PINE PLAINS — Most mornings, you can find farmer Sarah Chase in the same place you could find her at the ages of 14, 10 and 6 — in the dairy barn her grandfather built.
Chaseholm Farm has weathered the immense challenges pitted against modern dairies to become the sibling partnership, local food presence and ecosystem steward that it is today. Chase and her crew maintain the organic, grass-fed dairy while her brother, Rory, turns the milk into Chaseholm Creamery’s line of award-winning artisan cheeses.
When Ken Chase bought three farms in the 1930s and combined them to start his business, there were over 40 dairy farms in Pine Plains. Today, Chaseholm is one of four.
Consolidation in the industry, price fluctuation and real estate development pressure have made business untenable for most family dairies in the region over the decades.
“Not everyone appreciates that the rolling, grassy hills people are drawn to in this region have been maintained by livestock farmers,” Chase shared last week, standing between two orderly rows of cows during morning milking. “As farms are sold off to development, a lot of brush is moving in.”
Chaseholm’s longevity is thanks to a combination of farmer ingenuity, vision, community support and luck.
When Chase returned to the farm after college, it was out of a longing to reconnect with the land and animals she had grown up with while her father, Barry Chase, was managing Chaseholm.
It was also with a new understanding that there was a potential market within local food economies.
“I had friends who were experimenting with small vegetable farms that sold directly to customers through CSAs [community supported agriculture] and markets,” said Chase. “I wondered if something similar might be possible with dairy.”
Ever since Chase took over the farm in 2013, connecting directly with customers has been central to the business.
Chaseholm now operates a small, on-site store mere feet from the barn where the cows march into their stanchions every morning. The store stocks raw milk as well as the farm’s yogurt, beef and pork, and other locally sourced groceries. The cheese Rory makes down the road out of Sarah’s milk is featured as well.
The farm also delivers to CSA pickup sites around the region and the cheeses are available at many local stores and farmers markets.
Most dairy farmers sell their milk to regional cooperatives that pick it up and bring it swiftly to be processed. While the co-ops play an important role in getting fresh milk to market on a large scale, farmers are at the whim of set prices.
“We used to sell that way, but prices are so low and volatile, we couldn’t make it work. There is just constant pressure that reduces the value of milk,” Chase explained while each of the cows waited patiently for a turn to be milked. “There is a saying that when prices are high, you buy more cows to reap the benefits, and when prices are low, you buy more cows to increase production enough to make any money.”
Sarah Chase, owner of Chaseholm Farm in Pine Plains, in the barn her grandfather built.Janna Siller
Getting bigger and bigger felt like a losing battle to Chase, especially with the grass-based practices she had in mind:
“I’m just like my dad — the reason I’m here is because I love the cows. The more I learned about the potential of grass-based grazing systems to regenerate land, it was like discovering that my favorite animal was a superhero.”
To explain why, Chase took a journey to the deep, carbon-sequestering soils of grasslands the world over where herbivores graze concentrated areas in short bursts before moving along to stay safe from predators. The animals stimulate root growth and microbial life by pruning the grasses and by dropping fertilizer in the form of manure.
“We intend to replicate the impact of the great migratory herds, but in miniature, on Chaseholm’s pastures,” Chase said. “We use electric fencing and some brain power to coordinate which plot of land the cows will graze that day and when and where hay will be cut to carry the herd through the winter.”
Rory sees the benefits of grazing on the flavor profile of his cheeses and Sarah sees it on the resilience of the land. “Moisture is being held better in soil. In drought years, we are able to continue grazing.”
Breeding is also a key component of the system. Dutchess County has long been known for its productive, high-quality Holsteins. Chase is adding compatibility with grazing systems to the mix of traits she breeds for in her Holstein-Jersey mixes.
The Chase family, with the support of local land trusts, state funds and local fundraising, has sold the development rights to almost 300 acres of their land, 100 of which are forested, and put it all into permanent conservancy. Chase leases an additional 500 acres of land for producing hay and baleage (think: pickled hay that is extra nutritious to cows).
While Chase is passionate about inviting customers to experience the nutrition, flavor and connection to land that the farm has to offer, she also wants to create access to the unique kind of good time that is only possible on farms. Chaseholm hosts events from June through November with bands playing in the pasture, burgers for sale on the lawn, and drag shows in the barn.
As for the future, Chase hopes to keep anomalously being able to employ farmers in the dairy industry — Chaseholm currently supports a combined two full-time, year-round positions. She also hopes to invest in the farm’s infrastructure with a new barn:
“I want to modernize our facilities so that we can spend more time doing the fun/creative/enterprising stuff and less time just doing chores. It will be a big morale booster around here to move away from our very manual 1930s-style winter feeding methods, and I think our cows will like the new system, too.”
Sarah Chase, owner of Chaseholm Farm in Pine Plains, in front of the farm store and the barn her grandfather built.Janna Siller
A protester holds a sign at Fountain Square in Amenia on March 28, where more than 200 people gathered as part of the nationwide “No Kings” demonstrations.
Kim Travis of Amenia — who organized the rally at Fountain Square — said the demonstration reflected a dramatic shift from her early days protesting alone, when she faced threats while standing by herself.
“This started with just me, alone in June — day after day, getting threats,” Travis said. “To see it grow into more than 200 people today for this ‘No Kings’ rally in our little-bitty town of Amenia is incredible.”
She said the turnout reflected broader support across rural communities. There were several rallies in towns across Dutchess County and in neighboring Connecticut.
