Why am I continually amazed at the generosity of the industry that is my livelihood?

The call came in on a Sunday night: A fellow dairyman had fallen from a silo and was in the hospital fighting for his life. A sick feeling washed over me as I listened to the details of the accident – broken bones, shattered teeth, swelling on the brain.

As I hung up the phone, two thoughts came to mind: I need to pray, and I need to get other people to pray.

Just days earlier this Holstein breeder was at World Dairy Expo watching black-and-white cows parade across the colored shavings at one of the biggest purebred dairy shows in the world. A young, vibrant father of two with an enthusiasm for breeding good cows was enjoying his livelihood one day, and lying in Intensive Care the next.

As his family gathered around the bedside of their loved one, who was unrecognizable because of the facial damage, the doctors advised that the first 72 hours were critical, and if he made it through that, he had a long road to recovery and rehabilitation. One of the nurses attending him doubted he would make it through the week, but she didn’t say a word.

Friends and family across the Midwest burned up the phone lines with calls, and e-mails went out asking for prayer and support for this family. Prayer spread across this country like wildfire on a dry Nebraska prairie.

E-mail updates were given daily while friends, neighbors, acquaintances and complete strangers were responding, wanting to know what they could do to help.

Offers to harvest their crops, cook their meals and provide the family with whatever they needed at such a difficult time were flooding in each day.

The countdown was on, and as the 72-hour timeframe ticked away there was a collective sigh of relief as the doctors reported the swelling on the brain was decreasing and his brain was showing activity. He was able to squeeze the doctor’s fingers on command and was conscious of who was in the room. Prayers were being answered.

The doubting nurse showed up later that week and was in awe that he had even survived. I guess she didn’t realize the tenacity and determination this young dairyman possessed – and maybe she didn’t count on an industry of people who, in one situation, are as competitive as any NFL team but when tragedy strikes, fly to the aid of each other.

And I wonder if any of us can really comprehend an industry that always has your back. As tough as we have it on the farm right now and the new struggles we face every morning, the dairy industry is as concerned about the well being of each other as they are about whether they can pay the feed bill this month.

And I can’t tell you how proud I am to be a part of such a compassionate group of people.

Readers with questions or comments for Melissa Hart may write to her in care of this publication.