In Snowflake, Ariz., between the White Mountains and the Petrified Forest, 16 hectares of tomatoes grow under massive greenhouses -- the dream and downfall of one of Ontario's largest lottery winners. Parkhill mechanic Bernie Nauss won $22.5 million in 1998. But it only took him and his wife, Krista, a few years to lose one-third of their fortune trying to grow hydroponic tomatoes.

The town of Snowflake, 310 kilometers northeast of Phoenix, wasn't named for its climate: In the dead of winter daytime highs approach double digits. The place was named for two Mormons, an apostle named Erastus Snow and a land agent named William Flake, who in 1878 was sent by Brigham Young of the Church of Latter-Day Saints to colonize Arizona.

Young's ambitions took hold in Snowflake, where in 2001, the church built a temple big enough to hold 35,000 worshipers. At its pinnacle, covered in 24-karat gold leaf, is a three-meter statue of the angel Moroni, who according to Mormon faith descended from heaven 14 centuries after her death to show church founder Joseph Smith the location of golden plates whose text became the Book of Mormon.

The church and its statue tower over the municipal golf course, a neighborhood known as the Snowflake Country Club, where a 1,768 square-foot house still owned by Nauss stands vacant.

But the mechanic's journey to Arizona was guided by an inspiration of another sort -- a vision that wasn't as far-fetched as it might seem.

Researchers at the University of Arizona had concluded Snowflake had an optimal mix of sunshine and groundwater, assets that would later attract the world's largest operator of year-round greenhouses. Officials in Snowflake had recruiting companies to build there.

Nauss and his wife formed a company called Suntastic, hiring a partner with expertise: Exeter farmer Burkhard Metzger, who successfully grows hydroponic tomatoes in Ontario.

Nauss lent enough money to Suntastic to leverage bank loans and lease equipment -- court documents suggest he and his wife put more than $7 million into the project.

The plan was simple, said Joe Papa, who as Snowflake's city manager at the time had recruited them there: Sell greenhouse tomatoes during the winter months, when field tomatoes were latent and prices high.

The first tomatoes were to be ready by January 1999. But the startup was delayed when equipment from Europe was late. The delay turned a promising plan into a disaster.

"In a nutshell, they had bad luck. If they had gotten the building up two months earlier, things might have been different," Papa said.

By the time the greenhouse begin producing tomatoes, it was spring. And by then, prices had begun to drop as field tomatoes from warm climates became available.

Suntastic began losing money. A lot of money. Utility bills and taxes weren't paid.

Nauss and his wife were unwilling or unable to spend more money. Their reluctance, court records show, was driven in part by exchange rates, which would require them to spend more than $1.50 Canadian for every $1 US.

Nauss fired Metzger, then went with Krista to Snowflake to manage the facility themselves, buying the year-old, $116,000 house on the golf course.

The Nausses were genuinely nice but out of their element dealing with regulators, who expected a certain professionalism, and a diverse workforce that included native and Hispanic Americans, Papa said.

Bernie Nauss, who once had his dogs chase news reporters off his Parkhill property, had trouble containing his temper.

"I got along with him, but it was a hard fit for him socially. He was real rough around the edges," Papa said.

Suntastic was soon under the scrutiny of labor, health, environmental and agricultural regulators.

Bankruptcy records show Suntastic had been defending itself against claims for unemployment pay, workers' compensation and employment discrimination.

The facility looked like an plant in trouble. There was no paved parking. Equipment was left all over the place. Neighbors complained their barbecues were being invaded by swarms of flies.