James Howell
Well-known Member
Sunday is Father's Day.
What's one of your favorite stories of either your father or grandfather?
What's one of your favorite stories of either your father or grandfather?
- Thread starter James Howell
- Start date
Fordfarmer
Well-known Member
How about a favorite story about a great-grandfather?
I think my great-grandpa Burch (my Mom's mother's Dad) farmed as an excuse to own land to hunt... and came north for better hunting, not because of land prices. (This is northern WI. The old Burch farmstead was swallowed up years ago by Chicago suburbs.) He had a farm, but ate more venison than beef... in or out of season didn't mean too much to him. I wish I could have been around to hear him try to explain why a window had to be repalced...after he shot it out. Seems he forgot to open it before he shot the deer!
I think my great-grandpa Burch (my Mom's mother's Dad) farmed as an excuse to own land to hunt... and came north for better hunting, not because of land prices. (This is northern WI. The old Burch farmstead was swallowed up years ago by Chicago suburbs.) He had a farm, but ate more venison than beef... in or out of season didn't mean too much to him. I wish I could have been around to hear him try to explain why a window had to be repalced...after he shot it out. Seems he forgot to open it before he shot the deer!
My paternal grandfather was born in 1901 in the rural South; when he was a teenager, he'd gone courtin' or just visiting and was walking home well after dark. No such thing as a flashlight or a lantern to walk back in their household. The houses were few and far between and there were no lights ANYWHERE; if there had been a light on, it was because there were sick folks in the house. It was a moonless night, but he could follow the dirt road by the light of the stars. The road ran down into a 'cut' where the starlight couldn't penetrate because of the tree branches overhead; there was a cemetery on one side and a woods on the other. When he was about halfway through the 'cut', he saw a pale, indistinct something just hanging in the air, appearing to float a couple of feet off the ground. He could either go back and go through the cemetery or the woods or proceed by the 'something'. After considering his options for a couple of minutes, he stepped up to the 'something' and gave a mighty kick with his brogans. He couldn't tell which was more frightened..........himself by the commotion that ensued or the neighbor's sleeping white-faced cow he'd kicked in the head.
I remember my grandpa loved to tell storeis of when he grew up.He lived on a farm and had many dumb city cousins. One day they were going out for a walk down the old barn trail and the city guy asked what all the little brown Balls were. My grandpa told him they were smartnup pills.City cousin pops one in his mouth and says it tastes like sht grampa says " see yer gettin smarter already" I can still see him tellin us storeies with the greatest of detail makin us all laugh.I wish I would have bin older before he died and I would have wrote a book from his storeies.He grew up with horses and after seeing so many people get killed by a run away horse he HATTED them.He jumped freight cars in search of work from one area to another.And when he told us those things he made it sound like so much fun but I know now that it was only are young minds that made it so.
greenbeanman in Kansas
Well-known Member
I"ll relate what an older fellow in town told me about my grandfather. I don"t know a great deal about him since he died nearly 20 years before I was born.
Grandpa was born in 1861 and came from Iowa to Kansas in 1886. He learned the blacksmith trade from grandma"s uncle and promptly bought out his shop.
The fellow telling me the story related that grandpa was an excellent blacksmith but made more by buying and selling his various shops rather than at the trade itself.
He had a good business as he knew his work well. He would tire of the work and sell out. Within a few months the new smithy didn"t have much work because of poor skills so grandpa would buy back the shop for a fraction of what he had sold it for. He did that several times always making a decent profit from the selling and buying and then selling again later.
The link below has photos for three of his shops and also an interior view which has been used in a couple of books. The shop was in Utica, KS from 1886 until 1928 which was the year he died.
--
An older cousin said on rainy days he would lay in bed all day smoking his pipe and work out details and dimensions for a project, recorded only in his mind and once the rain stopped he would go to his shop and build the item.
--
He and another fellow designed and built a centrifugal water pump but their sample pump was stolen during rail shipment and never reached the patent office. The railroad was unable to trace the loss.
---
I do have items that belonged to my grandfather. I have two of his blacksmith shop account books, a small notebook which gives his clothing sizes indicating stature, a few hand and measuring tools, his post vise, his last keyring of keys, and even his bowler (derby) hat. Love the packrat ways of my family.
Blacksmith shops of C.E. Barr at Utica, KS
Grandpa was born in 1861 and came from Iowa to Kansas in 1886. He learned the blacksmith trade from grandma"s uncle and promptly bought out his shop.
