When the festivities ended in 1969, many traveled north to live off the land. Dubbed \u201cBack to the Landers,\u201d they settled mainly in three regions in Northern California: Mendocino, Humboldt and Trinity counties, which all make up the Emerald Triangle. The area is known for its legacy farms that started the cannabis industry. That includes Casali who is still homesteading his mother\u2019s property, Huckleberry Hill Farms<\/a>, 50 years later.<\/p>\n At Huckleberry Hill Farms, Casali\u2019s mother grew their own food. She planted fruit trees and grape arbors that still produce today, alongside flower gardens woven throughout the idyllic hillside property. The garden isfilled with the history of the cannabis cultivars they\u2019ve painstakingly produced over the years, in memory of loved ones now passed. <\/p>\n Casali\u2019s earliest memories are of those following his mother around the garden. \u201cCannabis was always part of our life from the very beginning, but it wasn\u2019t the only crop on the farm,\u201d Casali says. \u201cI can remember running around with my mother as early as 10 years old, helping her cultivate the plant, but also tending to a grape arbor, fruit trees and the vegetable garden we ate from. Cannabis was just another crop that allowed us to survive and thrive in the country.\u201d<\/p>\n Growing their own food, fishing commercially and logging and\/or chopping firewood for others are just a few ways those living a rural life survived on the north coast of California and Oregon. Cannabis was grown on the side as a subsidy. Many produce farmers also grew cannabis in a don\u2019t ask, don\u2019t tell scenario that served them well for years. That is, until the helicopters came.<\/p>\n The Campaign Against Marijuana Planting, otherwise known as CAMP (1983 \u2013 2012; 2015 \u2013 present) is a multi-agency law enforcement task force under the jurisdiction of the California Department of Justice that coordinates local, state and federal agencies, including Army soldiers and National Guardsmen, with a common goal of eradicating unlicensed cannabis cultivation and distribution in the state.<\/p>\n What CAMP did was federally fund, or subsidize, a bevy of local law enforcement for the failed War on Drugs. Just as with the failed DARE program taught in schools by paying police officers to teach kids about drugs, CAMP created a cash flow to otherwise lowly paid law enforcement, causing them to become dependent, and subsequently support, the failed War on Drugs at the polls. This only perpetuated the ignorance surrounding cannabis, a benign and beneficial plant.<\/p>\n No matter that California legalized medical cannabis in 1996, and had permitted adult-use since 2016. City, county and state agencies were guaranteed an income for raiding local, legal medical farms and associated entities for years under federal prohibition of the plant. With the combined funding, CAMP utilized helicopters in its multi-agency task force, forcing the plant\u2013meant to grow outside in the sun\u2013inside. <\/p>\n This changed the face of cannabis farming for decades\u2013if not forever.<\/p>\n When he was 15 years old, Casali begged his mom to start his own farm. Not young enough to purchase an 11-acre parcel on his own, she co-signed, and he provided the down payment for a sweet spot along the Eel River in Southern Humboldt.<\/p>\n \u201cMom and I would compete for the best crop,\u201d Casali says with a smile. \u201cBut then CAMP started in the \u201980s, and by the early \u201990s, my parents decided that fishing would be safer, so they left me to take care of the family farm.\u201d<\/p>\n CAMP helicopters forced farmers to grow under trees and often underground in shipping containers to hide. The plant that once provided five or ten pounds at full growth out in the sun now produced substantially less in its hidden, stunted capacity.<\/p>\n But hiding wasn\u2019t enough, and one morning just after sunrise, 30 federal agents arrived at the farm. They never handcuffed the farmer or his friend and neighbor Todd Wick who were both 24 years old at the time. Rather, they handed Casali a little yellow speeding ticket, saying they\u2019d be back if they needed to talk to him further. Fourteen months later, they returned, offering up a hefty $275,000 bail for Casali.<\/p>\n \u201cMy mom put up the house and everything else she owned to get me out of jail,\u201d Casali says. \u201cFor the next three years, Todd and I drove from Southern Humboldt to the federal courthouse in San Francisco to fight for our freedom as cannabis farmers\u2014as good people, never wanting to hurt anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n Some 100 supporters from Humboldt arrived for the sentencing that included mandatory minimums of ten years, all the way up to life. Casali and Wick surrendered in the summer of 1996, just a few months before California would vote to legalize medical cannabis in the state\u2014the first to do so in the country.<\/p>\n \u201cThere was no appeal process based on the new medical laws,\u201d he says. \u201cBecause we had no more money left to fight for both appeals, Todd went through the process and lost. After that, we were resigned to be in the system until we served our time.\u201d<\/p>\n Because Casali and Wick were farmers, licensed and able to operate heavy equipment, much of their time served was spent working agricultural crops associated with the <\/strong>US Penitentiary at Lompoc, at around 12 cents an hour.