"We're one of those places you go by a hundred times and never know we're there," says Les Richardson, of his family's farm and retail store. Tucked away in Baltimore County between the creeping sprawl of White Marsh and the not-yet-fashionable Bowleys Quarters, Richardson Farms isn't hard to find if you know where you're going. Dodge the speeding traffic hurtling east on Route 40, and take a right at the White Marsh Double T Diner. From there, follow Ebenezer Road through a mix of woods and modest homes and over the Bird River. The farm, a patchwork of fields, barns, low-slung buildings, and a retail store, sits on the north side of the road, and if you look carefully through the trees across the street, you'll see the silhouette of new homes under construction.

The Richardsons have worked this farm for five generations and have the proud honor of being the largest producer of greens in the state of Maryland—no small accomplishment for a family-owned farm in a heavily developed suburban county. "We don't know exactly when the farm started," explains Les, "but we have been at the Northeast Market on historic East Monument Street since 1930, and we were at the Canton market before that." Les' father, Bill, purchased the farm in 1984 from his mother, Doris. Bill was born in what is now his daughter Diane's home—a roomy, renovated farmhouse that is adjacent to the retail store. Les' mother, Barbara, was born just a stone's throw away in a house that is now part of the farm property. And five of the Richardsons' six children, along with their parents, run the White Marsh farm and the store (and the two other family-owned farm properties), as well as the business at the Northeast Market.

Running a family farm business in this contemporary economy isn't easy, and part of the success, Les explains with a chuckle, is that "we all know what we don't do." Barbara tends the White Marsh store, often with the help of her niece, Mandy. Bill and Diane run the Northeast Market stall. Twin brothers John and Donald run the White Marsh and Glen Arm farms, respectively, and Les' twin brother, Wes, manages greenhouse operations. Les plainly states, "I'm not a farmer —that's what my other three brothers do." What Les handles is "anything that involves paper." He's also the general contractor for the new buildings that are part of the White Marsh farm.

Les is quick to point out, however, that it is the combination of having an urban and suburban market base, among other factors, that has contributed to the success of the Richardson farms. The farm store at White Marsh is the yin to the stall at the Northeast Market's yang. In White Marsh, women in sweatshirts and Easy Spirit tennis shoes exchange pleasantries with matriarch Barbara, coo over photographs of Les' newborn daughter, and select fryers and roasters or maybe even a saddle of rabbit from the tidy glass meat case. A frozen food case holds sirloin steaks and hamburger patties from Roseda Black Angus Beef in Monkton and ice cream from Keyes Creamery in Havre de Grace. During the summer, folks drive from as far as Montgomery County for chicken manure for their gardens, canning tomatoes, Silver Queen corn, and bedding plants.

Downtown, greetings of "Hi, Miss Diane!" ring out against the shiny, white-tiled walls of the Northeast Market where Diane and a small, friendly staff wait on ladies in fur coats and Sunday hats (although it is a Tuesday afternoon) buying produce. The thwack of a cleaver dividing turkey necks provides the back beat for the orders given at the far end of the stand where a man in an oversized black parka orders three bags of chicken wings because his sister is going to do some cooking this weekend. Where White Marsh shoppers prefer the soft tomatoes needed for canning, downtown shoppers tend to buy the number-two grade, which are harder and smaller. And Northeast Market shoppers buy more turkey year-round. (The farm does not produce its own turkeys, but buys only turkey that passes their rigid inspection.)

Both markets, but particularly the one downtown, are meccas for customers who buy the farm's greens—the dark leafy trio of collards, spinach, and kale that provide a tangy and bitter foil to the savory taste of bacon or a little fatback. Customers downtown stand in the "greens line," which during the holidays can stretch twenty feet long. "We fight to keep it in the door," Les says.

Greens are just part of the savvy planning that has allowed Richardson Farms to grow. Fifty percent of their greens crop is sold to wholesale distributors at the Jessup Market and in New York, Pennsylvania, and North Carolina, and during the high season, roughly from Easter to Christmas, the farm hand-packs nearly one thousand crates of greens a day. Though the hand-harvesting of greens makes them a labor-intensive product, the labor is worthwhile because they can be grown and sold all year, Les explains.

Chicken production works in much the same way. Realizing that selling eggs was not financially viable, the family decided instead to raise, process, and sell chickens on site, which allows their retail store to remain open throughout the year. The family has built two new chicken houses with several more to be completed, and the farm boasts a USDA-approved processing house where informal family business meetings take place while the Richardsons process chickens. "It's the one time we're all together," John jokes.

In order to farm, however, a farmer must have land, and the Richardsons have taken steps to ensure that Baltimore County farm land remains farm land. In addition to the 35-acre farm in White Marsh, the family also owns a 175-year-old farm in Glen Arm. They sold the development rights to that property to Baltimore County in 1999. Not only does this preserve the property as farm land, but the compensation the Richardsons received from the deal allowed them to buy another farm property, a former pig farm, on Ebenezer Road, not far from the White Marsh property. The family also rents farm land in Bowleys Quarters.

Les keeps a file of the five or six unsolicited requests to buy the farm he receives each year—not that the family is thinking of selling. "Nobody could afford the land here to farm it," Les explains, and the family is not thinking of giving up the land for other purposes.

In all three of these locations, the Richardsons coexist easily with their suburban neighbors, occasionally even benefiting from the development in the area. Diane notes that her home on the White Marsh farm was able to switch from septic to sewage with the building of houses across the street from the farm. However, Les admits that the traffic increase on Ebenezer Road has forced the family to buy two sets of equipment, one for each of the farms; tractors traveling  between properties would clog up an already busy thoroughfare. Yet, he is philosophical about the suburban growth in White Marsh, "A lot of farmers complain about development," he muses. "It doesn't offend me to see people moving in across the street. I call the new people that move in ‘customers.'"