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.”

Poisoned ground

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 farm’s 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 house’s 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.