Pine Plains Farmers Draw Full House with Memories of Yesterday and Plans for Tomorrow

Local dairy farmers gathered before a packed hall at The Stissing Center on March 4 to remember the heyday of Pine Plains farming and celebrate the central role they continue to play in sustaining family farms.

The occasion was the premiere of “Our Farms, Our Farmers,” a documentary film by New Pine Plains Herald contributor Murphy Birdsall, who grew up in Pine Plains, and her husband Keith Reamer.  

More than 250 people attended the screening, which kicked off the town’s bicentennial celebrations and was followed by a roundtable discussion with the area farmers featured in the film. The conversation was moderated by Daisy Sindelar, the managing editor of the New Pine Plains Herald. 

The farmers told the story of a land rich in history and personalities. The participants spoke of how they used grit and ingenuity to survive the many challenges of dairy farming, how the area has changed over time, and how their children and younger farmers today are reimagining farming and finding new ways to prosper. 

Pine Plains farmers have shaped this area as much as the glaciers that carved the area’s gentle hills and valleys. “We are the breadbasket,” said Barry Chase, who ran Chaseholm Farm with his wife, Rosey, for 35 years before retiring in 2007. “Our land is very precious. It’s good land. You can make a living with it.” 

“Ag is what drew people here in the first place,” said Lloyd Vaill Jr., who runs Lo-Nan Farm with his father, Lloyd Vaill Sr. “We appreciate that the community accepts that this work is very important. People don’t seem to mind when we need to spread manure.” 

An Evolving Industry   

Change has come fast and local farmers have had to adapt. Since 2006, the number of U.S. dairy farms has decreased by half. There are now fewer than 30,000 nationwide. Over that same period, however, milk production has increased by 24%. “The number of cows in the country is the same,” said Rick Osofsky of Ronnybrook Farm. “It’s just that they’re in these huge farms that are nothing but factories.”  

The result of this consolidation is closed businesses that used to support local farms and a dwindling population of farmers themselves. “If you drive across New York state you see all these small towns that used to be farming towns that are barely hanging on,” said Osofsky.  

To illustrate the point, Barry Chase read from an extensive list of businesses that were active in town in the mid-20th century. “Back in the 1940’s there were 40 dairy farms just in Pine Plains,” he said, compared to just four today. “It was a vibrant community. I had four or five people working for me and they had families. Everyone shopped locally. There were no Walmarts. That was the reason Pine Plains was so successful.”  

Some of the farmers blamed shifting economics and the extensive government controls required for milk production. “The federal government controls every aspect of the operation,” said Osofsky. “Farmers have no idea how the prices for milk are set.”  

Asked how they survive, Rory Chase, who produces artisanal cheeses for Chaseholm Farm, said, “You try to not steer into the void.” 

“It’s a good year if you break even,” said Barry Chase, his father.  

Maintaining Connections 

The loss of farms was clearly painful. “We’ve seen our good friends disappear,” said Vaill Jr. “By the time I was growing up, a big percentage of my friends worked at IBM. Change had happened.”   

On the flip side, those farms that do survive have grown stronger through hard work and flexibility.  “The good thing [about the consolidation] is that it allows us to grow the size of the farm,” said Vaill Jr. Lo-Nan farm, which sells its milk to the Agri-Mark dairy co-op, has grown fast and now counts 600 head.   

“All four operations are really interconnected now,” added Ronnybrook’s Osofsky. “We work closely together.”  

On stage there were flashes of the humor that keeps farmers going. “Cows give us 14 essential nutrients,” said Rick Osofsky. “You can’t make a better machine than that, but they are working on it.” 

As with any gathering of farmers, stories were produced. These included reminiscences of legendary Pine Plains farmers. Osofsky singled out Muriel Pulver, whose farm was located close to Stissing Mountain. “That woman ran the farm all by herself,” he said. “She was brilliant.” 

The farmers agreed that theirs is a profession in which women are welcomed into the workforce on an equal basis with men. “Women have been an integral part of the farm community since the beginning,” said Barry Chase. 

“Today there are many more women graduating as vets than men,” added Sarah Chase, his daughter, who this month marked 10 years of running Chaseholm Farm, during which she’s moved to an organic and grass-fed operation that markets directly to consumers.  

The film underscores how the farmers and the greater Pine Plains community have traditionally supported each other. When a child nodded off in study hall, the teacher would understand that she or he had been working on the farm since 4 a.m. and had already put in a full day, said John Boadle, a farmer and tractor mechanic featured in the documentary. “They would just gently tap them on the shoulder to wake them up.”  

Against all odds, farming has survived and even prospered in Pine Plains. The farmers attribute this, in part, to an informal apprenticeship program and a profound respect for young people. That’s key to passing the farm on. “The kids were dragged out to help, they didn’t seem to mind,” said Barry Chase. “One of my highlights was seeing Sarah’s love for her cow. We’ve had a great life.” 

“Our parents were careful not to make us feel we had to take over the farm, because it’s hard,” said Sarah Chase. 

Young Farmers Lead the Way 

State and federal grants and sponsorship programs allow young people to begin farming even if they do not own land. One of the speakers was Ben Prentice, a recent Pine Plains high school graduate and self-described hobby farmer who has begun producing hay to support local farms. Prentice expressed concern about growing sales of farmable land for real estate development.  

“Making hay requires land. I’ve seen fields turned into houses, land being demo’d and more houses going up,” Prentice said. “It’s a weird state to be in. You want more people here, because you want more product to be sold. But you also need the land to be able to make the product.”  

Led by a new generation, some Pine Plains farms survive today by cutting out the middleman, building their brand, and marketing directly to the public at Greenmarkets, farm stores, and Community Supported Agriculture ventures. 

Ronnybrook pioneered this effort with the launch of bottled-milk sales in the early 1990s, followed by yogurt and ice cream bearing the signature farm name. Dan Osofsky — whose father, Ronnybrook founder Ronny Osofsky, died last year – said it was a move that meant stepping away from the security of the coops.  

“We were always ready to take a risk or a chance,” he said. “Maybe it was something that didn’t make a lot of sense, but we would try it.”  

“We are all programmed to hate coops,” Rick Osofsky added. “But it’s scary without them.”    

Sarah Chase spoke of an explosion in small-scale farming. “There are tons of small vegetable farms that have started around here in the last 10 years that are still going strong,” she said.  Quietly, in the film and at the roundtable, the farmers expressed their love for their life.  

“There’s an overriding sense of peace about it,” said Rick Osofsky. And I think it has to do with the cows. The craziness goes on around them, and they’re sort of…walking.” 

Old habits are hard to break. “I’m retired now,” said Barry Chase. “But I still get up at 5:30 every morning. I spend a lot of time looking out the window and smiling when I see Sarah go by on a tractor. I do not miss milking cows, though. It was hard. I have two metal knees.”  

“I am aware of the power of the land,” he added. “The smells, the sights. It’s all-encompassing. Dairy farming is a high.”  

At the close of the conversation, the Pine Plains farmers received a standing ovation from the audience before gathering around the stage talking until late. “Farmers don’t get a chance to get together much,” said Lloyd Vaill Jr. “So we do enjoy talking.”  

Original music for “Our Farms, Our Farmers” was composed and performed by Jim Petrie. The 22-minute film was produced by the Little Nine Partners Historical Society. 

Editor’s note: This article has been updated to correct the spelling of Lloyd Vaill Jr. and Lloyd Vaill Sr.