Red Ferns, Green Beans, and Barnyard Dreams

Farm on property first owned by Isaac Cummings

Crisp, trifold papers encased in heavier red and green covers are spilling out of a folder, and onto the table. Did you know about the coins? 

“It was good luck, customary, to hide a coin in the house for good luck,” says Rick Brain, owner of the barn at the top of what is now called Smith Road, in Forestville. 

According to Rick, he was helping his grandfather put a new roof on his grandparent’s home. He spotted a flash of silver, and asked his “gramps” to hand it to him. His grandfather, Henry R. Egbert, assumed it was a washer and was agitated at Rick’s persistence, but eventually handed over the coin. 

“I said hey, this is a silver dollar!” Rick recalls. “And from that point on, we argued over who had found that coin. So grandma took it and said she was going to keep it for us. At that time, it was probably worth $40-$50.” 

The coin was dated 1856. Time stole the memory of Rick’s grandmother, Dale Egbert, and the coin was lost. The date, however, lives in Rick’s memory: 1856. 

Back to those sharply folded papers — typewritten deeds — and lots of them! Name after name is read as each ancient page is unfolded. Ultimately, Rick and his wife, Lisa Cislo, arrive at the first owner of the property: Isaac Cummings. Cummings purchased the land from the Holland Land Company in 1836.

Though the coin may be the only clue as to when the structures were added to the property, the details and stories grow richer as the discussion moves to present-day. 

Fernside

The barn currently stands in a traditional shade of red. A word is printed on the North side of the structure: Fernside. Rick says the writing predates his grandfather’s purchase of the property in 1954. They have no knowledge of the meaning. As you walk through the inside of the barn, it becomes clear that red wasn’t its original color. 

At one time at least, the barn was green, and it wasn’t a dairy barn. 

Built in three stages, the barn has stalls for horses and pigs, and a chicken coop in the upstairs. There was a small silo that may have been made entirely of wood. Rick can still show how acetylene traveled underground between the house and barn and was used to illuminate them both. The remnants of a creamery were found in the basement of the home. It appears this barn was not built for any commercial intent - but simply to meet the needs of the family living there. 

“Gramps” was the first dairy farmer to ship commercially from this location. He spent countless hours on nights and weekends, revamping the barn to accommodate milking 30 Holstein cows and all the equipment he would need. At first, the equipment included milking machines that strapped on to the cow, and a cooler big enough to hold milk cans. Later, he upgraded to a bulk tank. Henry also became a milk hauler and then attained a license to be able to read milk weights. In later years, Henry worked for the town of Villenova; operating both the snow plow and dump truck.

Having lived through the depression, Henry was a thrifty farmer. He kept every rusty nail and bolt he ever had used, just in case he might need it. If something broke, he would spend endless hours searching for something he already owned that might serve to get him through. Running to town to purchase parts was not ever an option Henry chose if he could somehow avoid it.

An animal lover, Henry didn’t keep to a consistent practice of culling his herd. He stuck to his pragmatic ways by only feeding the cattle whatever was least expensive. For many years, the answer was bean snips. 

“There was a canning factory down in South Dayton,” Rick shares. “The last thing they processed were beans. They had the bean snips: the waste.” 

Since Henry had two dump trucks, one could stay at the canning factory, and a loaded one would be brought home. “We had made a bunker [to store the beans] on a cement pad, and that was how we fed them. And the cows made SO much milk off of that! And it was free! Gramps loved that!”

Nothing replaced the quality and affordability of bean snips when the canning factory was shut down. The cows grazed on hay in fields around the farm. The effects of that are still apparent today, as the ground is still rough from cow hooves plodding through the fields when they were soft from rains or a spring thaw. 

While it was running on a shoestring, the farm didn’t stay current. Generations of family that might have been interested in continuing the farm found Henry rigid in his methods. Anyone thinking they might want to continue the legacy was faced with a sizable investment to update equipment and advance to a more modern operation. 

