Indiana Family Farms

Revealing the face of Indiana agriculture.

The Huber Dairy Farm

At their home near tiny St. Paul, Indiana, Keith Huber and his wife Janet, celebrated a rural milestone. They had been dairying for 50 years on February 29, 2008. The Huber’s, a devout and humble family, passed that milestone with only the brief notice Keith paused to give the date during the noontime milking and when he reminded Janet of it during supper. For many businesses, 50 consecutive years and three generations now in the fold is a rare accomplishment. But for the Huber family and so many Indiana livestock producers like them, 50 years is not a dream, nor a milestone, it is simply the marking of a goal and the belief that what they do every day will continue.

         

“I started milking for a neighbor lady who lived about a mile away in high school for 40 percent of the milk check,” recalls family patriarch, Keith Huber, of his early days dairying. “I had gained her respect through 4-H work,” he adds proudly. He left for a two year college program and, upon returning, he went 50/50 with his neighbor for four years. Then, she offered him a deal he and Janet could not refuse – to buy the land on contract, buying her out over time. “We couldn’t have done it if she hadn’t offered contract. We just didn’t have any money back then,” Keith said as Janet nods, remembering. The couple started with just eight cows, but now he and son Brian’s combined operation owns about 70 dairy cows. In some ways, the farm continues today much as it began; it is 150 acres now and was 138 when the Huber’s purchased it.

         

A dairy is an operation that raises cows by breeding females, calving them out, and replacing young females, called heifers, back into the herd. Dairies raise cows for milk, not meat, like beef producers. The work load is continuous, leading more than a few grain farming neighbors to call anything that is a lot of work “like being married to a dairy.” The Hubers milk cows every day, three times a day, at 4:30 AM, 12:30 PM, and again at 8:30 PM. The work is truly never over on a dairy farm.

         

The Hubers raised their five children on the same land they occupy today. Son Brian and his wife Shirley are actively involved in the operation and are raising their four children, Kylie, Seth, Brianna, and Aaron, just a mile away on the land where Keith was born and raised. The grandchildren work in the dairy, too, and are homeschooled. Kylie, now 21, is off to college in nearby Indianapolis studying to be a Vet Tech. Oldest son Seth, 19, is considered the farm’s most valuable mechanic. Employed on the farm full-time, he keeps busy with feeding cows and calves, cleaning the barn at least once a day, and maintaining an organized shop. He would not have it any other way. “I wake up about 5, get out here about 6, and then work until dinner,” Seth says: “Dinner” is the rural equivalent to a noontime lunch break. “I really enjoy this,” he states.

         

Brian and Shirley own 60 acres and cash rent another 425 of crop land. Like many farm families, the lines between who owns what are blurred daily when labor, equipment, and cows are shared, but evens out in the end. “I’ve been dairying since 1986 when I started working for Dad for wages. Now I own 30 head,” Brian says. Transition, the long standing expectations on family farms, follows suit with the sands of time. “You see where this is going, don’t you,” chuckles Keith. “Someday Brian will take the farm.”

         

Shirley, a wife, mother, teacher, and dairy farmer is no stranger to animals. She milks daily at midday. Growing up in Michigan, she lived on a dairy farm and was attending God’s Bible College in Cincinnati, Ohio, when Brian’s sister introduced them. After two years in town, Shirley was ready to move back to a farm, even if she did have to move south. “I just kept thinking, ‘Lord, just send me a farmer!’” she laughs, meekly at first, then loudly as the entire group gathered at the dinner table joins her.

         

Though small farms were extremely common two generations ago, by the late 1970’s, Brian saw little room for him on the farm at first. “I could have started the day I got out of high school,” he says of his wish to farm full-time. Being the oldest of five, there just was no room for me to come back yet.” So, like many Indiana farm kids, Brian went off to school for a few years, then found a local job in the agriculture industry. He worked for an agriculture equipment dealer for five years before returning to dairying.

