The transition is a daunting one for Nick Farmer and dozens of other farms throughout the country. For decades, even centuries in some cases, tobacco has been king, a cash-rich crop that has sustained farming families for generations. But a shifting industry and climate change are creating lapses in the rhythm of
southern life, forcing farmers to try their luck at creating new traditions.
Enter hemp. It's presented as the solution to the dying tobacco industry. It is more profitable, has numerous uses, and is not as physically demanding compared to tobacco. But, hemp is not certain.
The industry is at the pilot stage. Researchers are still developing guidelines for first-time farmers. Farmers look to each other for clues. Only a handful of tobacco converts in Harrison County, Kentucky, have found any level of success since the University of Kentucky began the hemp pilot program in 2014.

“Aldo Farmer, 5, hands his father, Nick Farmer, a hemp stock as Ashley Farmer follows with a tobacco stick. The family hangs their first hemp crop in a tobacco barn outside of Cynthiana, Kentucky on September 21, 2019.”

Nick counts his herd of cattle after a neighbor called to let him know that his cows had escaped and were roaming in the woods. All of the cattle were returned to the field, and Nick missed dinner to repair the fence.

Aldo Farmer's toy tractor sits next to a freshly set hemp plant as Nick and his wife Ashley finish setting the last row of the 5 acre plot on June 15, 2019. In the fall of 2018, Nick lost 90% of his tobacco crop to record rainfall. "It was one of those things that was slowly going away, and I always thought something bad was going to happen that was going to force me out. All that rain in the fall of 2018 was the piece of straw that broke the camel's back. So, I figured it was a better time than any to make the switch from tobacco to hemp," says Farmer.

Aldo Farmer, 5, unloads hemp plants from a cattle trailer parked in the shade on June 14, 2019.

Nick and Ashley kiss after Nick set fire to a pile of male hemp plants that he pulled from the field. A single male plant can pollinate a 3-5 mile radius, which causes the female plants to use their energy producing seeds rather than CBD (the desired product).

Nick bottle feeds a calf that has not learned to latch onto its mother. Nick cares for 250 head of cattle by himself.

A dead calf lays in the mud after falling into a creek bed the night before. "I have lost more calves this year than in years past," Nick says.

Nick checks on his hemp crop on September 6, 2019. He has removed over 800 male plants from his 5-acre plot. "I might only have 10 plants left," Farmer Jokes.

Nick hoses down Aldo in the backyard after setting hemp all afternoon on June 15, 2019.

After working with his cattle all day, Nick sits down at the kitchen table with Ashley on her birthday. The two celebrated the night before, because Nick knew that he would be working all day. “It’s the sacrifices that we have to make. Farming is not a 9-5 job with paid vacation, its a lifestyle, 365 days a year,” says Ashley.

Ashley works as a counselor at Westside Elementary. “I work a stable job so that Nick can farm,” Ashley jokes.

Aldo walks out of the front door as Nick comes in the back from watering the hemp plants still in his greenhouse. Nick is keeping a few “mother plants” in the greenhouse that he can take clippings from and start a clone, which contains the same DNA from the larger plant.”

Nancy Farmer, Nick's mother, cooks a meal before the family heads out on a camping trip on the farm.

Aldo runs through a patch of light after waking up from a camping trip out on the farm in early September 2019. "I want Aldo to know every inch of this farm, which is impossible, but I still want him to try," says Nick.

Nick sets fire to a third of his hemp crop after it tested too high in THC content (.03% THC is the federal limit). Tommy Yankee, the hemp inspector for the Kentucky Department of Agriculture, is sent out to supervise the burn. He introduces himself and immediately begins to help Nick take the remaining loads of hemp to the burn pile. Yankee apologizes profusely in the process, "I am so sorry this is the reason that we are meeting each other."

Nick still has hopes that he can break even on this year's crop and expects to grow some more next year, just maybe an acre or two. "Maybe I'll grow some tobacco next year," he jokes.

A patch of light glides over a mowed field on the Devil's Backbone in early December. Most of Nick's work has slowed down except for the cattle. “I still want to grow hemp next year, going to make it an even smaller
operation,” says Nick.