The fellow telling me the story related that grandpa was an excellent blacksmith but made more by buying and selling his various shops rather than at the trade itself.
He had a good business as he knew his work well. He would tire of the work and sell out. Within a few months the new smithy didn"t have much work because of poor skills so grandpa would buy back the shop for a fraction of what he had sold it for. He did that several times always making a decent profit from the selling and buying and then selling again later.
The link below has photos for three of his shops and also an interior view which has been used in a couple of books. The shop was in Utica, KS from 1886 until 1928 which was the year he died.
--
An older cousin said on rainy days he would lay in bed all day smoking his pipe and work out details and dimensions for a project, recorded only in his mind and once the rain stopped he would go to his shop and build the item.
--
He and another fellow designed and built a centrifugal water pump but their sample pump was stolen during rail shipment and never reached the patent office. The railroad was unable to trace the loss.
---
I do have items that belonged to my grandfather. I have two of his blacksmith shop account books, a small notebook which gives his clothing sizes indicating stature, a few hand and measuring tools, his post vise, his last keyring of keys, and even his bowler (derby) hat. Love the packrat ways of my family.
Blacksmith shops of C.E. Barr at Utica, KS
My Mother's Dad was 17 when he and a cousin decided to disappear from a town celebration and hop a train headed for Indianapolis, about 30 miles away. Their plan was to enlist in the Army, as the Spanish-American War had recently begun. The Army recruiter turned them down as being under-age, and told them their parents would have to sign the papers.
After spending the night in the loft of a livery stable, they each paid a barber 25 cents to forge their parents' names, and they were inducted into the Army. They bothered to write their parents and tell them where they were after about a week of basic training in Colorado. Then they went by train to San Francisco, and were shipped to the Phillipines for the duration of the war.
In a time when most people were born and died within a few miles of one place, my Grandfather had experiences that gave him some idea of just how big the world really was.
After spending the night in the loft of a livery stable, they each paid a barber 25 cents to forge their parents' names, and they were inducted into the Army. They bothered to write their parents and tell them where they were after about a week of basic training in Colorado. Then they went by train to San Francisco, and were shipped to the Phillipines for the duration of the war.
In a time when most people were born and died within a few miles of one place, my Grandfather had experiences that gave him some idea of just how big the world really was.
My maternal Grandfather was what they called a rounder. Hard working hard playing boozer. Revenuers came to the farm cause they heard he made shine (during proihibition). Mind you he had a 50 gal wooden barrel of mash working at the time. The barrel was buried behind the barn. The law finished looking and was leaving cause they couldn't find anything. Suddenly the old milk cow came staggering around the corner of the barn. Seems she had stepped on the barrel lid and broke through. Since it was open she helped herself to about half that 50 gallons of mash. SO Grandpa did a stretch in the pokey.
Granddaddy, had a way with words. He wrote several poems and a song or two. He was an encourager. One afternoon cousins, brother and I went hunting. We had home made bows and arrows and spears. We came across a skunk in the middle of the feild and killed it. We took it to show granddaddy and he bragged on us and told us how proud Grandmommie would be. "You boys take it in the front room and show her." She sure had a funny way of showing her pride.
Ultradog MN
Well-known Member
- Location
- Twin Cities
My grampa used to rent out some pasture land and a small field to his cousin. In exchange he got a young pig and a quart of whiskey every spring. Grampa raised a pig every year that I can remember. He raised the quart a little more often.
Goose
Well-known Member
My father hated snakes with a passion.
One morning when I was maybe five, he went somewhere with his truck. During the course of the morning, Mom killed a big bull snake in the garden. Dad came home for lunch, parked the truck by the house, and went in to wash up and eat. While Dad was in the house, Mom came out and said to me, "Let's have some fun with your father". She took the dead snake and coiled it up on the driver's seat of the truck.
Dad came out, saw the snake on the driver's seat of the truck and panicked. We had a rail on the front steps made out of 2X4's, and I kid you not, Dad pulled a 2X4 out of the rail and killed the dead snake all over again. By then, Mom was about rolling across the yard laughing.
Mom was kind of a straight-laced old gal, but she did have a sense of humor that surfaced occasionally, particularly if it involved tormenting my father.
One morning when I was maybe five, he went somewhere with his truck. During the course of the morning, Mom killed a big bull snake in the garden. Dad came home for lunch, parked the truck by the house, and went in to wash up and eat. While Dad was in the house, Mom came out and said to me, "Let's have some fun with your father". She took the dead snake and coiled it up on the driver's seat of the truck.
