A Dairy in Kearny
newspaper feature story from 1942
 Miss Sophie Miller, a gray-haired spinster in her 60s, operates almost single-handed a dairy farm and milk route in the heart of West Hudson's industrial area. Miss Miller has worked on the farm for more than half a Century. It was established by her mother, Mrs. John Miller, after she 'had been left a widow with seven small children to support. Mrs. Miller died 17 years ago, at the age of 78. All the other children had married and moved away, so Miss Miller was left alone to run the business. Now she'd like to retire—if she can find someone to take her place.
"But who will run the milk route and milk the cows if I give up?" Miss Miller asked. "Things are much different here now. Years ago, before this city grew up around me, most of the neighbors had cows; and if I was sick, one or two women would come in and milk the cows for me. But who around here could milk a cow?" Miss Miller's "farmhouse" is at 38 Schuyler Avenue, Kearny, at the corner of Radley Street. Across the street is Harrison Gardens, federal housing project.
The farm property is no more than 100 by 200 feet. A milk shed is attached to the house. In the rear is a barn, now housing eight cows. The herd once numbered 29. In addition, the tiny property supports a horse, 75 chickens, five cats, six dogs and a patch of corn.
Needless to say, there's little room for pasture. Five days a week Miss Miller drives her herd to the yard of T. Shriver & Co., a nearby factory. Saturdays and Sundays the animals graze on a Harrison avenue lot—and thus must be driven back and forth through heavy motor traffic. Miss Miller's working schedule is almost incredible for one of her years. She rises at. 5 A. M., seven days a week; fetches milk from the cooling house, loads her wagon and serves her route, which covers Harrison and Kearny. On snowy winter mornings she must rise an.hour earlier to shovel out the yard. When she returns from making deliveries she must feed and care for the livestock, clean house, cook her own meals, milk the cows and bottle the milk. By the time she finishes bottling and scrubs out the milk house it is usually past 11 P. M. Miss Miller says she has had no more than five hours' sleep a night for 17 years. An aged handy-man is Mrs. Miller's only helper. He waters the cows, picks up feed and cleans the barn.
Miss Miller goes to the movies about once every two years. It's a sacrifice, however. When she's out during the evening, her work is delayed so long that by the time she finishes bottling, it's very nearly time to start delivering. "The doctor has told me to give It up," Miss Miller said. "It's because of my leg. You can see it's swelled up. It has been that way ever since I fell off the wagon a while back. "I can't keep going at this pace much longer. I'd like to stay in Kearny, but it's impossible to get help right now." Miss Miller's dream is a little place in Sussex county, in the true dairy farm country, where she can rest. "Of course," she smiled, "I'll bring one or two of the cows with me, and maybe a few of the chickens—just for company." |