Journalism has many traditions. One of the oldest is adding “-30-” after the last paragraph of a just-completed story to alert the editor of “the end.” Old-timers say it was adopted from the Western Union’s shorthand for “End of message.”
Whatever its origin, -30- is a fitting send-off to my 33 years of writing the Farm and Food File. After this column reaches its inky end, I will be out of the business of meeting deadlines for the first time in 45 years of full-time journalism and, if you toss in my cow-milking career, almost 60 years.
Journalism’s deadlines are a weak comparison to the relentless clock and demanding daily presence of dairying. But both endeavors — if done right — offer unique challenges to deliver a Grade A product that betters people’s lives and I am proud to have done both.
Here’s another odd combination from my career: Across its many decades, I worked either for my father (for 50 cents an hour) or myself as a free-lance writer for 50 years. Here-and-there I spent a dozen or so years as a student, a staff editor for Successful Farming magazine, and a contributing editor for Farm Journal.
It was during one of my drifting student periods that journalism discovered me. As an ag econ student ticketed for a career in banking and farm management, I added an ag journalism class to have at least one hour a day not centered on bushels, price and profit.
Six weeks later I had a notion that something might be waiting for me other than a milking parlor or banker’s desk. Six months later, I was certain. Eighteen months later, I was a staff editor for an ag publication in Iowa. It happened that fast.
So did 45 years — and hundreds of magazine stories, more than 1,775 newspaper columns, and 1.5 million words — of writing. None of it, however, would have happened without three key ingredients.
Foremost is the lovely Catherine and my family. Without them, there would be no column — or me.
Next are the newspaper editors and publishers who subscribed to the column over the decades. Everyday they do something we often take for granted: they gather, edit and present what they believe is the best, most truthful news and entertainment to inform and enlighten readers to make informed decisions for themselves and neighbors.
It’s not magic. It’s hard work that requires smarts, money, and guts. Without that combination — as too many communities now know —newspapers can’t exist.
The final element is you. We journalists often see our prose as poetry or ourselves as important. The simple truth is that nothing is as important or impactful than you. We may write the first draft of history, but you change history with ideas, opinions and votes.
So, thank you. Thank you for reading the column over these many years. Thank you for allowing me to bring my views on ag policy and politics to the best, most well-informed audience around, farmers and ranchers.
And thank you for welcoming Uncle Honey, Howard the dairyman, his never-fast brothers Jackie and Orlie, and my family into yours. There’s more untold stories about all which leads me to a final note.
While I am retiring the column, I am not retiring from journalism. Other publications have asked me to write for them (no promises), and I have established a Substack account (substack.com/@alanguebert) that will remain free through year’s end. Also, I will keep my email account at agcomm@farmandfoodfile.com for correspondence and I look forward to staying in touch.
Until then, though, I plan to take — as Jackie might say — a “right smart” amount of time to rest, read, travel, and see if life without deadlines actually exists. Any bets?
(The Farm and Food File is published weekly throughout the U.S. Contact information is posted at farmandfoodfile.com. © 2026 ag comm)
