I grew up with a love for agriculture that began with my father. My parents were first-generation farmers; learning as they went, balancing mortgage payments, and navigating the uncertainty of ever-changing livestock markets as true novices. They learned many lessons the hard way, motivated not by ease or security, but by the desire to raise their kids in the country, dreams that outgrew their bank accounts, and a quiet hope that the future might carry what they started forward.
When I met John, his story felt familiar, yet different. He is the fourth generation to carry on the legacy of Central Bridge Farms. A place rich in history, where everywhere you turn, a story waits to be told.
In those early years of dating, I didn’t just fall in love with my husband; I fell in love with the place he holds dearest to his heart. We would be fixing fence lines, and he’d pause to tell me about the summer he worked alongside his grandfather at this exact spot, replacing long stretches of wire by hand. Or the time a bull busted through at this exact spot and chased his dad up a tree. He’d point out how a barn was purchased from a nearby town and rolled to this exact spot on logs by horses. How the metal barn now standing was built on the exact same spot as the old poultry barn. Or how in this same building, in this same room, his great-grandfather once milked twenty-five dairy cows by hand.
Everywhere on this farm is a story.
As I fell in love with John and with the farm, I also fell in love with the history; and with the people who came before us, whose sacrifice made this life possible.
One hundred years ago, this farm was purchased by John’s great-grandfather, Elon Robert VanDerwerken.
Among the VanDerwerken men, Elon has always been spoken of with deep respect. He was a “man’s man” in every sense of the phrase; a survivalist, tough and unyielding, an avid hunter, a cattleman, a cowboy, an adventurer. He could be a hothead at times, but he was also honest, hardworking, and deeply adaptive. The kind of man who didn’t shy away from hardship, but met it head-on and figured things out as he went.
Elon lost his father when he was only eight years old, a moment that forced him into responsibility far earlier than most. From that point forward, work was not optional. He labored wherever he could; threshing grain, hauling hay, milking cows, pressing hay by hand; earning as little as twenty-five cents a day and learning quickly that survival depended on effort, grit, and integrity.
Before purchasing a farm of his own, Elon spent years working away from home. He traveled west as a harvest hand and worked on ranches, learning livestock handling, horsemanship, and how to endure isolation, uncertainty, and harsh conditions. When he returned home in 1926 and bought this farm, it wasn’t by inheritance or chance; it was by conviction.
The early operation focused on cash crops and dairy, with Elon milking roughly twenty to twenty-five cows. After about a decade, changes within the industry forced him to adapt. By the late 1930s, the farm transitioned into poultry production and entered a season of significant growth. Poultry barns expanded steadily; eventually forming a three-story structure, and the operation grew to more than 10,000 chickens.
Elon was an early adopter of innovation. The farm installed a feed elevator that was the only one of its kind in the county at the time. It was among the first locally to operate a tractor with electric start and rubber tires. And the barns were electrified long before the farmhouse.
In July of 1946, Elon paid off the farm’s mortgage and celebrated by burning the bank note in a large bonfire; an enduring symbol of independence, perseverance, and pride in honest work.
The farm was later passed down to his sons, John and Jim. In the mid-1950s, Grandpa John purchased Jim’s half of the operation, becoming sole owner and carrying the farm forward into yet another transition.
By the late 1950s, growing competition from large-scale poultry operations made it increasingly difficult for smaller farms to survive. The decision was made to phase out poultry and transition into Angus beef cattle. In 1964, Grandpa John purchased the farm’s first Angus bull and five bred heifers, laying the foundation for the beef herd that still exists today. Many of our current genetics trace directly back to those original animals; bloodlines that have endured for nearly sixty years.
Central Bridge Farms doesn’t just honor its history; we live inside it.
The current metal utility barn stands on the original foundation of the three-story poultry barn. Our farm store occupies what was once the egg-washing building. Tin salvaged from former chicken houses lines the store ceiling, and old chicken feeders now hold flowers. Many of the same barns remain in daily use, along with the original cattle chute.
These choices are intentional. Rather than erasing the past, each generation has chosen to build upon it; preserving the physical and practical history of the farm while adapting it for the future.
This farm exists because, in every generation, someone chose sacrifice over ease.
Grandpa John carried that responsibility for nearly the entirety of the farm’s first century. Living ninety-five of the one hundred years we now celebrate, his steady leadership and tireless work shaped nearly every chapter of this place.
In 2012, the farm faced one of its most difficult seasons. With both Mark and Robert serving in the Army overseas, the majority of the beef herd had to be sold to keep the operation viable. At the same time, John, still in high school, stepped into responsibility far beyond his years, working daily alongside Grandpa John and learning the cattle business through lived experience.
John chose to attend college locally so he could continue living and working on the farm. By 2017, he was managing the day-to-day responsibilities years before officially becoming owner and operator in 2022. His leadership during that transition stabilized and rebuilt the business.
Today, Central Bridge Farms remains a working farm shaped by a century of adaptation and perseverance. Farming has never been easy or predictable, and it still requires faith in what cannot always be measured immediately.
My understanding of this responsibility runs deep because I’ve seen both sides of it. I’ve watched my parents fight to build something from nothing as first-generation farmers; learning through mistakes, bearing the weight of uncertainty, and choosing persistence when walking away would have been easier. And I’ve also seen the reward of longevity through this farm, what it means to build on a foundation laid by others, to steward something that has endured.
That perspective shapes how we farm today.
John brings years of professional experience in soil and water conservation, guiding how we manage the land from the ground up. Regenerative practices protect water quality, improve soil health, and ensure the land grows more resilient with every season.
We raise beef, pork, and chicken on pasture, allowing animals to live as they were designed to; contributing to the health of the land itself. My role centers on the herd: breeding decisions, herd health, and animal husbandry. Genetics are never left to chance here. They are written in ink, tracked through generations, and stewarded with the long view in mind.
Together, we steward not just land and livestock, but knowledge.
Under John’s leadership, the farm has transitioned from a traditional cow-calf operation into a direct-to-consumer business, allowing us to connect directly with the people who eat our food. We’ve diversified in a way that brings the farm full circle; raising food not just for markets, but for neighbors and families who want to know where their food comes from.
Now, as parents, we carry that responsibility with even greater weight.
We hope to raise our three boys as the fifth generation; not with the expectation that they must farm, but with the understanding of what it means to steward something well. To know the value of work, the cost of commitment, and the importance of honoring what came before them.
The story is still being written.
But the foundation remains the same.
This year, as we mark one hundred years since this farm was purchased, we’re taking time to pause and acknowledge what has made that longevity possible.
On October 3rd, we will gather here at Central Bridge Farms for our Century Celebration; a day to honor the generations who built this place, the land that has sustained it, and the people who have walked alongside us along the way. It will be a time for good food, shared stories, music, and fellowship, rooted in the same values that have carried this farm forward for a century.
This celebration isn’t just about our family or our history. It’s about community.
Every customer who has chosen to support local agriculture, every neighbor who has lent a hand, every friend who has shared a meal at our table; you are part of this story. We would not be where we are today without the encouragement, trust, and support of the people who believe in what we’re building here.
This farm has always been more than land and livestock. It is relationships. It is shared purpose. It is the reminder that food connects us all.
We hope you’ll join us on October 3rd; not just to celebrate one hundred years behind us, but to stand with us as we look ahead to what comes next.
Because this story has never been ours alone.