As he’s letting the farm’s Jerseys across the road, James Lewis jokes that the photographer really shouldn’t bother taking a picture because the operation has been turned over to sons Jeff and Scott. This farm has been handed from generation to generation since James’ great grandfather built the first barn on the other side of the road and started milking over a century ago.

The sixty milkers are encouraged in from the field by James’ grandson, a big junior high-aged fellow who seems right at home with riding the four wheeler and attending to other chores before schoolwork on this pleasant May evening. Bringing the cows in safely is a two-person job, as the new barn (now almost a century old!) lies right beside the speeding traffic of Route 12.

“The local folks know enough to slow down when they’re coming south around that big bend,” James explains, “but every now and then we get an out-of-towner pushing to make a tee time at the club. That’s why we’re glad the state put in this flashing signal up on the corner . . . makes it much safer.” With this, James throws the switch, and the traffic is forewarned.

The traffic moves quicker than when cows were first milked here— but these Jerseys, and the three generations working with them, bring us back into slower rhythms . . . a less hurried way of life.


By Bob Eddy
Cabot/Agrimark