My brother Jim and I spent many wonderful summers working on dairy farms in Wisconsin owned by Mom's cousins, and as members of our local Boy Scout troop.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I'm one of nine sisters. My parents were dairy farmers in Wisconsin. My father didn't believe in girls doing farm work. Girls did housework, and he hired young men to do farm work. I would have preferred to be outside.
I worked on a farm for a little bit.
As I grew older, farms in Kentucky provided me with many jobs in hauling hay and in cutting tobacco. In addition to helping fund my college years, these jobs helped me to meet an array of very interesting and amazing men and women.
My grandfather milked several cows twice a day and supplied the neighbours with dairy products. He liked to go visiting around the county on Saturdays, and he also enjoyed the neighbours when they came by once a week with their empty milk jars. He walked them out to their cars and hung over the driver's side window until they drove off.
I grew up in Southern Oregon. My father was a sawmill worker and a logger, and his job put food on the table.
I grew up around the corner from my grandparents' dairy farm, which was three miles outside of a small town called Phoenix.
I have to say that it was working with my grandpa, who grew up on a farm in Mountain Home, Idaho, that had the most influence. Witnessing his work ethic and hearing his stories gave me an appreciation for the farm's best lessons.
I grew up in Colorado and spent my summers in Montana as a ranch hand.
My father had a dairy farm. He employed three black families and one white family, and I used to play with black children.
I moved to Princeton, Indiana, and became a professional Farm Manager for that Princeton Farms.