Loving the Farming Life

To first meet John Augustin, you’d never guess the ordeal he went through five years ago. The first thing that strikes you besides the vibrantly colored flowers and vegetables at on King Street in the northwest corner of Greenwich is that Farmer John has fun working beside his wife of 40 years, Kathy.

You might detect that John’s not the least bit motivated by money before you even notice that he lost a leg, the result of a freak accident that racked up millions of dollars in medical bills.

The couple represents a living history—an example of the salt-of-the-Earth folks who till the soil in the shadows of Westchester County Airport where private corporate jets drown the sound John's farm equipment, in Greenwich's very last commercial produce farm. Kathy finds solace in the frosted glass hothouse where she sells eveything from Easter lilies to homemade holiday pine wreaths.

Recounting his story, "Farmer John"—as he's known to the hundreds of schoolchildren who pick their pumpkins at the farm each October—jumped back and forth in time, so as not to burden his listener with too much detail of the nightmare at once. Instead, he furnished information about the last Sunday in April 2006, a little at a time.

Augustin described how initially he did not feel any pain when he ‘got tangled up in the tractor’ and recalled how the normally peaceful farm was so noisy with chickens squawking and motorcycles whizzing up King Street that no one heard his calls for help. But, as if it was a bit much to continue, he skipped to his favorite subject, Kathy.

“My farmerette,” is how Augustin refers to his wife, describing their start as a young couple as sort of a ‘reverse Green Acres,’ with her taking to farm living quickly and having a knack for growing just about anything. “She’s the one who can turn a twig into a tree, not me.”

Augustin recalled how before I-684 was built there was a grocery store up in Armonk. “My mom hinted to me there was a cute little girl working up there, and sent me to buy something. Afterward, she asked me how I liked her and I told her the girl was a snob, real nasty,” he said, leaving one to guess she was out of his league.

“Fast Freddy said to me, ‘You either got a job or you got a girl. Which is it?’”

Augustin tells a tale of knocking on Kathy’s door a few years later and her disappointed look when she opened the door. “It was the 60s and I was all scraggly and had long hair,” he admitted. He remembers afterward asking the barber, “Fast Freddy,” to ‘take it all off.’ “Freddy said to me, ‘You either got a job or you got a girl. Which is it?’”

Needless to say, Augustin cleaned up his act. “She really straightened my life out,” he said, proud to be married to the love of his life. “She has a degree in Cordon Bleu cooking, you know?”

Re-adjusting his leg to get comfortable, Farmer John resumed the tale of the horrible Sunday. “The rotor-tiller took my leg. I saw bits flying from the blades,” he said. “But it also saved my life because it stalled and then held me like a tourniquet.”

When emergency responders arrived, there were police, Greenwich Emergency Medical Service, and units from the Port Chester, Round Hill, Greenwich and Glenville fire departments. During the ride down I-684 to Westchester Medical Center, Augustin said, “I remember lying on my back in the ambulance watching the trees whiz by overhead and thinking I was about to get my wings.”

Later, in the hospital, he remembered floating in and out of consciousness and Father Frank of St. Paul’s church giving him last rites.

“’Are You the Lucky Man?’ Nelson Rockefeller Asked Me

Augustin reminisced about how happy he was to get engaged to Kathy, who lived for a time in the same building in Manhattan as Vice President Nelson Rockefeller. “I didn’t realize he was in the elevator with us until I felt an arm on my shoulder. ‘Are you the lucky man?’ he asked, and all I could do was dumbly nod my head. His men were rushing him, but he made them wait. He had me promise to take good care of her.”

Buoyed by Big-Hearted Friends and Love from Family

After several days in the hospital, “The big wheel came in to see me after I regained consciousness and told me that so many calls had poured in – celebrities, politicians, and friends – that it shut down their switchboard,” Augustin said with a look that begged the question: 'Can you believe it?'

On the road to recovery, Farmer John had a lot of visitors, including Girard, sole full-time employee on the farm since the age of 18. “He’s like a son,” said Augustin, who never had children. “He calls us his American mommy and poppy. We helped him get his green card. Now he’s 37 and has a wife and his own children.”

Disappointing Realtors Every Day

The accident brought out the best in most people, but the worst in some. “It happened on a Sunday and on Monday the vultures were here wanting to buy. Realtors kept calling, saying the farm’s worth millions.”

Asked about temptation to sell, he shrugged. “Then what would we do?” he asked. “I’m one of the rare people who gets up in the morning and enjoys going to work. We want to keep going.”

The only other Greenwich farm - located across the road - is on the real estate market, only by virtue of the owner's death, thus leaving the Augustin's the only working farm in Greenwich, hugging the state line with New York.

“The outpouring of love was fantastic”

After being discharged from the hospital, Augustin suffered a serious setback - an infection that resulted from a fleck of paint from the tractor. As a consequence, he racked up another $2 million in expenses. “I had insurance, mind you,” he explained, “But it didn’t cover everything.”

“Nino Sechi started the Farmer John Fund for my bills,” said Augustin. “Also, Bob DeAngelo, from the became a big friend.” Augustin listed all sorts of fundraisers and acts of generosity with a sense of awe and genuine gratitude.

At the end of sharing his story, Farmer John made a confession, as if to show he’s not as brave as he appears. “There’s three things that scare me: electricity, snakes and my wife,” he said, winking in Kathy’s direction. He may not be immortal, but he is self-deprecating to the end.

Augustine’s Farm, 1332 King St., Greenwich, (203) 532-9611.