Veterans who arrive at Langetree Duck Farm in Raywood may be homeless, struggling with the effects of military service or simply in need of a safe place to figure out what comes next. What they probably will not find are many ducks.
Despite the name, Langetree Duck Farm is not in the business of raising ducks. For more than a decade, Barbara Lange and a growing network of volunteers, schools and partner organizations have been doing something far more important on nearly 100 acres of Lange-owned family land — helping veterans find stability, purpose and, for a time, a place to call home.
Since the first tiny house arrived in 2015, Langetree’s veterans program has grown into a community of 35 tiny homes, along with additional bunk space and support services designed to help residents move toward the next stage of their lives.
Lange estimates roughly 75 veterans have moved through the program since it began. Some have found jobs and moved into homes of their own. Others, particularly older veterans or those living with disabilities, have transitioned into assisted or independent living facilities.
The program continues to grow. Five more tiny homes are expected to be built this year by students in Humble ISD, continuing a partnership that gives students hands-on experience in the building trades while providing veterans with something much more tangible at the end of the school year — a home.
And about those ducks?
DUCK is actually an acronym for “Discovering, Understanding, Creativity and Knowledge,” part of a much broader philosophy Lange and her late husband developed for the property. There are a few real ducks, of course, but Lange said they are mostly migratory visitors passing through on their way between Canada and Mexico.
The story of how this unusual place came to be — tiny houses, veterans, gardens, ponds, a retreat center and even a two-mile labyrinth — begins with Lange and a piece of Raywood land that has been in her family since 1893.
The property was acquired by her grandparents, Mayo and Rosa Gradney, and eventually passed to her father, Wilson James Gradney, the only son among nine children.
Lange left the area, graduated from high school in Barrett Station and attended Xavier University in New Orleans. She continued her education at several universities and spent roughly 40 years as a social worker, including years working with programs connected to United Way of the Texas Gulf Coast.
She jokingly describes herself as a retired “ditch-jumping social worker,” but retirement was never going to mean sitting still.
She and her late husband, Charles J. Lange, a pharmacist who once headed the pharmacy at Methodist Hospital in the Texas Medical Center, spent years planning what they would do in retirement. At one point, the couple considered going to Africa to teach English as a second language.
The Langes decided that was not quite enough action for them.
Instead, they turned their attention toward the family property in Raywood. Lange’s brother helped complete the original retreat building in 2004, and Langetree began developing programs centered around what Lange calls a “womb to the tomb” philosophy — teaching people throughout their lives to care for themselves, one another and the environment. Lange emphasized that her “womb to the tomb” philosophy is not about creating dependency, but helping people build the resilience and skills they need to move forward — a hand up, not a handout.
Both her husband and brother have since died, leaving Lange to carry on much of the work they started together.
“Now I’m mad at both of them, because all the work they put into the process that we built together, they died,” she said with a laugh.
Langetree’s work with veterans grew, in part, from something Lange already knew well: disaster recovery.
The organization had experience providing accommodations and services to people displaced by storms and other disasters. That work helped Langetree develop a model for temporary housing and connecting people with services they needed to regain stability. Eventually, that experience was turned toward veterans.
The opportunity to provide actual homes came through Humble ISD and a hands-on building trades program designed to give high school students practical experience in construction. Students weren’t just studying architectural design, plumbing and electrical work in a classroom. They were building actual tiny houses.
Once the district had a house, however, it needed somewhere for it to go and someone willing to take the project to the next level. Langetree had land and Lange had experience working with people in crisis.
“We raised our hands up and we said, ‘Let’s try it,'” she recalled.
The first veteran to live in one of the tiny houses was David Anderson. More houses followed.
Today, the houses come equipped with the necessities of daily life, including a bed, bathroom, kitchen fixtures, dishes, pots and pans and a small dining area. Future designs are being adjusted to provide greater separation between the bedroom and living space, giving residents a little more privacy.
But Lange is quick to point out that Langetree is not simply handing someone a house and asking nothing in return.
“This is a program,” she said.
Veterans enter into a contract with Langetree rather than a traditional lease. Those who are able contribute toward a portion of their utilities and are expected to participate in the program, including about 15 hours of volunteer work each week.
