Welcome to my podcast, Therese Makes History.
This is the final recording for my series, The
Dairy Lane Project, Bomber Dairy to Berry. It's
going to bring a total of 20 episodes over two
seasons that I've brought to you over a 12 -month
period. I'm proud I've finally completed it,
let me just say that. It's been a lot of work,
but I've really loved engaging. Those people,
the salt of the earth, extraordinary dairy farmers
and founders of this community. Season two was
sponsored by Ian Zanstra. Ian's a dairyman and
an advocate from Piree, a key leader in the industry.
I would not have produced this season without
some support and Ian was completely committed.
to this historical initiative and he wanted to
see my work continue with digitally engaging
these great dairy farmers, even though he lives
over the other side of the river at Pirie. I
can't thank him enough. Today I am at episode
10. All right, so today I'm engaging John Miller.
John is a sixth generation dairy farmer. who
farms on Rawlings Lane Berry, which runs parallel
to the Princess Highway, just over the top there
of the bypass. Rawlings' name was created when
the bypass was built and 16 acres were taken
from John's farm called Broughton Mill. Rawlings,
we don't really know where the name has come
from historically. No one seems to know. It's
a new name. But I plan on writing to Shoalhaven
Council and finding out what the inspiration
of that name was. And I'll probably get to include
that in the publication. I'm going to plan a
major book publication probably next year. Let's
start with John Miller. to go through my family's
migration history, and I think even John's going
to be surprised by a couple of my findings. And
John, if I'm wrong, please ring me quickly. Anyway,
I think I'll be right. First generation to migrate
was a man by the name of Robert Miller, who was
born in 1795 in Scotland and migrated on the
ship Othello. Arriving in Sydney in August 1834
with his wife Elizabeth Muir. She was born in
1799. They had married in Paisley Middle Church,
Renfrew, Scotland in 1829. Now they arrived in
Australia with a number of children. Mary, William,
James, Elizabeth, Robert and John. And a further
three children were to follow who were born in
Australia, Anne, George and Sarah. Robert's occupation
on his migration papers was a dairy farmer. They
eventually found their way down to Geringong
in 1837. Now, their son, William, was born in
1823. in Paisley, Scotland. He was on the ship
with the other siblings and he married Jane Miller
in 1856 in Geringong. Jane was born in 1832.
They had nine children, eight boys and one girl.
Robert, John Ritchie, William H, Henry, James,
George, Jane, Thomas and William Hill. Two Williams,
I think one passed fairly early. William died
in 1907 at Renfrew Park, Gerringong. So they've
named the farm after their hometown. John Ritchie
was the second born son. In 1859, he married
Margaret Bailey in November 1880 at Geringong.
They purchased land at Robertson and they had
five children there. They ended up returning
to Geringong where they had another four children.
John died on the property at Renfrew Park in
1940. John Ritchie left a legacy of nine children.
Now John is John Miller's great -grandfather.
His son William was born in 1882 in Robertson
and he was their eldest child. William married
Winnie Chisholm. They produced John's father
Keith, Keith J. Chisholm Miller. was born in
1923. He married Nancy Morrison, who was born
in 1929. They had four children together, three
girls and one boy. Now this boy, the sixth generation
farmer, John Miller. So I have great pleasure
in presenting my final recording for this series.
I know you'll enjoy it. And I recorded the interview
with John just prior to the 2026 Berry Show.
All right, so I'm with John Miller today. John,
where were you born and what year were you born?
I was born at Nowra Hospital in 1964. Have you
got siblings? I've got three older sisters, Margaret,
Janet and Judith. Are they still in the area?
Yes, Margaret St Gerringong married Stephen Potty.
Judith lives up Woodhill. She married Max Ingall
and my sister Janet married John Bowden. And
what are your parents' full names and if you
know their year of birth and where? Yes, my dad
was Keith John Chisholm Miller and he was born
in 1923 in Nowra Hospital. My mother was Nancy
Morrison and she was born in Narra Hospital.
She was born in 1929. So we're sitting in this
lovely home on this property here. What is the
name of the property? Well, it's called Broughton
Mill. Broughton Mill was actually the home farm
down Wharf Road and we're sitting on George Miller's
farm. who was my grandfather's brother, and I
think he called it Devon Farm after Devon over
in England. Your father's uncle, was it? Yep,
that's right. Yes. He came here just after the
war, First World War. And this is his land? This
is his land. How much land are we talking about
here? There was 170 acres originally, but the
bypass has taken 16 of it. Did he buy that land?
Yeah, he brought a portion of it. There's a lot
of different titles to this farm. He brought
three quarters of it and my father and Uncle
Gus brought part of another farm which adjoins
it. And when Uncle George died in 1962, Dad and
Gus brought this portion of it off his estate
and joined it up with the neighbouring bit that
they had already brought with their mother. Which
is not uncommon, is it? No, pretty common. Today,
we'll just talk about today, you mentioned as
we were sitting down that you're growing 100
acres of corn here. Yep. Where is the feed stored
or where is it outsourced to? Yep, it's stored
down at Wharf Road where we milk. We have another
property on Wharf Road which my great -grandfather
purchased. 70 odd acres off the Berry Estate
and they sold out and we've gradually brought
neighbouring blocks and properties next to it
and we've got 350 odd acres down Wharf Road which
we milk on and this farm sort of acts as a support
farm for it now. We did milk on both properties.
Our front gate which used to be on the T Junction
of Albany and North Street is dead in line with
our back gate. down at the back of Albany Street,
down near the Masonic Village now. And we'd just
hunt the cows across every six weeks, milk here
for a few weeks, then move back down to the other
farm and back and forth, you know, every six
or eight weeks. And then we were able, in the
90s, we brought a portion of the government farm
and that gave us enough land just to set up base
down there and just use this as a support farm.
Since the bypass came through, they took a lot
of our high land. It's a standalone dairy now.
