Pine trees provide backdrop for homemade symbol of faith

A thin layer of snow stubbornly hangs on beneath a row of pine trees near Onamia in central Minnesota April 21. On a sunny but unseasonably cold afternoon, two brothers shovel dirt side by side on land their family has owned for more than 100 years. Thus begins an annual spring ritual — now five decades old — of planting young pines in the grassy field, alongside the older trees they planted in previous years. 

On the north end of their property is the farmhouse where one of them was born. Just about 100 yards to the east of where they are working is a homemade cross pushing up about 40 feet into the sky, overlooking what has become an impressive pine tree farm. 

For more than 60 years, the brothers have watched crops like corn and hay grow and go to harvest, and they also have watched — and helped with — the raising of chickens and cattle. Some of the fruits of these labors ended up going several miles down the road to a religious order — deliveries of up to 200 eggs twice a week for more than a decade. 

Joe Kawalek, 70, of All Saints in Lakeville, is the fourth of 10 children and the oldest son born to Charles and Marie Kawalek, who bought the farm from a relative in the 1940s and worked the land until 1995, when they began renting to other local farmers. Joe eventually bought 80 of his parents’ 120 acres, and began planting trees with his brother, Mike, 66, in 2009. Mike, who belongs to St. Thomas Becket in Eagan, owns 50 acres of the farm. 

In recent years, as Joe watched pine trees on the farm grow to heights of 30 to 40 feet, he wanted to place something on the property that would express his Catholic faith and be visible to people visiting the property and to those driving past it on the highway marking the northern border of their land. 

An idea came to him in 2020. It involved wood left over from a fence-building project — two 4-by-4 white oak planks stored in Joe’s garage. He figured he could use the wood to make a cross. Then came another thought — raising the cross high enough to remain visible above the tops of the farm’s numerous pine trees. 

A nephew just happened to have a wooden power line pole that Joe thought would be perfect for attaching the cross and raising it up above the trees. This same nephew also had the means to transport the pole to the land. So, Joe, Mike, their nephew, their sister and another nephew formed an installation crew that erected what Joe hopes will be a permanent symbol of his Catholic faith. 

There’s an interesting twist to the story: The wood used for the cross — the two planks (16 feet and 6 ½ feet) in Joe’s garage — had been cut from a felled oak on the Kawalek farm in the 1970s. A man in Lakeville — Joe’s former co-worker — wanted to build a board rail fence for his horses, and bought wood from the Kawaleks. In 1985, Joe and his wife, Eileen, bought that same house and noticed the leftover planks in their garage. They sat there until 2020, when Joe started thinking about what to do with them. 

That year marked the 100th anniversary of the birth of his mother, who died in 1998 and had spent most of her life on the Onamia farm, having moved there with her parents when she was 5. Joe wanted to commemorate that centennial, and also decided “it’s time to do something” with the wood planks. 

After the 40-foot cross was installed, Joe formed a daily ritual of taking a walk to the cross at sunrise whenever he stayed overnight on the land. He visits throughout the spring, summer and fall, especially during tree planting time. 

“I guess it’s simple,” he said of his desire to erect the cross. “It’s the right thing to do.” 

It also fits in with the surroundings, which feature a mixture of pine trees, hardwoods, natural grasses and crop land, plus wildlife like whitetail deer roaming the acreage. Joe originally started planting trees to help wildlife, especially the deer, thrive. 

“It’s peaceful,” he said, of spending time at the farm, and he considers being there a spiritual experience — one he is happy to share with others. Every year, he and Mike pick a day or two in the spring to invite other family members to come up and help with tree planting. To his delight, the crew sometimes spans three generations. 

They’ll do some planting with an older model tractor that Mike found and bought about 10 years ago. They also do some of it the old-fashioned way, with shovels and elbow grease. The survival rate of their planted trees is about 60%, and evidence of their success abounds on the property. They plant about 1,000 to 2,000 trees every year, including white pine, red pine, white cedar, red cedar, black spruce, white spruce and balsam. This year, they are planting 1,000 red pines, plus 500 each of chokecherry and juneberry. The original planting was 1,000 red pines in 1977 and 1,000 red pines and 1,000 white pines in 1978. 

“All by hand,” Joe said of those first two years. “That took days to plant” all of them. 

The crown jewel of the property is a 50-foot white pine that the family transplanted from one part of the farm to a spot near the farmhouse in 1925. They used a sleigh to carry the tree, then still under 7 feet, across the property to a spot near the highway, where it is still viewed and admired today. 

Most of the pines don’t last that long, Joe said, as harvest is necessary to provide regeneration of trees. About one third are harvested at about the 40-year mark, another third come down 30 to 50 years after that, and the final third are taken out at about 150 years, Joe said. A year ago, he hired a logger to harvest one third of the original trees from 1977 and 1978, which he estimated to be between 200 and 300 trees. He said there are at least 500 of them left, and they stand between 30 and 40 feet tall. The logger takes trees to a local sawmill, where they are processed for lumber. 

As he looks to the future, Joe will continue managing the farm for pine trees, which he simply calls “taking care of what we’ve been given.” He hopes to add a bench and some wildflowers near the cross, and plans to invite a local priest to come out and celebrate Mass in front of it. 

The way he applies his faith to the task of planting and growing pine trees is more lived than spoken. He sums it up this way: “The world is God’s, and we’ve got to take care of it.”