Walter George WHITE
1960 - The farm at Barker Road by Clarence A. Crandall

Our Berkshires

WHEN MY FRIEND Walter White and I chance to motor along Barker Road in the vicinity of the Pittsfield Airport, Walter is inclined to heave a nostalgic sigh. For the airport is located on a portion of what used to be an 85 - acre farm, once owned by the Berkshire Brewing Assn., and Walter has found memories of the time when, as a youth, he assisted in haying operations thereon.

The present runway of the airport occupies the site of a big meadow where Walter assisted, years ago, in harvesting a bumper crop of hay. His duty it was to operate the horse-drawn hay rake to get the hay ready for loading and storing in the loft of the barn on the farm.

THE BREWERY, founded by Walter's father, the late John White, and the late Jacob Gimlich, was then in full operation, turning out lager, ale and malt extract, all famed for their high qualities. Thirty-five horses were used in those days to draw the big brewery trucks, and the farm fitted nicely into the plant economy.

The hay crop's annual harvest, fed the 35 horses in the trucking department, and there was enough also for a team of horses permanently attached to the farm, of which the late John Willbrandt was superintendent. A herd of six cows and the two resident horses were pastured on 10 acres of the farm. The remaining 76 acres were used for raising field crops, including 150 bushels of big potatoes and 500 bushels of corn for animal feed, annually.

Other livestock raised on the farm included 150 hens, a flock of 100 ducks and 150 Chester white pigs. While haying operations were under way, each summer, Walter used to reside temporarily in the seven-room house at the farm. The house is still there.

Food products from the farm were shared equally by the White and Gimlich families. The dairy provided all the milk and cream they needed and also about 25 pounds of butter weekly for each family. Any surplus butter was sold, much of it to the late Ebenezer King, who then ran a store in Pontoosuc. Surplus potatoes sold for 35 cents per bushel.

WHEN EACH AUTUMN came, the annual crop of hogs was slaughtered. They generally weighed about 175 pounds, dressed weight. What the two families didn't need was sold for three dollars per dressed hog. That was the prevailing market price around 1898, and for some time later on. The 500 bushels of corn were fed to the pigs, for proper fattening, the latter part of each summer and early fall.

In addition to the farm crops of hay and corn utilized to feed the brewery horses and farm stock, spent malt grain from the big brewery vats was used as a supplementary feed at the farm, carted there in big wagon loads and usually stored in big tanks or bins. It was doled out daily to the livestock. The manure from all farm animals was plowed back into the fields or spread on the meadowland, ensuring annual bumper crops of hay and corn. Thus operated, the farm supplied all the essential farm food needed for the brewers' families and for all the livestock, except for a seasonal supply of oats, bought to supplement the hay diet of the truck horses. Any surplus of the "brewery grain" from the fermenting vats was sold to the farmers about the county for cattle feed, at three cents a bushel. At that price, none was left to go to waste.

Then, in 1919, Prohibition came and destroyed this bucolic picture. The brewery went out of operation and the farm was no longer needed. In the ultimate liquidation of-the company, in 1921 or 1922, Walter recalls that he could have had the 86-acre farm, house, barn and all, for $3,500 to apply on his share, but he didn't accept the offer as he didn't intend to engage in farming as an occupation.

Accordingly, it was sold and one of the subsequent owners sold off the big meadow area, which Walter had raked in many previous haying seasons, to the newly formed Pittsfield Airport Corp. for $15,000, retaining the rest of the farm and buildings thereon. Reflecting, now, on the subsequent development of the $3,500 property, Walter says he has a nagging feeling that in this particular instance, at least, he really missed the boat—financially. And when he now notes an airplane taking off or taxiing on the site of his hay-raking activities of years ago, he is really sensible of the flow of time and of the changes it inevitably carries in its entourage.

A RATHER ludicrous happening at the old farm, when it was in its prime, is still one of Walter's vivid memories. On one occasion, he recalls, a big load of the malt brewery grain was dumped in a big pile near the barn and the ducks, hogs and cows all gorged themselves on the grain which still retained a realistic basic alcoholic content. In consequence, all became drunk as lords and their actions and expressions were so ludicrous that he says he will never forget the general ensemble of this bucolic version of an old Roman feast.

Cows and hogs were unable to move and just groaned or grunted. Milk pails were not needed that day. And the ducks were flat on their backs with webbed feet elevated skyward and eyes rolling. Walter recalls that he took the ducks and deposited them in their nesting quarters, but the cows and hogs were, perforce, left where they had fallen, inebriated, eventually to sleep off their binges.


The Berkshire Eagle
Pittsfield, Massachusetts
January 21, 1960

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