It'd be pretty hard to work on this farm because
it's very flood prone and there's not a lot of
high ground to keep the cattle out of the flood.
What about Wharf Road? How do you go down there?
You've got some high ground? It's very flood
prone too. We've got enough to keep them up out
of the floods. It's pretty tricky. They get cut
off. In 1972, Dad and Gus had 130 head wash away
out of milking 132 head and lost them all bar
two cows who were up at the yard trying to get
to their calf and they got them all back bar
about eight or ten. So they were scattered all
the way down to the Shelhaven River and down
the reaches of the Shelhaven and word got around,
the bush telegraph got around and Dad spent the
week picking up. A few cows here and a few cows
there in the truck, so we were very lucky to
get them back. It washed down Broughton Creek
first, did that? Yeah, down Broughton Creek,
yeah. We had a similar event two years ago, but
we were lucky. Normally a flood comes in the
middle of the night. You get up and you say,
whoa, there was a big flood last night, you know,
but it was just on daybreak when... when that
flood hit two years ago, and we had the cows
up in the yard milking them. Yeah, otherwise
they would have went that time too. It's a tricky
road, isn't it? Coolangatta Road's the main road
through. Yeah, Wolf Road down to the bridge,
and then it's Coolangatta Road, yeah. So how
much land did they have there originally? 70
acres, and then they got 30 over the road for
the Oldbury race course. The railway was extended
to accommodate the horses. You might notice it's
a pretty long platform when they came down to
race. They'd have special cars, wouldn't they?
Yeah, yeah. Little bits and pieces brought Kellert's
Farm next to them and little house blocks that
were down Wharf Road. You can't build on them
now, but originally in the Bury time, people
could have a house cow and keep it down there.
So they brought up these little paddocks as they
came up for sale and formed part of the farm.
I suppose they thought that one day people would
build on them. There's two houses there where
people did. So when you're saying back then that
you used to bring the cows over here every six
to eight weeks when you had that land, is that
for the growth? Yeah, yeah. And if we had a flood
down there and there'd be a lot of mud and we'd
pack up camp and move over here to get out of
the mud and then, you know, move back. Yeah,
but mainly chasing feed, chasing grass. So this
is the support farm. You call that because you're
growing feed here. Yep, yep, that's right, yeah.
We're growing feed here and transporting it back
down to Wolf Road. The silage, how's it stored?
Or do you cut it fresh? Cut it fresh, yeah. You
do? Yeah, it'll grow once it's in cob. That's
great. Yeah, it's really the grain that we're
after, the energy and the starch and the protein
in that grain. But obviously the stalk and the
leaf, it adds bulk as well. We cut it, a contractor
comes in, harvests it, carts it down there in
trucks. It's rolled in a pit or a bun on top
of the ground, stored for winter. Was there any
time when you dug pits? Yeah, before my time,
yeah. There were pits in the side of hills and,
yeah, in the ground. Yeah, with the machinery
nowadays, it's... more convenient to put it on
top of the ground. It would have been tricky
on the side of the hills with compressing air
out with the... Yeah, well, they dug, like, slots
into the hill. Like, they had solid shale walls
as bank that they can use to support the feed
from falling over out or falling, you know, loosely
away. Where was that? Where? Yeah. We've got
property up at Broughton Vale, which belonged
to... my grandmother's grandfather and mother
and there's remnants of evidence of silage pits
cut into hills there and very small because it
was all horse and carton or slides and you know
all done by hand and they milked 20 cows and
so it wasn't a 150 years ago you could milk 20
cows and rear 10 kids and afford to do it but
now you've got to milk 300 cows and juggle at
the end of the month to pay the bills and so
it's all dynamics the economics have just changed
you know astronomically and my dad was the third
of five boys my grandparents first child lived
for three days and his name was ewan and then
ronald was still born and then Dad came along
in 1923. Then Gussie came along in 1925. And
then Paddy in about 1932, I think. Did Paddy
marry? He married, yeah. Because I know Gus was
a... He was a bachelor. I was going to say spinster.
And where did he live? He lived with his mother.
He looked after his mother in the house down
at Wharf Road. Is that that white house that's
no one there's there? Yeah, that white house.
right at the driveway into the dairy. Dad and
I lived in a little house down, further down
on the right on the farm. Lots of little blocks
that were town blocks and house paddocks that
had been brought up over the years. Dad brought
a house that was separate to the farms and did
it up with Mum and, yeah, we lived there. So
is that where you grew up? That's where I grew
up, yeah, down Wolf Road, yep. When did you leave
Wharf Road? Got married in 1988 and we brought
a little house. We brought George Skinner's house
on the showground for $2 ,000 and we transported
it over here and we dropped it in the paddock
here. And Dad and my brother -in -law, Steve
Potty, built a veranda around it and made it
liveable for Jennifer and I. a couple of extensions
as we could afford it, and yeah, raised our family
here over on the northern side. This is it here.
That little bit up, three little rooms. When
did you live in all of the house? In the late
90s, we did a bit of an extent, built this room
on. It's beautiful. So you can build? I'm not
a builder, no. No, my brother -in -law and dad
was pretty handy. They just had me passing stuff.
So Wharf Road, of course, that was where the
training school used to be, was it? You bought
some... We brought a part of our, yeah, training
farm. Do you remember anything about the farm?
Yeah, yeah. All the boys walking up the town
and... How old were they? Actually met one when
Gus was in hospital in the bed next to him. Yeah,
great bloke. Really lovely man. So it really
made a lot of the boys. Like, I've met a lot
of them. In post, you know... Over the years.
Over the years, yeah, and they'd gone on to make
great careers. And so they worked on the farm
and the dairy and making hay and, you know, all
that sort of stuff. I went to boarding school
myself and it's not like home. Put it like that.
So I could imagine they were, you know, it was
probably... I could imagine that they may not
have enjoyed it, you know. I don't know. It'd
be a lot of... A lot of discipline and, you know,
whatnot. So I meant to ask you about your schooling.
