In order to get the manure ready to be hauled away in trucks and then spread on fields, Biadasz was using a piece of farm equipment to move, or stir, a big outdoor manure pit. It was not a strange job; it was done a few times a year, but this time was different.
After the pit let out gas, they got stuck under warm air high in the sky on a foggy morning. It was so bad that Biadasz passed out. When other workers found him, he was lying still on the edge of the pit.
He died, and 16 cows that were standing near the pit also did.
When Biadasz died, his parents and three sisters were shocked and did not know what would happen to their family or farm without him. A lot of other people also felt the pain of a sudden loss. Last week, more than 1,200 people came to see him.
The U.S. Census Bureau says that is more people than live in the village of Amherst, which has 1,038 people. Bob Biadasz said that visiting hours had to be moved to St. Bronislava Catholic Church because a nearby funeral home would not have been able to hold that many people.
“I never realized Mike touched so many people,” he said.
Mike Biadasz and Steve Burclaw had only worked together on the farm for three years, but they quickly became good friends.
He said, “He was like a big brother to me. He was like a big brother to everyone, I should say. He basically took care of everyone.”
For some reason, Burclaw was the one who saw Mike Biadasz lying down near the manure pit. Burclaw, who was meant to help move manure that morning, did not notice anything strange right away.
“There was really no sign of anything being different, or odd, or wrong,” he said “We’ve all seen foggy mornings before.”
Burclaw said that this week was the first time since Biadasz’s death that he went back to his normal work schedule. It has not been easy, though.
“Just keep moving. Don’t stop to think about anything,” he said. “If I’m sitting around just staring off into space, I just start thinking about the situation.”
Bob Biadasz said that his son was a smart, hardworking farmer who was also open and friendly and “could talk to anybody, young or old.”
As a kid, Mike Biadasz became interested in farming and went on to study it at Mid-State Technical College in Marshfield and Fox Valley Technical College in Appleton. He graduated from Amherst High School in 2005.
“He always wanted to farm,” Bob Biadasz said. “He always wanted to stay home and be with dad.”
A few years ago, Mike Biadasz bought land close to the family farm. His father watched as his son’s love of farming changed the land. The farm that his family owns has been there since 1934. There are now between 850 and 900 horses on the farm.
“He actually had the vision to make something out of it,’ he said. “He made it what no one else dreamed it could be.”
Mike Biadasz’s family started a farm safety memory fund with collection points at Community First Bank in Rosholt and Stevens Point because of the strange ways he died. The family has also set up a GoFundMe page.
A study by the Bureau of Labor Statistics found that at least 270 farmers, ranchers, and other agricultural workers died on the job in 2014. Five of those deaths were caused by being exposed to a dangerous chemical. However, most of the deaths were caused by accidents on the roads or by touching equipment.
Cheryl Skjolaas, an agricultural safety specialist for the University of Wisconsin-Extension, said that these deadly fume situations happen more often in small areas. However, the gases are dangerous and hard to find wherever they come from.
“You’re not going to smell them. You’re not going to see them,” she said. “If you’re working around it, it’s hard to know where that gas is.”
USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin looked at comments on Mike Biadasz’s Facebook page and found that many people were sorry for him.
“I’m glad I got to work with you for the time I did,” said Andrew Falk. “It wasn’t long, but it was fun and long enough to know you were a great man.”
A lot of the comments had pictures of Mike Biadasz with his friends, and some people just said they could not believe it.
Jessica Dombrowski said, “There’s no words to express how any of us feel. I’ve never met someone like you. You gave so much love to anyone you met.”
A worn baseball cap was still on the dashboard of Mike Biadasz’s pickup, which was stopped in front of a group of farming tools that had been brought together last week as a memorial. Two signs nearby said, “Live today like you are going to die tomorrow, but farm today like you are going to farm forever.”
“I never knew how much those words could mean,” Bob Biadasz said.
