I often think that everyone who eats food or drinks milk ought to be required to spend a few  hours on a small family or dairy farm. This is an endangered way of life, smothered by corporate competition, government regulation, and the by now familiar unknowing ignorance of the animal rights movement. It appears that only the big corporate farms, where the cows spend their lives on concrete, where lawyers navigate the maze of government regulations, and where most of the labor is done by cheap immigrant labor, can survive in the global economy.

Like most small farmers, the Gulley’s kids chose other, saner kinds of work, they do the chores and milking and repairs and maintenance themselves. They represent a way of life, freedom and individuality and a life with animals that is becoming more rare and difficult. I am happy to have friends like this, honored to be able to take their photographs and record their remarkable lives while it is still possible. I am grateful to Carol for reading my play, “Last Day Of A Dairy Barn,” and making sure it is accurate and relevant. New friends are always a miracle to me, and these are good ones.