When Ron Hostetler built a new dairy parlor at his LaGrange County farm in 1997, his goal was to use it for at least 20 years.
Next year would be the 20th year, but Ron and his wife Colleen have decided to quit milking cows a month shy of that milestone.
Facing negative margins, the Hostetlers earlier this year began discussing their options as they approached retirement. Throughout their 42 years in the dairy business, the Topeka couple have survived the ups and downs of the dairy rollercoaster. Ron admits that if he were younger, he would probably ride out this rough patch as well, but at age 63 and with no children interested in carrying on, he and Colleen have decided to liquidate their herd of 75 Holsteins at auction next week.
"We felt that we were at the point that we needed to consider making changes in the operation and probably leaning toward getting out of milking," said Colleen, as her husband choked back tears. "I guess we can say that the outputs (costs) were outweighing the inputs (income)."
Ron has been milking cows for a total of 52 years, since age 10. Ron formalized his role in 1974, becoming part-owner with his father, Bud. When Bud retired in 1992, Ron and Colleen became the sole owners.
Over the next two-plus decades, the farm, with around 90 cows, thrived thanks to good management and the family's hard work. However, Ron says it's becoming more difficult for small dairies to survive these downturns. Milk prices are currently averaging around $15 per hundredweight, or about the cost of production.
"Over those years, we've had these situations before," Ron said, referencing his mantra—"This too shall pass." "But I'll be 63 here in a few months, and we have no one in our family interested in continuing on, so we just decided maybe this is the time. My original plan, anyhow, was maybe try and milk until I was 65 and then probably quit then. But I guess I just beat it (by) a couple years."
The Hostetlers are not alone in making their decision to exit the dairy business. According to Indiana Board of Animal Health figures, the number of Grade A dairy farms in Indiana have dropped by just 5 percent (1,123 in 2015 to 1,068 in 2016) during the past year. But broken down by size, farms that ship a smaller volume of milk have fallen off in greater numbers than large volume producers.
Dairy farms that produce 7,001 pounds and 49,999 pounds declined in number, from 181 to 150, from September 2015 to November of this year, reflecting a 17 percent decrease, BOAH reported.
The smallest dairies—those that produce between 1 and 7,000 pounds of milk—decreased from 899 to 872 during the same period, a decline of just 3 percent, according to BOAH.
By contrast, dairies that produce large volumes of milk (50,000 pounds or more) actually increased (43 to 46) over the same period.
While low prices are one reason for the dwindling numbers, not all farms share the same reason for making this difficult decision to exit.
Dan Armbruster of Syracuse said he has been selling his herd privately in recent weeks. At age 54, he has been milking cows for the past 26 years. Until recently, the farm was on a trajectory to expand, with two of his sons set to return to the farm to help. However, those plans were put on the shelf, not because of low prices, but because of the time commitment.
For Armbruster and his family, they decided to quit milking cows because they felt God was asking them to spend more time on the "important" things, like people and their faith. Dan said he felt like it was time to do something else.
Doug Leman, executive director of the Indiana Dairy Producers organization, said many smaller producers who are approaching retirement have few choices if their children don't wish to continue milking cows. Some producers may feel a sense of disappointment, or even failure, that the dairy operation will sunset during their stewardship of the farm. However, Leman suggested that those who make the difficult decision to sell their cows should look at this moment as an opportunity to celebrate retirement, not failure.
For those farms who wish to continue milking cows, Leman said some families are finding success with on-farm processing, a form of niche marketing that involves the next generation.
For the Hostetlers, they plan to transition into another phase of the dairy business after the milking herd is sold. They plan to raise heifers and focus on the crop operation.
But when milking cows is all you've known for 52 years, the decision to quit feels like you're turning your back on a lifestyle that you've come to love.
Colleen said she was raised on a dairy farm, where she milked cows, baled hay and showed calves in 4-H. Her father never hired any labor.
"So I knew what I was getting into when I married a dairy farmer," she said.
Colleen and her siblings worked on the farm and received a free college education in return. Colleen parlayed that education into a career as an elementary school teacher at Topeka. She is currently in her 39th year of teaching.
She and Ron have three adult children, all of whom are married. They also have three grandchildren.
Ron knows that small dairy farmers like him are quickly falling from the ranks of active producers. The industry is undergoing rapid change.
"The family farm is probably disappearing," he said. "I hate to see that, but it's happening."
He said the farms that survive will become larger, with lower margins, newer facilities and tight-fisted managers.
Although his parlor is only 20 years old, Ron's freestyle barns are 50 years old and not very cow friendly. Modern barns have high ceilings that allow for a free flow of air, which discourages flies and cools the animals during the hot summer months. The design reflects the modern emphasis on cow comfort, which Ron said is responsible for 50 percent of the equation for higher milk production, with the other half being genetics and feed.
"At my age, and with no one interested in doing the dairy thing, I'm not going to go spend a bunch of money and rebuild barns," he said. "We just decided maybe this was the best option."
Over the years, "dairying has been good," Ron said, paying the bills and putting bread on the table. He said that he and Colleen are very thankful to his parents, Bud and Barb, who gave them a start, as well as their veterinarian and former nutritionist, who served them for many years.
He and Colleen said that many tears have been shed over the past few months, and perhaps a few more will come next Tuesday as they watch their cows go to the highest bidder.
Selling the cows, Colleen says, is very difficult, "like a piece of you has died."