Perrone's Farm: Rooted In New Milford

Mike Perrone, a man whose family has been farming the same piece of land on River Road for 92 years, remembers when New Milford was a farming town filled with horses, chickens, pigs and rabbits. 

"There were no tractors, so the horses plowed the fields," he reminisced. "We got our eggs from the chickens, sold the old chickens for food, and raised pigs and rabbits for meat."

"Nothing was ever wasted," he said.

Perrone's grandfather, Carmine Perrone, left Calabria, Italy in 1898 and traveled alone to America where he settled in Astoria, and Corona, Queens before sending for his wife, Rose, and her mother, Mary, in 1904. Carmine and Rose had eight children. Their youngest child, Anthony, was Perrone's father. 

Looking for a place to settle on the other side of the Hudson, Carmine bought ten acres of farmland on River Road in 1920 and moved the family over in 1922. Throughout the years, acres were added to the farm and subsequently sold. 

"In 1926 my grandfather died of a brain tumor at the age of 50," Perrone said. "My father and his brothers Joe, Frank and Freddie ran the farm with my grandmother."

"Eventually, Frank and Freddie left the farm, leaving my father, Uncle Joe and my dad's brother-in-law to run the farm." 

It was on this farm that Perrone's parents married and raised a family. 

Perrone, the oldest son and third generation farmer has fond memories of growing up on a farm in New Milford. He remembers when as many as 20 farms ran along River Road. His earliest memory is following his uncle, Tony, as he rode the horses up River Road on his way to plow the fields. 

"Back then our property went from River Road to Boulevard all the way down to Henley and Boulevard," Perrone said. "And Uncle Tony took care of all the animals so we were always following him somewhere."

Perrone recalls that most of the farms were truck farms--farmers would load their trucks and go into New York City to sell their vegetables. 

"Most of the farmers sold their vegetables downtown in Manhattan and at the Bronx Terminal," he said. 

Perrone smiles as he remembers his grandmother who lived downstairs from his family in the farm house. "I was the first born and a son," he said smiling. "So you can imagine how my Italian grandmother spoiled me rotten."

"I remember I'd eat whatever my mother made for me upstairs and then sneak downstairs where grandma would have what seemed like a feast waiting for me," he recalled. 

And like any good Italian son, he remembers the huge pot of Sunday sauce that would sit bubbling on the kitchen stove. 

"No one could ever walk pass the pot without ripping off a piece of Italian bread and dipping it into the sauce," he laughed. "The sauce was almost gone before dinner even started." 

Perrone's family had a small stand outside of their house where they would sell their vegetables. 

"During World War Two my dad started selling plants to the people in town so that they could start their own Victory Gardens," Perrone said. "We grew all kinds of vegetables; we'd start them from seed and sell the potted plants for people to transplant into their own gardens for the war effort." 

It was during World War Two that Perrone said his father started greenhouse planting to bed vegetables so that he could supply the demand of people who wanted to start and maintain their victory gardens. 

"Growing up in New Milford, the town was filled with farms," Perrone reminisces.

Growing up next door to Perrone was Bill Klinger whose family's farm abutted his. 

"Bill was like a brother to me," Perrone said. "I can't remember a day going by when we didn't talk to each other."

"We went to school together, played together, and walked in and out of each other's houses like they were our own."

Like brothers, Perrone said that whenever one was having a problem farming, the other would lend a hand or a field. 

"Bill didn't grow too many vegetables so, if my soil wasn't taking or I needed extra farming space, Bill would let me grow in his field."

They also built greenhouses together and helped eachother out as much as they could. 

The only time Perrone ever left the farm was when was when he went into the Marines--from 1960 to 1964. He took over the farm from his father in 1970. 

Perrone will tell you that a farmer's life is ruled by the seasons, and this time of year, when the growing season is just kicking off, it is especially busy. 

Perrone's day begins as it does six days a week -- at midnight as the trucks going to market are loaded and checked before rolling to the Bronx where Perrone sells at the Fulton Fish Market in Hunts Point. Perrone's day ends "somewhere around eight at night."

The days without his buddy Bill Klinger are a little more lonely, but no less hectic for Perrone who has been readying the farm for the busy growing season with the help of his son, Steve--the fourth generation Perrone to farm the land. 

"If I had to do it all over again I'd choose the exact same life on the exact same piece of land here in New Milford," Perrone said as he moved from around the counter to help a customer decide on a hanging basket. Almost as an afterthought he added with a smile, "With the exact same people."