Ahead of the Herd

Behind the tractor and gumboots and Tennessee accent, John Harrison has the restless curiosity of a cutting-edge innovator.

Harrison has parlayed his roots as a third-generation dairy farmer to become a titan of the farm-to-table movement. While the legacy of the small, local dairy has largely faded from the Tennessee landscape, Sweetwater Valley Farm has thrived on the back of Harrison’s gumption and adaptability.

Today, Sweetwater’s on-farm cheese factory does a robust business, but it was fraught with risk when he launched the venture 17 years ago. 

“This whole specialty cheese business is a big to-do now, but it was a novelty then,” he recalls. “There was no such thing as agritourism either.”

After taking a cheese making course in Washington State, Harrison borrowed against his farm and spent $1.5 million building a cheese factory. 

“Then gee whiz, I needed inventory. You don’t have anything to sell until you have something to sell,” Harrison says.

Aging cheese takes 6 months minimum, and up to 18 months for an extra sharp. So, Harrison had to sink another half a million dollars in start-up costs before he could sell the first block.

In those pre-Internet days, there was no direct line for farm producers to reach end customers. Harrison’s plan was to market the cheese for corporate gift baskets. 

 “We found out real quick what people wanted was to come to the farm. Right off the bat, we had to change our game plan,” Harrison says. 

An on-farm cheese shop was added, with a viewing window of the cheese factory. But, Harrison soon discovered the cows behind the cheese were actually the biggest draw.

“People didn’t just want to see cheese, they wanted to see cows. So it kept evolving,” Harrison says. Tours of the farm became an important hook. A simple slogan that said it all—“Cheese. Cows. Wows.”—proliferated on billboards across East Tennessee, positioning Sweetwater Valley Farm as one of the region’s first large-scale agritourism destinations.

Harrison comes from a long line of dairy farmers—his father, his grandfather, his uncle, his brother. He grew up in the family business, but eventually, his entrepreneurial spirit got the best of him and he struck out on his own.

From a humble start on 400 leased acres, Harrison amassed a 2,500-acre dairy empire over the next three decades, even winning the Innovative Dairy Farmer of the Year by the International Dairy Foods Association in 2012.

Harrison’s wife, Celia, is a doctor at the nearby Sweetwater Hospital. Their five children were raised on the farm, helping with everything from farm chores to the retail cheese shop.

“They’ve all had to do it,” Harrison says.

Harrison’s oldest daughter has taken the reins of Sweetwater Farms’ marketing. One of his sons is currently majoring in agribusiness with plans to join the business as well.

Harrison’s youngest daughter, Amy, 16, is the only one left at home. She gives tours on weekends, sharing her intimate knowledge of the farm, from birthing calves to the milking operation.

The picturesque Sweetwater herd creates a black-and-white patchwork motif on the rolling emerald green hills. They’re a docile and mellow bunch, dutifully trotting from their barn to the milking parlor like clockwork.

The herd numbers 2,000 in all, but that includes the calves and yearlings that aren’t milking yet. It’s no small feat to feed the 1,300 dairy cows that are active milkers. They go through 100 pounds of food a day. Front-end loaders shovel huge scoops of citrus pulp, cotton seed, grain hulls and corn stalks—a diet primarily of plant waste that’s inedible to humans anyway. 

Not all the milk produced by the herd goes to cheese. Most of the Sweetwater’s milk, in fact, heads for the nearby Mayfield bottling plant and is sold under the yellow Mayfield label. 

Sweetwater employs 30 people between the dairy operation and cheese factory, but the core of its economic impact is the thousands of visitors who funnel through the farm to witness the origin of cheese.

Sweetwater Farm has a lot going for it. The name was an easy winner, lifted straight from the Sweetwater Valley it calls home. And while the idyllic pastures seem miles from nowhere, the farm is an easy detour from Interstate 75, delivering a steady stream of customers looking for a diversion from the road.

Guided farm tours can’t be held around the clock, however, so Harrison found another way to deliver an interactive farm experience. A slick, museum-caliber exhibit called “The Udder Story” traces the life of a dairy cow and the role of the dairy industry from historic to modern times.

“We wanted to educate the public on what we do, and why we do it,” Harrison says. “People are fascinated with milking a cow.”

When building the exhibit, Harrison though why not build an indoor pavilion with picnic tables big enough to seat a 100 kids on a field trip or a church bus?

Harrison is always rolling around ways to improve the farm visitor experience and is never quite content without another project on the horizon. He hints at new one in the works in coming years—a catwalk through cow quarters to give the public a glimpse of farm operations without jumping on a guided tour. 

While Harrison is considered a pioneer of the farm-to-table, agritourism movement in East Tennessee, to him, it’s not all that new. His grandfather was not only a dairyman, but bottled and delivered milk to doorsteps across the countryside in the 1940s. He sees his burgeoning business today as a return to those roots.

“I think what we lost in our industry for a generation or two was the connection between the farmers and their customers,” Harrison says. “Both parties want to have that relationship again.”

Make Way for Sweetwater Cheese

It’s a Saturday afternoon at Sweetwater, and the cheese tasting bar is hopping. Martha Bush bustles around taking inventory of the samples and replenishing whatever runs low. 

“Try the pimento cheddar,” Bush hints to a couple circling the array. 

With two dozen flavors, where to plunge your toothpick first can be a daunting decision. Luckily, there’s no wrong answer.

Strangers bond over the Italian Pesto cheddar. A pair of women ooh-and-ah at the extra sharp white cheddar. Kids dare each other to try the Fiery Fiesta. In the corner, a lively debate breaks out among a church seniors group on the merits of the Tomato Herb versus Garden cheddar.

Bush took a break from stocking to talk about the cheese-making process—visible for all to see behind an expansive glass window running the length of the room. Bush began milking cows on Sweetwater Valley Farm in the 1990s, and soon learned the art of cheese making when the farm launched its cheese factory operation.

Every day, 3,000 gallons of milk make the journey through the stainless steel vats and troughs. Stirred with large paddles and pressed in small batches, every block is shepherded by hand from farm-to-table. From adobo peppers to onions and chives, real ingredients are behind all the custom flavors. Even the Hickory-smoked gouda is the real deal, smoked on trays with real hickory chips.

If you visit the farm, be sure to bring a cooler or order online at sweetwatervalley.com.