IRASBURG - Harold Cutting has salt and pepper hair, large strong hands, and lots of memories. He is softspoken and articulate. At age 92, he has just recently retired from dairy farming.

He likes to reminisce, but he is not much for the limelight. It took some convincing before he reluctantly agreed to do an interview for this article.

Born on a farm in Newport Center, Mr. Cutting has been involved in agriculture all his life. His family moved to a farm in Newark just before the first World War. He remembers when there were 37 operating dairy farms in Newark. "Now there’s not one solitary farm producing milk in that town," he said. The Cuttings milked about 40 cows, and Mr. Cutting was never very tempted to increase the size of the herd.

"We had no debt for years," he said. That meant the family was able to get by with less income.

Mr. Cutting and his wife, Gladys Maude Donaldson, raised four children on their farm. Their names are Mary Corbett, Florence Stowell, Barbara Lawson, and Donald Cutting. The family farmed in Newark until 1960, at which time they had a barn fire. "That was at the end of harvest time, and it burned up a whole barn full of feed," he said. At that point they moved to the Airport Farm in Coventry. Five years later, they moved to the dairy farm in Irasburg where he still lives.

For many years, Mr. Cutting’s grandson, Allen Cutting, helped on this farm. But Mr. Cutting said his grandson is a "natural born mechanic" and has decided to pursue that as a career.

Mr. Cutting credits his wife, who died five years ago, for helping him with farm work, along with doing all the housework.

"She could milk the cows and drive the tractors," he said. "She raised up four children."

She was raised on a farm herself and knew how to do everything.

Times were hard during the Great Depression, but the family raised a lot of its own food.

"We had our meat, our milk, and a big garden and orchards." He said they used to go berrying and make pies and jam.

"Most of the people didn’t have much money, but they were happier than they are now. People got married and they stayed together. Maybe some of it was necessity," he said.

He said there was less crime then. He remembers when Vermont had two homicides in one year and that was a shock. In those days, a handshake was more certain than a written contract is today. "My father told me when I was growing up, ‘You be careful what you agree to do. Your word is your bond. Do what you say you will.’"

Families who did not live on farms suffered more in those days. Mr. Cutting recalls one day visiting some neighbors who lived a mile down the road. The father was not home just then because he was out looking for work. The kids all looked hungry and cold. The wind was blowing right through the house. They just did not have any money for heat and food.

He knew plenty of people who were excellent workers but just could not find any work for income.

In those days, he said, people didn’t expect as much by way of amenities. Even electricity seemed like an amazing luxury when it came along.

"I was 36 years old before I ever lived where there was electricity," he said. He can remember coming back into the house after working in the woods, flipping a switch to turn on the light, and thinking what an amazing thing it was to be able to do. He had always been used to using a kerosene lamp and still keeps one for if the power goes off.

Asked his secret of staying healthy all these years, Mr. Cutting smiled. "Never drank. Never smoked. Never told the truth. That helped some," he said.

Actually, Mr. Cutting said he did used to smoke a pipe, and he did drink once. That was enough.

"Just one time in my life I tasted whiskey," he said. He had been working in the woods with horses, and the mud was so deep that fall that the horses were sinking in clear to their bellies in spots. A guy he was working with told him they should put four horses on the "scoot" - the rig that they were using to lug the horses some hay. That would be easier, he said. The guy was due to come up with the horses on a particular Sunday, and Mr. Cutting recalls waiting a very long time before the man showed up with a friend.

"They were as drunk as lords," he said. They finally convinced him to give their whiskey a try, and he did. "I wasn’t even able to put on a bale of hay," he said, shaking his head. "I was so dizzy I could hardly stand up. Everything was revolving around me, oh my Lord." The two guys got to fighting, and they were rolling on the ground and actually rolled right under the horses’ feet. Mr. Cutting said it was a wonder they weren’t killed. Anyway, they finally got the hay delivered, but by then Mr. Cutting was quite sure he did not want to try alcohol again. "Those two guys were still rolling around on the ground when I left," he said.

As a more serious answer to the question of the secret to his longevity and health, Mr. Cutting said he thinks it’s a matter of nutrition.

"We had good nourishing food," he said, most of it raised right on their own farm. He does not raise a garden any more, and he misses walking outside to pick a fresh ear of corn or digging some new potatoes.

Mr. Cutting remembers both world wars. He was ten years old, in fifth grade, when the first world war ended. The teacher sent them all home in the middle of the day. "She told us the war is stopped, so class is all dismissed."

He said the soldiers came home and brought so many unusual diseases that a lot of people got sick and died.

As a small child, Mr. Cutting used to walk a long ways to school in knickers and stockings. Some days, it was very cold. There was a lady who lived half way, and often she would invite them in to warm up along the way. "I can never forget how cold we were," he said.

Mr. Cutting’s mother was a strict disciplinarian. He had to hoe rows in the garden on Saturdays before he could go fishing. He often went fishing as soon as he got home from school as well.

"I couldn’t wait to get out of school. I had my worms all dug," he said. The fish made a much-needed meal for the family.

Mr. Cutting’s first job was when he was about ten years old, delivering Caledonian-Record newspapers. The pay went home to help support the family.

Mr. Cutting was 30 years old when World War II started.

"They wouldn’t take the farmers," he said. The government felt that farmers were needed too badly to produce the nation’s food.

Mr. Cutting always enjoyed farmfng, especially working with horses. One of his favorites was a work horse named Rob.

"If you got stuck with a pair, you could go get Rob, and he’d pull them out," Mr. Cutting said. "He was a powerful horse."

One thing that has changed a lot over the years is the weather. Mr. Cutting said the winters are much shorter and there is less snow overall. "I know there’s a drastic change," he said.

When he was younger, the snow was deep by November. "Usually by the first of November you were all done automobiling," he said. The roads were rolled instead of plowed, and traveling was accomplished with sleds. Spring came later, too. Traditionally, the Cuttings celebrated Mr. Cutting’s wife’s birthday on May 10 with a sugaring off party. There was not a lot of snow on the ground still but there was always a drift in one spot to get the snow for sugar-on-snow.

Not only are winters warmer, summers are hotter also. He said he has noticed that the sun has become really intense in the last few years. That never used to be the case around here, he said.

Asked what advice he could give to young people who want to get into dairy farming, Mr. Cutting shook his head.

"I don’t know if I’d dare give ‘em any," he said. "The farmers are having hard times." He said years ago, farming was a lot harder work physically. These days machinery makes the physical work easier. But the high costs of machinery, labor, and other expenses make it extremely difficult to make a profit producing milk, he said. "I think the big farms are going to drive out the small ones. And I think the debt load is going to drive out the big ones," he said. He said the only advice he can think of is maybe wait until things stabilize.

Mr. Cutting has a lot of happy memories of farming over the years. He remembers coming home from working in the woods one night and coming into the barn to find his wife.

"She was in the barn milking. Two little kids in the hay, sound asleep, happier than clowns."