         

Also like most Indiana livestock farms, diversifying into crops is essential. Brian started raising corn and beans in 1991, and Keith raises crops by cash renting additional acres as well. The farm women are no different, finding various occupations either to make or save money. “Mom would always babysit and the kids would come here at milking time,” Shirley recalls of the time when her children were small. Instead of working in town and hiring a babysitter, the women shared the role of childcare so Shirley could milk cows. She now also owns a craft shop called Olde Barn Primitives. “The family renovated an old barn for the shop,” Janet says proudly of the building once used by Brian’s grandfather. Shirley summed up today’s farming diversity. “Everything is a little bit parttime,” she says.

         

The process of getting milk from the cow’s udder to the consumer’s table is at once fascinating and simple. It all begins with the cow, of course, the quiet, gentle creature that rests most of the day and, when it is time, goes patiently as one of the Huber family walks her into the milk parlor. Once in the parlor, 10 cows stand in separate stalls where Keith and Shirley attach electronic milking equipment to the udders. Cows chew their cuds lazily as the milk is moved through the machine’s tubes into the milk house, a room where the fresh milk exits hoses into large stainless steel tanks for storage at about 37 degrees. The milk is purchased by a cooperative and picked up every two days by a hauler that trucks it straight to the processor. “Our milk goes to a Kroger processing plant in Winchester, Kentucky. It takes about five days to get from the cow to the gallon,” Brian explains.

         

Milk safety is the biggest concern at the dairy farm, thus each tank is sampled and tested by the processor. Tests search for traces of antibiotics, which the Hubers do not want in the milk. If antibiotics are found, they will receive a lower price and the milk will not be used for human consumption. High quality milk means higher prices and the Huber’s strive every day for excellent safety and sanitation standards.

         

Animal husbandry, or care of the animals, is also important on the dairy farm. With the youngest generation always working around the cows, the animals have to be tame and used to people. Keeping the cows calm and comfortable is always a priority, so “the girls” rest on raised beds of sawdust inside the barn between milking. Cows are literally bred by hand through artificial insemination. Brian and his daughter Kylie do the breeding. “She has as much potential as anybody,” Brian says of his daughter’s natural knack of working with cows.

         

Balancing the risks of dairying along with the ups and downs of crop years, based upon weather and commodity markets, takes faith. The Huber’s value their faith in God and place it at the core of their lives. “God is at the center of our family,” Keith says as he gazes at his family group. All four elder Hubers are Sunday school teachers at Wesley Chapel, and both Keith and Brian serve on the church board. Janet is especially involved; she’s been playing the organ at Wesley for 56 years.

         

Family has also been the center of the Huber’s way of life, Keith notes, saying that while farming has not made them rich, it has made them happy. “I’ve certainly enjoyed watching these four grandchildren grow up.” Youngest grandson, Aaron, agrees that he has led a great life on the farm. “It’s just fun to be around the farm.” The Hubers occasionally have visitors including “city kids” students on school tours. The visitors sometimes help them realize just how much they value farm life. “Other people are just so excited with what we take for granted that we have here,” Seth says. Brian’s appreciation of the farm comes from a different perspective; he feels working side-by-side with his children helps make him a better dad. “When you’re working in front of your kids, it can be a humbling experience for you,” he laughs, with a tough of a grimace.

         

For his part, Keith is easing into the idea of passing the torch, but he is not ready just yet. Now that he has reliable help from two younger generations, he enjoys traveling a bit and supporting the dairy industry through meetings and events such as Dairy Farmer’s of America and Milk Promotion Services of Indiana. “I enjoy getting to see the other side of the milk check. It’s a real treat to leave the farm sometimes.”

         

As for the future, Keith feels his family is positioned to work through challenges facing the industry. “Dairy is becoming so huge with thousands of cows on a farm. I believe that a family with 50-100 cows can make it selling quality – and quality is the thing,” Keith explains with knowing look. “We have to put a quality product out there that consumer’s demand. The consumer really carries such a big stick now. We want the consumer to know that they can safely consume milk without any fear.”