So where did you go to primary school? Up here
at Berry, yeah. And who were some of your mates
at primary, dear? Yeah, I had a few mates, yeah.
We all played footy together, rugby league together
here and cricket. Yeah, all farm boys mainly.
Berry was different to what it is today. It was,
if you weren't off a farm, you... your mother
or father was, and they married into a business
and everyone had a connection to a farm somehow,
you know, and there was a big dairy community
and we were all just farm kids. But your parents
decided to send you to boarding school. They
wanted you to have a good education. Yeah, well,
when I was in... My sisters went to Skeggs up
in Wollongong, boarded up there. Didn't really
know I was heading to boarding school until later
in year six, I suppose it was. Mum said, we think
it's not a bad idea if we take you to boarding
school. I said, oh, yeah, righto, OK. It wasn't
real fuss, but that's what my parents wanted,
so that's what I was happy to do. But Mum knew
at that stage that she had terminal bowel cancer.
And that's probably the reason why I was heading
off to boarding school out of Bathurst. Never
saw the place. First time I ever saw it was when
they dropped me off there in February. And what
was the school? Scots, yeah. Scots College? Scots
School, yeah. School. Yeah, it's a branch of
Scots College. How old were you then? Twelve.
Going into first form? Yeah, going into first
form. Three months after that mum passed away.
A little bit rough, but met great mates that,
you know, supported me. Not that I didn't tell
anyone or anything, you know. Yeah, you didn't
in those days, did you? No, no, you just kept
things to yourself. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Things
like that do develop you and, you know, make
you who you are, I suppose. Did your father marry
again? No, no, no. Okay, that's terribly sad.
Where was she buried? Where is she buried? Up
here at Berry, yeah. Berry Cemetery, yeah. She
was 48. Ah, that's young. Yeah, only a girl.
Yeah. Yeah. You went to boarding school. Is that
when you're, I know that you have played sort
of a high level of sport. Is that when you started
to sort of play rugby? Yeah. So we'll talk briefly
about that. Tell me how that, what was the colour
of the jersey and that sort of stuff? Played
in black. We were all black, black jersey, black.
The first 15 had gold. The school colours were
blue, black and gold. And the first 15 had a
jersey with a gold collar and they got to have
a line on their chest, which was the school emblem,
a line. I left school at the end of year 11,
well, at the end of year 10, but I went back
to Bathurst and did a tech course and I bought
it at the school. entitled me to be able to play
sport for the school. So I got into the first
15, which was a goal from when I was in Year
7. Everyone just wanted to play in that first
15 jumper. Congratulations. But it didn't stop
there, did it? I was lucky enough to come home
and Bruce Bishop from out of Coolingatter knocked
on the door and said, I'm going down to rugby
training. Do you want to jump in and come and...
meet some of the fellas, and I was just going
to come and play rugby league at Bury again.
I didn't really know they had a rugby club down
at Naira, so I jumped in with him and found a
new family and brotherhood, I suppose you'd say.
You do. Rugby's a team. It's not about you. It's
about the team, and it's one of the first things
I was ever taught about rugby. It's not about
you. It's about what you can do for the team.
And you soon realise that without your mates
supporting you and you supporting your mates,
the lessons that I've learned on that rugby field
I've carried with me through life and applied
those principles and values to life and it's
helped me through a lot of things. Because when
you think of, well, the spiritual practice that
you practice or religion or whatever, it's similar
themes, isn't it, in a way? Yeah, yeah. What
you can do for others or you need, you know,
part of a community. Yeah, exactly, yeah. Yeah,
life's a funny thing. You might help someone
and you might never see them again, but someone
else helps you out and what goes around comes
around. How far did you go in your career and
at what age did you retire? I was lucky enough
to get picked in the New South Wales under -18
side and then the New South Wales under -21 side.
I played in the open country side for 10 years
on and off. I'd get picked and I'd get dropped
and I'd get picked and I'd get dropped and very
challenging. We used to play against touring
international sides and in the country it was
really good. Played for Shelavon for, I was in
my 40s when I finished up. The boys were playing
up at school in Sydney and so it was time to
watch them and make careers out of it. William
did very well and George has done very well.
So you're mentioning your children. Yep. Why
don't we just, while we're there, tell me their
names. I've got Caroline, she's my oldest girl,
then William. two years after Caroline, then
Madeline, two years after William, and then George,
two years after Madeline. And they've all got
their little family started now, so that's great
to see. There's a few dairy farmers there amongst
them. How many wanted to... Three. Three of the
four want to milk cows. And who are they? Madeline,
William and George. So how do you solve that?
Yeah, it's a bit of a puzzle. So William's gone
off and he's renting his own farm down O 'Keefe
Lane off Paul Thames. Leasing it. Leasing it,
brought the herd and leasing it. The first step
in... How much land does he have there to lease?
I think there's... I'm not sure, to tell you
the truth. I think there's about 280, 300 acres.
So that's really nice because... The Allsizer
family used to own that farm and they were close
to my grandfather and Frank and Bill Allsizer
were mates with Dad and Gus. Yeah, so it's really
nice that he's out there on that farm, sentimentally.
Did you ever meet them yourself? Yeah, I knew
Frank. Yeah, Frank and Vera. They were pretty
elderly when I knew them, but still driving.
playing in the band, and they all, their social
life revolved around the band, the Berry Silver
Band, and Gus and Dad played in it for years,
and Gussie in particular played for 75, towards
80 years in the band, and started off on the
baritone, which is a horn, and then went to the
euphonium, which is a bit bigger, and the double
bass is bigger again. And your father, what did
he play? He played a cornet. Were they self -taught?
No, no, they learned as kids. Wessie Moore and
Harvey Hitchcock taught them how to play and
their father used to play the drums in the band
and he was the president for a fair while and
of course the kids would have to play if you
were president. What's Tim's doing in the interim?
