Subscribe to our RSS feed
Follow us on TwitterSTOCKPORT — The Iowa sun was still high and hot as the owners of L & L Ayrshires waved goodbye to chartered buses of convention attendees who had spent the better part of the day touring this southeastern Iowa dairy farm last month.
The time spent in fellowship and commemoration was perhaps one of far too few respites shared by cash-strapped dairy farmers. Extremely low milk prices paid by distributors have pushed many dairies to the brink of financial ruin.
Once the cows at L & L Ayrshires are milked, they are given the run of the barns and pasture. Toban, who decided to relax on a pile of straw in the barn, had little interest in being interviewed. (Iowa Independent photo)
After spending the day at L & L, however, it became clear that the stress and sadness impacting dairy farmers is about far more than commodities trading and balance sheets.
The attachments farmers feel for their land, livestock and lifestyle can cause anxiety that experts say is too often underestimated or misunderstood.
Still, there was little time to reflect on the visitors as the Lunsfords, owners and operators of the Jefferson County farm, didn’t wait for the sound of crunching gravel under the bus tires to fade before they were ready to go back to the business of running their farm and caring for their herd.
White and red Ayrshire cows, several of them lounging in pools of cool mud left behind by morning rains, had to be roused and taken to the dairy parlor holding pen. Despite a mostly failed attempt earlier in the day to encourage the cows into the shade of a barn for shelter from the heat, this time the herd moved easily.
“Come on, Peanut!” yelled Jennifer Lunsford, an adult daughter who helps run the L & L dairy farm. “You know what time it is.”
Other cows, known on sight by the Lunsford family by both name and generational history, were also greeted according to their personalities.
People of all ages toured the Lunsfords' southeastern Iowa dairy farm. Younger members of the tour group, however, enjoyed the calf barn most of all. (Iowa Independent photo)
“I don’t care how nice that mud is, you’ve got to get moving,” Jennifer said. And then, as the cow rose and exposed an extremely mud-laden udder, Jennifer laughed. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that she is milked on my mom’s side.”
Elaine Lunsford, Jennifer’s mother, remained by the parlor, bringing in the first batch of 10 cows, five on each side of the parlor, and arranging others in the holding pen. Certain members of the herd have particular needs at milking time, such as only using a specific side of the milking parlor or exiting through certain doors.
“They are creatures of habit,” Elaine explained.
The hands-on assembly line process, which continued long after the sun had set, was filled with anecdotes about members of the herd. Care was taken to provide the optimal milking environment for each one, with emphasis placed on the intimate lessons that twice-a-day milking produces.
“Come on girl,” coaxed Jennifer, as she took the lead cow from her mother’s line and encouraged it to take the lead spot on her side of the parlor. The move is an important one because Virgin, a cow described as having a “queen-bee complex,” was not pleased with being in the second milking slot. Virgin will make the milking process more difficult if she is not the lead cow on the line.
These two young Ayrshire bulls spent most of the day trying to nurse on each other's ears. (Iowa Independent photo)
As the cows took their place on the waist-high line, each was checked. Warm soapy water was first applied to the udders, which were then washed by hand before being rinsed clean. Because of the mud, the process was slow, deliberate and often included additional body parts. Tails flicked and large brown eyes roamed the parlor, obviously nervous about a stranger observing and helping with the milking.
While the Lunsfords and other dairy farmers on the tour were quick throughout the day to offer their assessments of the low milk prices plaguing dairy industry and driving so many out of business, not a word of the problem was spoken in the parlor. It was as if the cows shouldn’t know the milk they were producing wouldn’t garner enough money to provide for the farm.
Sweat glinted and then flowed down the milkers’ bodies as the already hot parlor gained the added bonus of the cows’ body heat. Still, large glass collection bottles filled with fresh milk from the cows were warm to the touch.
“This is a family farm,” Jennifer said as a matter-of-fact. “It isn’t just because we run and operate the farm, but because all aspects of what we do and how we treat the herd is as family. We give them the same considerations that other people give to pets or extended family.”
Elaine added, “If you take good care of the cows, they’ll take good care of you.”
Those beliefs, according to Iowa family farmer and clinical psychologist Mike Rosmann, are often misunderstood or taken too lightly by those who do not have an agricultural or rural background.
“Consumers have become disconnected from the food supply,” Rosmann, executive director of AgriWellness, said. “They look at rural as a recreation area, as a place to tour for beauty. We have some fairly good indications that once we are more than three generations removed from the farm, we lose the emotional connections to the land. Our understanding of where food comes from deteriorates because we kind of take it for granted.”
Rosmann believes that just as animals will seek out necessary land resources to provide for themselves and their families, humans also have such instincts within their genetic make-up.
“When the territory is threatened through the possible foreclosure on the farm, that’s when farm people are most vulnerable,” he said. “These farm families become very afraid that where they get meaning in their lives will be removed from them.
“Dairy farmers, in certain ways, have a greater attachment because of the closeness to their animals. This is especially true of family-sized dairy farmers. … In the family-sized operations, there is a great deal of respect that the farmer or the owner has for the cows, and the cows come to trust that owner. It is a mutually beneficial relationship.”
Because farmers typically don’t view their occupation as a job that can be easily switched and also because of their psychological attachments to their land and livestock, many feel great despair when faced with economic hard times. Not only are they letting down themselves and their families, but they are letting down the animals and land they’ve come to respect and love.
“I still dream about my cows,” Rosmann, who raised Simmental cattle for breeding purposes, admitted. “We produced bulls and heifers … and I can still see my cows. I know their names. I know their ear tags. Everything.”
