JERRY WOLKOWITZ Don, Kathy and Alan Patterson (l-r) place plants out for sale on their Howell farm. Farmers and landowners say a proposed rezoning ordinance could negatively affect the equity in their property. The proposal would reduce the number of homes that could be built in certain areas of Howell from one home per 1 and 2 acres to one home per 6 acres. See related story, page 20.
HOWELL — Don Patterson is a fifth-generation farmer. His son, Alan, 29, is waiting in the wings to follow in his father’s footsteps.
The question that keeps Patterson up at night these days is how much of the equity legacy he’s worked for will remain when his son reaches out to accept the torch.
The 70-acre Patterson Greenhouses Farm has been a familiar sight to anyone who has traveled on Route 524. In fact, the land that Patterson’s farm sits on has been owned by a Patterson since 1834 when Austin, Franklin and George rode their bicycles from Freehold every night and on weekends to build the farmhouse where Patterson and his wife, Katherine, have lived since they married — where they raised their five children just as Patterson’s ancestors did.
Patterson’s father, Charles W., took over the 40-acre vegetable farm in 1919. During the Depression he converted the land to a dairy farm. According to Patterson, the market for dairy in this area began to slide in the 1970s, and so, in 1987, after the death of his father, Patterson followed the market indicators and converted the farm into a flower greenhouse farm in 1989, which it remains today.
After 37 years of milking cows, Patterson finally began to use the sun as his time clock rather than the shadow of the wee small hours of the night.
The history of the Patterson family goes back so far that Patterson remembers his grandfather telling him stories of Indians camping out on their land.
His farm sits like a still-life farmland preservation poster misfiled in a stack of real estate advertisements. The acreage is now covered with the colorful fruits of the family’s labor. The pastoral scene stretches far behind the farmhouse. But to the left and across the street? Houses, rows and rows of them.
As one witnesses the workings and mechanics of the farm and then turns to the sound of the county highway, one is startled momentarily by the sudden shift back into the reality of the year 2001.
Patterson has difficulty comprehending the fact that there is an element of dissension among neighbors and township officials lately. He operates his farm and his lifestyle from a mind-set that may be foreign to the majority of residents surrounding him.
Honesty, trust and helping one another are not merely terms he uses loosely in his vocabulary — they are his creed. In fact, he’s maintained a practice over the years that some people may find ludicrous. The family rarely leaves the farm together. Patterson laughed as he revealed that "eight hours away from the farm is termed a vacation."
A can sits in the same place it has always — under a large shade tree in the front yard. It’s there for folks to place their money for purchases when the Pattersons are not home.
Patterson, who is almost 70 years old, has seen many changes over the years in both the landscape and the once-vibrant farming community.
"Years ago people would talk to each other," Patterson said. "Now, no one has the time anymore. Years ago I had to be in the barn by 3 a.m. to milk the cows. Some days we’d be done by 11 a.m. and have time to visit other farms."
Not so today.
Fifteen-hour days are a given and, according to area farmers, the element of neighborly connection is virtually gone.
Patterson told Greater Media News-papers that over the years he’s had to add new items to his market just to keep the farm "afloat." This has meant more time working and less time connecting with others.
"Our season is extended now from March to December," Katherine Patterson explained. "We started growing mums which took us into the fall, then we added Christmas trees."
Hay and straw, according to Katherine, are maintained all year.
Don Patterson has also had to maintain part-time work over the years, needing the extra income to keep the farm operational.
Patterson’s oldest son, Alan, said he sees before him a community which doesn’t understand the ways of farmers.
Don Patterson interjected here and said that "only the best farmers are left." The rest have either sold because they had to or because it was too difficult to maintain a way of life that simply didn’t exist for them anymore. The best have held on and now they fear that holding out may mean giving it all up.
Patterson isn’t giving up. Neither are his wife, his son Alan, or the other four children to whom this farm has always been home, Cindy, 28; Richard, 26; Sharron, 23; and David, 21.
But if an ordinance proposed by the Township Council is adopted at a special meeting to be held at Howell Middle School North on Aug. 13, Patterson and his family, as well as many other Howell farmers and landowners, may stand to lose a great part of what they say they have rightfully earned.
Patterson said he received a letter from the township informing him of a proposed zoning change. This notice prompted farmers to take a step back in time as they began knocking on each other’s doors in an attempt to form an alliance to stop what they said is an ordinance that could reduce their land equity so much that it could literally put them out of business.
Patterson, who is a senior member of the Howell Farmers Advisory Committee, said farmers were disappointed that no township official accepted an invitation to come and meet with the group to discuss the plan.
If adopted, the ordinance would change ARE-1 and ARE-2 zoning to ARE-6 on all properties north and south of Elton-Adelphia Road (Route 524) between Route 9 and Yellowbrook Road with some modifications made to the original ordinance introduced pertaining to the proposed ARE-2 zone. Casino Drive and West Farms Road is the southern boundary of the proposed zoning change.
The property rezoning will reduce the number of homes that can be built in these areas from one home per 1 and 2 acres to one home per 6 acres.
A farmer’s land is only as valuable as a developer claims it is. This value carries over to a bank, a loan company, an equipment merchandiser. If their land is devalued, then, according to the farmers, the domino effect will come into play. Less borrowing power will yield less ability to operate their farm business and grow their crops. Without the ability to operate at peak level, they say they will lose their business.
Area farmers say they need to keep their equity — through zoning — not to sell the farm but to have the ability to stay a farmer and keep the farm operating as a farm.
"We’re not holding out for a higher price [from a developer]," Alan Patterson said. "We’re holding on because this is what we do."
Don Patterson said he doesn’t want any more residential growth in the area either. But, on the other hand, if a farmer has to sell, Patterson said it is, in fact, his right to do so, isn’t it?
Instead of seeing this fact as truth, farmers say township officials and the community in general see it as their nemesis, a disaster waiting to happen.
Patterson said he never had any intention of ever selling any piece of his land until 1987, when his father died.
When the inheritance tax came due, there was no way to pay the tax and keep up the farm without selling the 85-acre parcel of land behind his farm which is now known as the Country Meadows housing development.
"And not all new neighbors take kindly to the realities of farming life either," Alan Patterson said. "They like to look at it, they like having it as their back yard, but they don’t like hearing, seeing or smelling what must be done in order to keep it maintained, operational and beautiful."
Alan Patterson said it has always been his intention to make the farm his livelihood just as his father has done. He wants to build a house and raise his children on this land, just as his family has always done.
"There’s no way Alan can possibly achieve his goals and dreams if this proposed rezoning takes effect," Don Patterson confided.
It will be impossible, according to Patterson, for his son to afford to build a house, pay taxes on the possible 6 acres it will have to sit on and run the farm as well.
So, does the chain stop here?
Don Patterson wants to know.
Will he, in fact, be able to hand over the legacy he and his wife have worked so hard for over the years? And whether or not that legacy will be a blessing or an anchor may be dependent on the results of the council’s upcoming decision.
The whole scenario seems to place the farmers in a Catch-22 situation. They say they are damned if they sell their farms because then they are termed the "bad guys" for only claiming what they say is their pension, their children’s college funds, their life’s savings. And they feel they are damned if they hold out because, they say, each year brings them closer and closer to extinction, depending on who is running the town.
Farmers say they are dinosaurs and now those dinosaurs are caught in a web of what some people will see as progress and other people will see as a shame.

