dropped to fewer than 20,000.

"They took too much from me to be playing around with $50,000," says Barker from the porch of the rundown farmhouse with the peeling paint and the rusted tin roof.

Instead, citing losses over the years of more than $3 million and $660,000 in current debt, he and his wife Dorathy intend to throw the dice in a one-day minitrial before a mediator. They'll come armed with numerous loan applications denied by the Federal Services Administration, and other loan requests that weren't even considered in the 14 years before Barker finally secured his first loan.

The Barkers will also challenge that 1997 sale of 280 acres of their farm at auction to local real estate developer Ossie Smith. They contend that local officials denied their eldest son, Phillip R., the right to purchase the farm at its appraised price after the foreclosure--even though he had the financing to do so. They also claim that Smith bulldozed the grave of Dorathy's father on the property--despite a court-ordered stay pending outcome of the class action. Smith refuses to comment on the allegation.

The Barkers are happy about the acknowledgment of government wrongdoing, but they feel a long way from whole. "We were at the point where we felt like there was just no justice," says Dorathy. "The greatest loss of all is the breakup of our family." The Barker children were forced off the land on which they had lived all their life--land on which they had hoped to set up various businesses, including a family dairy, day-care center and beauty parlor.

"And the thing that I hate the most," says Dorathy, "is that the same people who committed these acts are still in place, and they will retire in these jobs without even so much as a reprimand."

Says Barker: "I don't know if we'll get the land back, but Mr. Smith is going to know he's got a fight on his hands. If they had sold the farm legally, I could move on. But there is no way I can leave with this thing unresolved. We had a right to this land, and we're not through farming."