Dan West Monologue
Prepared for the 60th Anniversary of Heifer International
Written by John Haman and Jan Schrock
Introduction
You are about to hear a monologue performed by ________________ [name]
impersonating Dan West, founder of Heifer International. This monologue may
give you some insight into the background, vision, and early days of Heifer
International as we celebrate the 60th anniversary of Heifer. So, sit back and
enjoy this dramatic presentation where time stands still.
****
[West enters the room slowly, hands in pockets, wearing a cream-colored shirt
open at the collar with sleeves rolled up to elbows, brown wash pants, a belt
and nondescript lace-up shoes. He is simple, plain, and modestly confident as
he delivers his speech with quiet strength and meaningful pauses.]
Good morning [or Good evening]. My name is Dan West and I feel privileged to be speaking to you
under this unusual circumstance. [pause] By trade I am a farmer, educator, and environmentalist with a
deep faith in God and in people. By the grace of God, I am a father of five, a husband, and a member of
the Middlebury, Indiana, Church of the Brethren.
Good folks back then had a habit of calling me things behind my back, like prophet . . . legend . . .
visionary. Well, I like my cheese a bit milder than that.
My mother taught me to do my duty and then forget about myself. The things I’ve achieved are products
of my experience and inspiration.
I believe that when a fellow goes to meet his maker, other people should realize there’s little point in
talking about him much anymore. [pause] Now I’ve been gone from this Earth of ours since 1971. But I
have the time for one more speech.
To be honest, there’s not much special about me. I’ve had a few . . . ideas. Eh, maybe that’s not strong
enough. Dreams. Impossible dreams. Luckily, a group of motivated people—people who looked a lot like
you—got behind those dreams and they were the ones who turned the dream into reality. [pause] And you
can do the same. [quietly] If we work together, we can steer the habit of war into a way of peace and
prosperity for everyone. [gestures toward the past]
Many years ago, my family settled on a farm in northern Indiana. I say “my family,” because I never
really settled anywhere. Never felt comfortable staying in one place for very long. My amazing wife,
Lucy, ran the farm, taught school, worked with our church, and looked after our children. I traveled the
country as a youth worker and Christian educator for the Church of the Brethren.
For many years I traveled across the U.S. leading youth camps, trying to inspire young people to see the
greater world and guide them to commit to a life of meaning and service. I wanted them to become world
citizens.
It’s important that you understand the values of the Church of the Brethren: to live a simple life and a life
of service. We’re a peacemaking church, mostly agrarian. We search for ways to make a difference
beyond our own households, our communities, and our national borders.
The best example of a Brethren I can think of is my father. Landon West was fifty-two when I was born.
He lived during the Civil War in southern Ohio. A farmer and preacher, he wanted to do whatever he
could to help the slaves fleeing from the South, so he assisted the underground railroad movement and
then, in Circleville, started one of the first African American Churches of the Brethren.
Under his influence, I came to believe that my focus should be on others. The touchstone of this belief is
understanding the tremendous worth that is inherent in every human being.
To achieve our purpose in life, we must recognize human worth, celebrate individual differences, and
assist in developing each person’s potential. Of course, nothing devalues human worth and destroys
human potential more than war. [pause]
In 1937 I left my understanding wife and two young children and headed where I knew I was needed . . .
to help the victims of the Spanish Civil War. Innocent women, children, and old men were still alive, but
dying from hunger. Most of the young men had been killed, homes and barns were burned, farm animals
killed. There was little to eat, nowhere to go.
Our team from the Mennonites, Quakers, and Church of the Brethren provided used clothing and
reconstituted powdered milk to help these people stay alive. We were required to drink a quart of milk
and eat an allotment of food every day because we might be tempted to give away our own food. [pause]
It was hard to swallow my portions knowing others were hungry.
I saw the same people stand in line daily. I saw the loss of dignity as they relied on our handouts. [pause,
ponder] Soon an ugly practicality emerged. Many of the babies were dying and we couldn’t waste our
limited resources. So we began weighing the babies. If any were losing weight, we stopped providing
milk to them knowing they would die soon. I thought of my own healthy children at home.
The grassy slopes and fields of Spain reminded me of northern Indiana where people ate well and had
plenty of milk from the cows that grazed on their land. [pause] Why couldn’t the milk from our cows feed
the hungry in Europe? [pause] Or for that matter, why couldn’t we just give them some cows so they
could feed their own children?
Dependence on relief would then be overcome and people would have work. The idea became an
obsession. It wasn’t a cup they needed, but a cow! [pause]
Back home, I spoke cautiously to friends about my dream. I knew it was a pretty big idea, but that’s my
“thing.” I just sprinkle ideas on the ground like seeds—some sprout, some don’t. Lucy told me it was
impossible, but I persisted anyhow.
One friend put aside his skepticism long enough to take me to the superintendent of animal husbandry at
Goshen College. This professor suggested that we send bred heifers to Spain. They wouldn’t need to be
milked during transportation and would soon produce calves.
