This farm popularly know today as “Happy Farm” was probably built shortly before our Civil War – in the1840's-50's on the eastern edge of Whitefield's Irish section. The land was originally part of the holdings of Fr. Denis Ryan, the first Catholic priest ordained in New England who built and named our St. Denis church ( the 2nd Catholic Church in New England... the 1st was a private chapel). As early as 1832, the Irish Catholic population of this parish was almost 1,200.  It was a vibrant time for this hamlet. Clearing land, building barns and creating homesteads were booming activities in the Sheepscot River valley -. The town population was at an all time high of 2,100 . Construction included the Townhouse in 1843, North Whitefield Union Meetinghouse (church) in 1845 and Howe bridge across the Sheepscot west branch in 1847. The original bridge close to the farm (now Partridge Bridge) was located downstream a bit and was likely on top of the large wooden dam that backed the river up well into the valleys around Finn Brook. This big millpond shown on the 1857 map fed a grist and saw mill on the same site as Father Ryan's earlier fullering mill (a step in wool cloth making). Ryan saw the operation as a way to employ and increase his St. Denis Parish.

For the next hundred years the farm with it's setting along the river, its hilly fields and modest woodlands provided a complete living for several families in succession – with a dream to make a “ living off the land”, start a family and contribute to the vibrant community of Turner's Corner ( later called North Whitefield ) . By now Denis Ryan had moved west and his mills at the bottom of Grand Army hill changed hands and changed focus from parishioner employment to private enterprise.

In 1940 newlyweds Norman and Lydia (Atwood) Chase bought the farm . It's owners the Jodins, sold it for $1,800 which included all furnishings plus 40 acres.   The WWF Narrow Gauge had come and gone, but despite a post-depression economy the dream of making a living on a farm was still alive, albeit with the necessity of working in the “war effort”. Many of the area farmers, including Norman, realized the necessity of working in shipyards nearby in Waldoboro, Bristol and Bath .

It was a modest farm. The house had a dirt floor cellar with a stream of water trickling through and over the clay - when the drain would freeze mid winter after a rain I've seen water 2' deep. There were three bedrooms on the second floor and the main floor had a bedroom, a living room, a dining room with a door to the attic over the living room, and a bathroom – in the el before the shed was the kitchen and pantry with it's iron sink. There was a door that went to the shed through a closet room with stairs to the attic over the kitchen. The shed contained the woodshed and a two holer that we used up into the 50's. Above that shed, there was a full second floor although removal of  supports over the years rendered it VERY shaky, despite the metal rod holding the sides together. In that “minds eye” of mine I can still see the magnificent red chalk drawing of a team of work horses over the woodshed that my memory says was made by Pete Sanderson, - I never could find anyone who remembers it ! The old hay barn was beautiful inside - There was tie-up on the east side - room for 3 or 4 animals.

Dad and Mom populated the farm with a cow, a few chickens, Randolph our dog and us 5 children (Stephen, David, Daniel, Peter, and Marnie). Dad also worked at BIW and drove a bus there carrying shipbuilders from around the countryside. Mom raised us kids, put food up and began her work in the community.

After the war, Norm and Lyd started a general store over on Hilton Road. They "carried" everything from cow grain and bread to rubber boots. Dad began a life in public service that included barbering,  marrying people, town meeting moderator, selectman, legislator and then as state senator for Lincoln County. He also was a Mason and one of the founding Lions. He belonged to the Grange (although seldom went). At Christmas, he put on his Santa suit and spread joy through the community. He and Mom along with Alden and Doris Boynton, resurrected the then dormant Union Church in the village. This was while he operated a small insurance company along with the growing farm and a International Harvester farm equipment business. Mom became a correspondent to the Kennebec Journal. These were busy times.

In the early 50's dad decided to provide opportunities for his growing boys by expanding the milk herd. He needed more pasture and hay land so he brought the “Ralph Douglas piece” - land that bordered his on the South and stretched from the OxBow on the Sheepscot all the way to Townhouse Road - to where the Townhouse now sits ( back then, there was an ancient hay barn there ). (see map at top of page).

