Late one night, the police phoned to inform us that one of my grandfather’s buildings was on fire.

We rushed up to Brook Farm, but could only stand and watch as his old wooden barn burned to the ground. 

The firemen let us stand nearby as they pumped water from the nearby stream. 

As we watched the barn crackle and burn, my parents went into the farmhouse to check on grandfather. 

The real sadness came as my ninety-three-year-old grandfather, watching from the window, quietly asked if his cows were safe. 

He hasn’t kept a dairy herd for over twelve years.