At 97 years old, Sam Russo enjoys going to work in his cane fields just as much as he did when he first started at the age of 14.
Mr Russo continues to work the land on his 109-hectare cane farm just outside Ingham, in North Queensland, and has no plans to retire.
“The reason I worked on the farm was because I wanted to do nothing else,” he says.
Mr Russo’s father Rosario bought the farm in 1924.
His first job was following the horses with the scarifier, a piece of equipment that prepared the soil for planting.
Each morning, he would wake up at 3am to prepare two horses so that each one could take a break from the work, but there was no break for Mr Russo.
“I remember lying in bed and from walking on soft ground all day, my legs felt numb,” he says.
Not quite a decade into his farm work, Mr Russo’s legs were given a rest when his father bought a 20-horsepower crawler tractor.
His father wasn’t keen on going from manual to machinery, but Mr Russo has always welcomed advancements in technology.
“It sort of just came naturally,” he says.
From Italy to Ingham
Mr Russo’s father migrated to Australia from Italy in 1913.
He previously lived in America for four years working on the railway at just 14 years old.
After he turned 18, he returned to Italy to complete his military service.
While there, he met a farmer who told him there were big landholders subdividing farming land and that if he went to Australia, there would be a good chance he could own some land.
Taking that advice, he moved and cut cane while he saved for his own land.
In 10 years, he saved 10,500 pounds and bought the farm that Mr Russo still runs today.
‘I always knew I wanted a farm girl’
Mr Russo also found success as a bookmaker and would often travel to Townsville on big horse racing days.
He gave up when the government’s gambling restrictions tightened.
“It was good while it lasted, my racing days. I’ll always cherish them,” he says.
In 1969 during an afternoon of bookmaking at the Hotel Allen, he met a waitress named Keren who was from New Zealand on a working holiday.
Keren had planned to travel to Cairns, but had become stuck in Townsville due to the floods.
Mr Russo was impressed that her family owned a dairy farm in the small town of Shannon in New Zealand.
“I knew I always wanted a farm girl,” he says.
Ms Russo said moving to small-town Ingham wasn’t much different for her, it was marrying into an Italian family that was a change.
“The only spaghetti I’d ever had was out of a tin,” she says.
She recalled the first time she met Mr Russo’s parents; she was on the way to the farm for Sunday night spaghetti, thinking about how to twirl her fork so she wouldn’t make a mess.
She was pleased when Sam’s mother served rigatoni pasta.
“It was absolutely brilliant, no trouble at all,” she says.
Sam and Keren have been married for 53 years.
“We’re still good mates, the way we were from the first day,” Mr Russo says.
They have two children, one a lawyer and the other a hairdresser, both living in Sydney.
Mr Russo says he doesn’t know if they will take over the farm as they’ve both found success in the city.
A sweet future
Mr Russo has seen his share of tough seasons in the North Queensland cane fields.
But when asked about any particularly hard years, he says he can’t remember.
“The good years are a little better and the bad a little worse in our part of the world here,” he says.
Not once has he considered leaving the industry.
“I think it just gets into your blood, working on the land.”
Despite also seeing the rhetoric around sugar go from something people can’t get enough of, to something people are told to fear, he’s not worried about its future.
“People will always need sugar,” he says.
He said the Australian sugar industry has huge potential in creating biofuels and plastic alternatives.
“There’s a lot more you can do with sugar than what’s being done now,” he says.
“Sugar has got a big future in the world.”
Mr Russo will celebrate his 98th birthday next year and plans to continue managing the land.
“What do you do? Just sit at home and wait to die?” he says.
“I’ll do as least as I can and run my land.”