Growing up in rural Minnesota, Travis Dahlke cherished the time he spent alone with his grandfather as the curious boy and the quiet man worked side by side every spring planting potatoes and peas.

"He didn't talk a lot, but when he spoke everybody listened up," Dahlke recalled of Grandpa Erwin, now gone. "He taught us to live out our faith."

Dahlke learned the lesson well.

On Saturday, Dahlke, 30, oversaw about 40 volunteers as they moved methodically across an acre of upturned earth to gather potatoes -- lots and lots of potatoes -- that are headed to three area food shelves.

The idea sprouted, if you will, last spring when Dahlke graduated from Bethel Seminary in St. Paul with a master's degree in theological studies. Longing to bring theory to practice, he had to look no farther than his own back yard. While he lives in Crystal and works in information technology, Dahlke returns to the family's 175-acre farm in Green Isle, about an hour southwest of Minneapolis, every weekend to help his father, who still raises cattle part-time.

Joined by his brother, Nathan, 28, the two asked their parents, Ronald and Betty, for one acre of farmland to grow potatoes -- so they could give the entire harvest away.

Last spring, with the help of about 80 volunteers, many from their Calvary Lutheran Church in Golden Valley, they planted 1,800 pounds of seed potatoes.

Saturday, Betty greeted volunteers with a big smile and flowing coffee. Ronald gathered potatoes under a hot September sun, as did the Dahlke's daughter, Melissa Maltman, 34, and many others.

"It's wonderful to see the process," said Dawn Dresser, Calvary Church's director of outreach, as she hauled a pail of potatoes to a truck. "And to see Travis' idea come to fruition."

When their work was done, the volunteers were rewarded with fresh apple crisp and pumpkin bread. By the end of next week, the nonprofit venture, "Hands for Harvest," expects to donate more than 10,000 pounds of potatoes to the McLeod County Food Shelf in Glencoe, the Greater Lake Country Food Bank of Minneapolis, and Prism of Golden Valley.

Prism Executive Director Liz Johnson drove out to Green Isle to witness for herself the project's fruition. "Awesome," she said. "That's a lot of potatoes."

Johnson can use them. More than 400 families come through her food shelf monthly, she said, compared to 300 last year and 250 two years ago. Among those 400 are about 135 families who have never used a food shelf. The potatoes will be stored and protected in $80,000 worth of donated coolers.

The Dahlke kids grew up with their grandparents and parents, learning early in life what 4:30 a.m. looks like as they rose to milk cows or chase hogs from pen to pen. At age 4, Travis recalls his grandfather opening holes in the earth with a drainage spade, into which the little boy happily placed potato chunks.

"Grandpa would then step it down with his large work boot and kick some ground over it with the other, firmly packing the soil around it." Today, Travis' 4-year-old niece, Tess, continues the tradition with her own Grandpa Ronald.

There were peas, too. Grandpa Erwin showed Travis and Nathan how to open the pods and eat them fresh when ready for harvest. "Our eyes lit up because we had no idea a vegetable could taste so sweet, like candy," Travis said. After that, the boys were often spotted sneaking to the garden to pick fresh peas, "similar to the way other kids might sneak over to the cookie jar."

After graduating from Sibley East High School, Travis earned a computer science degree from Gustavus Adolphus College in St. Peter, then worked for five years before attending Bethel.

Nathan, who works in IT for Target Corp. and also lives in Crystal, has similar childhood memories. "The days are really long, but they are spent working with your family," said Nathan. "On the farm, you are a little more self-sufficient."

For those who can't be self-sufficient in these tough times, there is Hands for Harvest (www.handsforharvest mn.org). Travis hopes the nonprofit group will expand, both in terms of its volunteers, the type of crops grown and size of the farm.

"Farming is something we loved to do but we can't make a full-time living at it anymore," Travis said. "With this nonprofit, we can teach the possibility of this lifestyle choice and help people, too."

Gail Rosenblum • 612-673-7350 • gail.rosenblum@startribune.com