When a lifelong dairyman passes away, it’s hard. But when that man is your grandfather, it’s even more difficult to cope.

My wife’s grandfather, Riley L. Mickelson of Lago, Idaho, a dairyman since his youth, recently passed away at the age of 74.

I became acquainted with Riley five years ago; I was courting my wife, Sandra, when we visited Riley’s dairy and farmstead. We shook hands for the first time after he’d come in from the parlor late at night. I can still hear him climbing up from the basement with his well-worn black boots scuffing the linoleum-covered stairs. Every other step was delayed a half-second or so. His right leg worked harder climbing those stairs than the other as the result of a hip replacement long ago. But then he always worked hard no matter the task. And for decades very little stopped him from making it to the parlor each night or to do chores in the morning. He passed away in a tractor accident, and literally he died with his boots on.

At his funeral, his family filled those boots with flowers to honor his memory. It was a fitting way to honor the death of a dairyman.

Dairymen are the lifeblood of America. Their values and work ethic are instilled in generations of current and former farm kids. Riley’s grandchildren knew that they most pleased their grandfather when they showed up on time. Dedication and persistence were his trademarks. His family said he firmly believed that when you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.

The American economy is stronger for having had many of its workers once employed by a dairy. In addition to touting the safe, healthy products that dairies produce, producers should not be ashamed to talk about the admirable character that American dairy families impregnate in society.

That’s probably one of the reasons dairy products are so highly regarded by consumers. It’s hard to bad-mouth a cow when you know of the care involved in owning or working with one. And whether Americans have had a personal experience with cattle in order to gain such respect or not, I believe that respect for dairy producers can be gained second-hand. It is obtained when dairy producers tell their story. In this issue, there are several examples of how producers have done just that (see pages 18-19, 23-24.)

Being proud to dairy includes caring for the animals and sharing the experiences that working with them creates.

Following Riley’s passing, his children recalled the visit of some dairymen from Japan to their southeastern Idaho farm. As the international visitors surveyed the cattle in hopes of purchasing some of the farm’s genetics, one of the men said, “Man, you have some of the best Holstein cattle in the United States.” Riley’s response summarizes why he tied a knot and hung on until the end, dying as an active dairyman. “We’re not raising cows. We’re raising kids,” he said. PD