ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Tuesday, May 28, 1996 TAG: 9605280015
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV1 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
DATELINE: PEMBROKE
SOURCE: LISA APPLEGATE STAFF WRITER
"Just imagine what America will be like ... when millions of emu will be feeding on our ranches."
Imagine a greener, healthier place to live, says the slick brochure produced by the American Emu Association. With the flightless bird farms, it says, extended families will "once again thrive and grow in reborn rural communities."
Imagine. Where lumbering cattle once grazed green pastures, the birds would glide gracefully, feathers flowing behind them, around hundreds of farms across the state.
Imagine?
It might be tough to visualize what an emu looks like, much less picturing it striding across green hills of Virginia. Ostriches evoke desert landscapes, not a snow-covered Virginia hillside in winter. And what exactly is a rhea anyway?
The last thing you might think about in relation to these birds is using their skin for wallets, their oil to heal wounds, or (gulp) eating their meat instead of beef.
A group of unusual farmers wants to change that, though.
About 30 of the almost 200 Virginia farmers who raise these birds gathered in Pembroke last week to sing the praises of what they see as the biggest boom in farming since the tractor.
They came from all over Central and Southwest Virginia to Ken Warthen's Giles County ostrich farm, one of the largest in the state. They shared bird-rearing tips and news of other farmers across the country. And, they came to eat sizzling hot patties of all three meats: ostrich, emu and rhea.
"Yes indeedy. In fact, we're going to eat one of my infertile males today," said Jerry Cruey, a rhea farmer from Tazewell County. "Hey, if you can't do the job, you're out of there."
Cruey owns 12 pairs of rhea. He retired from the Army and was looking for something to do with a few acres when he found the blossoming industry. He'll tell you anything you ever wanted to know about the birds, known collectively as ratites, and more.
"Oh, it's exciting. People are using it for the oil, the leather, the meat.
The Latin word ratite defines any large, flightless birds with flat breastplates, as opposed to the aerodynamic ridge seen in flying birds. The designation includes the immense ostrich, the 4-foot emu and the small ostrich look-a-like called the rhea.
Cindy Harmon, from Buckingham County, built a 5-acre farm for two males and five females a year ago. She stays home with her two small children, but hopes to match her husband's income next year with the farm.
Ostriches, Harmon said, "beats the hell out of a cow." Pound for pound, ostriches produce more meat for the feed they eat than cows. They produce anywhere from 40 to 100 eggs during their six-month breeding season. They prefer to eat alfalfa or other grasses and only need an acre or so of land - enough to stretch their long, backward-bending legs.
Harmon serves as president of the Virginia Ostrich Association; Mel Kurtz, a farmer from Lynchburg, came to the meeting to represent the Virginia Emu Association. There also is a Virginia Ratite Association.
Why so many different groups?
Personality conflicts and differing goals, said Kurtz, caused varying bird groups to split from under the Ratite Association umbrella.
"But things are better now. We've got good presidents and we're working together now," he said.
They need all the group support they can get to raise the word ratite into normal consumer vocabulary.
Emu oil, it seems, is already being used by the National Football League and several pro basketball teams. The greaseless liquid soothes bruises and heals cuts quickly. There's even talk of using the oil for internal diseases, such as cancer.
But the main source of revenue for these hopeful farmers is the meat, a low-fat, low-cholesterol, high-protein alternative to beef.
Right now, the red meat is only being sold to gourmet restaurants and by mail-order. In Virginia, the meat is still classified as exotic, and farmers must pay $35 an hour to have USDA inspectors approve their meat.
One day, they hope, things will resemble Texas or California, where meat is sold in grocery stores and processing plants specialize in ratite production.
For now, they'll keep meeting with other farmers and inviting guests to get a firsthand taste of the newest in carnivore consumption.
(The taste, by the way, is like beef, with the same consistency and look. One thing is missing, though: Dripping, oozing, fatty juice. The price you pay for healthy eating, one surmises.)
LENGTH: Medium: 91 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: GENE DALTON/Staf. 1. A curious ostrich (right) peeksby CNBover the fence at the Featherquest Farm in Giles County. 2. Chelsea
Weikle (below) holds an ostrich egg at the farm. color. 3. Mel Kurtz
grills the emu and ostrich burgers at last week's gathering.