Tao-Lynn Carr is one of many business owners who find fulfillment serving rural people and living close to the land. She purchased a run down commercial property, north of Athens and in the village of Delta, nestled between Upper and Lower Beverley Lakes. Four years later she opened the Bastard Coffee House. (Charles Summers photo)
Noblesse Oblige is a historical concept wherein the upper strata of society, as a demonstration of conscientious responsibility, acted with a form of unselfish care for the population of their communities. In Medieval times this took the form of almsgiving and church building. In the Industrial era, capitalists of the Guilded Age left libraries and concert halls as their public legacy. The uber wealthy of today, unfortunately, are not engaged in such benevolent works. Jeff Bezos is not building wonderful parks, George Soros is not “giving back”, and most corporate boards of directors could care less about the populations they employ or derive their profits from.
George Tackaberry’s (one of Leeds and Grenville counties largest private employers) generous donation last year of $500,000 to the new Maple Lodge retirement home in Athens is a throwback to when successful business concerns turned their largess back into the wellbeing of their communities. And so, while such gestures are becoming rare, the good news is that there is still a class of lesser nobles with an altruistic bent of mind.
It’s quite clear, if you have eyes to see, that it is the land owners, and quite often the farmers, who take the role of the rural aristocracy. Although they don’t always dress or sound the part, their actions speak louder: they are at the forefront of efforts to enrich, stabilize and grow their neighbourhoods; be it country fairs, volunteering, 4-H or afterschool programing. The reason is very simple: they’re not going anywhere, and they have the vested interest to improve the place in which they raise their families and conduct their businesses. They are tied to the land.
Rural communities are actually wonderful places to live. Safe, quiet, affordable; abounding with natural beauty and friendly folks. When the bread and circuses of urban life dried up during COVID, thousands of people across Ontario decided to make the move to small towns, country villages and rural properties for a very good reason.
“When I hear about a young family that wants to move out here, I put them on a list!” Wendy Banks tells me with sparkling eyes. Wendy got started in business at age five selling her parents’, Neal’s and Gale’s, sweet corn at the side of their rural by-way outside of Lyndhurst. In the 55 years since then, she has become an institution onto herself thanks to indefatigable energy and a sincere love for the place where she lives and the people she shares it with.
“People – specifically children – are the future of our community,” Wendy elaborates. And what grounds them there? The land, and the food that comes off of it. For decades Wendy has tirelessly sold, showcased and shared the bounty that comes from the fields around her. Whether through the “Mobile Market” – which at one point was connecting over 80 growers and artisans with over 50 regional restaurants and grocers – to the latest “Farm Retreat” iteration of her business: which now delivers hot farm-to-table lunches to local schools, teaches cooking classes to children, hosts events and weddings, and serves weekly “Lunch in the Loft” meals to local residents.
Newcomers see more than opportunity, they see the shine. Tao-Lynn and Jonathan Carr met in highschool in Almonte. When they decided to start a family they looked far and wide for a home with enough land to let their children run wild and grow a bit of food. They found such a spot outside of Lyndhurst, and on their first visit to examine the property, as they cruised past the skating rink in Delta, a view of the large row of neglected brick commercial buildings – “The Jubilee Block” – planted a seed of vision in Tao’s mind.
The Carrs moved to their modest old farmhouse in 2014. In 2018 Tao purchased 2,500 square feet of the Jubilee for $75,000. In 2022 Tao opened the Bastard Coffee House (the saucy name owing to Delta being the seat of former Bastard Township), and her vision became a reality.
It’s hard to describe, and perhaps unbelievable to the sceptical, but The Bastard has palpably changed the sleepy village. Delta just feels different: there is a spark and flicker of life in what otherwise was a ruin.
But it’s not because of hipsters and wealthy remote workers. Yes, it’s a cute café, and they make hay with tourists in July and August, but what really anchors the business are the unassuming citizens of Delta.
Tao glances at a diner as we chat on a grey day in February, “This gentleman here, he’s on in years, he lives alone. He comes in every day for lunch. He lives around the corner. If we’re not open, I’m not sure what he’s eating.” And so, The Bastard is open 364 days a year (they close Christmas Day), because Tao and her staff genuinely want to serve their neighbours.
Wendy and Tao don’t have business plans that would have the investors on Shark Tank jumping for joy, happy to throw money at them. Like farmers, they make enough money to do it all again next year, and they’re happy with that, because what they’re doing is not for today, but for tomorrow. The real reward is in intangibles: people.
As customers start to pour into Wendy’s Country Market, I ask Wendy before I leave who else I need to talk with to round out this matter of rural renewal and small business. And at that moment the door chimes open and a big smile enters the room. The womenfolk make that funny squealing sound they do when they haven’t seen each other in a while, and Wendy introduces me to Angela Mackie: she and her husband Gerry Mclellan have moved to Athens to open a bakery: “I’ve been trying to get them to move here for 13 years!” Wendy laughs as she introduces me.
Big Waters Bakery will open for Easter of this year, and goes to show that there is a lot of room and a lot of support for those willing to throw their hat in the ring. If you find yourself out here, keep in mind: it’s not a get rich scheme, it’s a long game.
Wendy does her business in an old schoolhouse on land that her great grandfather donated to the township (talk about Noblesse Oblige). When Tao had to do a small renovation in The Bastard, she found herself chipping through 16-inch solid walls of triple brick. They used to build things that last: and that’s what we need to do again. Good thing her husband Jonathan is a mason!
We’re only as strong as the people around us, and a village or a farm never really “arrive;” they’re just under our care for a little while, and it’s our choice to leave a legacy, or not.
Charles Summers owns Salt of the Earth Farm, a direct-to-consumer operation selling vegetables at the roadside, near Lyndhurst, Ontario.
