A joke that made the rounds in the financially troubled 1980s involved a farmer who hauled two Holstein bull calves to his local livestock market. Not only did the calves fail to sell; an unknown someone had put two additional free calves in his pickup to take home.

Supply and demand, which underpins our free enterprise system, has robbed the old story of its reality. The U.S. Department of Agriculture's recent projections indicate lower slaughter numbers for the remainder of the year while beef imports are expected to surge.

The beef cattle inventory was recently reported to have declined by 1%, which in part explains why retail beef prices remain high. The U.S. retail marketplace has responded by hiking the average hamburger price to $6.10 per pound, a 12% increase from a year ago.

The joke about unwanted calves at the sales barn contained a hint of truth. The market at that time valued calves at $25 or even less, which presented me with a buying opportunity. I already owned a Jersey cow, which I milked by hand before work and after. The gentle cow yielded more than enough milk for the family, which included two grade-school girls interested in 4-H and a son who was less than five years old.

The menagerie included a 500-pound foundered Holstein steer purchased at a discounted price, four Simmental cows with calves at their side and a purebred herd bull. Challenges seemed small at the time, and especially so when a person has big dreams.

The pasture's barbed wire fence was in miserable condition, with large parts destroyed by fallen trees and torn apart by rains that flooded the creek. An electric fence would give it renewed strength. The fence was constructed, but complications quickly set in.

I was unaware that the wild parsnips that grew in the ditch and fence line were a menace. The weed, when it contacts bare skin, can cause serious burns, which it did. The noxious weed, which continues to spread in Minnesota, is also difficult to kill.
Sarah's beef calf project started well along with her determination to show the calf at the county fair. It was unfortunate that her father lacked the time and commitment to help her train the animal for the show ring. It escaped from her during the show, which caused volunteers to chase it across parts of the fairground.

The steer grew into a 1,200-pound finished animal ready for butchering. Sarah objected, saying that if it was taken to the locker plant, she would not eat any of its meat.

I argued with her over that because her animal would yield prime beef, which wasn't always served on the farm when Mother did the cooking. She made do when an 8-year-old Holstein cow broke its leg or when a friend's aged Hereford suffered serious and ultimately fatal injury. Older animals yielded good hamburger but tough steaks and roasts.

Mother tenderized roasts with a mallet and often used Adolph's unseasoned tenderizer, which entered the marketplace in the 1940s. Its ingredients included salt, sugar, and something called bromelain. Bromelain is also used to treat inflammation, indigestion, and excessive blood clotting in humans.

Her Dad, as some other parents might do, agreed to market Sarah's 4-H steer through regular channels.

Another fair livestock project ended in failure when two calves came down with ringworm, which made it impossible to be shown at the fair. Ringworm was a common problem in livestock years ago.

Other problems - including pneumonia and escaped cattle - and the high cost of purchasing hay and corn added to the stress.

My plans for a sustainable livestock operation faltered when it became clear that burning both ends of the candle would bankrupt the family financially. My brother purchased the Simmental and the calves, which helped his children as they launched their 4-H and business careers
I take immense satisfaction that my failure ultimately led to their success.

Mychal Wilmes is the retired managing editor of Agri News. He lives in West Concord, Minnesota, with his wife, Kathy.