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Back in the nineties, I was selling agricultural products across the Mid-Atlantic for one of those Fortune 500 companies. In sales, we had two golden rules. Don’t talk religion. Don’t talk politics. Not unless you really know who you’re talking to. One wrong word and you’d poison the whole deal. Out here, we call that taintin’ the well.
One fall afternoon outside Charlottesville, I was leaned up against a John Deere talking cattle prices with a farmer. He was sitting on the tailgate of a dusty Chevy, radio playing low, when a political ad came on. He reached over, turned the volume down, gave me a look, and said:
"Sonny, you know what’s wrong with government nowadays?"
The man reminded me of my Papaw. Depression-tough. Fought in World War II. Came home and went straight to farming. Papaw used to say, "After having Nazis shoot at you for three years, it’s hard to take a boss-man seriously when he’s hollering about time sheets."
This farmer lit a cigar and said, "The problem? Too many big city lawyers. Nobody with dirt under their nails writing laws that affect the rest of us. We need diversity. Not just skin color or gender. I mean real diversity. People who have worked. People who have lived."
He waved his cigar like he’d said it a hundred times.
"Take the farm bill. Even if they wanted to write a good one, they couldn’t. Because there ain’t a real farmer in Congress. So they go ask the lobbyists."
No nurses in the room when they write healthcare bills. No truckers when they draft transportation laws. Just lawyers and lifers who have never run anything but their mouths.
"Now imagine a Congress with farmers, welders, carpenters, EMTs. A real Congress of working people. Not just suits. You’d get bills that worked. Bills that were twenty pages long, not two thousand."
Then he gave me the closer.
"You know why it’s all lawyers?"
I shook my head.
"Because that’s the only job in America where you got both the time and the money to run. You and me? We’re working. They’ve got clerks back at the office and interns running their show. They can fax in a signature from the bar."
That conversation stuck with me. Nearly thirty years later, it still rings true. But now, something is starting to shift. Maybe, just maybe, the Democratic Party is fixin’ its rural and occupational diversity problem. Even if it’s doing it by accident.
America has always leaned on its farmers in times of change and challenge. Texas is no different. And right now, the challenges are plenty.
That’s why Bobby Cole is running for Governor of Texas.
He’s a retired firefighter and rancher. A man who built a thriving operation in Wood County. A thousand acres. Three hundred head of cattle. Over a million chickens a year that help feed the country. He’s created jobs, grown food, raised a family, and kept faith with the land and his neighbors.
Bobby’s not running because he needs the job. He’s running because Texas needs him.
After years of Republican control, Texas families are drowning in high property taxes, unaffordable healthcare, neglected schools, and a government that listens to billionaires instead of working people.
Bobby is running for the folks who keep this state running. Farmers. Teachers. Truck drivers. Nurses. Parents. Small business owners. His campaign is rooted in service, not ego. Community before politics. Grit over gimmicks. #NxtGenDems
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Up in Maine, a Farmer’s Raising Hell
That there’s Graham Platner. Oyster farmer. Iraq and Afghanistan vet. Firearms instructor. Rural Mainer. He’s taking on Susan Collins and calling out Chuck Schumer in the same breath.
Platner isn’t interested in labels. He’s interested in results. He wants Medicare-For-All healthcare, an end to endless wars, and a government that listens to working people instead of lobbyists.
These next generation candidates aren’t your typical Democrats. That’s exactly the point. It’s what America needs at this time of crisis. #NxtGenDems
Maybe the cavalry isn’t coming in a motorcade. Maybe it’s showing up in pickups and work boots.
That’s the kind of diversity that could save the Democratic Party. And maybe even the country.
Till next time, that’s the story from the Back Forty.
— John W. Peace II
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John W. Peace II is a fifth-generation farmer from Big Stone Gap, Virginia, where he grew up on his family’s dairy, Clinch Haven Farms, and still lives today farming hay and beef cattle. He’s a proud father to Trey and Shelby Peace, and partner in life to Cathy Swinney. A Virginia Tech graduate with graduate studies at Penn State, he served as the youngest Chair of the Wise County Board of Supervisors (2004–2008). John co-owns SafeHavenServices.co and urTOPIX LLC (urTopixLLC.com), a Democratic campaign consulting firm focused on reaching rural voters that is sponsored by www.RuralAmericaRising.com PAC. He’s also a two-time Amazon bestselling author. Learn more at www.JohnWPeace.com.