“I definitely wanted to take over the farm,” Rick shares. When asked if he favored the cows or machinery, he replies  “Both. Because I loved it all.”

In 1986, Henry encouraged Rick to go to college “and then we’ll see.” Only Gramps never became ready to hand over the reins to anyone. As he speaks, the gravity of all he would have had to do to make his Gramp's farm a profitable business seems to settle in. 

Photos Courtesy SLP Photography

Nevertheless, the spark of Rick’s hopes and dreams is still alive. He had wanted to add more cows and had a goal of being a Dairy of Distinction. He still thinks about owning his own dairy operation, which would include a processing facility. The reality is ever-present though.

Rick knows now he could never get into dairy.

“It costs too much to milk cows and there’s no money in it,” Rick explains. “It kind of scares me, thinking about this area and how many farms there used to be. Now there is one, and he is leaving. So, I mean… there’s going to be nobody up here.” 

He and Lisa imagine other ideas for their  barn that lend themselves to agri-tourism: a pumpkin farm, corn maze, raising beef cows, maple syrup… for creative people, the options seem endless. For now, Rick is a sought after, self-employed contractor. From woodwork to electrical to plumbing, many of the skills he employs on the job as Cranium Remodeling saw their beginnings on the farm. 

“My Gramps and Annie, my aunt, they both asked me ‘how in the hell did you learn to do everything you do?” Rick shares, “it’s from watching, and I learned that from Gramps because he would always say ‘pay attention,’ you know? ‘You can learn a lot if you watch,’ and that’s what I did. I just picked things up.”

The differences between how Henry made repairs and how Rick now approaches his work become more apparent throughout the conversation. Henry, as was the common practice of his generation, Made Do. “Doing it right” has been Rick’s intent from his earliest inclinations. It’s clear that Henry’s creativity in keeping things up-and-running influenced Rick’s ability to approach his work with an open mind; create his own plans for his clients; as well as understand their ideas and be able to incorporate them into his processes. 

“Gramps was getting by.” Lisa observes. “You’re doing it to make a living.”

Rick shares that traveling gives him some peace of mind. “We go camping in North Java, and I like going the scenic route because there are so many farms up there still. It restores my faith in farming, but I know it’s still disappearing because the younger generations just don’t want to do it and it’s so darned expensive you can’t make it if you try — unless you have a couple of thousand cows to milk, you can’t make any money and then it costs so much to keep a couple of thousand cows… you’re so far in debt it’s not even funny.”

“I’d really like to see the mom and pop farms come back,” Rick concludes. 

It IS a Diary, After All.

It's been a busy weekend, and thankfully a long one! Yesterday, which is usually a day I set aside time to write and work on the blog, I had a young man in need of costume alterations for his school play. The day was spent making buttonholes on my grandmother's 1950's era sewing machine, with a buttonhole attachment which I had never figured out how to use before. Thanks so much to YouTube! It's a pretty incredible little gizmo.

So today, some blog work is happening. I'm going through the recordings of my last interview. I keep my computer handy for transcribing the important parts; but I'm usually cleaning house while I listen. I'm excited to get this one written! There are so many interesting points to explore. It's interesting to look at families where a grandparent and grandchild are working together. It's a lot like what's happening with my daughter and my dad. I quite often stay out of it on purpose. My relationship with my grandmother was one of the greatest blessings of my life. She had far more influence on me than my parents. And now, as I look for mentors and role models for my girl, I can't imagine a better guide in life than my dad.

Simple symbiosis.

Autumn and Satin

Today though, I stepped in a little and helped the girl work with her calves, Satin and Julia. Of course, that ended in teenage angst! This is why I rely on my dad so much. Julia has a clever pen my dad creates for young calves. Autumn didn't think we should take Julia out of her pen. I was determined to show her it was no big deal and NOW is the time to start working with this calf! My releasing the side of the pen that grandpa had put together was simply not OK in Autumn's world. After quite a bit of tense talk, the pen was put back together and Autumn stormed out of the barn.

