Take me out to the fair. Lead me past the carnival lights and the scent of cotton candy to the cattle barn. In this place, some of my fondest childhood memories were born. Every August for as long as I can recall, the Indiana State Fair was the place to be. My mother’s family raised dairy cows on their farm. Annually they showed them at the county then the state fair. It was a tradition enjoyed by many families, not just my own, that continues on today.
Each farm proudly displays banners and ribbons in their designated spots in the cattle barn. It’s somewhat like a small temporary village during the fair. Often times our neighbors were people we only saw once a year during show time. We set up cots in the aisles between the rows of stalls and slept with the cows for the week. I was so excited when I finally became old enough to stay overnight with my Aunt Nancy. How odd to wake up to the sound of a cow chewing hay over my head while I lay on my cot!
Of course, with this privilege came responsibility. Even kids were expected to help out with feeding and watering the animals. We brushed them and worked to keep them clean. The worst part was scooping their manure with the pitch fork then putting down clean straw. It’s amazing how much one cow can poop. Multiply this by at least a dozen cattle and you get the picture. It was a big job.
By the time I was old enough to actually help show the cattle at the fair, my Grandpa Dale had passed away. Carrying on the dairy business didn’t interest my parents’ generation. Eventually my Uncle Richard converted the barn and milking parlor into a bed and breakfast. Although the farm remained, the farmers were gone. Instead we became inn keepers, teachers, pilots and even a doctor.
Over the last 50 years, the number of small dairy farms has diminished. Large commercial operations have replaced most of them. However, a few remain. I met a dairy farmer volunteering in the Dairy Bar yesterday. As he served me ice cream, we reminisced about the days gone by. “It’s a good life,” he added as I walked away.
Yes, farming is a good life. But it also can be hard. Most of us have no idea what it means to depend on nature for our livelihood. Farmers care deeply for the land and their animals. They strive to be good stewards of both. If you go out to the fair this year, make a point to speak to a few of the farmers you meet there. It might be your only opportunity. Thank them for their service. In many ways, our very survival depends on their faithfulness to the work and their rural lifestyle.