On a property this size, Lange has no trouble finding things for them to do. There is grass to cut, gardens to tend, landscaping to maintain and countless other jobs. The work is part of Langetree’s emphasis on helping residents develop routine, responsibility and a sense that they are contributing to the place where they live.
“We’re breaking the cycle of any kind of thing related to dependency,” Lange said.
That doesn’t mean every veteran who comes to Langetree is capable of returning to the workforce.
Some are older Vietnam-era veterans. Others have physical disabilities, mental health needs or other limitations that may make full independence unrealistic. Lange said Langetree has worked with Adult Protective Services and other organizations to help determine what kind of living arrangement is appropriate for an individual.
Some residents may eventually need assisted living. Others are able to find employment, secure affordable housing and live entirely on their own.
Langetree also works with Operation Finally Home, a nonprofit organization that provides mortgage-free homes to veterans and their families. Lange said veterans who reach the point where they can handle the taxes, utilities, maintenance and other responsibilities of homeownership may potentially transition into one of those homes.
For younger veterans who are able to work, the goal may be entirely different.
Some residents have jobs while living at Langetree and are preparing to move into housing of their own. A typical stay is around two years, Lange said, although that varies according to the needs of the individual.
For veterans dealing with addiction, mental illness or trauma, Langetree does not attempt to provide services it is not licensed to offer. Instead, it relies on an extensive network of partners.
Lange said Langetree works with VA services in Houston and Beaumont and with other agencies that provide mental health treatment, addiction services, job readiness assistance and other specialized care. Transportation can be arranged for veterans to reach some of those services.
Military trauma also isn’t always the beginning of someone’s struggles, Lange said. For some veterans, experiences before entering the military can be compounded by what happens during their service.
“You have to have people that take a look at not only what was happening while you were in Vietnam, but what happened to you before you got there,” she said.
One of Langetree’s biggest challenges is simply getting people where they need to go. Many residents don’t have vehicles, and public transportation options are limited in rural Liberty County. A large passenger van is high on Lange’s wish list so groups of veterans can be transported to appointments, services and activities.
The need for veteran housing, she believes, remains enormous.
Homelessness is complicated, Lange said, and rarely has a single cause. Mental illness, addiction, unemployment, loneliness and a lack of affordable housing can overlap until someone who once had a stable life finds himself or herself without one.
“There are so many hungry people. There are so many lonely people. There are so many unemployed people,” she said.
Langetree regularly hears from people who aren’t veterans but need somewhere to go. Lange recalled speaking that very morning with a woman who had repeatedly called because she was homeless. Lange had to ask the question she sometimes hates asking: Are you a veteran? The woman wasn’t. Langetree cannot help everyone.
“We can’t serve the world,” Lange said. “So we choose veterans.”
Still, the organization finds ways to help people outside its primary mission when it can.
Langetree participates in a Tuesday food distribution effort. Food collected from H-E-B and other sources is shared with veterans and then made available to people in the surrounding community. Lange said more than 100 people may depend on that food on a rotating basis. Sometimes there isn’t much to give.
“They may come and get nothing but a head of lettuce and a package of corn,” she said. “We give what we have.”
The property itself has been intentionally developed to feel like a home rather than an institution.
“We want our veterans to feel like they’re not going to a slum or underneath a bridge,” Lange said. “It’s a home.”
Visitors turning onto CR 190 find palms, yuccas, blackberry plants and fruit trees. Farther down the drive are the retreat center, bunkhouse, ponds and clusters of tiny houses.
A recently completed community center, built with help from Operation Finally Home, has added another dimension to life at Langetree. The building gives veterans a place to socialize, study, watch television, use Wi-Fi or have virtual visits with doctors. Eight washers and dryers are located at the center and are available to residents around the clock on a schedule.
Langetree also has a bathhouse. Even when there is not room to house someone who comes onto the property looking for help, Lange said staff may still be able to offer a supervised shower and a meal.
Maintaining safety is an important part of operating the program. Langetree has rules, and Lange makes no apologies for enforcing them.
