And when developers arrived offering money for land or water access, he insisted that existing rights and environmental obligations be documented.
Some neighbors respected him.
Others considered him stubborn.
The three men who would eventually laugh at his daughter belonged to the second group.
The largest of them owned the biggest cranberry operation in the valley.
He'd inherited part of the property from his father and purchased several neighboring parcels during periods when smaller growers struggled financially.
By his late fifties, he controlled more than four hundred acres and had established a substantial relationship with a regional fruit-processing company.
His operation was modern.
Wide irrigation channels.
Commercial harvest machinery.
Large storage buildings.
And enough employees to complete difficult seasonal work quickly.
He liked reminding people how successful he had become.
At county meetings, he often spoke as though the growth of his farm proved that everyone else should follow his advice.
When someone disagreed, he laughed.
When a smaller farmer asked for help, he usually wanted to know what he'd receive in return.
And when the young woman's father questioned a proposed water-management change, the larger grower treated it as an insult.
The second farmer, the man in the olive-green shirt, operated a smaller property beside his.
He had once been independent.
Over time, he became financially dependent on equipment leases, processing agreements, and loans connected to the larger operation.
He laughed at the older man's jokes.
Repeated his opinions.
And rarely challenged him publicly.
The third farmer was different.
He wore dark plaid shirts, spoke less, and had worked his family's cranberry beds for nearly forty years.
He wasn't particularly wealthy.
But he understood the land.
He also understood how much influence the largest grower had accumulated.
For years, he tried to remain neutral in disagreements.
Sometimes he supported the dominant farmer because it seemed easier.
Other times he privately acknowledged that the young woman's father was probably right.
That habit of avoiding conflict would eventually leave him trapped between loyalty and conscience.
When the young woman returned to the valley after completing her agricultural engineering degree, her father had already begun experiencing health problems.
He tried to hide them.
He continued inspecting irrigation gates.
Maintained equipment.