Life on the farm doesn’t have to be so lonely…

Rural support group helping older farmers to ‘plough on’, writes Emmet McElhatton

Isolation and loneliness has always been one of the darker facets of the farming way of life.

However, while in years gone by, notions of pride and stoicism ensured that each farmer kept these feelings a secret unto himself, these days the agricultural community has begun to come to terms with the fact that loneliness seems to be something of an occupational hazard.

In recognition of this reality, farming charity, Rural Support, started a project called ‘Plough On’, aimed at relieving rural isolation by bringing older farmers together.

“The project has been a big success,” said Mervyn Smyth, the Plough On group leader in Newtownstewart.

“Since we have been going, we have managed to coax quite a few local farmers out of the house for the first time since before the pandemic.

“I am telling you, when you get a group of farmers – them all aged between 65 and 90 – into a room together, you want to see that for a bit of craic.”

We recently met Mervyn near a crossroads in Drumlegagh, from which point he took us to the houses of two men who have been ‘ploughing on’ for the last few years.

“I will take you to see two boys that have been with us for a while. One is still working away, the other is retired.”

But, before we arrived at the first house, Mervyn explained a few important things.

“Farmers are very proud people, you know, and many of them don’t like talking about loneliness or mental health, but that doesn’t mean they don’t understand it or suffer from it themselves.

“The long hours, early mornings and solitary nature of the work means that it is not unusual that a farmer might go months without spending time with anybody outside their immediate family… That is if they are lucky enough to have a family.”

One of the big problems for retired farmers is not necessarily the newfound free time, but the emptiness that can come along with it.

“When men retire and have no work to keep them occupied anymore, this can have serious consequences for their mental health. But if you give them like-minded people to talk to, you notice a big difference.”

‘One-man job’

On that note, we knocked on the door of James McCrossan’s house.

Fresh-faced with a spring in his step, it was obvious why the 69-year-old had not decided to hang up his wellies quite yet. With his smooth skin and broad smile, he looked like an advertisement for clean air and healthy living.

“I have been a sheep farmer since I left school in 1969 at the age of 15,” began James, his wife leaning against the worktop listening intently, Mervyn sitting at the table with us.

“There were three other sons in the family, but I was the one that decided to stay. The rest of them went off and got educated, went to university and all got good jobs. They were sitting smiling, but I decided to go into the farming; this place here has been in the McCrossan name since my grandfather bought it in 1900.”

Where most other forms of work are best performed collectively and are therefore inherently social, running a farm is often a one-man job.

“At times it can be lonely, because you are on your own all the time. I have one son, he works over in Bristol, and I have a daughter, and she works over in Australia.

“It isn’t always lonely, but it can be. Thankfully, I have my wife here with me and I have the dogs when I am out in the fields.”

However, despite having his family, animals and health, James nevertheless appreciates the value of Plough On.

“One of the worst things to ever happen for older farmers was the pandemic.

“Boys used to go to the mart and meet up at the canteen for a chat, but the restaurants never reopened after the pandemic. For many fellas, that was the only place they got chatting to people. When that was taken away, some older farmers got totally depressed. But that is why Plough On is great. The group has helped me a lot and I know I am not the only one.”

Before we left James’ house to take the winding, rural road to our next, he told us how he had spent his morning before we arrived.

“I am part of a befriending group, you know, so I was chatting to seven different people there this morning, ones who live alone and wouldn’t really have anyone else to chat to.

“Of all the people I spoke to this morning, not one had been out of the house in the last four days. That is not good. The amount of people that are out there, alone and suffering, is unreal. You need to talk to people. I have always been a great chatter.

“You should never underestimate the good you can do for somebody by sitting down and talking with them.”