Snuffed Out of Livelihood, Tobacco Farmers Starting Over

Brantford Expositor-Delhi, Ont. The Godelies are working to create a life after tobacco. Their experience shows there's no easy way out for Ontario's remaining growers. Rene Godelie glances toward an aerial photograph hanging from the kitchen wall in his farmhouse in the Delhi area just west of Simcoe, Ont. It's a picture of his 35-hectare property in better days, fields full of robust tobacco, a crop that sustained his family for three generations. "I should remove that picture because it bothers me," Godelie says. "We still want to farm. It's in your heart. It's in your being. But what's the point? It's pretty bad when you're worrying if you're going to have money for groceries." Godelie, 42, quit growing tobacco in 2005, forced out of the industry by a shrinking market for his crop and financial losses. He and his wife Christine, 43, say there's "not a chance" they will ever grow tobacco again. "I just want to get out, move on to the next stage of life," Godelie says. Alternative While the family has tried growing alternative crops, they say none have presented a viable business opportunity. Financial problems caused by the decline of tobacco forced Godelie to seek an off-farm job three years ago, when he began apprenticing as a tool-and-die maker. A need to make ends meet also forced Christine to look for off-farm work. Today, she is training to become a chef. With six children, ranging in age from 13 months to 19 years, the couple says the financial pressures caused by tobacco's decline have been enormous, sometimes "like living in hell." It's a feeling many of the provinces's 600 remaining producers can relate to, as they struggle with debt, little income and few ways out of growing a once-lucrative crop. In the Godelies' case, financial problems have affected Rene's health, causing anxiety problems and putting strains on family relationships. The Godelies are about $450,000 in debt, a large chunk of that money borrowed to help keep the family growing tobacco through tough times. In 2002, tobacco growers were asked to make changes to burner technology in their kilns, the buildings where tobacco is cured after it is picked. Changing 15 kilns, including all expenses, cost the Godelies about $100,000. After making the investment, the family believed there would be buyers for its crop. "Once the burners went in, it was a positive change, so we had a little confidence," Christine says. That confidence didn't last long. Even after farmers made changes to their kilns, the tobacco market shrank and prices remained low. Godelie says growers were misled, believing they would have a place to sell their crop after being asked to invest in new technology. "Why would you make the investment if you're not going to be in business?" he says. "You keep being hopeful that there will be a future." For two years after making the kiln change, the Godelies grew 32 to 36 hectares of tobacco each season. The family aimed to maximize production so it might turn a profit, a plan that included the purchase of a $100,000 harvester that would allow the farm to operate with three employees instead of its usual eight. During those two seasons, the Godelies were share-growing 10 to 12 hectares of tobacco with a neighbouring farmer as part of their overall production. A share-growing arrangement means growers split the costs of producing a crop and share the money once it is sold. When the neighbour decided to get out of tobacco and sell his quota, which is a farmer's production allotment, it left the Godelies with a considerably smaller crop. "That threw our game plan out," Godelie says. "Instead of gaining, we had things that were costing us big-time money." Losing money By 2005, the Godelies were losing more and more money and decided to cut their losses. They haven't grown tobacco since. The family still holds quota to grow more than 114,000 kilograms, but market conditions dictate it would only be able to grow 10 to 12 per cent of that amount this year if seeds were put in the ground. That equals about five hectares worth of tobacco, which would result in a financial loss due to fixed production costs and rising costs for other items, including fuel. "You get tired of losing money," Godelie says. "You get to the point where you say, 'That's enough money lost."' When things started to look bad for the Godelies' tobacco business after 2002, the family began exploring other options. "That's when we said, 'OK. It's time to go back to school. We better have a backup plan and the backup plan better be secure,"' Christine says. Looking for help With government stressing the importance of farmers "transitioning" to new crops and jobs in light of tobacco's decline, the Godelies thought there would be financial help available if they decided to take a new direction. The family looked to see what kind of assistance was out there. "We didn't want to get caught," Christine says. "We went to employment services and said: 'What can we do?"' To the family's dismay, Godelie didn't qualify for financial assistance from the government because he had already started studying to become a tool-and-die maker, an education he continues today and has so far cost $25,000. "They tell you to go back to school and retrain," Godelie says. "Then, there's no money to do it." Christine had also tried working off farm since 2002 and is now attending chef's school, with the government helping pay her tuition. "We're starting out like 20-year-olds again," she says. It's no small source of frustration for the Godelies that government has declared war on tobacco, a legal product that for generations sustained Canadian farm families. Godelie wonders why government decided to pick on tobacco when polluting vehicles, fast food and alcohol are also a cause for health concerns. "(Tobacco) is still a legal industry," he says. "Basically, we're being forced out of business by government policy and global economics. We're the pawns in this big game. You feel like a puppet on a string." Buyout call Godelie says government needs to come forward with a buyout for tobacco growers. Ontario's remaining producers had been asking the government for a $1-billion assistance package that would allow all of them to permanently exit the industry. It's the only way a viable financial future for growers will be ensured, he says. "Being in limbo is the hardest, not knowing what's happening," Godelie says. "The only way to wrap this up is a humane exit. We're giving the government $9 billion a year in taxes; $1 billion is not a lot to ask." The Godelies say any money they might receive as part of a buyout would go toward paying off the family's debt. As they work toward new careers and wait for any word on a buyout, the Godelies hope they'll soon work their way out from under the weight the collapse of tobacco has placed on their family. For the sake of their children, they hope that's the case. "The kids feel it," Godelie says. "They don't know exactly what's going on, but they know it's not the way it used to be." Enditem