Kenneth Smith, left, took over his father’s dairy farm in Brooksville. Now his son, Troy, takes care of the day-to-day operations.
Truman "T.J." Smith
T.J. Smith's dad had one cow.
He didn't own anything else. Not the shack his family lived in, and not the land he picked cotton on. He was an Alabama sharecropper during the Depression.
His only son wanted more.
So when T.J. was a teenager, he hopped a train. The tracks stopped just outside of what would become Miami. He followed the rails to a dairy. T.J. knew how to milk a cow.
He got a job in that dairy that day.
By 1938, he had gotten married and had his own son, Kenneth. T.J. had also leased a little house on the edge of town and bought himself a couple of cows.
Kenneth Smith
Kenneth Smith's dad had a couple of cows.
The family lived in a little house in the woods on the north edge of Miami. Kenneth grew up having to use an outhouse. He grew up having to help with the cows.
By the time Kenneth started first grade, his dad had saved enough money to buy a couple of acres. By the time Kenneth was in high school, he was helping his dad with a whole herd of cows.
But T.J. Smith wanted more for his only son. "He wanted me to be a vet," said Kenneth, who is now 65. "He sent me to the University of Tampa."
After one semester, Kenneth dropped out. He couldn't figure out how all those classes were going to help him with digging fence posts and milking. So he moved back to his father's farm. He scrubbed milk tanks, grew a garden, rolled hay.
By 1966, Kenneth had gotten married and had his own son, Troy. Kenneth had also built a wooden house on the edge of his father's farm and bought himself a Harley chopper.
Troy Smith
Troy Smith's dad had a couple hundred cows.
His grandfather moved T.J. Smith and Son Dairy just outside Brooksville in 1977, when Troy was 11. Troy grew up playing baseball, racing dirt bikes, rebuilding motorcycles. He grew up having to help with the cows.
By the time he finished high school, Troy was sick of cows. Plus he was allergic to milk. "Isn't that ironic?" asked Troy, who is now 37.
He wanted to race dragsters. Or make it in the major leagues. He played baseball at Pasco-Hernando Community College.
Troy took vet classes, too, but dropped out because he didn't want to face life on the farm. He moved to the big city, Tampa, and tried his hand at construction. He rented an apartment and met a girl, and she moved in.
Then construction work ran out and Troy moved back to his father's farm.
By the time he was 30 he was married and had a son of his own, T.J. (like his great-granddad). But he hadn't settled down. His dad was always getting on his case about staying out late, wasting money, not showing up ready to work.
"Then my wife died of pancreatic cancer and I became a single father. I had to give up my dream of racing cars and riding motorcycles," Troy said.
"I had to step up to the plate and look after my son.
"It wasn't until then that I realized what it meant to be a dad."
Troy Jay "T.J." Smith (the great-grandson)
T.J. Smith's dad has 300 cows.
He lives in one of four houses on his grandfather's farm. T.J. is 12 this summer. He's finally old enough to help out around the dairy.
T.J.'s dad has never forced him to work on the farm. But last week, T.J. asked if he could clean stalls, sterilize equipment, help fill the feed troughs. He asked how much money he could make.