Dad designed and added an large addition to the wooden barn . It was all concrete with a low metal roof supported by a multitude of trusses – new farm building techniques for the time . It seemed that teams of masons and cement contractors were at work all summer. An electric vacuum system was piped to each stall ( all 40) to power the new milking “machine” . There were automatic, nose activated watering bowls at each stall. There was a gutter behind the cows in each row where a continuous chain would carry the manure outside and up a ramp to the parked spreader. This was modern stuff !
There was a nice milkroom addition where we had a small 4 place milk bottling machine and deep stainless steel sinks where the returned milk bottles would be cleaned with a power brush mounted on a 1/3 hp motor. There was a chilled water tank where the racks of newly bottled warm milk was submerged to cool. There were 20 to 30 milking cows at different times

.....If all that wasn't enough – Dad installed a state of the art Buckeye hydroponic grass incubator. His idea was to increase milk production the dark dreary days of winter. He was also convinced that milk from contented cows was better milk ! It was advertized as: “Short-Order Pasture. A farm machine that uses the hydroponic method of growth (in a chemical solution without soil) was put on the market by Buckeye Corp., maker of chicken incubators. Housed in a 120-sq-ft aluminum building, it can match 15 to 25 acres of cattle pasturage by growing 45 tons of fresh grass a year at about $13 a ton. Lit by fluorescent lamps, it works night and day. Price: $2,880. “ It was heavily insulated, electrically heated and air conditioned. (- a cozy place in mid winter to gather with our friends to share a purloined cigar or cigarette in that hot humid haven as the winter wind howled outside. and the radio shouted rock n roll inside) In these times, hydroponics were virtually unheard of in our farming communities. Here is a news piece from out west describing our system . I don't have the words to properly describe the joy, animals have at the sight and smell of long, rich, succulent green grass in the middle of a bitter Maine winter ! It was a treat to feed !

During these times his General store over on Hilton road had evolved into a International Harvester farm equipment dealership. That also took much of his time. His brother Pug helped out as he had in the store.

About this time Dad became involved in putting together “blueberry crews” . These were a gang of up to 25 working age teens and young adults who he would transport (often in the back of his new 2 ton farm truck) to blueberry fields from Union and Hope on the east and Vienna on the west. And numerous fields around northern Lincoln county – many right here in Whitefield. A fast raker on a good, rock free field could make over $100 a day - in the fifties ! We would winnow the berries in the field and truck them to the “One-Pie” brand canning company over in Winslow's mills ( on rt 32 between Jefferson and Waldoboro).

It was in these times, with all the changes, that my brother Steve and I were smack in middle of our teens – We both went to Cony. There were few extra curricular activities available to us given the obligations at the farm. One day Steve would milk the cows and I would bottle the milk and run the “milk route” - from Jefferson to Chelsea and Gardiner – the next day we would swap chores -

However, our social lives were not crippled – Our 4H club was a favorite . Sometimes we delivered milk in an old blue dodge pickup crowded with our buddies – occasionally taking time , in the evenings, to “illuminate herds of deer”. Sometimes purposely careening off snowbanks  doing 360's on secluded Piper Lane. Other times we would deliver milk in the Jeepster convertible often with a pretty girl to assist.

There was a basketball hoop in the big barn – and we focused on feeding out the bales from that area first – and so the court would expand daily as the winter continued – There were many, many basketball games played in that old barn. Earlier on, we had pogo sticks – and with the sloping concrete walkways around the cows we would speedily jump around the course, much to the entertainment of the cows.

Come spring, there were outdoor games with the neighbors (marbles to baseball) – the trick was to “take your turn” in the game in time to race back to the barn to move the milker on to the next cow – This was a challenge I often failed .

 There were May Baskets too - They were BIG in this area - adults, kids - everyone hung them. At school it was almost a daily event  .
  When pasture time came about mid May, the cows were “let out ” .. On that first day they were literately crazed with joy– after a full half year chained to a stall - there was little wonder.
  Fencing was no-ones favorite chore, with the insects, mud and heavy tools – it was reduced to a quick visual check and some staples – we paid for that ! As the grass on the other side of the fence grew taller, the wire stretched to break by the leaning cows – We were constantly on edge, when the phone rang, that we were in for a bad time rounding up the wandering cows from neighbor's gardens and lawns - often crossing the river to visit their friends captive behind proper fences. Dad would sometimes use a bull for field breeding and that dude was accused more than once for starting a family with a neighboring herd. Soon AI (artificial insemination), seemed a very wise idea. On at least two occasions there would be a moose that would hang with our cows – often for days at a time. This would prove quite an attraction for the carloads of kids that parked along the road, gawking.

