94 FORTUNE FEBRUARY/MARCH 2021
the state that didn’t get hit by the derecho or drought,
yields were good in 2020 and corn prices have risen nicely
since summer. Federal assistance in the form of trade
payments and COVID relief have provided a generous
cushion and were a good part of the reason that farmer
incomes, on average, increased in 2020.In Cedar Rapids, as elsewhere, the recovery
continues. There is plenty of evidence—in the form of
debris piles, dented fences, and tarped roofs—that the
city is still being put back together. But mostly there’s
great satisfaction in how the community came together
and some lingering wonder at all they went through.
The mayors of both Cedar Rapids and Marshalltown
touted big investment projects they have underway—
developments that have nothing to do with rebuilding
from disasters, but rather just boosting the strength of
their cities.
Since the pandemic began, the state has recorded a
total of 313,907 cases of COVID and 4,448 deaths due
to the virus—ranking it eighth among states in terms of
cases per capita, and 17th in terms of deaths per capita
over the course of the pandemic. After Iowa’s scary,
hospital-straining battle with the virus in November, the
situation is much improved: The state’s case numbers
have nose-dived. It might have been the mask mandate;
it might have been Iowans being responsible.
A spokesperson for Governor Reynolds said in a state-
ment: “The governor had a very targeted and balanced
approach to mitigating the COVID-19 pandemic. The
focus was protecting lives, livelihoods, preserving hospital
resources, and bringing kids back to school safely. A mask
is one layer of protection and she emphasized all of them
on a near daily basis.”
For those I interviewed, the new year has almost univer-
sally come with a sense of hope—because of the vaccine, or
the rising price of corn, or the stronger community spirit,
or just the turn of the calendar away from 2020.
My parents are fine. They’re thinking about new trees
and alternative ways to provide shade in a yard that lacks
them. Their pulse oximeter remains virtually untouched,
in its box. And they got vaccinated for COVID as I was
finishing this story. I still worry about them and the virus,
but then I probably always will.money back. That’s an incredible show of faith.”
Farmers that were hit didn’t lose just crops but also a
lot of their infrastructure—the expensive equipment, the
barns and grain bins. “We’re going to be dealing with this
for years to come,” says Anderson.
Crop and other insurance covered much of the damage,
but many, like Jenni and Scott Birker, still faced significant
losses in 2020 because of the compound effect of the pan-
demic and the derecho. In recent years, the couple, who
live in Benton County and raise beef cattle, watched their
margins slim to almost nothing. “I’ve changed from being
a cowboy basically to being a businessman. We’re picking
up pennies and nickels every day out here,” Scott says.
But 2020 was a new type of challenge. Starting in
February, with virus fears rattling markets, the Birkers
weren’t able to secure their usual put option to ensure
they covered the cost of their cattle. Then outbreaks start-
ed shuttering the state’s packing plants. Given the backlog
of cattle waiting to be sold, the couple made the decision
to modify their animals’ rations—“basically we put them
on a 60-day diet”—to prolong the period before they took
them to market. “We had to pay for that extra feed cost
with no insurance on the cattle, which we thought was
the right move at the time,” says Scott. “We didn’t have a
clue what to do.”
And then the derecho hit. The Birkers lost their barn,
chicken coop, miles of fence, and much of their corn crop,
and had multiple tractors damaged. As they emerged
from their basement after the storm, they found their
five-dozen chickens and laying hens scattered among the
wreckage. Their cattle were all alive, but wandering free in
the pasture. When they finally sold the cattle in October, it
was for a loss. In all, it was a terrible year, but they have no
plans to quit.
Others have had it even worse. And Anderson and
others worry about the potential for farm bankruptcies to
come as well as mental health issues among the agricul-
tural community. (She knows of one farmer who commit-
ted suicide after the derecho.) Ag giant Cargill does too; it
has sponsored some of the work the ISU extension service
is providing for farmers and their families.
The bleak outlook is far from universal. For those who
managed to harvest their crops, or who lived in a part of
WHAT COMES NEXT : THE HEARTLAND“People think they have the right to call you names and
YELL AND SCREAM AND THREATEN,” says one public
health official trying to limit the spread of the virus.