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One man returns home in his pickup truck from his job managing a fruit processing plant near Empire to greet his children as they step off the yellow school bus. Another shares a homemade dinner with his wife and kids, then naps before working the nightshift in the radiology unit at Munson Medical Center. A third man retreats upstairs and uses a hand-me-down sewing machine to mend a customer’s torn Christmas stocking—his side gig to make extra money for his family after he works daytime hours at Spectrum. These could be the stories of any hard-working men in Leelanau County. In fact, they represent the everyday rituals of three Afghan refugees who worked with the U.S. military and then fled for their safety after the Taliban took Kabul and seized power four years ago.

Cherries are the calling card of Northern Michigan. They represent our home, just as citrus speaks for Florida, or as lobsters lobby for Maine. Here in the North, orchards define our landscape, U-Picking is a cherished tradition and a slice of pie means “I love you.” But cherry farmers these days face a perfect storm of challenges, from environmental to political. Erratic swings in temperature caused by climate change threaten cherry buds in the spring; cheap foreign imports have undercut prices that U.S. farmers can expect to earn; workers needed to harvest crops have grown scarce due to unaffordable housing prices and restrictive national immigration policies; and the local real estate frenzy has disincentivized growers from staying on their land when they can sell their orchards for millions.

How our broken immigration system hurts Leelanau County farmers By Jacob Wheeler Sun editor Rosa Valenzuela and her family look forward to their annual trip up north, to see old friends, to prepare picnics in the park and to swim in Lake Michigan when the waters warm by mid-summer. But the Valenzuelas are not your […]

That pie you ate at Cherry Republic last week wasn’t the fruit of a local tart cherry farmer’s labor — not this year, at least. The Glen Arbor retail company’s quick-thinking president Bob Sutherland imported those pie cherries from Poland after extreme weather this spring all but wiped out northern Michigan’s tart cherry crop.