 

 

 

Listen to the Hubers talk about their farm

 

 

 

 

The Jones Robotic Dairy Farm

Nestled among the quiet corn fields of North Central Indiana a rather high tech thing is happening on one Indiana dairy farm. A family farm that is in its fourth generation near Star City is now one of the little known innovators in Indiana, the Midwest, and even the nation. Though the family is still involved in the dairy business and they still sell milk and they still raise cows, no body milks – at all – not even one cow. In fact, they have not milked cows since 2003, though a truck bound for Dean Foods leaves with 15,000 gallons of fresh milk every other day. The Jones family loves cows; do not get them wrong, they have just found a better “employee” for the milking job. The Jones family owns a robotic dairy.

 

In 2003, Sammy and Pam Jones and their four children embarked on a completely new journey and set a plan in motion to change their farm and their future. “Research shows that you can increase milk production 10 – 14 percent if you switch from milking two times a day to three times a day,” says Sammy. Initially, with children leaving for college, those at home involved with all kinds of activities, and 525 acres of crops to manage plus over 100 crows to milk; the increase in production seemed an impossible increase overload. However, the family had already spent two years looking into robotics as a solution. “We saw that robots were being used to milk more cows and get more milk from the cows,” Sammy explains, saying that he took the kids, his wife, and his mother-in-law, Norma Miller, on various trips to factories, universities and other farms to see robotic milking systems. “The purpose of robots was to keep (the operation) as a family farm without having a hired man,” Pam concludes simply.

 

Everyone’s opinion mattered because the future of the dairy was going to affect two generations. “We all sat down and discussed it; it was a family decision,” remembers youngest daughter Amy Jones who is a junior at Purdue University. Once the Joneses installed the equipment, they were the first in Indiana to have a robotic dairy. “People have called us pioneers,” Pam laughs. “We don’t thing of ourselves that way!”

 

Now, almost five years later, the Jones family has weathered initial storms with the new technology and has adjusted nicely to the change. The younger generation likes the robotic part, and all four children are involved in various capacities around the farm. Oldest son Josh is an integral part, being armed with the biological engineering degree from Purdue; he is the manager of the robots. Daughter Christy Coon lives less than a mile away; and, though she works full time for the Creamery License Division through Purdue University, she and her husband, Craig, help around the farm regularly. Like Amy, younger son Ryan is still at Purdue where he is a visual communications and graphic design major. “The (kids) are fourth generation on granddad’s farm. My dad took over in 1942,” Sammy explains. Pam, too, grew up around farm living, and she’s never enjoyed anything more. “I’ve done cows and kids for the last 30 years,” she relates. Adding with a whimsical laugh: “I was climbing over gates feeding calves when I went into labor with Josh!”

 

Sammy is clearly proud of being an early adopter of the technology he believes is extremely efficient. “Nobody spends their time any more collecting money,” Sammy says using his hands to indicate the motion of milking cows. “We spend our time now making money.” Amazingly, less human contact in the milking process seems to yield far more contented cows. And more contented cows give more milk. “The average cow gives 74-75 pounds of milk in a 24-hour period,” Sammy says, adding that with the robots his cows can be milked around the clock every day of the year. Indeed, the barn and feeding area are extremely quiet, no cows bawling here. The barn is also practically spotless, the scent of cow barely pervading the scene in the Jones’ pristine environment.

 

Sammy describes himself as a “cowologist,” or in his own words, someone who learns about and attempts to understand cow behavior in order to create the best environment for them. Using the belief, the methodology for the automatic milkers works. “Other dairymen come here and are very skeptical at first, but this is just a cow path like any other. The automatic milkers are a series of one way gates. The point is the whole thing has to be a pleasant experience for the cows.”

 

Basically cows are kept “up front” in a large outdoor corral with access to the barn. Being trained, when they sense the urge to be milked, or simply want to eat, they push themselves into an indoor holding area. A cow’s natural tendency toward a pecking order comes into play here, keeping the area uncrowded as only about five or six cows are in the holding area at one time. Next, cows enter the automatic milking machines. There are two machines and again, with one-way gates, a first cow goes in and moves all the way to the first machine. When she is standing in a stall, the gate closes behind her. The next cow comes in and stands in a second stall, with the gate closing behind her. No additional cows are allowed through until those two are done milking.