Dad always grew corn for silage or ensilage (the storing of fodder in a silo) for a winter feed supplement. There were a series of silos at Happy Farm wooden and metal. At least one collapsed. Many sported strings of Christmas tree lights around the top . There is an old shallow rocked up dug well next to the silo. When the open top silo was full - rainwater would drain down the 50 feet of ground corn, through the soil and into that well. There were those who claimed that by mid winter that water was 30 proof !

Haying is a pretty big part of dairy farming. A “hayrick” is a stack of hay outside built to shed some water. A “hayrack” is what we used to collect the loose hay that had been raked up. My earliest memory is Dad putting hay in loose. He would park the hayload under the dual doors in the peak of the barn. There was a protruding plank with an attached track from which hung a big “hayfork”. This was attached to a very long rope that was attached to a pulley system that allowed the fork to be lowered to the load where it was “speared “ into the hay and when triggered, two “dogs “ flipped out of the submerged fork grabbing the hay. Then a horse, tractor, truck or car ( all had been used at different times) would pull out on the rope, lifting the forkfull of hay until it hit the track, then it zipped into the barn's hayloft and was triggered by a hanging rope that dumped the hay, hopefully where you aimed. One of us would “tramp” it down before the next forkful arrived – a hot dusty job. But, it built mighty leg mussels as you can imagine sinking 2-3' into the hay with each “tramp”

   As my brother and I headed off to college, it was impossible for Dad to continue the milk route . Shipping bulk milk had become the practice for most dairy farmers, and Dad made the move. And he continued to supply raw milk by the jug to a few locals who were “brought up” on it.
   Mom would experiment with an English style B&B - several very interesting and dear people  boarded at Happy Farm. There were school teachers, doctors from Togus and many people visiting in town who needed a place. Maria Patfoort came from the Congo to Whitefield and spent years at Happy Farm becoming a dear family member.
   While he was in the State House, Dad was on the newly formed Atlantic Salmon Commission – he loved the Sheepscot and cherished it pristine nature. At one time Happy Farm had a mile frontage.

By the mid 60's he had retreated from politics and was working his way out of the farm equipment business. The farm became his sole income. He raised and thrashed dry beans. He grew sweet corn , and sold replacement heifers.
In 1976 the North Whitefield Volunteer Fire Dept ( which Dad had organized in the late 40's ) sponsored what was to be a series of 5 very popular Annual Bluegrass Festivals in the back fields of Happy Farm, near the river – the crowds were large and the music wonderful. Dad was in his glory – live music, young people having fun, dancing in his backfield !
In July 1981 , on his birthday, there was a devastating fire in the farmhouse while they were in Jefferson at the restaurant. It was near a total loss but with the help of the entire community the place was made comfortable with rebuilding. The spirit of Happy Farm survived.
No one is certain when Dad named the place, Happy Farm, but it was probably in the early mid 80's because a traveling photographer for the Boston Globe took this picture for the Sunday, October 30, 1988 issue under the byline “Don't worry” showing Mitch Cooper on a ladder painting the peak doors while Dad held the ladder. The Happy Farm lettering looks new, He was 76 that year.
As he neared his 80's, milking cows and the obligations tied with shipping milk forced Dad into selling the herd.

   Dad received recognition for his 25 years of service to the Lincoln County agricultural community in 1990 . By the 90's he had was slowing down and his separation from farming activities bothered him. His health deteriorated and in 1995, he died.
   In 2002, recognizing the importance of Happy Farm and its location on the Sheepscot - the SVCA, National Fish and Wildlife Foundation and Farms for Maine's Future purchased easements and guarantees that Happy Farm would forever be a farm, it was then sold to Dad's nephew Pat Chase and his wife Robin with life tenancy for Mom.
She continued living in her simple comfortable home for many more years before moving to live with Marnie in New Hampshire in April. 2012.

Today finds Eli and Anna Troyer living at that place still called Happy Farm. Their Amish ways serve that little piece of land well.
 

Happy Farm facebook page :
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