25 Miles North of Filene's

It's hard to imagine throngs of holiday shoppers buying out an establishment along a narrow rural road with cow-and horse crossing sings but no speed limit markers. But in the sleepy outskirts of Haverhill, Mass., just 25 miles north of Filene's. Pam and Bruce Hansen usually find themselves turning customers away from their cut-it-yourself tree farm just before Christmas.

Hansen's Tree Farm never advertises like most Massachusetts tree stores if merely receives tree mention in a state Department of Food and Agriculture newsletter.

Nevertheless the Hansens receive a steady flow of regular customers between Thanksgiving and Christmas. It this year's crop is typical. Pam and Bruce will close shop sometime between their 200th and 250th sale.

The restraint the couple exercises in selling their Scotch pine at only $18 per tree, like the no-advertising policy, stems from their philosophy that, as Mrs. Hansen says, the tree farm "just makes Christmas extra special."

Each spring, the Hansens plant thousands of new seedlings in the spots of the newly cut pines, which generally take eight to 10 years to grow to maturity. In addition to more planting in the early summer and fall, the Hansens survey their six acres every two to three days, checking for sickness as well as trees in need of pruning.

By the first weekend in December, the Hansens are prepared for what has become a routine during the last six years. One family member stays inside, manning the craft shop and wood stove for people to warm themselves, while others supervise the parking and tree-cutting, providing families with saws and cord.

A year-long enterprise with a three-week selling season would seem to lend itself to fearsome competition. But area growers claim that there are always plenty of customers to go around, although Pam Hansen points to the property of a neighbor, saying. "The man across the street this spring planted 25,000 seedlings. That's our competition in years to come."

Other tree growers note a spirit of healthy camaraderie among the purveyors of pines Pat Rischer, who sells trees from a lot on Raymond's Turkey Farm in Methuen says that other tree sellers refer customers to her when their supplies are exhausted. Rischer and her husband Jim operate their tree business out of the Raymonds' store, where customers can select from a wide variety of freshly killed turkey products. The Rischers started selling trees six years ago. "It's an enjoyable thing," she says. "You know, you get your saw and cut your tree down I know our family enjoys it."

Rischer, who sells about 100 trees a year from her lot, lauds the quality of fresh-cut trees. "When you cut them yourself, right around Christmas, they won't lose their needles," she says She points out that most trees sold in the Boston area are cut as early as mid-October and imported from New Hampshire Maine and Canada.

Despite the sense of holiday cheer that pervades these family operations, one malady annually casts its shadow, like a tall Scotch pine. In recent years, an increasing number of tree thefts have plagued growers.

Tree farmers recount stories of late night trespassers--some armed with rifles--looting the fields and making away with as' many as nine trees. The Hansens have taken matters into their own hands and equipped their fields with remote microphones which feed into a speaker they keep on in their house. "We can hear footsteps. We can hear the saw," Mrs. Hansen says. "The speaker is pretty sensitive."

When the system works and they catch the thieves, the Hansens give poachers a couple of options, in the spirit of the season: "We can either take them to court, or they can pay the price of the tree," says Mrs. Hansen. "The price goes up to $50 a tree after dark," she adds with a smile.

Though they have similar problems with tree theft, other growers don't take much action against those whose Christmas tree search is something short of a pleasant family outing. But they say they hope the thieves' holidays are somewhat less than merry.

"I just hope their tree falls down on Christmas Da or something," says Pat Rischer.