The organization also has relationships with local law enforcement agencies, whose officers are familiar with the property and some of its residents. That is particularly important when dealing with elderly or cognitively impaired veterans who may become confused and wander.
Beyond the veterans housing, Langetree is a retreat and eco center with gardens, educational programs, stocked fishing ponds, trails and one particularly unusual feature — a labyrinth that Lange says is the longest in Texas. It is not a maze. The path winds toward the center, turning repeatedly but eventually taking the walker to the middle. Then the person follows the path back out.
The complete walk is about two miles.
Schools, senior groups and others visit the labyrinth to walk, pray, sing or simply spend time thinking. Lange said one school principal sometimes comes when she is overwhelmed, waves hello and heads for the labyrinth.
Lange walks it herself about four times a week.
That would be noteworthy for almost anyone. Lange is in her 80s.
“Age is only a number,” she said.
The labyrinth was laid out using bricks salvaged from a former school in the Liberty area, and keeping its pathways visible presents one of the more mundane realities of maintaining a retreat center in Southeast Texas. Grass grows through everything. Lange and her volunteers have tried sawdust and other methods to control it, only to discover that nature generally has other plans.
The same Southeast Texas environment creates much bigger maintenance problems for the tiny houses. Langetree’s property includes substantial wetlands, and the ground shifts and settles. Soil has to be brought in, houses have to be leveled and plumbing and other components eventually need repair.
The oldest tiny homes have also reached the age when ordinary wear and tear becomes a significant issue.
“Just put yourself in your own personal home,” Lange said. “After 20 years, it starts falling apart.”
As the number of houses grows, so does the need for maintenance, infrastructure, staffing and volunteers. Lange says almost anyone can help.
“We need just about everything that you have at your house,” she said.
People who cannot write a large check can donate their time. Gardeners can share excess vegetables or plants. Quilters can make blankets for the beds. Someone can buy a weed eater, blower or gas can. Churches, civic groups and school organizations can take on projects. Volunteers can paint, work in flower beds, help with arts and crafts or simply pick up debris.
“Just tell us you want to volunteer,” Lange said. “We got a job.”
Students have become some of Langetree’s most visible volunteers.
The Humble ISD partnership has expanded beyond the original campus, with students from Kingwood Park, Kingwood, Humble and Atascocita high schools participating. In addition to building houses, students come to Langetree for work days and take on projects such as raised garden beds and fire pits.
Lange believes there is value in allowing young people to see that something they built with their own hands can make a real difference in another person’s life.
The partnership is expected to produce five more tiny houses this year, the largest single-year addition Langetree has seen. Home Depot, Lowe’s and Operation Finally Home are among the organizations helping provide materials and other support for the houses.
Langetree also is developing new programs intended to bring veterans and the surrounding community together.
Local resident Valencia Arceneaux is helping lead an effort involving art, drama, music and a community market. Lange envisions monthly gatherings where people can listen to gospel, blues, Cajun or zydeco music while local vendors sell their goods. Veterans are also beginning to explore making products of their own, which Lange hopes can eventually become another way of teaching practical skills and entrepreneurship.
There is plenty of room for Langetree to continue growing. Lange estimates the property could ultimately accommodate about 100 tiny houses, although expanding the housing also means expanding the infrastructure and staff needed to support it.
At some point, someone will also have to carry on without Barbara Lange. Her daughter, Angela Lange, is learning the operation, while her son, Eric Lange, lives on the property and helps while also working elsewhere. Both, Lange said, understand the mission and the responsibility that comes with it.
For Lange, serving others has been part of her life for so long that she has difficulty imagining herself doing anything else. She began volunteering at 13 after her mother volunteered her to teach Catholic catechism classes. Decades of social work followed, then disaster recovery, retreats, educational programs and eventually a tiny-house community filled with veterans.
Asked how Langetree has changed her after all these years, Lange couldn’t really say.
Her younger sister, she recalled, once told her she couldn’t remember a time when Lange wasn’t talking about being a social worker.
“I’ve had a heck of a great life,” Lange said. “God’s been good.”
To hear the full podcast episode featuring Barbara Lange, click the link below: