Evenings had turned cool, and the call of the whippoorwill came sharp and insistent across fields fat with Indiana's richest harvest in years. At Walter Barbour's 232-acre farm outside Indianapolis, baskets of sun-ripened peaches and big red tomatoes crowded the fruit sheds. In the orchards, the trees sagged under the weight of their reddening apples. Barbour had no idea how many bushels hung on the trees: "All I know is that there couldn't be any more apples in there than what's on the trees right now."
Corn, soybeans, alfalfa, wheat, cattle and hogs—everything...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