He's retired. So there's a dairy there? There's
a dairy there, yeah. What type of dairy is there?
It's a herringbone, yeah, herringbone dairy.
It was a functioning farm. Paul Tim's milked
there for many years, just got to that stage
in life, a time to step back. George and Madeline
are with me on this farm. We've got our challenges
ahead of us, getting them all set up on farms.
How big's the dairy where you are at Wharf Road?
It's a 20 -a -side herringbone. It's fairly big.
We can increase the herd if we want to. We've
got capacity to increase it, the number we're
milking. What are you milking? What cows? They're
Holstein Friesians. When my father was going
out with my mother, she came off a... Well, her
parents were... Business people, the butchers
in it now are the Morrisons. There's an arcade,
my uncle built an arcade there. He kept the butcher
shop open until its 100th year and then built
that arcade and retired. Her mother came off
a dairy at Pirie and Mum was always down at the
farm. He got Dad started in Holsteins. He and
a fella called Vijay Lemon, the Jindy Andy Lane,
were... One of the first... They brought... When
the government farm imported the first Holsteins,
they only lasted a few years and then went back
to Illawarra's and sold them all out and Vijay
and Uncle Alan brought most of the cows and calves
and he got Dad started in the 40s with a few
calves. Every time Dad went down, he'd put one
in the chaff bag and put it in the back seat
and Dad would bring it home. rear it and yeah,
we got started then in Holstones. What were the
original cows? Illawarra's. Milking? Yeah, Illawarra's.
My grandfather, dad's father was a, I never knew
him. What was his full name? William, just William.
William. Yeah, William Miller. Yeah, his father
was a big wheel in the Illawarra's, went everywhere
judging. He was a fellow called John Miller at
Gerringong and he actually brought the land off
the berries. The Millers, they settled in Gerringong
in the 1830s, early 1830s. So they migrated from
where? Scotland, Paisley in Scotland. And they
arrived in Gerringong? Yeah, well, they spent
six months in Sydney. Mrs Miller didn't like
city life and wanted to get out of Sydney, so
they ended up in Gerringong. Brought a paddock
at Gerongong. Came here from Scotland with a
sack on their back. Brought a paddock at Gerongong.
We've never looked back. Thank you, John. They
sort of ran out of land there. My grandfather
was actually born in Robinson with a number of
his brothers because there was just no land,
no farms in Gerongong. So you say he's brothers,
so George is one of them? George, he had eight
brothers and a sister. My great -grandfather
moved to Robinson. Farmed up there. When the
brewery estate opened up, he came back and brought
a farm in Gerringong. So he was a tenant farmer
up at Robertson? I think he might have owned
a farm and he had a creamery. He opened a creamery
and a butter factory. I think it was Honey Bee
Butter or Beehive Butter Factory, I think it
was. But when farmers brought their own separators,
my dad always said he went broke because... Everyone's
making their own... Yeah, making their own cream
to take to... But he probably wound it up before
he went broke. He moved back to Gerringong. Yeah,
so how did he get to Gerringong, do you know?
Yeah, he brought the herd back in two stages.
I think it was Belmore Falls the first night.
They camped there, they woke up, no cows. They'd
all bolted back to Robinson. So they had to go
back to Robinson and start again. So they went
to... Gerringong in the one. Then they didn't
bother camping overnight. There was John, John
Miller, my great -grandfather, and there was
all his sons. They were pretty well all born
up there except for Hedley. He was the only boy
born at Gerringong. Grandfather and Uncle George,
when they got old enough, they rented a... a
farm under the water tower there at Mount Pleasant
on the mountainside there at Jerringon, overlooking
the sea, just up from the original Miller farm.
It was as steep as anything. My Uncle Hedley
used to tell a story that his mother would cook
a leg of lamb every Sunday for him to take up
to him, and they lived in this humpy with a...
chaff bag as a window, and outside the window
was all these baked bean tins. So they'd open
a tin of baked beans, throw it out the window.
By the end of it, you couldn't see the window.
There was that many baked bean tins, like a pyramid.
Typical bachelors. They were going to go to the
war together. But my grandfather didn't get enlisted
because he had a broken leg and had a bit of
a limp. But Uncle George went off with his brother
Harry over to Palestine in the Middle East. They
brought their cows down here thinking the great
-grandfather brought the farm off the dairy estate,
but he rented it out to tenant farmers. There
was a sort of a change. the people who were leasing
the place for leaving, so they thought they'll
bring their cows down, dry them off. The first
war was only going to go for two months. They'll
be back in time when they calve and start milking
again down here, but it didn't quite work out
that way and my grandfather stayed here and milked.
Uncle George went off when he came back. He brought
this place here. A funny little story about...
My grandfather and his brothers were with their
father at Kiama Wharf one day, putting loading
butter to send up to Sydney. There was this 19,
20 -year -old wandering around the wharf from
England. They got talking to him and he'd come
out. You know how kids have gap years nowadays?
Well, they had them back then too, in the early
1900s. And this fella had come out from England
to have a look at Australia. He was only 19 or
something and knew no one, and he got talking
to our lot, and they took him home and looked
after him and gave him a bit of work and whatnot,
and he stayed there for quite a while and then
went back to England. And anyway, Uncle George
and Harry and Jack Campbell, their brother -in
-law, and Stan Miller, they were all in the light
horse, and all the Aussies were giving their
horses a drink in the Euphrates. Poms were on
the other side and they were watering their horses.
This fellow yells out, you're from Australia,
boys? Yes. Anyone from New South Wales? Yes.
Anyone from Gerringong? Yes. And any Millers
there? Yes. So he got across to them and it was
this Gerald Ainslie. He was general or something
in the English Army. After the war, he... took
George and Harry and Jack Hamill back to England,
looked after them for 12 months. They had a 12
-month holiday there on him. And he was a...