Travis described the mood of the Amenia crowd as both emotional and energizing.
“Our hearts are filled with joy — it’s just incredible that so many people turned out today,” she said.
She added that the message of the protest was rooted in democratic values.
“We want our country back, and we want democracy,” Travis said. “We the people serve no kings. That’s what the Constitution is all about.”
Protesters display an upside down American flag in Amenia on March 28, where more than 200 people gathered as part of the nationwide “No Kings” demonstrations.Photo by Aly Morrissey
Ellie Myers, a senior boarding student at Millbrook School who lives in Brooklyn, attended the Fountain Square protests and said she has been protesting since Donald Trump was first elected in 2016.
“Showing up is really important to me, and I’m grateful to be in a community where I can support others,” Myers said. “Right now, ICE is the biggest issue. I have friends and family who have been affected — hardworking immigrants who came here for freedom and haven’t found it. That’s heartbreaking. It goes against what ‘we the people’ is supposed to mean, and it’s painful to see, both in the news and in real life.”
Myers added that she witnessed ICE in the airports during recent travel back to school and it was “heartbreaking.”
Dutchess County Legislator Eric Alexander, who represents Amenia and surrounding communities, also attended the rally, noting it followed a unanimous county resolution opposing a proposed ICE facility in the Hudson Valley.
“That wasn’t just Democrats,” Alexander said. “That was the entire legislature unanimously saying no to ICE, and a lot of that came from the voice of the people — the people we represent.”
Alexander said the size of the rally stood out, noting its growth from a single protester to a dozen regular participants and ultimately more than 200 attendees.
“I see a great sense of community, and I see a great sense of optimism,” he said. “But I also see high frustration. People are very concerned, and I think that concern is only growing as we see more and more of what’s going on in our country.”
He said the country is in a war that hasn’t sufficiently been explained to the American people, dysfunction is rampant at airports, and prices of everything from gas to groceries are soaring.
“And we don’t see an end in sight — we don’t see a plan,” he said. “These are people standing out here today saying we, as citizens, deserve to have our voices heard and to try to get some things to change.”
Protesters at Fountain Square in Amenia on March 28.Photo by Aly Morrissey
Several other local protests took place in Dutchess County, including in Rhinebeck, Poughkeepsie and Beacon.
Meanwhile, similar demonstrations took place across the border in Connecticut.
In Salisbury, several hundred people gathered along Route 44, where organizers set up signs and encouraged participants to share messages. In Cornwall, organizers estimated more than 300 attendees at the intersection of Route 7 and Route 4. Meanwhile, in Kent, both sides of Main Street were lined with protesters, with turnout estimated at more than 250.
As the rallies wound down, organizers such as Travis said the protests would not stop.
“A lot of the surrounding small towns showed up, too, because we want to show the rest of the country that small towns can be strong, loud and resist just as much as anyone,” she said. “And we intend to, and we’re not stopping.”
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Dan Baker, left, and Daniel Latzman at Barrington Hall in Great Barrington.
The partnership behind Barrington Hall began long before the building itself. Both Baker and Latzman grew up on Long Island, spent more than a decade in New York City, and eventually found their way to the Berkshires, drawn by the desire for something different. What they didn’t realize at first was just how closely their lives had already mirrored one another.
They were born in the same hospital, a year apart. Their families had distant connections. They even played on the same soccer team — never meeting, but moving through the same spaces. It wasn’t until they became neighbors in Egremont about five years ago that those parallels came into focus.
“In hindsight, it feels inevitable,” Latzman said. “But it was actually extremely random that we ended up here.”
From the beginning, Barrington Hall was meant to be a place people return to, not for any one event, but for the experience of being there. On any given week, the space might host a jazz performance, a dance party, a songwriter circle or a children’s event. Some nights bring in touring acts. Others highlight local creatives. The variety is intentional and so is the atmosphere.
“It’s about people,” Baker said. “It’s about being present.”
Inside Barrington Hall.Provided
Baker and Latzman are keenly aware of the world outside with its constant barrage of information, political conflicts, a culture that pulls people deeper into their screens. Barrington Hall offers a way out of that noise.
“A little bit of a bubble,” Latzman said. “A place to step away from everything else.”
During a recent event, they noticed something telling: a full room of people dancing, talking, engaged — and almost no one on their phone.
“That’s when you know something is working,” Baker said.
Taking over a beloved local space comes with responsibility, one Baker and Latzman have met by honoring the building’s traditions while also expanding them.
“We didn’t feel obligated,” Latzman said. “We felt honored.”
Part of what makes the space distinct is its versatility. Large enough to host more than 250 people, yet intimate enough to feel personal, it fills a gap in the local landscape, serving a wide range of people and bringing different groups together in the same space.
“We want people to feel like, if something’s happening here, it’s worth checking out,” Latzman said.
They are carefully balancing community access with the realities of running a business, with an eye toward the long term.
“We want this to be here in 20 years,” Latzman said.
Inside Barrington Hall.Provided
That vision extends beyond the building itself — future collaborations, expanded programming, a growing role in shaping the cultural life of the Berkshires. But at its core, the mission remains simple: to create a place where people can gather, a place that feels alive.
And perhaps most importantly, to create a place where, if only for a few hours, people can step away from the noise of the world and enjoy being together.
When asked who they’re most excited to host next, their answer was immediate: The Mammals on April 10 and Lee Ross, a one-man party band from Massachusetts, scheduled to perform on May 1.
For more information and tickets, visit
barringtonhallgb.com
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