“It's been such a struggle just to keep things going,” Sue said. “We have managed, but now it is getting hard to pay even our basic everyday bills. I don’t know how much longer we can do this.”

As Sue spoke, she faced a $900 electric bill due in only four days. The barn needs repairs and there's farm equipment that should have been replaced long ago.

“We are running out of resources,” she said. “It’s hard to sit here and watch things fall apart.”

How Wisconsin became 'America's Dairyland'

Wisconsin didn’t start out as a dairy state.

In the mid-1800s, one-sixth of the wheat grown in the United States came from Wisconsin. White settlers from the East Coast didn’t need much initial investment and found the crop easy to manage.

But varying yields, rising competition from neighboring states and an insect infestation forced wheat farmers to consider alternatives. Dairy farming emerged in the latter half of the century as a better fit for the state’s terrain and climate.

By the turn of the 20th century, 90 percent of Wisconsin farms had dairy cows, and by World War I the state led the nation in butter and cheese production. It held the milk production title until 1993 when that recognition went to California.

Wisconsin, though, remains No. 1 in terms of connecting dairy with its cultural identity.

For nearly 80 years, “America’s Dairyland” has been imprinted on the state’s license plates. And for the last four decades, foam Cheesehead wedges have been a staple at sporting events and in tourist shops. Dairy contributes more to Wisconsin’s economy than citrus does to Florida or potatoes to Idaho, and more than a quarter of the nation’s cheese comes out of the state.

For all the pride Wisconsin takes in its heritage, some national consumer trends have been headed in a different direction. Sales of milk as a beverage have fallen steadily since the 1970s, with fewer parents encouraging their children to drink milk than ever before. Soy milk and almond milk — which dairy farmers point out aren't real milk — and scores of sports drinks have flooded the beverage market.

And although consumption of cheese, yogurt and butter have all increased, they've not always kept pace with runaway production. Today, for instance, U.S. commercial and government cheese stockpiles are at about 1 billion pounds — the highest level in a century.

At the same time, foreign markets for American dairy products have shrunk in response to tariffs that President Donald Trump placed on foreign steel and aluminum. Cheese shipments to China have fallen almost 65 percent, according to industry figures, and exports to Mexico are down more than 10 percent.

Mexico and Canada have targeted rural America as a way to punish Trump, and the economic harm could be felt for years to come, said Laurie Fischer, CEO of the American Dairy Coalition.

"This should have changed in November when Trump declared success with his newly rechristened U.S.-Canada-Mexico Trade Agreement replacing NAFTA," Fischer said.

"In retrospect, it was a disingenuous statement: The administration has not lifted steel and aluminum tariffs on Mexican and Canadian products, and in response, those countries are refusing to (ratify) the pact or lift retaliatory tariffs, impacting dairy products and other items."

Wisconsin farmers are getting about $10 million in payments from Trump’s farm bailout program announced late last year. It was designed to help producers of milk, pork, soybeans, corn and other commodities who have seen prices tumble in trade battles.

A 55-cow dairy farm would receive a one-time payment of $725 from the bailout but stood to lose between $36,000 and $48,000 in income last year from low milk prices, according to the Wisconsin Farmers Union. A 290-cow dairy would get $4,905 but would lose several hundred thousand dollars.

Further, dairy farmers have only been getting about 25 percent of the average retail price for cheese, the lowest portion since 2012, according to Fischer.

"There's no magic bullet on the horizon,” she said. “A shakeout will continue in the dairy sector until markets stabilize and supply and demand realign. Until then, dairy professionals at all levels are working on a day-by-day, if not hour-by-hour, basis to keep their operations afloat."

Farmers hurt from being too productive

The prices farmers receive for their unprocessed, unpasteurized milk are largely determined by the forces of supply and demand, and government programs.

Minimum prices are set by the U.S. Department of Agriculture using complicated formulas based on the wholesale market value of various dairy products such as cheese, butter and whey.

Many farmers see themselves as pawns in an agricultural system stacked against them. Faced with few options to control the price for what they produce, they ramp up production and hope markets don't buckle under the strain.

Dairy farmers don't even know what they'll be paid for their milk until 30 days after it's hauled off the farm.

"Every time we see the price go up a little it makes us very hopeful. And then when it drops ... everybody goes back to feeling pretty awful," Fischer said.

In 2012, Wisconsin Gov. Scott Walker announced an incentive program to produce, as a state, 30 billion pounds of milk a year by 2020 — a 15 percent increase. The state offered farmers grants for business planning, facility engineering and animal nutrition. The program, "Grow Wisconsin Dairy 30x20,” required them to put up their own money as well.

Despite record production every year since 2002, Walker urged farmers to step it up even more. “The reality," he said, "is the growth is not fast enough for the opportunities that are here before us."

Dairy farmers not only met the challenge, they reached 30 billion pounds in 2016 — four years ahead of schedule.

By then, however, the market had turned and many dairy farmers were having trouble breaking even on their new investments.

Some felt duped by the agribusiness system.

“The more surplus farmers produce, the lower the price of agricultural commodities for food processors," said Kara O'Connor, government relations director for the Wisconsin Farmers Union.

"All of the most powerful players in the industry, except the farmer, benefit from overproduction."

The amount farmers are paid for their milk varies monthly based on the USDA price, individual contracts, quality and other factors. Some farmers say they've been getting around $15 for every hundred pounds of milk they produce, roughly 12 gallons. Their costs: $20 or higher.

These are like prices from 40 years ago, said Dennis Rosen, who recently quit milking cows at his St. Croix County farm.

Back then, there were 39 dairy farms within 20 miles of Rosen's home. Of those farms, only three are left.

“We used to live in a very vibrant area of family agriculture,” he said.

With collapsed prices of milk, grain and other commodities, many farmers have lost money for months at a time. At some point, the losses become unsustainable.

“Just ask any of the 36 dairy farmers who are no longer farming in my neck of the woods today,” Rosen said.