John Burkel could feel something was wrong as soon as he entered his turkey barn on a recent morning. The usual din of gobbling and feather rustling was muted. The birds seemed depressed, their eyes a bit watery. "They just didn't look the same," he said.

Several hours later, his turkeys started dying. He knew the lethal bird flu spreading through Minnesota had reached his farm. Burkel's three barns now hold about 26,000 decomposing turkeys, felled by the flu itself or killed as a precaution against the spread of the virus.

"I have never in my life seen turkeys die like this, and I have had a life full of turkeys," said the 48-year-old Burkel, a third-generation turkey grower in the far northern Minnesota town of Badger. "It's just kind of a shell shock. You realize they are sick, and three days later they are dying and you can't do anything about it. It's a helpless feeling."

The H5N2 bird flu has infiltrated 47 commercial turkey farms in Minnesota, including two more reported Friday. Over 2.5 million birds are dead — about 5 percent of Minnesota's annual production — and turkey growers are absorbing financial blows.

The cost of lost birds alone is already in the tens of millions of dollars, though the federal government is picking up part of the cost. And growers hit by the flu can be effectively out of business for months.

Growers and state animal health regulators have had plans in place for years to deal with an avian flu outbreak. They thought they knew something about what to expect. But the H5N2 flu, which is believed to be carried by waterfowl that don't get sick, has become a mystery.

At first, scientists thought the virus was being tracked onto farms by something — people, vehicles, rodents, etc. — that had come in contact with waterfowl feces. But as the flu mushroomed, scientists also began looking at whether it could be spreading from barn to barn or even through the air, perhaps latched to dust particles.

Now, animal health scientists and turkey growers are simply overwhelmed by the size of the outbreak.

"Everybody is in crisis now, trying to put the fires out," Burkel said. "We can't even learn anything right now because we are trying to catch up with it."

Gov. Mark Dayton on Thursday declared a state of emergency regarding bird flu. No person has gotten sick from the H5N2 flu, and it is seen as a low risk to human health.

The highly pathogenic flu has struck birds in 16 states, but none harder — as measured by the number of cases — than Minnesota, the nation's largest turkey producer. The flu first hit a Pope County farm in early March, but the virus didn't really get rolling until the end of that month.

The outbreaks are most heavily concentrated in central Minnesota, particularly in major turkey-producing counties like Kandiyohi and Stearns. But the flu has traversed the state, from Nobles County on the Iowa border to Roseau County, just south of the Canadian border, where Burkel grew up on a turkey farm.

As a kid, he hauled feed, pitched manure and did other chores, setting his sights on running the operation some day. For the past 25 years, he's been a full-time turkey farmer, a member of the Northern Pride turkey co-op in Thief River Falls. Burkel's specialty is the Thanksgiving market, and he has a turkey day claim to fame: In 2013, his farm supplied two birds to the White House for the annual presidential turkey "pardoning."

Like turkey growers throughout the state, Burkel watched apprehensively as the bird flu spread, beefing up biosecurity on his farm. Nothing went on the property — no equipment or vehicles — that didn't need to be there, and barn access was severely restricted. But on the morning of April 13, Burkel saw the first signs.

As birds started dying, Burkel broke out an avian flu test kit and swabbed the throats of several turkeys. The results were positive, so he immediately called a friend at the Minnesota Animal Health Board in St. Paul. "I said, 'Dale, I think it's my turn. I think I've got it.' "

Burkel had to move quickly to limit his financial losses. Samples were sent to state and federal labs, respectively in St. Paul and Ames, Iowa, which confirmed that his farm had been hit by H5N2. Four hours later, a representative from the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) was at Burkel's door.

The USDA rep was there to document how many birds died before Burkel got the official flu confirmation. Farmers must pick up the tab for those birds, and avian disease insurance is almost nonexistent. The USDA pays farmers an indemnity for birds that die after flu confirmation, and most of those fatalities are due to euthanization.

Burkel lost a few hundred birds to the flu before flu was confirmed. About 7,000 more birds in one barn died thereafter from the flu, while the other 19,000 were killed, smothered with a suffocating foam applied by USDA contractors.

Still, Burkel said he felt lucky compared to some other farmers. "I caught it early."

He said he'll lose less than $10,000 on direct bird flu deaths. He knows a grower who lost a barn full of mature turkeys before the USDA indemnity kicked in, taking a hit of about $250,000.

The Minnesota Turkey Growers Association, which represents about 450 growers, estimates that bird losses absorbed by farmers so far tally about $20 million. The USDA didn't release a figure for just Minnesota, but says its has had $60 million in bird flu indemnity claims nationwide so far.

The agency has a total pot of $84 million to cover claims, and that probably isn't going to be enough, said Steve Olson, executive director of the Minnesota Turkey Growers Association. If more money isn't forthcoming, "we will see some serious repercussions for turkey farmers and the state of Minnesota."

Nobody has calculated the economic damage from idle barns, a big cost. Burkel's three barns are full of turkeys in a big compost pile of sunflower hulls and manure. In a 28-day cycle, the pile heats up to 160 degrees, is turned, and then heats up to about 160 degrees again, killing the virus. Burkel plans to sell the compost to local farmers, a common disposal method.

Once the barns are emptied, they must be cleaned and disinfected, a job that takes a week or so. Then, they must sit for another 21 days before the USDA allows them to again be filled with birds.

Normally, Burkel raises about six flocks of turkeys between January and November, after which he shuts down for a couple of months. This year, he'll be lucky to raise two flocks.

"I'm hoping to have new birds by July," he said.

Mike Hughlett • 612-673-7003