I remember a few my dad tells of when he
was younger:
He was disking with a John Deere A. It
had the channel type seat bracket with a
pan seat. As he pulled out of the field
and up the ditch bank towards the road,
the bolt that holds the channel or the
channel itself, not sure which, broke,
dumping him off the back of the tractor
while it was moving. He managed to
somehow grab the clutch lever as he went
down, just enough to disengage it and
stop it from pulling the disk over him.
Said he fell just inside of the rear tire
so it missed him when it rolled back down
the ditch bank.
We have VERY stoney ground here. We run
across some big rocks each year that have
to be removed with the skidsteer, but all
of the REALLY big ones had all but been
removed by my time, but my dad was around
for the removal of a lot of the big ones.
Said he would ride his bike to Gower
hardware, about 6 miles away, and get a
case of dynamite and caps. Strap it to
his bike and ride home. Had one big rock
that had popped up in the last couple
years that they had to farm around. His
dad put 4 sticks of dynamite under it to
pop it out of the ground. It didn't work,
it was too big. So dad said they dug
around the bottom of it in 3 places, and
packed 4 sticks around it in each of the
3 places. 12 sticks total, packed mud
around them to split the rock and lift it
out of the ground. Dad said when they set
it off, there were 3 or 4 BIG pieces
laying on top of the ground. This was
when Farmall H's were a common tractor on
the farms, 1950's. They had to hook his
dad's and his uncle's H to each chunk of
the stone to be able to drag it over to
the river flats out of the way. And they
had to go fix windows, as they knocked
windows out of a couple houses that
bordered their field. Some of them big
old rocks are still around, but dad said
most were hauled away when the steel
truss bridge was removed and replaced. I
guess that area along the river was where
everyone hauled their big rocks.
My grandpa had a Model 41 Silver King,
after it was out of the family for 60
years, I got it back a few years back.
All in pieces, but I have all of it back
nonetheless, just need to put it back
together. All Silver King tractors would
move right along, but this one had the
36" rear tires instead of the 24" tires a
lot had, and it had the high speed ring
and pinion of 3 options, it would go
around 40-45 mph from what everyone tells
me. Dad said he could remember riding on
it into the village up the road 4 miles,
and passing cars on the way up there.
This was when alot of people that didn't
have a lot of money were still driving
quite old cars that didn't go all that
fast from what I gather.
Dad's cousin had just gotten married to a
guy that was willing to help her dad, my
dad's uncle, on his farm, even though he
didn't have much exposure to most types
of farm work/machinery. Dad's uncle had
to leave for the day to take care of
something else, and there was still corn
standing that needed to be picked and put
in the crib for the cows. This was late
November. His son in law had been fully
thrust into the farm life, so he said
he'd run the corn picker and finish up
the field. So off he went to pick the
corn by himself, and a while later, mid
morning, not knowing for sure yet what
everything was supposed to look and sound
like while it was running, plugged the
corn picker. He stepped off the back of
the Farmall H to see what was going on,
but didn't turn the PTO off. Got the leg
of his full winter Carhartts wound into
the pto shaft. He was a pretty good sized
guy, and pretty strong. It beat him
around some before he was able to get
hold of something and it finished ripping
the Carhartts off from him. He laid
behind the tractor next to the corn
picker hitch for hours before a neighbor
had arrived home and heard him yelling
for help. You see, when it was beating
him around, it had pulled his knees
apart, and opened them up at the
kneecaps, and packed them full of mud and
field stuff. Dad said the mud packed into
where his knees were opened up caused
terrible infections that took months to
get under control, along with numerous
surgeries. He's lucky to have been able
to walk ever again, but even luckier to
have been allowed to live. He was fairly
young when this happened, and hobbled
quite badly for the rest of his life. He
was always cautious after that.
One more I remember dad telling me. When
he was about 7 he went to get and bring
in the cows for the night. It was dark
out, and the cows were about a half mile
away, past the woods where the fenced
lane opened back up into a fenced
pasture. On the way back walking behind
the cows, dad said the whole sky lit up
like it was daylight, he could see
everything. He said a huge fireball was
coming across the sky, seemingly right at
him. He was very scared, had no idea what
it was, and hid under a wagon next to him
in the lane. He said it got dark again
within probably a few seconds. He said he
just sat and waited for the impact. A few
minutes later he ran and shut the cows in
that had made their way back already, and
hurried and got inside their house. He
said come to find out a few days later,
the fireball that was coming straight for
him was a meteor that hit in Canada
somewhere. We're in MI here.
These were just some of the stories my
dad used to tell me when I was little
that would keep me awed, and wide eyed
with wonder as a little guy.
Ross