<\/p>\n A little-known element of the failed privatized prison system is its eventual transferring of jobs that used to be done by private citizens. Not all jobs in America went overseas during the 1980s. Everything from manufacturing foodstuffs to shower doors to the 411 information line went to prisoners for pennies an hour\u2014a travesty not often discussed in the politicking of job gains and losses in the US.<\/p>\n Since the Lompoc prison camp didn\u2019t have a residential drug program, Casali was transferred to Nellis Airforce Base, where he said he actually learned something about drugs and addicts.<\/p>\n \u201cWhile the program didn\u2019t apply to me and my cannabis use or farming of it, I learned a lot about true addicts out there, and how they really lose their ability to control what they consume and how much,\u201d he says. \u201cPersonally, I don\u2019t believe cannabis falls into that category at all.\u201d <\/p>\n Casali added that, ironically, the prison system is loaded with offerings of any drug desired, and it\u2019s up to the prisoner to abstain or face consequences of a higher security stay with less privileges.<\/p>\n After serving eight of the ten-year sentence for good behavior, Casali was released to a half-way house in the Tenderloin, San Francisco\u2019s notorious (and worst) neighborhood. He then came back home to Humboldt and began farming his beloved cannabis once more, under California\u2019s newly established cooperative medical cannabis compassionate care program<\/a>.<\/p>\n \u201cI had 50 people here in this community waiting to help me get my life back in order,\u201d Casali said. \u201cEveryone here knows it could have happened to anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n Call it a barn raising at its finest, the struggle\u2019s nothing new to cannabis farmers across the country in newly legalized states. They support each other while fighting issues of inequality, exorbitantly high taxes and ridiculous ordinances at every turn.<\/p>\n These farmers struggle through the same challenges as our food farmers\u2014drought, storms, frost, low prices at market. But they\u2019re also confronted with the failed War on Drugs, brutal governmental raids, prison time and subsequent criminality upon re-entering society.<\/p>\n The only difference between cannabis farmers and food farmers is that there aren\u2019t any government subsidies for a low return in the ever evolving multi-billion-dollar cannabis market. There\u2019s no category for small, craft cannabis farmers that would help them compete with large-scale corporate operations that sprung up across the state after legalization in 2016.<\/p>\n In the old legal medical market of California, the price per pound could fetch somewhere between $3,000 and $4,000. In California\u2019s regulated recreational market, the farmers were promised up to $1,200 per pound, per contract. But in the final analysis of bringing it to market, farmers were offered a take-it-or-leave-it deal of just $400 a pound, contract or not. How did this happen?<\/p>\n \u201cIt costs me close to $500 to grow one pound,\u201d Casali says. \u201cTo give you an example of a neighboring ag situation, Napa Valley grape growers are taxed $15 per acre and cannabis farmers are taxed between $4,200 to $5,000 per acre. That\u2019s $1 per square foot; making cannabis the highest taxed agricultural crop in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n Add $161.28 California State tax per pound, then $150 or so per pound to trim, plus Water Board, Fish & Game fees and untold thousands of additional dollars for improvements made for most farmers to come into compliance. Anyone can see that, on paper, this is the beginning of the collapse of the historic, heritage small cannabis farmers.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re predicting that by the next season, we\u2019ll lose 50% of our small farmers up here,\u201d Casali says.<\/p>\n To provide a better overall idea about what California\u2019s cannabis industry to the north has been through since the legalization of adult-use began, the County of Humboldt estimated that there were 15,000 small cannabis farmers operating when legalization went on the ballot with Prop. 64<\/a> in November of 2016\u2014with no issues of meeting supply and demand, and nary a pound left on any shelf.<\/p>\n Today, there are currently 400 permit holders in Humboldt County alone, with Casali predicting 200 will have to stop farming in the next year, unable to afford to farm in a legal market.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen we lost the one-acre rule the night before legalization, that put a nail in the coffin of most of our small farmers,\u201d Casali says. \u201cThe corporate farms, or those with the most financial backing, began buying up the smaller farm\u2019s licenses, beginning what\u2019s called \u2018stacking licenses.\u2019 One large-scale, well-funded farm nearby has maybe 20 licenses stacked right now.\u201d<\/p>\n The one-acre rule was supposed to be the saving grace for the small farmer. The way it was taken away the night before legalization with lobbyists in a secret, closed-door meeting with California Gov. Gavin Newsom left many appalled. Many people called it a \u201cgood-old boys club\u201d of wealthy California cannabis entities looking to operate beyond promised limits.<\/p>\n Cooperative umbrellas were another way the small farmer hoped to survive, but with a $400 per pound reimbursement, even those entities fell short at market.