Explore the uncertain future of Hartford’s last dairy farm as the herd departs. Will the city lose its agricultural heritage? Dive into this compelling story.
Explore the uncertain future of Hartford’s last dairy farm as the herd departs. Will the city lose its agricultural heritage? Dive into this compelling story.Imagine yourself in the verdant pastures of Vermont, gazing at the rolling hills of Jericho Rural Historic District. Now, picture a populous herd of dairy cows grazing peacefully. This picturesque scene is gradually fading, with yet another contributing element, the Jericho Hill Farm, preparing to cease dairy operations. Initiated in 1907, the farm is not just selling off its healthy dairy cattle but also symbolizes the reduction of a rich agrarian history. A story with deep roots, the tale of Hartford, Vermont, is marked by a crucial turn as the Miller family, spearheaded by George Miller, has recently sold their last remaining bastion of traditional dairy farming – Jericho Hill Farm. As a century-old legacy established by George’s great-grandfather in 1907, the farm has been a well-known producer of about 150 gallons of milk every day. The farm’s buyout has resulted in Windsor County now housing a mere 17 dairy operations, a dramatic fall from the 84 that enlivened the region in 1997.
Recently, George Miller, his son, cousin, and brother embarked on a reluctant journey. They shepherded 27 stubborn Jersey cows and six heifers out of the barn and onto the livestock trailers destined for their new owner in Canton, New York. This marked a significant transition for not only the Miller family but also the city of Hartford, which bid farewell to its last remaining working dairy farm.
Until recently, Jericho Hill Farm had been producing about 150 gallons of milk per day in addition to hay and maple syrup. The family had been working this land, originally purchased by George’s great-grandfather in 1907 when he arrived from Canada aboard a train with money his wife had artfully hidden in his jacket pocket.
At his peak George took care of a herd of 60 Holsteins along with the Jerseys. However, he decided to sell the Holsteins in 2015 amidst the bleak outlook on milk prices and the struggle to manage both herds, therefore scaling back to maximize efficiency and sustainability.
His wife Linda, despite retiring in 2018 after 40 years at Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center, lends a crucial hand in the running of the farm. She states in a recent interview, “I don’t know that a young couple could make it without off-farm income.” She fondly recalls an annual agricultural conference on artificial insemination that she looked forward to, mainly because it presented the only three days all year when George got a break from farm work.
“We’re going to party”, the Millers’ son, Alex, says. “Not every farmer gets to walk away a winner in this industry, like we have managed to.” Looking at the future of Jericho Hill Farm, he adds, “My kids could come up in 20 years and want to be dairy farmers.”
Following their 45th wedding anniversary, Linda is keen on planning a big trip. To which she optimistically queries, “I said, where in this world are we going, George Miller?”
You gaze upon the once thriving Hartford dairy farm, the last of its kind within the area, and you’ll find it’s an image of change. A sweeping emerald landscape emptied of its usual, bustling inhabitants, the dairy cows. Namely, Dolly – the last cow, marking an end to a chapter in Hartford’s history.
This shift isn’t just peculiar to Hartford, it mirrors a broader trend across Vermont, the Green Mountain State. The decline in the dairy industry has become a noticeable trait for places that once held these farms dear. A vivid example is the Jericho Rural Historic District, where the decline in dairy farms over the years is palpable.
So robust was the dairy industry that in 2002, Vermont was the proud host to 1,508 dairy farms. By last year, that count had tumbled drastically to less than 500, revealing a sharp decline in this way of life, affecting both the cultural and economic fabric of the Vermont’s agrarian structure.
While you may be familiar with the sight of the Millers’ dairy herd moving serenely across the landscape, completing their daily rituals, the herd is no more. The last cow, endearingly called Dolly, marched off into retirement and with her departure, marked the end of an era for Hartford’s last standing dairy farm.
It’s not the luscious pastures that will solely miss the bovine residents. The Modern Milkman Creamery, responsible for delivering fresh milk to the local community’s doorsteps, also kisses goodbye to its supply of fresh dairy milk. Contracting supply chains doesn’t just affect economic aspects, but also threatens lifestyle habits locals have indulged in for so many years.
Change, though inevitable, often becomes more challenging when it affects longstanding traditions and habits. For instance, take Spring Brook’s significant curtailment of its cheese production due to personnel woes. Vermont’s culinary experience is under threat as some local products dwindle.
Within this picture, you see the Millers who waved goodbye to their hardworking dairy herd. They’re another face of change in an industry that has served as a foundation for food production and rural livelihoods. The reason? Working a dairy farm is a hard way to live. The Millers are a testament to this, having delivered fresh dairy products to area customers through Modern Milkman Creamery, every morning, without fail.
It brings a stark reality into focus: the numbers. The number of dairy farms in Vermont has seen a drastic decline, from 1,508 in 2002 to fewer than 500 in the past year alone. These numbers reverberate in small towns and historic districts alike, reflected in situations such as the sale of Jericho Hill Farm, founded in 1907. The dairy cows, including the beloved Holsteins, are being shipped away, leaving the once bustling farm eerily quiet.
In the face of such a change, it’s imperative to consider and appreciate the resilience of Connecticut’s Oakridge Dairy, the state’s largest dairy farm. It renders vitality to the dairy business by ensuring that about 20 percent of the marketed milk is sourced from its operations. While they thrive amidst the mountainous challenges of a dwindling industry, Oakridge Dairy represents hope for dairy farming’s future.
Lastly, organizations like the Connecticut Department of Agriculture carry the important mandate of breeding a healthy environment for farming, while also sensitizing more people about the importance and richness of Connecticut’s agriculture. However, with the dwindling dairy farms in Hartford, they find themselves faced with an increasingly difficult task – how to uphold legacy in the face of change.
Considered in this light, this change impacts not only the economic fabric but also the landscape. The emptiness left behind marks an end, but also a stark reminder to adapt or get left behind. It’s an echo from even the smaller industry players such as Spring Brook, who are reducing cheese production due to staffing challenges.
The fall of Hartford’s last dairy farm is an important moment for you to reflect and recognize that being in the dairy farming industry demands resilience, tenacity, and the will to weather ever-present challenges – truly, a very hard way to make a living.
Summary: The Miller family, including George Miller, has sold their last remaining dairy farm, Jericho Hill Farm, in Hartford Vermont. The farm, which had been in the Miller family for over a century, produced about 150 gallons of milk per day and was owned by George’s great-grandfather in 1907. The sale of the herd has left Windsor County with only 17 dairy operations, a significant drop from the 84 farms it housed in 1997. The Miller family’s wife Linda, who retired in 2018, has been crucial in running the farm, providing off-farm income. The fall of Hartford’s last dairy farm is an important moment for reflecting on the resilience, tenacity, and will to weather ever-present challenges in the dairy farming industry. The number of dairy farms in Vermont has seen a drastic decline, with Oakridge Dairy, Connecticut’s largest dairy farm, providing about 20% of the state’s milk.
