For over two decades, J & J Farms stood alone as the last dairy farm in Amherst. Many other small New England dairies shuttered as the economy shifted even more in favor of mega-dairies, but the Waskiewicz family held on, milking cows while also growing vegetables on around 130 acres. It was an operation run with equal parts skill and optimism. In the end, only a natural disaster could derail it.
Last June, lightning struck the back corner of one of their barns, setting it alight. The fire spread quickly, engulfing two barns and shooting flames into the nearby home where 93-year-old patriarch Joseph Waskiewicz Sr. was resting. He made it safely across the street, but even as his children, neighbors, and first responders did their best, all he could do was watch as the blaze consumed the farm buildings. As they went up in smoke, so too did several lifetimes worth of memories and equipment that had been passed down for generations. None of them could truly be replaced.
Luckily, no people or cows were lost that day, but life would be forever different for all of them. Within hours, other local dairy farmers had volunteered to rehome the entire herd, a move that soon became permanent. Meanwhile, Josephโs sons, Joe Jr. and Mike, and daughter, Jane Suprenant, were left to ponder how their six-generation family farm would rebuild, if at all.
A year later, the siblings are still figuring out what the future of J & J Farms looks like, but one thing is certain: it will have a future. And despite the tragic events forcing them to reinvent the family business, they seem to approach this new chapter with both gratitude and positivity. Maybe thatโs one reason their community has offered such tremendous support along the way.
That fateful fire tore at the very foundation of J & J Farms in many ways. For starters, milking cows had long been the heart of their daily routine. It had offered consistent income and a sense of identity and pride to care for Amherstโs last dairy herd. All of that was gone in an instant.
โEverything we did revolved around the cows and milking in the morning and evening,โ says Joe Waskiewicz. โWhen they suddenly werenโt there, we didnโt know how to carry on our day.โ
Adds Mike Waskiewicz, โThat was also when the milk check stopped coming. The milk prices werenโt that great, but it was consistent pay every two weeks.โ
โMy dad always said, those cows are what held the farm together,โ Suprenant recalls. Less than a month later, the man who spoke those words would pass away too. In Joe Waskiewiczโs words, โafter seeing what happened, it seemed like he didnโt want to participate in life anymore. That was the most important loss. Our leader was gone.โ
These mounting losses were undeniably crushing. Yet almost at once, acts of kindness began to pour in, offering relief, stability, and reassurance that their community cared and wanted them to succeed.
By the next day, one of their customers started a GoFundMe page hoping to raise $50,000 to help them rebuild. Donations quickly surged past that goal and soon almost tripled it.
โThat came as a shock,โ says Suprenant. โWe knew how much the community mattered to us, be we had no idea how much we mattered to them.โ
Local businesses lent storage containers, machinery to clean up the debris, and even a porta-potty. Neighbors near and far dropped off hand tools, power tools, and other things they had lost.
โSo many things just appeared here,โ says Suprenant. โThereโs been no way to really thank everyone, but we wish we could.โ
Meanwhile, several organizations that support local farms stepped in with resources, advice and referrals. Community Involved in Sustaining Agriculture, American Farmland Trust, New England Consulting Services and the Massachusetts Department of Agricultural Resources continue to help J & J Farms chart their future today.
The GoFundMe money covered part of the cost of a new barn for housing farm equipment and processing vegetables, which is almost complete. Work continues to make the house livable again. While putting the physical pieces back together, the siblings are also working out how the farm business can continue to thrive without the dairy cows.
One answer might be raising beef cattle and selling beef straight to their loyal following of farm stand customers. Today, a small test herd can be seen lounging in the shadier parts of their pastures. Another might be expanding their cut flower business. Currently they sell stems to florists, bouquets at the farm stand, and Suprenant arranges flowers for special occasions like weddings and bridal showers. Another strategy might be selling more produce, planting more and extending their season by growing under hoop houses.
One thing that will be crucial to J & J Farmsโ success is strong sales at their farm stand at 324 Meadow St. in Amherst. From May through November, they sell a wide range of produce from asparagus to zucchini. Now in July, their โsuper sweetโย corn is undeniably the best seller.
After such a personal and financial tragedy, maybe other farmers would have packed up their tools, sold what they could, and called it a day. But not the Waskiewiczs. What is it that drives them to persevere and see their farm reborn? Perhaps the truth is that, despite how much the fire took, it couldnโt shake their sense of purpose.
As Suprenant tells it, โI first thought farming was expected of us. Then I realized it was my choice. I just love working with the land. All of us have tried something different over the years, but we all returned to farming.โ
Mike Waskiewicz is direct, saying simply, โThis is what we do. Weโre stewards of the land. Weโre farmers, and we want to keep feeding people. So when people shop here and are loyal customers, that means a lot to us.โ
Jacob Nelson is communications coordinator for CISA (Community Involved in Sustaining Agriculture). To learn more about whatโs in season at local farm stands near you, visit buylocalfood.org

