The Last Generation is a developing portrait of the Allen family, and others like them, who represent the last generation of small-scale, family-run farms in America. It’s a document of an evaporating way of life, a record of what stands to be lost, and most importantly, a reflection on America’s ever-changing identity. This project is ongoing. Future chapters will focus on viable alternatives to agribusiness developing models that are seeing viable alternatives large scale agribusiness models. - In Bardstown, Kentucky, the Loretto Hills reach heavenward behind a shirtless, leather-skinned figure of Jackie Allen, as he examines a punctured tire on his 1975 Ford tractor. “That’s a thousand dollar tire,” he murmurs. The work stops, the truck engine cranks, and he’s on to the next task. “It’ll have to wait.” One field over, the farmer’s hunched frame now resembles the formidable machine moving slowly behind him. His gnarled fingers grasp at swaths of loose hay, dispersing them in the June sun. Behind him, a baler dutifully swallows and compresses, dispensing perfectly round bales of hay in its wake as evidence of their shared labor. “I’m as good as any farmer,” Jackie told me that day. And at 62, he looks the part. “Jackrabbit,” as he’s called, has summoned food from fertile ground for as long as he can remember. And over the past ten years on the farm, his granddaughter Zoe has grown into his closest companion. “She keeps me wore out,” he chuckles. Walking beside them in the field, something about their relationship to each other and to the land feels idyllic, worth preserving. But the sun is setting on small family farms in America, and the Allen’s can feel it. Between 1948 and 2015, more than four million farms disappeared in the United States. And in the recent decade, more than half of all farmers said they lost money doing it. As the corporate farming model benefits from government subsidies and economies of scale, small-scale, family-run farms are facing stiffer challenges than ever, while receiving little or no support. This dissolution of a centuries-old relationship to farming is chipping away at America’s rural communities, where young, would-be farmers say ‘no thanks,’ and the last generation of seasoned holdouts are faced with two options: adapt, or be gobbled up. For Jackie Allen, staying the course is like pining for daylight in the eleventh hour. Yet, he’s determined to keep moving. In addition to farming, Jackrabbit is diversifying – earning money here and there by breaking horses for Kentucky’s wealthier farmers, whose mega farms will inevitably put him out of business. Zoe, an award-winning barrel horse racer, is a big help with that – “she’s got a natural gift,” Jackrabbit baosts. It’s the one in-road the Allen’s still have for turning a profit on the farm, and they’re not backing down any time soon. “You gotta love it to do it,” Allen told me. “Cause there ain’t no future in it.” “And I love it.”