 

The machine automatically reads each cow’s ear tag and accesses (based on production history stored on computer) if that cow should be milked or not. If she’s ready, and 90 percent of the time she is, the machine first gently cleans and stimulates her udder and four teats with a soft brush. Then using a laser bean, each tear is individually found, and the machine attaches itself and begins to milk. With each quarter being milked separately, maximum production is achieved from the cow and her udder is not overstressed from being milked longer than necessary. Once the milker is finished, the udder is spritzed with iodine to prevent infection. Now come the incentive part. The gate opens and the cow proceeds to fresh feed and water in a bright, sunny barn. Once she has eaten, she leaves the feed area through another one-way gate and goes outside to rest.

 

When the system works, which Sammy says is most of the time, it is major time and cost saver. “The robots replace two hired hands; and they’re never late, have no behavior or attitude problems, and don’t cost me social security taxes,” Sammy laughs.

 

Because the Joneses are operating a business, they want as much production as possible, but they also want to achieve that as naturally as possible. So, Sammy and Josh have employed a variety of natural techniques to improve production and improve comfort for the cows all without adding hormones. One such improvement is long-day lighting. “Josh actually started this as a 4-H project one year, then the next year he installed the 6 photo cells to go on and off automatically at dawn and dusk,” Sammy says. By adding lights so that the barn is bright all dark hours of the 24-hour period actually improves milk production. Pam explains that the greater exposure to light increases the production of melatonin in the cow’s liver which in turn increases the production of milk. University studies show that this increase yields 3 – 4 percent more milk. “We don’t have to give shots; we get more milk with nature!” Sammy believes.

 

The Joneses do not stop there. They have taken bold, yet absolutely free, measures to keep cows interested and milking well. “Hear that,” Sammy states as he plays a loud recording of a calf bellowing. “That’s a four day old dairy calf bawling and it’s piped in every time a cow is milked,” Pam smiles knowingly. “Women who’ve had children get what this noise does so quickly.” For everyone else, the bawling sound has been proven to cause the cows to “let down their milk” in greater quantity and faster – not a lot more, but enough for Sammy. “It’s what God meant. It’s a natural oxytocin release,” he says. For the business side, the Joneses believe they get 1 1/3 pound increase in milk production from the calf noise. That amounts to almost $10,000 additional dollars every year.

 

The Joneses also prefer to let the cows rest outside between milkings because the fresh air keeps awaits a host of problems, namely respiratory conditions that can thrive in humid indoor environments. Sammy is even working with flavorings for the cow’s feed. As a cowologist, he theorizes that, if his cows were more interested in eating, they would go through the system and the robots more times in a 24 hour period. “We’ve got four different flavors: alfalfa, caramel, molasses, and root beer,” Sammy says. He is still tweaking the combinations to find what works best. “We have found out that our cows don’t like bubble gum!” Regardless of the snickers Sammy and Pam sometimes get from fellow dairy farmers, they do not mind. Their extra behavioral research all adds up to the bottom line More milk to sell means staying small and making more.

 

With the innovations at Jones Robotic Dairy and their enthusiasm for educating the public, it is no wonder that over 600 people visit the farm each year. They have had visitors from eight countries and 23 states. Purdue University specialists of every variety come out four to five times a year. Pam’s favorite visitors are school kids and community groups. “Pre-schoolers have become regulars here through the Milk Promotions of Indiana,” Pam explains. “At first they come out holding their noses, but by the time they’re done, they’re right up next to the cows petting them.” Children also receive an educational program upstairs in a finished room about the barn. Pam offers Dean’s milk, a take home gift, books, and a little discussion of what well-known products are made from milk. Kids even practice milking with a bucket and stool. “We’re really hands-on with our tours here. We want to make smart consumers and educate them,” she says.

 

Family farmers, innovators, pioneers, and simply parents: one thing is true about Sammy and Pam, they certainly bring new meaning to the phrase “keeping up with the Joneses.”

 

 

 

Listen to the Jones famly tell theier story

 

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