Next, those northern Indiana faithful caught the vision and came up with the idea of requiring each
recipient to pass on their gift. [pause] That way each recipient would become a donor. Dignity would be
restored! Our gifts would just keep being passed on and on, becoming the difference between relief and
sustainability.
If you’ve ever seen the faces of people standing in a breadline, you’ll know why this was an important
idea. People want to get beyond handouts. What they seek is a “toehold” that can restore self-reliance. A
cow could be that toehold. You see, relief in itself can be degrading, but if you pass on what you receive,
it becomes ennobling. In giving, we are blessed even more than in receiving.
Unfortunately, the world soon plunged into war. We couldn’t help the starving children of Spain, but I
kept on pushing the heifer concept to anyone who would listen.
One day, a gathering of men in my congregation asked me to present my plan for sending heifers to
places where children were hungry. They loved the idea, but I told them I couldn’t find anyone to donate
the heifers that were needed.
“Have Faith, Dan,” said farmer Virgil Mock.
“I’m trying,” I said, “But I need your help.”
“Have Faith,” he repeated, more insistently.
“Yes, Virgil, I most certainly will.”
“No, Dan,” he said. “I mean have my Guernsey calf, Faith. That’s her name.”
Next thing I knew, everyone was speaking up.
“I’ll furnish the feed,” volunteered O. W. Stine.
“I’ll feed her and care for her,” said Stine’s son, Claire.
Two other Guernsey heifers were donated that day, one by Miss Bessie Burns and the other by the
Goshen City Church of the Brethren. They were named Hope and Charity, to go along with Faith.
What an incredible day! [smile fading] There was just one problem. How in the world was I going to get
these animals where they needed to go? To Europe!
The idea began to take on a life of its own. In 1942, the Brethren Service Committee provided shipping to
central holding farms; one of them was the Roop farm in Maryland. At this point, a very important
thing happened: we invited people of other faiths to participate in the project and formed the Heifers for
Relief Committee. Mennonites, Presbyterians, Methodists, Lutherans, and even some Amish gave heifers.
Farmers began to raise heifers specifically for the hungry. They just did it on faith, hoping that there
would be a way to get them to suffering people. Heifers for Relief captured the imagination of many
denominations as a response to world hunger. It was tangible and sustainable, and people loved the idea
of the “pass-on.”
Soon publicity leaflets were printed and ear tags were used to identify these special gifts. But we still
didn’t know how they would be sent.
About this time, a group of Brethren visiting Puerto Rico told stories of a critical need for food there. So
in January 1944, Heifers for Relief and the Farm Security Administration agreed to ship the heifers to
Puerto Rico.
The heifers were dedicated in a worship service at the Rock Run Church of the Brethren in Goshen,
Indiana. Faith, Hope, and Charity were there that day, along with fifteen other bellowing Guernseys,
Jerseys, and milking Shorthorn heifers, plus a new calf that had already come. Soon they were on their
way to Castaner, Puerto Rico. Eleven years later, two of the cows from that first shipment were still
milking.
This was the beginning of a worldwide, interfaith, self-help program known today as Heifer International.
The United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation program provided transportation to send our heifers and
also horses to Europe to help with the reconstruction after World War II. Deckhands were needed to care
for the animals and accompany them to their destinations. Thus, the “seagoing cowboys” were born. Most
were conscientious objectors. There were some “cowgirls” as well.
For eight years shipments of about sixty animals were sent at six-week intervals in the hold of the SS
American Important. Thousands of seagoing cowboys boarded the boats and went on to witness the
ravages of war in Europe. Most speak of their experience as “life-changing.”
As the years passed, developing nations began to request help from Heifer. Not all had the skills in
livestock management, so we partnered with them to make sure they had training and skills to be
successful farmers.
Human beings want to be actors, not spectators, in their liberation from poverty. Unless people feel they
can grow as human beings, master their own destinies, and share in decisions, no amount of material
effort will liberate them. Human beings also long to live in a peaceful world where their children are well
nourished and educated. The day may yet come when we all agree to turn our swords into plowshares by
laying down our guns and doing everything we can to build sustainable communities.
My wish is to be remembered as a peacemaker and a motivator for people to take action once they
understand this simple truth: Peace begins when the hungry can feed themselves.
Let us work together to learn how to live simply [pause] so that others may simply live. Let’s stretch our
horizons beyond our own back yards. Let’s understand that we live in one big family with all of our
brothers and sisters around the globe—and that when anyone of us is hungry, we are also.
Thank you for listening today!
Jan West Schrock, member of the Church of the Brethren and former director of Brethren Volunteer
Service, 1987-1994, is Senior Advisor for Heifer International and works from her home in Westbrook,
Maine.
John Haman, graduate of Hendrix College in Arkansas, is an actor and award-winning playwright. His
play Undraped will soon be professionally produced. His home is in Little Rock, Arkansas.