family business

Co-op members posing in front of a pole barn built by the company their family owns and operates.

The pole barn — as familiar a fixture on modern farms as a pickup truck — is an architectural innovation born in the 1930s, the result of a marriage of necessity and opportunity.

For decades, the pole barn has reigned supreme on American farms. But the pole-frame structures of today have come a long way from the simple pole barns of the Depression, says Caleb Miller, owner and president of MQS Structures in Lancaster. Pole framing remains a popular design for farm outbuildings, but these days, Miller’s company, a member of Lancaster-based South Central Power Company, may just as likely be using pole-frame construction to build the shell for a far more complex structure.

Visitors at Indian Creek Distillery cozy up to the bar for some samples.

Among Ohio’s numerous tourism “trails” that group loosely kindred attractions to create a single novelty destination, the recently conceived Sweets and Spirits Trail in Miami County seems a perfect pairing for this time of year.

My husband, Mike, and I made a date of it recently. To guide us along the route, we downloaded the Miami County Sweets and Spirits Trail app, which showcases all stops and includes a map with distances between each location. Some spots offer incentives for visiting, including purchase discounts, free samples, or a free shot glass. As we virtually checked in at each location, we earned points toward prizes from the visitors bureau.

We were taken with the area’s charming small towns and the warmth and authenticity of the trail’s shop owners. For example: 

Brett Fletcher has been selling Maine lobsters out of a 96-square-foot shack in Knox County for 14 years.

Along the road connecting Fredericktown and Amity in Knox County is a red wooden sign with a lobster on it, marking a driveway leading to 22 acres of wooded property featuring a creek, walking trails, two cabins and a 1961 Shasta Airflyte camper trailer for rent, a house, a

The road to Amity

After graduating from Ohio State University, Fletcher talked his dad into co-signing a loan for a lobster boat and moved to an off-the-grid family cabin in Georgetown, Maine. He spent the next 20 years as a professional lobsterer, hauling water to his makeshift shower and 200 traps’ worth of lobsters per day from the waters surrounding the island town.

Experienced Klier crew members place long steel beams beneath a structure, then slowly raise it.

Jim Klier has been a mover for 39 years.

Klier has moved plenty of homes for lots of different reasons — some legal, like for zoning issues; others more sentimental. Klier’s moved a lot of older homes. Much older. Like an 1813 timber frame home on Lake Erie.

“Oh, heavens yes,” he says. “A home that’s been in the family for generations, for example. You really have to love the house to do something like that, to go through that process.”

The second and third generations of the Stalder family of cheesemakers: John Stalder and Chuck Ellis stand behind Grace Stalder and Sally

For Swiss immigrants Ernest and Gertrude Stalder, 1937 was an important year. Not only was their son John born, but a new rural electric cooperative began powering their business, Pearl Valley Cheese, in eastern Coshocton County.

For the Stalders, cheese is more than a business — it’s a lifestyle that has endured for four generations. John and his wife, Grace, took over the factory during the 1960s, and though they’re now octogenarians, they lend a hand there practically every day. The couple also raised four daughters — Ruth Ann, Sally, Heidi, and Trudy — who, along with their spouses and offspring, have helped to make cheese and run the plant in various ways over the years.  

Laurelville Fruit Farm sign

It was the antics of a wily and very hungry fox that serendipitously led to the creation of an apple-growing enterprise and cider mill that are still going strong more than a century later.

“My dad took over the farm after World War II,” he says, “and growing up in the ’60s, I remember working my tail off to help out. Some of my high school friends and I would get up at 5 o’clock in the morning and make a thousand gallons of cider before school started, and then jug it when we got home. But it was fun, we didn’t think of it as work.”