His people made pottery, Ainslie pottery. Every
year he'd come out for a holiday here. Uncle
George called this place Devon Farm after Devon,
where he had an estate. Yeah, every year he brought
horses out. Yeah, I've got some photos there
of him. He played up a bit. He brought his girlfriend
out, which was a bit of a no -no and caused a
bit of a ruckus. Well, they were congregationalists
up in Daringong, so they weren't too happy with
him, but he stayed in Tadner's pub down here
where the Great Southern is now. How long did
that go on for, the friendship life? Until they,
yeah, until Uncle George died in 62. So, yeah,
I'm not sure when Gerald died. It's a great story.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's a small world. Think about
even the showground attending the shows. They
would have been very involved. Reflect on that
a bit. My great -grandfather, John, he loved
shows, from what I'm told. Like, he died back
in the early 1930s, but loved shows. He had a
cow called Belle, an old Illawarra cow. I've
got a photo of her somewhere. meant to be unstoppable,
you know, but she looks an ordinary cow compared
to cattle today, you know. Cattle have just improved
and improved in genetics over the years. But,
yeah, he loves showing and he'd take six weeks
off and go to Taree Show to judge and, you know,
all that sort of stuff, go by steamer and horse
and cart and, you know. I've been told he was
an original foundation. Member of Berry Show?
Committee member? I'd love to find out. What's
his name again? John. John Ritchie. So what era
are we talking about when you say... It would
have been before he went to Robinson, in the
1880s. Did he breed? Yeah, yeah. And showed?
Yep, yep. Loved the shows. Where was he based
here? He was up at a farm called Whingy Wall.
It's opposite the golf course up in Gerringong.
right on the edge of the Berry Estate. Did he
marry? Yeah, yeah, he had a lot of kids, yeah.
He had eight boys and a girl. Oh, that's right,
so that's the story you're telling me. Yeah,
yeah. I always used to write Dad and Gus and
Paddy a letter at Christmas time with a... penny
in it or something and just say you know whatever
you do just at the end of it remember your name's
everything and a lot of people have done you
know worked hard for the miller name and you
know whatever you do don't you know take it for
granted that what was he involved actively in
any co -ops or anything jeringon co -op yes yeah
yeah he was um he chairman up there for a while
and on the board for 30 odd years and his son
jack Well, he was John, but they called him Jack,
J -R -M, John Ritchie McKellar Miller. Jack farmed
at Tula Dew. He was chairman of dairy farmers
at one stage. We're in the 20th century, isn't
it? Yeah, 1930s, I suppose, yeah. Most co -ops
were, I think, yeah, Gerongong, Berry, Jamboree.
They all had a representative who was a director.
Pianero did, yeah. Did your father? Yeah, Dad
was the Director of Dairy Farmers. He was on
the board here at Berry for 40 -odd years. Director
of Dairy Farmers for, I don't know, 10 or so.
Yeah. I was on the board of Berry. Still am.
We've still got officially a co -op, even though
we're pretty well wound up now. Yeah, Berry Royal
Co -op, yeah. First co -op in Berry was Broughton
Creek Co -op and it was out opposite Stewie Blow's
farm. Yeah. If you go past the bowling club over
the bridge and you take that sweeping bend to
the left, that's where it was, the little co
-op was up on that hill there, Broughton Creek.
I've got some articles there on when they were
first going to form it and David Berry donated
a paddock for them to build a factory on and
then in 1911 John Hayes set up the creamery here
when the railway came through. In 1885 and in
1911, farmers brought it out and it became Berry
Royal Co -op. So it does go back in sort of different
stages, but we do go right here. I think Norco
claim fame as being the oldest one, but they
were actually a pig co -op before a dairy co
-op. Oh, well, that doesn't count. No, but they
sort of, you know, fudge in the books a bit,
I suppose. Yeah, so we're pretty proud of it.
our association with the Berry Co -op and we
worked damn hard to try and make it work. When
you say you've had your ups and downs, let's
start with the positive, the ups, the influences.
The ups was the social fabric that the Co -op
provided for a lot of people. I mean, when I
was a kid, I can just remember taking cans of
milk and all the farmers, it was such a social...
gathering you know every morning they'd be laughing
and chatter and you know jokes and when times
were tough you know they'd be talking to one
another and how are we going to get through this
how did it look so that you're delivering your
milk yeah yeah backing trucks backing that way
yeah yeah and people you know pulling off to
one side and groups talking and then when that
went out when how many farms are we talking about
back then like Well, originally, back in the
40s and 50s, I think there was about 150 farms.
When bulk milk came in, a lot of the farms up
around the hills gave up because they couldn't
get trucks up. Dairies had to be modified to
put in big tanks and people just couldn't afford
to... Vats. The expense of vats and, you know,
the expense of modifying dairies. So anything
up high really went, didn't it, across the landscape?
Yeah, yeah. Which would have impacted a lot of
farmers. Yeah, a lot of farms. Yeah, yeah. We
lost a lot. I think I have got the figures there
somewhere in information. There's been stages
of impacts all the way through, like when...
Automotion came in. There used to be contractors,
a gang of men that used to brush the sides of
hills with brush hooks and scythes and plough
with horses. When tractors came in, well, you
couldn't get tractors on those steep hills, so
they were the first to go out, you know. And
then bulk milk was another big hit. And then
deregulation in 2000 was a huge hit. Broadly,
we went from... a set price and that price would
get reviewed every year and normally it went
up with CPI to what they said would be like market
for supply and demand. Your price would be governed
on that. Yeah, really it wasn't. It just handed
the supermarkets so much buying power. They really
forced the price. Not a real great surplus of
milk. So you would have thought that if it was
supply and demand, then you'd be assured of a
fair price. But our price went in deregulation
from 47 cents a litre in 2000 down to 24, like
overnight. And it took 20 years to... get it
back to a sustainable price. Even now, like our
power's gone in the last few years from $1 ,800
a month to nearly $7 ,000 at the dairy. And you've
got to absorb that in your milk price, and it's
very, very hard. You know, we just need great
seasons to get a... to really water those costs
down. The same money changed hands. It just went
into different pockets. That's the hard bit,
the swallow, you know. It's the supermarkets.
