Established in 1925, the Prairie Farmer Master Farmer Award Program is the oldest farmer recognition program in the country. It was founded to honor farmers — and now, farm couples — who exhibit outstanding production practices and who give of their time and talents to support their communities, schools and families, and the agricultural industry.

Since 1925, about 337 individuals and couples have been named Master Farmers in Illinois.

And even after nearly 50 years, the award carries significance for the farmers who earned it. “It was unexpected,” says John Ammon, Winslow, who was named a Master Farmer in 1969. “It really meant a lot to me.” 

175 YEARS: Celebrating Prairie Farmer, 1841-2016

Today, the 90-year-old farmer still follows the Master Farmer program closely and attends the award ceremony when possible.

Conservation is a high priority for Ammon; he’s worked with the same family to cash-rent his farm for 20 years because of how they care for his land. “They do a top-notch job conservation-wise. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be together,” he says. 

That same passion for the land resonates with Eddie Gilmore and Allen Hoffman, who were also named Master Farmers in 1969. They are both still active on the farm, but in different ways.

Gilmore’s two sons manage the family farm near Paw Paw. At 84 years old, Gilmore leaves the decision-making to his sons, but he still runs the combine or grain cart in the fall and helps out whenever he can. He also stays on top of all the fast-paced changes in agriculture by reading farm magazines.

A LOOK BACK: This Prairie Farmer cover is announcing the Master Farmer Class of 1969. “It was quite an honor I never expected; it totally surprised me,” says Eddie Gilmore, as he thinks back to his Master Farmer nomination in 1969. “I never thought I’d be nominated — not many farmers get it. I’m not sure I deserved it, but someone else thought I did.”

Gilmore notes how equipment has evolved over the years — from battling the elements in an open cab to comfortably combining a field in minutes, which would have taken a day to finish with equipment from 50 years ago. “I heard Dad talk about hand-picking corn,” he says. “I’m glad I missed that part.”

And what about today’s GPS-guided systems? “They’re something I never even dreamed of,” Gilmore says.

Hoffman, who farms near Gardner, agrees. “With computers and automatic GPS systems, we do a better job of staying on the mark,” he says. “Would you ever think we’d be as advanced as we are today? My grandfather would have never believed this.”

Equipment isn’t the only major evolution in agriculture. Ammon remembers the shift from hogs in the field to lots and finally to confinements. Today, his sons are phasing out their custom-feeding operation. Hoffman also phased out his layer hen, hog and cattle operation several years ago to focus on corn and soybeans.

Hoffman and Gilmore agree there's been one major change above all others over the last 40 to 50 years: grain marketing.

“When I first started in 1959, if you had a 10-cent move from harvest to March, that was really wonderful,” explains Hoffman.

“We used to think a half-cent or a penny change in a corn price was a big move,” Gilmore says. “Now, you have multiple-cent changes. Marketing is much more difficult.”

The dramatic market swings are one factor Hoffman says the next generation should pay close attention to. “When you’re young, you’re always pushing and pushing. You want to do better, and that’s a good thing,” he says. “But you have to have some restraint, too. Sometimes you hold on to corn too long, waiting for the price to go up to sell. But it doesn’t always go back up.”

Gilmore says staying on top of marketing, working under cash rent agreements where the operator carries the risk and adjusting to a constantly evolving industry are just a few of several reasons why he believes farming is more stressful today than it used to be.

“The physical work may be easier, but the stress level is higher,” he says.

Looking back, Hoffman believes the ability to learn and evolve is all part of farming. “God could have given us all this knowledge from the start, but we gain a little bit all the time,” he says. “The way I look at it, a farmer could rewrite a book every year — with the things he did this year, the things he planned on doing and the things that changed.”

But the key is to learn and move on. And sometimes, Hoffman says, you learn from the mistakes you make, and that’s OK, too. “You think you’re doing your best, but things don’t always work out,” he notes. “It just happens.”

You learn, you remember, and you move on.