NO, she isn't a brat. Autumn's world is not the same as ours. If you know her, you get it, at least to some degree. The hard part to explain is what trying to manage and balance all of that does to a parent. It's honestly hard for me to understand my own emotions and how raising her has changed me. It's an absolute given I am going to push too far at some point. I guess all parents do. I can't really explain what happens in me when things go awry with her. I have two kids, and they are entirely different beings. Things go awry with the boy too. At 14, he is a different kind of exhausting. Even at his worst, there is some level of logic and reason that can still be reached.

When Autumn shuts down, it's an entirely different story. This isn't a simple symbiosis, and it never has been. Parenting her happens at such a primal level in so many ways.

Her grandpa always seems to strike the perfect balance. He may never fully understand the peace of mind he brings me - and the value of the freedom he has given his granddaughter. He considers himself a cow man, first and foremost. His daughter considers him a hero, and always will.

How funny that what I actually logged on to write about was the relationship between cows and people.

It is a diary, after all. Might as well mental purge in a post...

I was on Facebook, which I rather think I'd like to cut right out of my life. Still, there I was. A "User." I heard a speaker once say that there are really only two times humans are referred to as "users:" when they are using technology, and when they are using drugs. Interesting, isn't it?

While on Facebook, I saw a post by a couple of young agvocates I follow. The problem I had was in the comments. The endless, bullying comments by those aiming to end agriculture. Comments full of misinformation and looking for a fight. Misinformed internet trolls who blatantly state they will not rest until the dairy industry is dead.

Those people make me so, so sad.

In a few ways, they are the reason I started this digital diary around a decade ago. They are so far removed from agriculture. They really don't understand how the industry works. Originally, I wanted to capture my experiences, having returned back to our family farm after a near 20-year hiatus. I had realized how much I enjoyed the cows. I had become fully aware of how alive I felt - going to work in jeans and workboots and moving around cows for a few hours each day. THIS was the best symbiosis! I find animals to be incredibly soothing. This was definitely a personal period of my working through so much bottled up stuff around my early stages of parenting. The cows and those hours in the barn were the best therapy I could have asked for.

Still, there was a real sense that it may not last. Even if it did, the chances my children would farm were slim. The chances their children would farm were nil. So to capture some little piece of it so they could look back at mom/grandma's memories and have a feel for what farming is. My idea was to create digital place that stood against the misinformation and horrible videos that are edited and created (and now we know, literally staged!) to capture farming in the worst possible light. I wanted to be someone tangible, believable, and accessible.

But you know, even that is a scary proposition today. I see what the trolls say and how mean they are. In their words, there is no dignity or respect for a different viewpoint. There is no willingness to listen with an open mind and absorb something they have clearly never experienced. It makes me hope my little Barn Diva page never gets so big as to attract that kind of attention.

So while it is little and pretty inconsequential, I'm going to just rant a little. What in the world do the activists think happens to the animals, if farming is ended? Do they imagine cows roaming the woods? Deer roam the woods, and they also pop out on the roads at the worst possible times. Can you imagine connecting to a cow with the hood of your car?

That is why deer are hunted - to control the population. So, would cows be hunted? And in this free-range scenario, how are the cows fed? Is grazing on grass enough for them? How do they survive in the woods in the winter? In the barn, none of this is an issue. OH - and can we imagine in our wooded scenario how the cows are dealing with mange, lice, grub infestation, hardware disease?

Or maybe there just aren't any more cows? We just let them be extinct? How is that better?

Symbiosis. Living a mutually beneficial life. Our animals enrich our lives in so many ways. Make no mistake, we give them comfort, shelter, food, health care, safe pastures and free spaces to move...

I just really don't get it. HOW did we get so removed from this way of life that we have actors on television talking about raped cows and farmers ripping cow babies away from their mothers?

