Pennsylvania Dairy Farmer Decides to Bottle His Own Milk Rather than Dump It. Sells Out in Hours.

At a 300-year-old, cream-line dairy farm, the spirit of America endures as the farmer tirelessly works to bottle his own milk, despite being told to discard it by his processor.

People are queuing up to give him support. Ben Brown started bottling his own milk after learning that his dairy processor was no longer able to purchase it.

Since the 1700s, Brown’s Whoa Nellie Dairy Farm has produced premium milk with a cream line. A dairy processor used to purchase most of it from him, pasteurizing and bottling it for distribution to nearby markets and restaurants. He still sells some of it at his on-site farm store.

He couldn’t stand it when he learned he would have to discard hundreds of gallons of milk every week until his 70 milking cows died. He therefore started working literally around the clock to bottle it and pasteurize it in small batches in his 30-gallon vat.

When he announced on Facebook that they would be opening the farm store for extra hours so that customers could purchase milk directly from the source, the response was tremendous. The local news reported that there was a line of at least twenty people deep to enter the store for several hours.

Related Posts

We went on vacation for a week. When we came back, we discovered this in the bathroom. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever seen something like this, and I honestly have absolutely no idea what it is. Does anyone know what this could be? Check the first comment for the answer 👇

A family returned home after a week away expecting a normal evening, but their excitement quickly turned to confusion. Attached to a bathroom wall was a strange…

My Dissertation Wasn’t the Only Thing Defended That Day

University security escorted Hunter and Barbara from the building while several professors encouraged me to report the assault. Within days I filed for divorce, and Barbara faced…

My Dissertation Wasn’t the Only Thing Defended That Day

A few people noticed my haircut when I arrived, but nobody mocked me. Instead, my advisor quietly wished me luck and reminded me that my work—not my…

My Dissertation Wasn’t the Only Thing Defended That Day

I locked myself inside the bathroom and stared at my reflection. My hair had been hacked into uneven patches, and my eyes were swollen from crying. For…

My Dissertation Wasn’t the Only Thing Defended That Day

he night before I defended my doctoral dissertation, my husband laughed while his mother stood behind me with a pair of scissors. For two days, Barbara had…

“They Thought They Could Kick Me Out—Until the $1M Trust Proved Who Really Owned the House”

Victoria always believed family loyalty meant accepting unfair treatment to keep the peace. For years, she convinced herself that questioning her parents would be a betrayal. But…