Dad came out, saw the snake on the driver's seat of the truck and panicked. We had a rail on the front steps made out of 2X4's, and I kid you not, Dad pulled a 2X4 out of the rail and killed the dead snake all over again. By then, Mom was about rolling across the yard laughing.
Mom was kind of a straight-laced old gal, but she did have a sense of humor that surfaced occasionally, particularly if it involved tormenting my father.
My father was born and raised in N. WI in the late 1920"s. They were as poor as the dirt on the floor of the log cabin where he, my grandparents, and his 7 brothers and sisters lived.
My grandfather kept food on the table by trying to farm, do carpentry work, night watchman at "moonshine" factory back in the woods, and by harvesting deer pretty much all year round.
It was natural then, for all the boys (my Dad and uncles) to take up hunting as soon as they were old enough to tote the 22 cal. rifle.
My father, prided himself on being a pretty good shot, and always looked forward to our annual trip back to the North woods for the 9 day WI. deer season...
One year, shortly before he died, we placed Dad on a spot along the Flambeau River where we had an exceptional "drive" that usually produced deer.
Early on the drive, we could hear his old 30-30 Marlin talking. That old 30-30, with iron sights, held enough shells to shoot all day it seems, and when we finished the drive, there was old Dad standing proudly by the 7 deer he had shot.
My brother and I, never missing a chance to rib our favorite hunting partner, had noticed that some of the deer had more than one bullet hole in them. We immediately started good naturedly chewing him out for "shooting the deer all up, wasting cartridges, and spoiling some of the choicest cuts of venison"....
Dad, still excited from all the action, started stuttering about his bi-focals being all fogged up and the fact that his eyes weren"t as good as they used to be, was interrupted by one of the other members of our group who said...."Bob, I don"t think there is ANYTHING wrong with YOUR eyes!!!!!
We today, refer to that drive, as the "Meat Locker" drive....
Our hunting partner is gone for 11 years now. I sure miss him, but boy, did we have fun when we got together...
Happy Fathers Day to all of you...
Tim
My grandfather kept food on the table by trying to farm, do carpentry work, night watchman at "moonshine" factory back in the woods, and by harvesting deer pretty much all year round.
It was natural then, for all the boys (my Dad and uncles) to take up hunting as soon as they were old enough to tote the 22 cal. rifle.
My father, prided himself on being a pretty good shot, and always looked forward to our annual trip back to the North woods for the 9 day WI. deer season...
One year, shortly before he died, we placed Dad on a spot along the Flambeau River where we had an exceptional "drive" that usually produced deer.
Early on the drive, we could hear his old 30-30 Marlin talking. That old 30-30, with iron sights, held enough shells to shoot all day it seems, and when we finished the drive, there was old Dad standing proudly by the 7 deer he had shot.
My brother and I, never missing a chance to rib our favorite hunting partner, had noticed that some of the deer had more than one bullet hole in them. We immediately started good naturedly chewing him out for "shooting the deer all up, wasting cartridges, and spoiling some of the choicest cuts of venison"....
Dad, still excited from all the action, started stuttering about his bi-focals being all fogged up and the fact that his eyes weren"t as good as they used to be, was interrupted by one of the other members of our group who said...."Bob, I don"t think there is ANYTHING wrong with YOUR eyes!!!!!
We today, refer to that drive, as the "Meat Locker" drive....
Our hunting partner is gone for 11 years now. I sure miss him, but boy, did we have fun when we got together...
Happy Fathers Day to all of you...
Tim
Anonymous-0
Well-known Member
My Grandpa was born in 1902. When he was a boy the place they lived at had a big hill in the road in front of the house. He used to ride his bike down that hill. There was not much for fences in those days. One day he was coming down the hill as fast as he could and just as he got to the bottom the milk cow walked out in front of him. The bike hit the cow, Grandpa went over the cow and the cow just kept on walking like nothing happened.
Nancy Howell
Well-known Member
My dad served in the Air Force. When I was growing up, we would stay up late watching the old war movies. He would tell me about the planes in those old movies. He would laugh at the planes used for Japanese Zeroes. He'd say those are just trainers and nothing like the real ones. While he never saw combat in WWII, he still knew about the planes and I loved listening to him talk about them.
Many years later, besides being father & daughter, we became best friends. I had gone to Gosport, Indiana to visit and he started talking about his days in the Air Force. His assignment was to ferry P-51's from the west coast to the east coast. He said he would always fly over Gosport. If he spotted a farmer out in the fields he would dive low and "buzz" the farmer.
Favorite story - We were just chatting one day and he remarked about how he held the speed record for Main Street which runs right through downtown Gosport. He laughed, looked at me and winked. Then he said I was nine feet off the ground in a P51 Mustang!" Too Cool!
Many years later, besides being father & daughter, we became best friends. I had gone to Gosport, Indiana to visit and he started talking about his days in the Air Force. His assignment was to ferry P-51's from the west coast to the east coast. He said he would always fly over Gosport. If he spotted a farmer out in the fields he would dive low and "buzz" the farmer.
Favorite story - We were just chatting one day and he remarked about how he held the speed record for Main Street which runs right through downtown Gosport. He laughed, looked at me and winked. Then he said I was nine feet off the ground in a P51 Mustang!" Too Cool!
olgentdc
Well-known Member
Well i am partial ...Hope you take time to read about my Dad .. My favorite Story is over in YOUR STORIES about 30 or So down called ...EULOGY FOR DAD ,, Describes in 6 minuts My Dads Wonderful Life of 93yrs , of Love and Joy ,War and Hardship ,survival and determination , that I hope i have learned well and passed on to my Own kids .. thanx For the memories...
Billy Shafer
Well-known Member
My father thought baling wire could fix anything. Always kept some in the truck. Anything that broke got baling wire around it. I remember one time the muffler and pipe broke off the 54 Chevy pickup we had. He went under the truck and a half hour later we were back on the road. Not all that quite but it got us around until he had the money to fix it correctly. Antenna broke on the old TV we had. Got out the baling wire and made a new one.
Today all of us kids and the folks that new him. Joke about the baling wire. Break an arm,get out the baling wire. Fix it right up.
Today all of us kids and the folks that new him. Joke about the baling wire. Break an arm,get out the baling wire. Fix it right up.
James Howell
Well-known Member
My father had a '53 Chevy truck with a steel/metal cattle frame in the bed.
He would pick up baling wire and twist it on the bars; just in case we needed it sometime.
Strangest thing you ever saw.
He would pick up baling wire and twist it on the bars; just in case we needed it sometime.
Strangest thing you ever saw.
James Howell
Well-known Member
Wish I could have had more time with your dad.
James Howell
Well-known Member
Grandaddy's brother, Uncle Authur, would come by ever so often and ask me to go squirrel hunting hunting with him.
He was a stout little man with white hair and wore wire rimmed glasses thicker than a coke bottle.
He had several "trained" squirrel dogs that he always hauled around in the back of his '56 Chevy truck.
All these dogs were strays that had been dumped at the end of a dirt road near Uncle Authur's home.
Talk about a circus; I spent more time laughing at the dogs than looking for squirrels.
He would always make me stand still while he walked around the tree "stalking" the squirrel.
When he got ready to take a shot, he would remove his glasses.
He said that his "aim" was better without his glasses.
Share that story with Uncle Authur's "side" of the family every chance I get.
He was a stout little man with white hair and wore wire rimmed glasses thicker than a coke bottle.
He had several "trained" squirrel dogs that he always hauled around in the back of his '56 Chevy truck.
All these dogs were strays that had been dumped at the end of a dirt road near Uncle Authur's home.
Talk about a circus; I spent more time laughing at the dogs than looking for squirrels.
He would always make me stand still while he walked around the tree "stalking" the squirrel.
When he got ready to take a shot, he would remove his glasses.
He said that his "aim" was better without his glasses.
Share that story with Uncle Authur's "side" of the family every chance I get.
James Howell
Well-known Member
Unable to hold back the tears from laughing so hard; that's a good one!
Goose
Well-known Member
I love those old WWII fighter planes!
I was in Marine Aviation from 1953 to 1963, and spent all my time in jet fighters, but there were still plenty of those old gals still around and even more stories about stuff you could pull with them that you didn't dare try with a jet.
Although there is a story going around about a Marine pilot who fried a California Hiway Patrol radar unit by coming at it 300 mph with an F16.
I was in Marine Aviation from 1953 to 1963, and spent all my time in jet fighters, but there were still plenty of those old gals still around and even more stories about stuff you could pull with them that you didn't dare try with a jet.
Although there is a story going around about a Marine pilot who fried a California Hiway Patrol radar unit by coming at it 300 mph with an F16.
James Howell
Well-known Member
Grandaddy Howell was a County Sheriff for many years.
He came up on a still to "talk" with the owner.