They put pressure on processes. Who's your buyer?
A company called Saputo. Norco's really the only
true Australian. Bega probably are too. I don't
know who owns their shares near Bega. They're
a public company too. Norco's probably the only
true Australian dairy company in New South Wales
anyway. Are their foundations north? Yeah, yeah,
Lismore up the north coast there. They're all
multinational giants. We supply Saputo, which
is a Canadian company. And they basically just...
They've got brands like Devondale and they basically
just broke our milk off to cheese, little independent
cheese factories or yoghurt factories or whoever
they can sell it to for the best price. I don't
know where our milk goes, to tell you the honest
truth. That's the way it operates as of today.
Yeah, yeah. So when they deregulated back in
2000, like, we were all going... Bananas. Yeah,
very quickly. Really, the smart ones, business
-wise, got out. We all took on a lot of debt
just trying to stay in. Things will get better.
Everyone's getting out. There'll be that short
of milk, blah, blah, blah, you know. It really
took 20 years before the supermarkets and the
processors come to the realisation, where's all
the milk gone, you know? Queensland haven't been
able to supply their own enough milk for themselves
for years. The North Coast milk's been going
up there to sustain them. You know, our milk
goes here, there and everywhere. but now it's
at the point that they're short of milk, burnt
their own fingers in a way. But Dairy Australia,
we pay a levy through our milk, and Dairy Australia
mainly, yeah, do that sort of stuff. It's all
in commercial hands, not so much government hands,
with hence deregulation. Is that really what
that means? When you deregulate, you let go?
Yeah, yeah. The government lets go? Yeah, yeah,
yeah. See, they brought quotas in after the Second
World War because... They were worried about
food production, the shortages of food and, you
know, all that sort of stuff. So they brought
quotas in to make sure they had X amount of milk
to supply to the city. Safeguard that they'd
have enough milk. By wiping that, then you're
at the whim of... The market. Market forces.
And if you're not making money, what's the point?
You know, it's just... I had... Kids that were
keen to come on, so I hung on for grim debt because
I thought by the time they come through, then
it should be a future. I've just got to hang
on. But you take on a lot of debt hanging on.
Well, look at land prices. You need land to grow,
don't you? And it's such a false economy because,
like, if we buy the farm next door, we're not
competing with another farmer who's done his
figures on producing a million litres to pay
a year to pay, you know. bank loan you're competing
against the ceo from a multinational company
come somewhere that comes down with a pocket
full of millions and millions of dollars and
he's just happy to build a mansion and overlook
a you know pond yeah yeah that's right and have
a million dollar garden yeah and you wouldn't
pay the interest for milk So how many cows are
you milking? About 210. Let's just look at some
of the other dairy operations here. Who's operating?
McIntosh is operating? Yep, McIntosh. Peter Cullen
out at Harley Hill. William's out at Coast Lane.
We've got Jarrett's out the back of Coolangatta.
They were part of our co -op. There is one more
farmer, Paul Leighton's son, out at Bolong there.
Just getting back to deregulation. Yes. We were
all going broke. Paul Timms had the idea of maybe
making cheese. Diversifying. Yeah, yeah. And
Gussie said to me, there was a fella up at Picton
started a little dairy bottling, bottling his
milk. And Gussie said, why don't you go up there
and talk to that fella? So a group of us from
the co -op went up. He took us on on a pilot
scheme, bottle a bit of milk, see how it goes,
you know. It took off, South Coast Dairy. Yeah,
and it grew to a point we could get our own plant
in. You know, we had our ups and downs and a
very steep learning curve all the way through.
But, yeah, eventually we went down in COVID.
16 years we had it going for. Where is that today?
We sold the brand to a Sydney consortium. They
were going to use our milk and do all sorts of
stuff, you know, keep it the same, but it never
happened. We gave it a go, fought tooth and nail
to make it work. A lot of blood, sweat and tears
went into it. During COVID, we just couldn't
sustain it. So what keeps you there today? At
the co -op? No, on the land. I couldn't imagine
anything else. I gave a talk once. They said,
when did you first want to become a dairy farmer?
I said, well, when I was in my mother's womb,
I suppose. It might have been before that. It
might have been when I was a twinkle in Dad's
eye, you know. Like, I just never wanted to do
anything else. Just loved tagging along with
Dad and Gus and working with them as a kid and
then on the horses doing stock work or milking
or listening to all the stories up at the co
-op and, you know, it was just... The people
that were in it were the people I wanted to be
around. Who were some of those men you remember,
the families that aren't around today? Oh, look,
there was Jack Ward. He was like a legend in
the dairy industry and such a knowledgeable,
confident, well -spoken man. Cole Bowley, Stuart
Blow. Jimmy Bryce, any one of them. They were
just, yeah, sort of people that you just had
so much hard work and soul to the earth. You
just had so much respect for them and families
and, yeah. Good people. Great people. Unbelievable
people. Great mentors. Yeah. If anyone was in
trouble, they'd be organising something. Some
of his hay shed burnt down, they'd be organising.
made from everyone else. Blew down the bloody
house or something? Yeah, yeah, yeah. All the
flooding and fires. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's
it. Yeah, yeah, yeah, exactly. Yeah, it's such
a great community. You earn to be a part of.
