Back-to-back ribbon-cutting events recently took place at two iconic East Valley farms. What might get lost in the pomp and circumstance is that both generational farm families were quietly and earnestly farming this land decades ago — one of them, a century ago.

Their origins represent a hardscrabble life of endurance, courage and adaptability.

The Arizona Urban Agriculture Foundation officially opened its new Agricultural Educational Pavilion on April 27 at Agritopia in Gilbert, a bright, hands-on classroom out in the open, just like farming the land. And just a day later, another milestone: the ribbon cutting for Homestead Malting (part of Sossaman Farms in Queen Creek), bringing malting and grain heritage into this special place.

Standing under the desert sun for one and inside a grain cleaning and sorting facility for another, watching scissors snip through ribbon and smiles stretch wide across generations, I couldn’t help but feel a deep, sentimental tug.

These aren’t just new buildings. They’re proof that two long-time Arizona farm families, the Johnstons of Agritopia and the Sossamans of Homestead Malting, refuse to let our farming story fade, even as subdivisions, apartment buildings and shopping centers have grown up around them like stubborn weeds.

I’ve known these families for decades, having grown up with them and through my work with Arizona Farm Bureau. The Johnstons have been tending this land for decades, when it was a humble homestead growing cotton, wheat and alfalfa. Jim and Virginia Johnston bought the farm in 1960 and raised their boys here.

Fast-forward through decades of change, and eldest son Joe Johnston — Stanford-educated, visionary and forever rooted in the soil — made the bold choice to “un-sprawl.” Instead of selling out completely to the urban wave crashing over Gilbert, the family reimagined Agritopia as a community where the farm heritage stays at the center, even while their farm fields grew smaller.

That old farmhouse became Joe’s Farm Grill. The barn turned into Barnone. That old farmhouse used to host Sunday school, parties and birthday celebrations, which I attended as a child. Change is the constant: now I attend that farmhouse, Joe’s Farm Grill, to feast on a “Chicken Farm Salad,” my favorite. Whoever imagined an old farmhouse could serve so much to so many?  

And now, this education pavilion stands as the latest chapter — inviting schoolkids to plant, harvest, cook and truly understand where their food comes from.

Then there’s the Sossaman family, whose roots run just as deep in Queen Creek and the surrounding fields. The first generation of Sossamans arrived in Arizona in 1914, homesteading after hardship back East. They built a legacy of cotton, wheat, watermelons and more — growing it into a thousand-acre operation that fed families for generations.

Great-grandsons Steve and Scott Sossaman and their kin have always been innovators, lately turning old world heritage grains into something new and vibrant. Their new malt operation at Sossaman Farms, Homestead Malting, takes those ancient and heirloom grains and transforms them into the heart of craft beer and beyond. It’s not just business; it’s storytelling in every kernel.

Sossaman ribbon cutting for new Homestead Malting.

What moves me most is how both families have watched the same thing happen: the city grew up around their farms like a rising tide. Fields, smaller now, that once stretched to the horizon, sit shoulder-to-shoulder with neighborhoods.

Yet instead of packing up, these families leaned in. They adapted — turning farms into gathering places, education hubs and yes, even malt houses — while holding tight to what matters: teaching the next generation that Arizona agriculture isn’t a relic. It’s alive, resilient, adaptable and essential.

As urban growth swallowed so much farmland around us, these two families could have chosen the easy path. But they didn’t. They chose commitment. A deep, stubborn, inspiring commitment to keep telling Arizona’s agricultural story — through classrooms where kids get dirt under their fingernails, through grains malted right here in the desert heat, through dinners served from fields you can see from your table.

They remind us that progress doesn’t have to mean forgetting our roots. It can mean planting new ones.

To the Johnstons and the Sossamans: thank you. Your ribbon cuttings this week weren’t just about shiny new spaces. They were about hope. About legacy. About proving that even as our communities change, Arizona agriculture endures — in the soil, in the classrooms, in the malts and most of all, in the hearts of families like yours who never stopped believing in what this land can grow.

Here’s to the next harvest, the next classroom full of wide-eyed kids and the next pint raised in honor of the farmers who came before. Arizona’s story is still being written — one ribbon, one seed, one generation at a time.