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It’s light outside, but sunrise is still a few minutes away. A ration of ground corn and silage is placed in front of each stanchion and Uncle Harry swings open the big doors on the south end of the barn. With empty bellies and full bags, the cows eagerly file in to their appropriate spots for some early morning relief. Another day has begun on a dairy farm.

Dairy month always gets me thinking about the chore of milking cows; and today in particular the sounds. The cows’ hooves clomp along lazily as they entered the barn … no pushing, no shoving, no butting in ahead in line. Every once in a while a new cow on the block would enter another cow’s stanchion and chaos would ensue. The newbie found a cache of food which she wasn’t about to give up and the veteran was wondering why the heck another cow was in her spot. But for the most part, each animal dutifully occupied the same spot she did the day, week and month before.

Each stanchion had a contraption which closed around the cow’s neck to hold them somewhat in place and they closed with a loud “clack.” I always felt it was more thought than function as the cows were never in a hurry to go anywhere else besides their assigned spots. Sometimes, if the stanchion didn’t get closed, the cow would give a backwards glance during milking. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she seemed to be saying. Perhaps the enclosure provided some sense of comfort in the process.

The old barn radio hung by the electrical outlet with a piece of twine. For all practical purposes, the radio only needed to bring in two stations: WCCO and KDUZ. Once in a while, during a day of heavy barn work, the kids would find some rock and roll on WDGY to make the chores more tolerable. But woe to anyone who forgot to change the station back before leaving the barn.

KDUZ was the local radio station out of Hutchinson, Minn. Serving up a mix of country/western and old tyme music, KDUZ also featured local and ag-related news and the morning “Swap Shop” where people would call in to sell pretty much anything under the sun. Callers would mix in little crop updates and results of last night’s big thunderstorm.

But milking time belonged to WCCO. Charlie Boone and Roger Erickson’s morning show began about the same time the cows marched into the barn through those big doors. “Good morning, good morning … we’re glad to be on hand. Good morning, good morning to youuuuu.” Boone and Erickson would croon along with recorded theme song and hold the “youuuuu” (not always in key). They seemed to be having a good time on the radio and were unbelievably awake. I always wondered what time they had to get up in the morning.

During the summer, the evening milking was accompanied by the Minnesota Twins baseball games on ‘CCO. It was the Halsey Hall era of Twins broadcasting and Halsey could be more entertaining than the game. I remember hearing Harmon Killebrew hitting his 500thhome run against the Baltimore Orioles. Harmon had been in a bit of a slump and seemed stuck on number 499 for an eternity. I’m sure my whoops and hollers that night gave the cows a bit of a start.

So many other sounds accompanied milking. The big air compressor which operated the milking machines pumped and sputtered noisily. The valves on the milking machines clacked and wheezed in metronome fashion. The warm milk was poured from the milker into stainless steel buckets which were then emptied into the strainer on top of the milk cans (before we got the bulk tank). After milking was done and the compressor shut down, the filters were removed from the strainers. At that very moment, every barn cat in the vicinity would noisily jockey for position to lick the filters — meowing with all their might.

First time mothers would moo incessantly when separated from their calf and the calf in turn would cry for momma. (One of the less-favorite sounds in the barn.) It was also important to keep an ear open for a loose-fitting teat cup on the milker or a fidgety cow with a tender quarter. A cow’s patience would only hold out so long before a swift kick would send the milking machine (and milk) flying.

Weather permitting, our cows spent the day in pasture and weren’t as anxious to return to the barn for the second milking. Harry, my dad’s brother, would swing open those big doors on the south end of the barn. “C’mon cows, c’mon cows, c’mon cows!” he would yell in the direction of the pasture. Not really a yodel, but always three times in a sing-song sort of way. I can still hear it today. Sure enough, the cows ambled their way to the barn and took their places to start the process all over again.

Certainly, things have changed a lot from those milking days of my youth. Automation has replaced the old Surge milking machines and cows get milked sometimes three times a day at their own leisure. (No cold hands you-know-where on a winter morning!) But the sounds of the dairy barn are indelible — like a tattoo — and can stay with a person for the rest of their life.

Paul Malchow is the managing editor of The Land. He may be reached at editor@TheLandOnline.com.

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