Yeah, it's touching for you, obviously. It's
part of you. It's who you are. What did you train
in when you went down to Bathurst and you said
you did a tech course? What was that? Mainly
for Western. people like a fair bit of agronomy
and you know stuff like that you know machinery
stuff and you know but it was they were all cheap
boys but i was just wanting to play rugby yeah
to be honest with you oh you didn't study you're
telling me now are you you didn't really attend
to your studies i did all right i held my you've
always got a good sign good sign yeah yeah Fair
enough. I didn't waste your money, Dad. I'm boarding
school plans in that last year. So some of the
agronomists, what did you know much about Graham
Park? Did you use their facilities? Yeah, yeah.
And who were some people you remember from Graham
Park there? Yeah, look. What did you think of
that place? It was down your way initially, wasn't
it? Yeah, that's right. That was the original.
That place we brought off the government, that
was the original AI centre in Australia. This
is Wolf Road we're talking about? Yeah, yeah,
yeah. It was the first AI centre in Australia.
That was before my time. That's right. Yep. Before
my time, it was a model farm. There were horse
stables. My grandmother and an assistant niner
and Jean, they milked there. The chisholms up
in Bundiwala, like... Everyone was pretty poor
and as soon as, like the girls, as soon as they
were four, they were in the dairy milking and
the boys were in the fields picking up stones
and helping sticks and, you know, ploughing and,
you know, that sort of thing. Clearing the land.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. My grandmother went and milked
down there. So she was a chisholm? She was a
chisholm and they boarded in the house. When
my grandfather moved down from Jurongong, they
were boarding in the house. those three girls.
So he got to know them and ended up marrying
one of them, Winnie Chisholm. My grandfather,
her father, worked down there also. He got killed
in an accident there. There was a burning stable
and they were getting horses out and a rafter
or something fell and a burning rail hit him
and he survived another week but ended up dying
of the injuries. It was like a model farm. like
bull sheds, horse stables. Was that for tourists
or for other farms? Experimental. Experimental.
Yeah, it was like a... The Berries set it up.
See, they were so entrepreneurial, introducing
new cattle years ahead of their time. We've got
no leaders today like what they were, in a class
of their own. Like, they set up this farm for
the benefit of the rest of the farming community,
trying to grow new species of grass, trying to...
Educating. Educating. Like, importing cattle.
They had all sorts of breeds of cattle there.
Horses, you know. All sorts of stuff like that.
And you said grasses. Yep, sort of native grasses
trying to improve. Paspalum or something. Yeah,
yeah, yeah. If they could improve the farmer's
efficiency, they'd get more milk. They were buying
the milk. They had all these factories everywhere.
They wanted more milk, you know. They were exporting
butter back to England. They had the American
consulate for trade out. article there of a big
dinner they had with all the farmers and this
american and all the politicians and he was keen
to get on board with them and export stuff out
and back to america he said you know we can produce
all we want in america but not in winter Our
winter's your summer. They were just really entrepreneurial,
the Illawarra Shorthorns. Like, I know that families
like the Perichers came down to get the Illawarra
Shorthorns from Kangaroo Valley. Yeah, yeah.
Because that's the way they were doing it on
the fringes. Yep. The first co -ops were set
up, you know, at Kiama. Yeah, but the berries
had a lot to do with that. It moved to Graham
Park. Yep. The McIntosh family had a lot to do
with that. Now, his father, what was his name?
His father was Bruce, but his father was Fred.
Fred was the one. Fred was the one, yeah. He
did a lot of great stuff for the local dairy
industry in New South Wales. So he was a leader.
He was another Berry. He was a leader, yeah.
Did they come from here? They came from Cobbety
in Camden. Yes, it's interesting, isn't it? Because
they would have seen a lot at Camden Park and
be influenced by what was happening there perhaps.
Yeah, perhaps, yeah, yeah, quite likely. Because
I know Camden Park were influenced by Berry as
well. Okay, yeah. Well, you were all at one point
under the same parish or whatever it was called.
Yeah, right, yeah, yeah. He brought attention
to the area. Yep, yep. He was... He must have
had influence in government. Yeah, he was...
He did, yeah. He was the chairman or president
of the Very Better Farmers League and he had
the ear of politicians. A fellow called, I think
it was Bob Graham, who was the Minister for Agriculture
at the time. He convinced him that... The state
needed an artificial, like we had it down at
Wharf Road, which by then was probably underutilised
compared to what the state needed, a much bigger
facility. So he got up there and canvassed the
Minister for Agriculture. That's why it's called
Graham Park after, I think it was Bob Graham.
Fred McIntosh got that place up and going. Agriculture,
the department, was very active in its time.
I just know they were at Camden Park as well.
They had those big field days. Did you have that
sort of thing here? You probably did. They probably
got it from you. But they had a lot of great
men working in agriculture that were really,
like government, really committed to the work.
Did you find that yourself? Yeah, yeah. I was
sort of on the tail end of all that. Yeah, that's
right. Back in the day they had funding, you
know, like food production was a big deal. But
now it's going to turn up from somewhere, isn't
it? End up in the supermarket shelf, you know,
from somewhere, won't it? We've never starved
out here, so we take it for granted it's just
going to turn up. But the Europeans and the Poms...
They've all starved to death. You know how important
food production and water security is, you know,
and they protect their farmers. I'm not saying
it should be subsidised or whatnot. People produce
in primary industries are taken for granted that,
yeah, they'll produce it for nothing. It's all
right, though. Well, they're having big problems
in Queensland at the moment, aren't they? where
they're losing a lot of stock. The other worrying
part that I think too is that a lot of farms
are just getting swallowed up by huge corporate
superannuation funds and family farms are just
going out left, right and centre. I've got friends
that I went to school with and tell me there's
one kid on the school bus now out at parks. It's
just all fly -in, fly -out workers. Truck them
in, truck them out. Sad for communities. There's
no community approach. No, and they're going
through the same thing as us. If they want to
buy the next door farm, they're up against a
superannuation fund from Canada or wherever.
Just can't compete. We're changing the topic.
