him on our family’s Nebraska farm.
I’d planted corn in the spring, repaired machinery in winter, moved cattle through blizzards, and spent more mornings behind a tractor wheel than I could count.
My older brother, Phil, had chosen a different life.
He was fifty-six and sold insurance in Omaha.
He hadn’t farmed seriously since he was a young man.
But on that cold Tuesday in late February, inside a lawyer’s office above a hardware store in St. Paul, Nebraska, Phil inherited virtually everything.
Attorney Don Jensen had just read the
