Magic Kingdom, For Sale--

None of my father's three children are yet farmers. We all harbored day-dream desires to perhaps come home to the farm in the far future. But that future is suddenly here. And our day-dreams don't match the reality.

The farm will be for rent. After we figure out what we want to charge, we'll look for candidates to rent.
So, who wants a functioning, populated, sustainable (excepting the diesel fuel and seed inputs), grass-fed angus beef operation? I'll even lend a hand to get you started, if needed. We'd like to rent the entire farm as is. What we don't want is to auction off all the livestock and equipment and have someone come in and plant corn and beans over it. That's a small step from covering it with McMansions.

I went the the local extension agency to ask for help. My dad never put much stock with them. And now I know why.
Google would have served me better. They just couldn't find it in themselves to give a fuck. Government salaries have a way of reducing any job's inherent usefulness and response.
The agent I talked with told me I was being unreasonable to expect to find grassfed farmers to take over. And maybe my glasses are rose-colored. If you have any suggestions as to how to get the word out, please, suggest away.

aside* During the memorial service, a local agent for the extension office recalled a time when my dad went in with a small manifesto he'd written and tried to enlist help from the extension office. The manifesto was dealing with not looking to the local, state, or federal government for help, but rather to build up and focus on doing things that needed done in and amongst ourselves in the community. Helping those who need it, relying less on gov't subsidies, and the like.
The agent proudly recounted this little story, leaving out only the part where my dad was effectively laughed out of the building. They get paid no matter what happens, what care have they?