JUDGE CONSIDERS FATE OF HIS METH-TAINTED FAMILY FARM

VERNON CENTER, Minn. -- A lot of history has seeped into the gravel
driveway connecting the old barns and sheds on the farm where Judge
Norbert Smith was raised.

There's the oil that's dripped from tractors used to plant and
harvest the 380 acres of tillable land. Champagne was surely spilled
during the wedding receptions hosted on the open grounds, not to
mention the beer and soda that has slipped out of cups and cans
during graduation celebrations, family reunions and other gatherings
on the property.

Then there's the sweat. Pints of it have been left in the dirt and
around the barns over the years while Smith and his siblings were
doing, "many hours of maintenance as mandated by the old man."

Smith, now a Blue Earth County District Court judge, was kicking up
dust and soaking in the scenery at his childhood home, which has
fallen into disrepair since it was sold about 20 years ago, when he
revealed what he and his family really want to do with the old farm.

If they had their way, Smith said, an open space nestled up against
the Watonwan River would be the only reminder of the property that
was once a source of pride for their late father, Paul.

"The farm site was my father's life and he prided himself on
maintaining it," Smith said. "If we had the money, we'd buy it back
and bulldoze it down -- level it -- so it wouldn't be what it is today."

There's a good chance the dangerous chemicals used to make
methamphetamine are now poisoning the ground at the former Smith farm
west of Vernon Center. Brett Bach, 32, a tenant of the farms new
owner, was arrested in March for making the drug. That was after a
neighbor, a mile away, heard and saw an explosion that blew a hole in
the roof of a metal shed at the farm.

The blast and its aftermath jolted current owner Tim Nelson into a
"rude awakening." The construction contractor has been pouring money
into the building site since he bought it. He wanted to finance
building repairs and help pay for the property by finding renters for
the two houses there.

"I was hoping to tinker around and fix it up," Nelson said. "Put on
new siding, replace the windows, all things I do every day. It didn't
work out that way. Now I have no income coming in, just expenses."

His first set of tenants didn't like to pay rent. When Bach moved
into one of the houses, he started paying his rent with cash and was
even making improvements to the house. Both clues, Nelson learned
later, that should have been tips that something suspicious was going
on. There were other clues, too, such as containers for acetone,
starting fluid and Pseudofed pills.

One of Bach's first projects was to replace the furnace in the house
he was renting. After the suspected methamphetamine lab was
discovered, investigators told Nelson the reason for the furnace
switch was so Bach could vent the gases from the lab out through the
houses chimney.

"It was quite the elaborate thing," Nelson said. "He even tiled the
basement floor, so I got to where I wasn't too worried about
anything. I thought, if he's doing stuff like that, he must be taking
care of the place.

"If I was going to rent the place out again, I would say that once a
month I'm coming over without telling you to check things out."

It will be awhile before that happens. Before the house Bach was in
can be rented again, or even lived in by Nelson or a new land owner,
a lot of work has to be done.

Nelson was told he has to clean the heating system's duct work, hose
the entire house down, wash the walls and floors with bleach and
refinish or paint all the woodwork.

The septic system has to be pumped and checked for chemicals used in
methamphetamine production, and the well water has to be tested for
contamination.

On top of those expenses, Nelson also has been billed by the Lake
Crystal and Madelia fire departments for the work they did at the
farm site after the explosion.

A propane tank that had been filled with anhydrous ammonia, a
chemical used for making meth, was being stored in a deep hole inside
the shed. It blew up, turning the cylinder into a flat piece of
metal, hurling chunks of concrete as far as 50 to 60 feet and leaving
a gaping hole in the shed's tin roof.

Another bill could be coming from the county and law enforcement
agencies for the cost of cleaning up the suspected methamphetamine lab.

Just like water damage in the basement, roof problems or a
noncompliant septic system, whether you've had a methamphetamine lab
on your property is something potential buyers want to know, said
Darrell Hylen, a real estate agent with Wingert Realty and Land
Services in Mankato. The information is now commonly included on real
estate disclosure forms.

Hylen grew up about seven miles north of the Smith farm and owns land
nearby. What happened at the farm is a topic of conversation for
neighbors, he said.

"There's a lot of good people who live out there," he said. "They've
lived out there their whole lives. They don't like seeing this happen."

As agriculture has changed, though, its gotten more difficult to sell
the building sites of old farms, said Chuck Wingert, owner of the
business. Farmers will buy tillable land, but they often don't need
the houses, out buildings and storage bins. There's a demand for
building sites that can be used as hobby farms for raising horses, a
few smaller animals or some chickens. But those buyers usually only
need a barn for their animals and, maybe, a storage shed. They also
want to be within five to 15 miles of town.

And sellers don't want to keep the building sites and rent them out
due to the same headaches Nelson found with getting good tenants, he
added. That's without considering the problems meth labs bring.

"A good party on the weekend can do $5,000 in damage," Wingert said.
"So it doesn't take long to cure them of that notion."

Even if good tenants are found, its hard to get the amount of rent
needed to justify the cost of building sites.

Todd Schwanke and Mike Smith, Norbert Smiths brother-in-law and
brother, still own a strip of rough acres between Nelson's property
and the river. They use it for hunting and gathering firewood.

Schwanke, married to Smith's sister Mary, is a deputy with the Steele
County Sheriff's Department. He said he has suspected something
illegal was going on at the farm for awhile.

In November, while Schwanke and his son were working in the woods,
they found the remains of a portable meth lab. He knew what it was
immediately and reported the find to the Blue Earth County Sheriffs Department.

"We suspected it was linked to the building site, but we couldn't
prove it," he said.

Even before that there were clues, Schwanke said. The window shades
were always drawn on the two houses. And, if someone was outside when
the Schwankes were driving up to the property, they would always go inside.

Then there was the time last winter, while Schwanke was sawing wood,
when one of the tenants started shooting bullets from his .22-caliber
rifle into the trees above Schwankes head. The tenant later told a
Blue Earth County deputy that he was target shooting and didn't
realize people were out there.

"I'm sure he was trying to scare us off," Schwanke said. "It's
extremely sad to see the situation the farm place is in now: A nice
family farm turned into a place for criminal activity and ran into the ground."

In an e-mail to family members after his recent visit to the farm,
Norbert Smith agreed with his brother-in-laws assessment.

"The place is more than just worn down from neglect," he wrote.
"People have actively abused it. Somebody is using the place as a
junk yard as there are piles of metal here and there almost at
random. Lots of weeds, peeling paint, missing shingles, broken
windows, etc. The brick house has a sign on it indicating that it is
not habitable due to the hazardous waste, which relates to the meth lab.

"I do not intend to ever return absent winning the lottery, buying it
back into the family and leveling the place." .