The Berry Showground and your family's role in
that and your recent... Mentioned before, my
great -grandfather was a committee member. His
sons were committee members and presidents. My
father was a committee member for well over 50
years and president and he... exhibited there
and part of our you know like we get up and go
to milk and that and being part of the show is
just as much part of us as what we do on the
farm but it's just a little side tentacle it's
just part of us and the kids are all involved
now they're on the committee and the grandkids
they're only little fellas but they're all members
junior members i think it's just such an important
part of the fabric of the community too keep
that tradition going and keep the competitions
for whatever farmers are left, but also for townsfolk.
Everyone can get involved. It's just not a farmer
thing, it's a community thing. So the show's
coming up. What are you doing? I know you've
just come off as president. I'm meant to be in
the ring this year, in the main ring. They've
given me a title, but I'm not sure. I've never
been in the ring before. I've always been a steward
in the cattle, so I'm not on a bit of a steep
learning curve there. You're very well known,
of course. You have to be. I think I've... Except
for your outfits. I think I've piggybacked on
the shirt tails of my parents and those that
have gone before me. I just want to bring something
up. You're known for riding horseback without
a saddle and shorts on. In the nude. Oh, shorts.
You ride downtown with shorts and a shirt on
when you were younger. Oh, yeah, yeah, could
have. You've always been quite, but you're your
own person. Yeah, yeah. Well, I think that's
important for everyone to be their own people,
not try and be someone that you're not or somebody
else wants you to be. It's important. I think
that's when you look yourself in the mirror,
you're honest with yourself. Tell me a bit about
your wife. What's her full name? Jennifer Ruth.
She was a cult art. Miller. What's her contribution
to you? If she wasn't here, I don't know how
I'd survive, put it like that. I don't know how
I'd make it through tomorrow. She contributes
that much to the family. She's a superwoman.
How's that? She sounds strong. Yeah, she's very
strong, yeah. But very soft. Yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah. You've got to be a bit of both, haven't
you? Yeah. She's got so much talent. I can show
you all the sewing and embroidery and, you know,
anything she does, she excels at. But she hasn't
got the self -awareness of that, if you know
what I mean. The esteem. Yeah. She doesn't value
herself enough. Yeah, yeah, yeah. How long have
you been married? Since Haiti. Wait till she
starts valuing herself. She'll really come alive
then, won't she? I know, yeah. It's good. It
takes a while. Yeah, yeah. But boy, watch out.
So what's 2026 for you? I'll be 62 in October.
So, yeah, just supporting the family, trying
to get them set up, keep as healthy as I can,
happy as I can. Family is so important to us.
We were all here at Christmas dinner and I just
sat back and looked and said, how lucky am I?
How much has God blessed me? They're all here
with their little babies. What else do you want?
What more do you want? It's just amazing. If
it wasn't for the help that Dad and my uncle
and my mother... Gave me, you know, probably
their parents gave them and their parents, you
know. So I'm determined that while I'm here on
earth to do whatever I can for those four kids
and now they're little kids. And who are some
of your peers? Today, I'm particularly close
with the Bowleys. Kath and Cole, I grew up with
the boys. They were my age. Brian was in my class.
Had a bit to do with Al and Don, their older
brother, and good friends with them. Where did
they live? Right next door where you drove in.
Oh, I apologise. On the farm next door. Cole
and Kath were like second parents to me. They
were very, yeah. And this is the thing that binds
you to community, these people. Yeah, yeah. That
know you. Yeah, yeah, that's right, yeah. And
love you. Yeah, that's right. And care. Yeah.
Yeah, exactly, yeah. We grew up in a special
time when the community was just so there for
one another, just unbelievably, you know. You
couldn't survive without your neighbours, you
know. It was like that. It just set you up for
life, really. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Your values.
Yeah, yeah, I think so. Your morals. Yeah, yeah,
exactly, yeah. Like, you talked to... Not everyone,
but you talk to people now about stuff and you
can see behind the eyes, they're thinking, how
can I work this to my advantage? You can just
see them. Dad always said you can just look in
their eyes, whether it's a horse or a bull or
a cow or a calf, you can tell what... most especially
people, you can tell. You can read them like
a book, as you always used to say, and it's pretty
true. I'll have to take more notice. Did you
ever horse ride competitively? Oh, I did a bit
of pony club. We went to Gymkhana's and, you
know. Doesn't the pony club operate there anymore?
I mean, I don't know. I don't know, yeah. But
you went to the Berry Pony Club? Yeah, as a kid,
yeah, when I went away to school. Was it busy?
Did you have a lot of kids there? Yeah, it was
about 15 or 20 kids. They were all girls, except
for me and Tony Wybrow. That would have been
good. Yeah. Maybe. Yeah, they used to pick on
us. And who was running it, do you know? Geoff
Monteith was the president. Mrs Bell was the
chief instructor. I think the Priestly's got
involved a little later, just after I left. And
we used to ride out to Pat Ryan's paddock, where
there was a few jumps, out at Farm Meadow. Good
days, yeah. They sort of tried to teach us the
etiquette of gentleman riding, but... Pete, you're
not in France, are you? No, no. As long as we
can get those cows in. You still ride today,
don't you? Yeah, yeah. Yep. All right, that'll
probably do us for today. That brings us to the
end of the recording. I'd like to thank Ian Zanster
again for this season. I'd like to thank John...
Miller, also who I interviewed at the very start
of season one, episode one, where I grabbed a
vox pop from John about the importance of this
project. So it seemed timely that I finish with
this recording today. Terry Fylde's been another
good person for me to engage and talk with. I'm
grateful for those people supporting me. I'm
off now to write a book I need to write. titled
The Sacred Heart of Green Valley. It encompasses
over 30 years of media and my own research, and
it's waiting for me. So I'm committing to finishing
that book, touring that book, selling that book,
and then I'll see what's around the corner, folks.
You know where to catch me, theresesweeney .com
.au. Take care. Thank you. Signing off, Therese
Sweeney.