When Rob Schilling and brother-in-law Rick Lynn planted their first five acres of raspberries in 1986, the harsh economics of agriculture were mowing down farms like a combine cutting hay.

	Andy Starnes, Post-Gazette Amy Schilling puts newly picked blueberries in a container held by Ramon Orozco. Click photo for larger image.

Some 4,500, or 8 percent, of Pennsylvania's farms had disappeared in the five preceding years. Another 3,500, roughly 6 percent of the state's total, would fall by the way in the next five. Nationwide, the percentages were the same.

Tracts such as the 100-acres in Westmoreland County that Lynn and Schilling had purchased were the kind under siege -- either by developers building out from metropolitan centers or by bigger growers who annexed them in an atmosphere that favored ever greater economies of scale that come from ever bigger farms.

Schilling and Lynn weren't expecting a full-time commercial venture to grow from those first 7,500 raspberry bushes they planted. But their farm not only has survived in the face of all the pressures confronting small farms, but has grown to become one of the biggest berry specialty operations in this half of the country, covering 150 acres with roughly 60 in production.

Helping the farm, named Sand Hill Berries, thrive was its pursuit of high-value specialty crops; savvy marketing, mostly to retail customers; and the production of so-called "value added" products, ranging from jams to vinegars, that sell for higher prices, said Marvin Pritts, chairman of Cornell University's horticulture department and a berry production researcher.

Doing some -- if not all of those things -- may be the only salvation for many of the relatively small growers that prevail in Pennsylvania and other parts of the Northeast. Planting specialty crops, for example, helps overcome one big hurdle many of the state's growers face: Pennsylvania's farms, which are less than a third the average size of farms nationwide, are hard pressed to compete with commodity farms that produce feed grains and livestock on vast tracts in the West.

But specialty crops alone won't save the family farm. Increasingly, to capture adequate profits, smaller farmers must market directly to consumers, said Stacee L. Meyer, a business and marketing associate with the Penn State Cooperative Extension. Crops sold through wholesalers and processors before they reach the grocery store return only 10 cents of every dollar consumers spend on food back to farmers. By doing their own retailing, family farmers get the whole dollar.

Processing can increase profitability as well, Meyer said. Citing one simple but profound example, she said that she recently learned of an Altoona, Blair County, farmer who had hired a processor to chocolate-dip a portion of his apple crop. At a wholesale auction, plain apples would bring about $22 a bushel. The equivalent number dipped in chocolate sell for $360, she said.

"The [farmers] who are in touch with what the public wants are the ones who are going to make it," said Kathy Demchak, a senior horticultural associate with Penn State Cooperative Extension. "What's dropping out, when you hear about the number of farms decreasing, are the people who weren't changing along with the market."

Although they knew they ultimately wanted to put their land to some productive use, Lynn and Schilling weren't exactly thinking about the consumer two decades ago when they bought Sand Hill.

They'd purchased the pastoral property, which had originally had been a dairy farm, primarily as a place to build homes and raise their children, Schilling said. Lynn, a doctor, had just set up his office in nearby Mount Pleasant, where he still practices. Schilling ran a car dealership.

Before they acquired it, the land had been leased to a beef cattle farmer. For a time afterwards they leased some acreage to another who grew corn and hay.

As they renovated the buildings, the couple wanted to grow something to improve the land as well, Schilling said. "The fields were pretty overrun."

But deciding on raspberries, which remain the largest part of their harvest, was partly happenstance.

	Andy Starnes, Post-Gazette Sand Hill Berries farm co-owner Amy Schilling, above, places protective screening over blueberry bushes to keep birds away. Click photo for larger image.

The late Robert Oglevee, whose nearby Connellsville farm is thought to be North America's largest geranium growing operation, had bred disease-resistant varieties of raspberries and promoted them through the Penn State Agricultural Extension Service as a promising -- and more profitable -- crop for Pennsylvania growers who couldn't compete growing feed grain or other traditional crops.

Unable to find any takers, Oglevee offered 7,500 plants at cost to Sand Hill, said Schilling, a boyhood friend of the geranium grower's children. Planting that many bushes put Sand Hill immediately on par with the average-size bramble crop in the East, which is about five acres, said Pritts, of Cornell. "It was probably too much at once, but we didn't know it," said Schilling.

On all fronts after that -- from further planting to marketing -- Sand Hill's growth was a process of trial, error and self-education.

The first summer blessed the farm, which has since been outfitted with an irrigation system, with ample rain, a modest harvest and a chance encounter at a Penn State seminar with Pritts, a second cousin to Susan Lynn and her sister, Amy Schilling.

Asked to visit, Pritts predicted the raspberry field would have "a tremendous harvest" the following year and warned that the growers needed to make plans for distributing the fruit beyond selling it locally and freezing it, as they had the first year. Pritts put them in touch with an upstate New York broker, who helped set them up as wholesale distributors to groceries in New York, Philadelphia and Washington.

