The opinions stated in this article are solely those of the author. 

As a bank president and a sheep rancher, Davis County’s Ralph Firth could be labeled a “gentleman farmer.”

And that was fitting. He was a gentleman. He indeed was also a farmer.  He had a passion for both. When he passed away six weeks ago, at age 89, it was a loss for his family (robust six children, 22 grandchildren, and 26 great-grandchildren), and also a loss of a lifestyle – the slowly diminishing agricultural community. 

Ralph was a shining example, and also a smiling example. His degrees from Weber State University and the University of Utah led him to the financial world where he became the president of one of Davis County’s largest community banks. He smiled at customers as they walked in the door; then again, he was always smiling. 

At the bank’s board of director meetings, the chairman says he never saw Ralph without a smile. (“I’m not sure he ever gets angry,” he says.) One of his sons-in-law, David Odle, confirms that he did get angry. “But only occasionally – and not for long,” he said. “Ralph just lived day to day as an optimist. He had deep faith, his family, and his sheep.”

He saw the sheep every weekday morning, feeding and watering the animals spread over some 22 acres before donning a suit and a tie and heading off to the bank. (Along with the sheep, the Firths cut and baled alfalfa and grew potatoes on a 100 acre site in South Weber.) There were fences to fix, irrigation systems to repair, and the annual spring sheep shearing.

He loved it all, proud to carry on a tradition formally organized by his father as the Firth Family Sheep Farm in 1927. And even as Ralph’s health waned, he could be seen “riding the fence” on his side-by-side. 

In our mostly urbanized county, Ralph was a throw-back, one gradually disappearing. As in most farming families, the children either lack the interest in pursuing an agricultural career or understand the complexities and difficulties with it.

“It’s just too hard to make any money today on a small farm,” says his daughter Maria. “The work is demanding, the prices you get for crops varies year-to-year, machinery is very expensive, and permits can be restrictive. Couple that with neighbors who sometimes complain about the farmyard smells and the cost of insurance to cover anybody wandering around on the property getting injured…Well, it’s understandable why farmland and orchards along the Wasatch Front are being sold off for housing developments. It’s sad, but it’s reality.”

Davis County’s remaining farmland is generally located in the north. Layton was the county’s unofficial breadbasket, but recent deaths among the farm families – the Laytons, Dibbles and Days – may only ramp up farming’s decline. Family feuds have even risen when one member of the family wants to continue to farm while his or her siblings want to “cash out.”

Yes, Ralph was an optimist. But he was also a businessman. He could see the future of Davis County. And even if he wished it could retain some of its rural nature, he was a realist…and he never lost that smile! 

Bryan Gray, a longtime Davis County resident, is a former school teacher and has been a columnist for more than 26 years in newspapers along the Wasatch Front.