<\/p>\n Finger pointing aside, one issue slightly overlooked is the lack of safe access or retail space available for moving plant material from the farm. With a national insistence that the plant is not beneficial, many conservative cities and counties have banned cannabis access points. <\/p>\n Casalis\u2019 partner, Rose Moberly, joined him three years ago, relocating from her home state of Colorado, where she too learned to farm cannabis at an early age. \u201cWe both went to community college but gravitated back to our true passion, farming the plant,\u201d Moberly says.<\/p>\n Sadly, Casali\u2019s mother passed away while he was serving time. One year to the day of his imprisonment, she died of a heart attack while pulling canned goods from a freezer; she had planned on bringing them to Casalion her next visit to see him in prison. <\/p>\n \u201cMy mother taught me everything I know about farming,\u201d Casali says. \u201cThis farm is her legacy, and I just had to find a way to honor her. So, we created a new cultivar from a favorite strain she created, Paradise Punch, by crossing it with both Blueberry Kush and Lavender Kush, to make Mom\u2019s Weed.\u201d<\/p>\n When Moberly became part of his life on the farm, Casali said it could no longer be just about him.<\/p>\n \u201cRose\u2019s mom, Margie Zietz, battled cancer and passed away in 2020,\u201d he says. \u201cWe took Paradise Punch and crossed it with Rose\u2019s mom\u2019s favorite strain, Wishful Thinking, creating Margie\u2019s Magic.\u201d<\/p>\n For the small cannabis farmer still standing, many feel that branding is the key to success in the new market. Personalized cultivars grown in the sun for years in loamy redwood soil can\u2019t be compared to indoor, large-scale operations. Promoting this difference is critical, and branding Huckleberry Farms \u201cMom\u201d cultivars has been key in getting their flower to market.<\/p>\n Aside from the hard work and red tape that comes with being cannabis farmers, there are perks and magic to be found in the hills of the Emerald Triangle, with Casali and Moberly offering up wishes to special visitors via crystals.<\/p>\n \u201cWe had a load of rocks delivered from the local quarry and noticed some of the rocks smashed were hollow and full of crystals,\u201d Casali says. \u201cSo, we began putting them aside and saving them for guests to open up.\u201d<\/p>\n Everything about Huckleberry Hill Farms feels sentimental. The crystals, the mother plants, the fruit trees and grape arbors. The general layout of this small, less-than-an-acre farm has been landscaped with love and intention\u2014with the cannabis plant and the people who love her memorialized at every turn. It\u2019s a true trickle-down culture, straight from the farm, that not many will ever be aware of as they enjoy Huckleberry Hill\u2019scultivars. <\/p>\n \u201cCannabis is a profoundly mysterious plant,\u201d Casali says reflectively. \u201cAnd such a powerful, healing plant, that even after working with it my entire life, it feels like I\u2019ve just begun to truly understand her. Rose and I are just grateful to be here another season. To be able to farm this land that my mother found for us and loved. Did I take one for the team by serving time in prison? Yes, and no. We\u2019re going forward with love and good intentions for this life we love on the farm. That\u2019s really what it\u2019s all about.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" In the mid 1970s, by the time John Casali was five years old, his mother, Marlene Farrell, had relocated them from his birthplace of San Francisco to a farm in Southern Humboldt County. Starting in 1967, more than 100,000 people gathered in San Francisco\u2019s Golden Gate Park and Haight-Ashbury district, where mostly young people identifying as hippies engaged in drugs, free love and anti-war activism. Deemed \u201cThe Summer of Love,\u201d the social phenomenon offered the world a window into America\u2019s growing counterculture. When the festivities ended in 1969, many traveled north to live off the land. Dubbed \u201cBack to the Landers,\u201d they settled mainly in… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"fifu_image_url":"","fifu_image_alt":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4976","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marijuana_information"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4976","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4976"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4976\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4976"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4976"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4976"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![](\"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/03\/face-of-the-farmer-john-casali-huckleberry-hill-farms.jpg\")
<\/a>CAMP California<\/strong><\/h4>\n
The Raid<\/strong><\/h4>\n
Farming In Prison<\/strong><\/h4>\n
![](\"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/03\/face-of-the-farmer-john-casali-huckleberry-hill-farms-1.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\nPrice Per Pound<\/strong><\/h4>\n
![](\"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/03\/face-of-the-farmer-john-casali-huckleberry-hill-farms-2.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\nGrowing A Mother\u2019s Love<\/strong><\/h4>\n
![](\"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/03\/face-of-the-farmer-john-casali-huckleberry-hill-farms-3.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\nCrystal Clear<\/strong><\/h4>\n
![](\"https:\/\/thcinct.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/03\/face-of-the-farmer-john-casali-huckleberry-hill-farms-4.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n