Initially, the families thought they'd run their berry operation during summers only, selling almost exclusively through the broker, said Susan Lynn, a biomedical engineer by training who now works full time for the farm.

But three years into their venture, in 1989, a damaged harvest in California "opened our eyes to the hard truth" that wholesaling meant competition with whatever prices prevailed on the West Coast, home to the nation's biggest berry producers, she said.

The quality of the berries coming from California that year was very poor because unseasonably hot weather was damaging the perishable crop before it could be transported from farms to cooling facilities that sometimes were 15 miles away. Prices being paid for the poor quality fruit "were extremely low."

	Andy Starnes, Post-Gazette Devra Hunter, of Acme, has a laugh with Dr. Henry Bitar, Allegheny Township, over the eight pies he purchased earlier this month at the Sand Hill Berries store in Mount Pleasant. Click photo for larger image.

Although Sand Hill's crop was in good condition, it didn't matter, Lynn said. The farm was offered the same, lower price that the California growers were receiving.

The experience underscored the need to process some of the harvest, which Susan Lynn and Amy Schilling already had begun doing -- to a limited extent. Their inaugural effort was juicing some of the berries to make a raspberry claret that can be added to mixed drinks or used as a sauce.

Lynn put out feelers for possible outlets to sell the claret and came across a buyer for Williams-Sonoma, which purchased their entire production for a few years running. They also developed a jam for A Basket of Pittsburgh, a local business that fills gift baskets with regionally made products.

As Sand Hill's berry fields and production expanded, it became clear that the farm would need even more processing opportunities because fruit that is picked slightly under-ripe, slightly overripe or broken can't be sold fresh.

Moreover, because raspberries are so perishable, any picked in the rain typically must be sold frozen or processed. "What we've had to do here is try to devise a use for every berry that comes off the bush in order to create a meaningful income," said Lynn.

Along with the original claret, Sand Hill now makes pies, jams, jellies, preserves, vinegars, vinaigrettes and sauces. Uniformly high quality is of such importance that berries are hand sorted and jams are made in small batches of a half-dozen jars or so each.

There's a retail store on the farm and Sand Hill also sells its fresh fruits and processed products at farmers' markets around the region. Additionally, the farm has a retail Web site, www.sandhillberries.com.

The retail outlet has spurred diversification of the farm's crops, which now include strawberries, blueberries, red and black currants, kiwi berries, elderberries and some tree fruits, such as plums. "People wouldn't make this a destination if we weren't selling our own produce," said Lynn, whose physician-husband makes the crop selections.

Sand Hill's goal is to have fresh fruit of some kind from June 6, when strawberry picking usually begins, through Oct. 10, when the last fall-bearing raspberries are usually picked.

Some of the newer crops, such as currants and gooseberries, also give Sand Hill an edge in sophisticated markets such as New York and Washington, where large international populations create demand for fruits not commonly used by locals.

All told, the farm is expected to harvest upwards of 20 tons of berries this year, including about 16 tons of raspberries, Lynn said.

Although some processing is done during the growing season -- mostly to maintain inventories of vinegars and syrups and to make pies -- the bulk of it takes place during the winter using berries that have been frozen.

During the harvesting season, it's hard to imagine a busier small farm. During its peak months, Sand Hill employs about 40, with crews of pickers working from 7 a.m. to after dusk and as many as three shifts of sorters working from 7:30 a.m. until 11 p.m. to cull berries for processing from those to be boxed fresh.

Every day during harvest, Sand Hill's own refrigerated trucks carry fresh berries to wholesale distribution points and also fan out to local farmers' markets.

The farm is kept picture perfect, with rows of berries in rectangular plots surrounded by wide swaths of mowed field.

Neat brick walkways surround the retail operation, which includes a patio and a cutting garden, where patrons can purchase bouquets of summer flowers.

Restored out-buildings, including a barn whose cornerstone was laid in 1779, blend with newer ones. The farm site is thought to have served as a camp for Major General Edward Braddock when he was enroute to Fort Duquesne during the French and Indian War.

That history, combined with Sand Hill's array of specialty crops, some acreage set aside for experimental planting, some livestock and a small woodland amphitheater, also make the farm a magnet for garden clubs and other groups seeking tours. Some companies have used the amphitheater for business retreats.

Although there is no charge for tours, they draw customers into the store and to patio tables, where pies and ice cream are routinely offered and where lunches can be special-ordered for groups.

Whether by offering "pick your own" crops, hayrides or other forms of "agri-tainment," savvy growers in the state, especially near urban areas, are gradually using farm life itself to lure customers looking for activities, farm experts said.

What sets Sand Hill apart is not that it has tied into one of these profit-enhancing practices, but that it seems to have mastered them all, said Debby Wechsler, executive director of the North American Bramble Growers Association, based in North Carolina.

"They're wholesaling, they're retailing, they bring people in with all kinds of activities, whether it's entertainment or education," she said. "At the same time, they're staying on top of all of the professional horticultural aspects [of growing berries] as well."