It’s What We Do – It’s Who We Are
By March Arnusch
There are certain moments in time that directly reflect what it’s like being part of a rural community. In years gone by, it might have been a barn raising or in eastern Ky, a tobacco harvest. Recently however, it was the funeral for Rusty Brucker, who asked a favor of an old friend. The answer came easily for Marc Arnusch and that’s how the funeral service for Rusty Brucker came to be held at Arnusch Farms.
“We were honored by the request,” Marc said. Rusty had spent a fair amount of time in Marc’s farm shop over the years — stopping by, helping with projects, sharing stories. It had become something of a home away from home for him. Knowing that he felt comfortable there meant a great deal.
Rusty was, by every account, a farmer through and through.
He loved the land. He loved growing a crop and caring for the land. Farming wasn’t simply his job. It was part of who he was. It only made sense that the place he wanted to say goodbye would be the place that felt most like home: the farm.
The day of the service offered a powerful glimpse into the life Rusty lived.
What stood out most to Marc wasn’t just the setting — though that was meaningful in its own right. The service took place inside the farm shop, surrounded by the machinery that defines so much of a farmer’s life. Combines and equipment lined the space, and Rusty’s American flag was draped between the augers of two combines — as if the machines themselves were saluting a farmer who had spent his life working the land.
It was a fitting tribute.
But what truly spoke volumes was the crowd.
Neighbors stood alongside co-workers. Vendors, friends, and members of the community gathered together. There were bikers in attendance, and even a few Hells Angels among those who came to pay their respects. Rusty, it turns out, didn’t know a stranger. The remarkable range of people who showed up that day reflected the kind of life he had lived — one built on loyalty, hard work, and genuine connection.
One of the most moving moments came during a slideshow the family had prepared.
Those in attendance were given a behind-the-curtain glimpse of Rusty’s life — not just the gruff, hardworking farmer many knew, but the younger man, the husband, the father, and the grandfather who loved his family deeply. It revealed a more personal side of Rusty that he often kept tucked behind that weathered exterior.
It also reminded everyone present that while Rusty was a respected farmer, he was an even better family man.
Opening the farm for the service meant a great deal to the Arnusch family. It provided a place where neighbors and friends could come together to say goodbye to a man who cared deeply about both people and the land. It was a send-off done the farmer’s way. And perhaps that’s where the title of this story finds its meaning. “It’s what we do — it’s who we are.”
In rural places, helping neighbors isn’t something that requires planning or debate. It’s simply part of the way life works. Rusty lived that philosophy every day. He was known for showing up when someone needed help, for being steady, loyal, and dependable. He also believed something many farmers quietly understand — that a person can often be measured by how hard they work. By that measure, Rusty set the bar high.
For younger generations in attendance, the experience offered a powerful lesson: community still matters. Neighbors still look out for one another in both good times and difficult ones. Those values remain deeply rooted in rural places. For anyone new to this area, the story offers a simple truth about local farmers. Yes, they work long hours and spend most of their days focused on the land. But they care deeply about the people around them as well.
Around here, people show up for one another.
They show up during harvest.
They show up when someone needs help.
And they show up when it’s time to honor a life well lived.
Rusty Brucker was exactly the kind of person people show up for. That in itself made it easy for Marc to honor Rusty’s request. “Rusty was a friend, a farmer, and a neighbor,” he said. “When someone like Rusty asks to be remembered in a place that meant something to him, saying yes was the easy part.”
And somewhere — perhaps in the most beautiful hayfield in heaven — it’s comforting for Marc to imagine Rusty today. The baling conditions are perfect, the windrow is just right, and he’s making four left turns across a golden field.
Rest easy, Rusty from one farmer and friend to another.