The Farm Phoenix of Forestville

Farmstead owned by Raymond J. Ortel Jr.

Located on a hilltop just outside of Forestville lies a farmstead that blends past and present. In its prime, it housed purebred registered Holsteins, and then grade cattle. It was the mainstay that provided for a family of five, and laid the foundational concepts of responsibility and work ethic for the grandchildren that helped continue the legacy into the beginning of a new century.

For those who knew him, Raymond J. Ortel Jr. was a determined, decisive man. He knew it took hard work to keep a farm running, and was unafraid of driving those concepts home for anyone who worked on his farm. His grandson, Garrett Pfleuger, shares some insight into how the farm worked when he was growing up.

Extension built by the Ortel brothers. 

Though it is uncertain when the original barn was built, a young Ray and his wife bought the farm in the mid-1950's from a man with the last name Saltmeyer. Ray and Darlene raised three "Barn Divas:" Becky, Brenda, and Bonnie. As they grew, each had a hand in keeping the farm profitable. Despite their involvement, it was hard for any of them to imagine taking over the family farm.

According to Ray's daughter, Brenda Ortel Bentley, the extension shown in the photograph shown here was built by Ray, his three brothers: Terry, Dallas, and Sidney, and their father, Raymond C. Ortel Sr. "All the fine carpentry was Uncle Dal's handiwork and part of that generation was the stories handed down while they worked on projects together. Just go listen to Uncle Sid for an afternoon."

Garrett Pfleuger on his grandpa's farm.

In the early decades, the Ray-Dee Farm housed registered Holstein cattle. By the time Garrett was actively involved, the herd consisted of unregistered, or grade cattle. Though he never discussed with Garrett the reasons why he stopped registering cattle, it's possible it became an expense that could no longer be justified.

The herd was dispersed twice. In 1980, all the animals sold were registered. The next year, a scheduled increase in dairy price supports was eliminated, which affected approximately 15,000 dairy farmers in New York state alone. As the young stock matured into milking cows, the herd reformed. By the 1990's and into the next century, Garrett was also growing into an important part of the day-to-day operations. His younger brother, Wade, was working alongside their grandfather as well. Garrett had thoughts of taking over the family farm, and ultimately decided against it.

"I didn't think it would be a good move," Garrett explains. "I could see the market kind of falling behind and it seemed like everyone else was getting out."

Ray received a cancer diagnosis, and continued to milk cows as long as he could. When things became difficult, Brenda recalls "the entire community came to help."

When he was no longer able, the entire herd was dispersed. "Everyone stood in the yard (during the sale), and he sat in the yard and watched them all sell," Garrett remembers. We can only guess at what thoughts ran through his mind that day. "He never talked about that stuff, at least to me."

Brenda warmly adds, "When Raymond J. Ortel departed this earth plane, we lost an amazing farmer, provider, and storyteller. His legacy lives on and is woven into the fabric of the barn, cows, crops and very land he cultivated."

New structure built over the original Ortel foundation
Courtesy SLP Photography

Ray passed away in 2000, and the barn stood empty for a few years. It was then rented for a few years, and then sold. It remained a milking facility until a fire brought it to the ground. Though the farm was rebuilt on the original foundation; memories of the original hand-hewn, peg and beam structure are all that remain. "I used to climb around there when I was a kid," recalls the man who still holds a great appreciation for good craftsmanship.
"It's tough to see. There are so many barns — nice barns — that are still standing and people don't even use anymore."

Garrett has remained tied to the agricultural industry. As an Ag Technician for LandPro, Garrett makes good use of the work ethic he was taught on his grandfather's farm. "I learned a lot of things working on the farm with Grandpa," Garrett shares. "When I'm working on a customer's equipment, [there is an] urgency to get the equipment working again, and fixed right the first time... Time is money and when we had breakdowns we were up against both Mother Nature and time. I think about that when I'm on service calls."