The Old Days

My grandpa owned this farm since 1920. The tenant before us moldboard plowed everything. There was one place on the end of a field that had gullies two feet deep. I felt like the tractor was going to tip over if a wheel went in there. We had a 4010 John Deere Diesel that my boss had found for us and we bought a loader for it. That made it a lot easier to fill the gullies. We just had that one tractor so changing the loader was a big deal when it came time to do field work.

Before I knew I would be a farmer and even knew Dawn, out of curiosity, I attended a meeting with Ernie Behn about ridge till. The only class I liked in high school was Biology so I appreciated his take on letting nature be, where possible. We planted the corn or soybeans and cultivated the standing crops. No preplant tillage was done. Spraying replaced disturbing the soil and destroying its structure.

Our house was the oldest house in Ingham Township. The bathroom had red velvet wallpaper. Dawn and her mom didn't appreciate it as much as I did. The south and west sides had porches added on which made it dark inside. In all, it had four additions. When we tore it down we found that the outside footing was very shallow. They had to build the footing and get the house weatherproof in order to get through the winter. There was a cellar inside that was dug by hand and the dirt carried out through the cellar door to the outside. Below the traditional slanted door was a very heavy door with a heavy iron bar across it. I was told that door was so heavy to protect from Indians.

We kept the tractor in the corn crib alleyway. The ears went into eight-foot wide sections on either side of the alleyway. It was pretty dark in the crib which led to me walking into the tractor's axle. It didn't yield to my thigh... I remember. We filled that crib twice. The crib was fun. I had to climb up there and aim a chute using baling wire to keep the ears of corn below the end of the chute. Baling wire and fossil fuels are why people have food. Ear corn is beautiful.

We hired a custom operator to pick corn the first year. The second year we rented a pull-type picker. It was late. When it was above freezing the brittle corn stalks broke off and piled on top of the machine, but I could drive through the field. The ears never went into the husking bed. There were many deaths and lost limbs because of that in the old days. I was smarter or luckier. Seeing all those missing parts on the old-time farmers was a good lesson. If it was above freezing the picker drug through the mud angled so the snouts didn't stay on the row and they smashed the corn down. Winter was imminent. It was a huge struggle and a race. We won.

Maybe my job was important. But Dawn and I were apart a lot in those days. She kept the kids out of harm's way and I grew crops. Soon, Dawn's dad retired and he and Mom spent a lot of time out here. I had no idea when I fell in love that along with Dawn came a wonderful family. Happy Valentine's Day.

More on the way. It's a long story.  

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