When the man saw the "High Sheriff" coming through the woods, he jumped on his mule and rode away.
During his escape his hat flew off his head, but he never stopped to pick his hat up off the ground.
Grandaddy knew exactly who the man was so he picked up the hat and went to his home to return it.
When grandaddy got to the man's home, the man was sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair, wearing his wife's straw hat, and reading the bible.
He told grandaddy that "It wasn't me you saw riding away on that mule."
Grandaddy laughed and said "I don't know anything about that; I'm just here to return your hat."
As told by my father.
He came up on a still to "talk" with the owner.
When the man saw the "High Sheriff" coming through the woods, he jumped on his mule and rode away.
During his escape his hat flew off his head, but he never stopped to pick his hat up off the ground.
Grandaddy knew exactly who the man was so he picked up the hat and went to his home to return it.
When grandaddy got to the man's home, the man was sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair, wearing his wife's straw hat, and reading the bible.
He told grandaddy that "It wasn't me you saw riding away on that mule."
Grandaddy laughed and said "I don't know anything about that; I'm just here to return your hat."
As told by my father.
Dave Sherburne NY
Well-known Member
My grandfather was over 70 when this happened back in the early 50's. He was sitting outside the house watching us put the hay in when my cousin was backing the wagon and team out of the haymow, and the back end of the wagon went off the side of the barn ramp. This spooked the team, and they took off across the road, and right up the house driveway faster than normal. Gramp stood up, stepped right out in front of the team,grabbed them by their bridles and hollered "Whoa ya sons of bitches" and they came right to a stop. After a brief rest, everyone went back to work, getting the hay in. Gramp was more experienced with horse than anyone else there.
The Dukester
Well-known Member
It's been several years ago but I guess I'll never forget the day my Dad was over visiting and I had to go into town to do a little grocery shopping for my Mrs. Dad wanted to go with me and it was fine that he did. On the way into town there was a kinda rough spot over a culvert between a lake and a swamp and Dad told me as I was approaching it I'd better slow down 'cause it was kinda rough. I told him "Dad, I'm 46 years old and I travel this road probably 10 times a week or more, why are you telling me about this?" He just said "No matter how old you are, I'm supposed to tell you things sometimes...unnerstand"? Yep....I guess I did.
jim in N M
Member
My Dad worked days and Mom worked nights during WWII, My two sisters and I would raise so much H*^ll that the neighbors would tell Dad when he came in from work. Well he'd wip off his belt and chase us kids and when he'd swipe at us his pants would fall, And we'd laugh our selfs silly. Only made him madder. Ahh the good old days growing up !! We really had great folks. Jim in N M
My Dad (now deceased) was expecting his brother to visit and went to local tavern to buy some beer for his visit. (My Dad & Mom rarely had a drink). Dad took my youngest sister along for the ride, she was about 6 or 7 then. She had never been in a bar. When they got home, my sister went right to Mom and asked her if she knew why bars/taverns where so dark? Sister also supplied the answer, SO YOUR WIFE CAN'T FIND YOU. Mom was not amused! Dad had obviously answered one of my sister's questions.
Happy Fathers' Day Dad!!
Tim
Happy Fathers' Day Dad!!
Tim
The fondest memory of my dad occurred in my senior year of high school. Dad was a rice farmer and tried to do everything himself. He loved to hunt and fish, but never had the time. However, that summer, he got on a deer lease with a long time friend. He and I went hunting Thanksgiving. He told everyone that he didn't care if he got a deer, but he wanted me to get one. I had never seen a live deer before, except in the zoo. We left after lunch on Thanksgiving day and got to the lease after dark. The next morning, they dropped me off near a stand, but I missed it in the dark, so I sat down under a tree. Twenty minutes later, an eleven point buck walked out in front of me. I carried him out to the road and sat down across the road waiting to be picked up. A very few minutes later, three bucks loped across the clearing about 180 yards away. I dropped the last one, an eight pointer. Dad was so proud, he nearly popped the buttons off of his shirt. I treasured that time together, as it was as much man to man as it was father to son. Two weeks later, he died of a heart attack. I have always thanked God for allowing us that time together. C.L.
James (Jim) Never will forget this one.
Dad was picking apples at my Grandparent's place (Mom's side) about 45+/- years ago. Had a ladder across a fence and then to the apple tree. Yep, branch cracked and he walked down the ladder till it got to the fence and then walked down the rest of the way - Kinda like a teeter totter!
Don't think he spilled any apples. Positive he can't do it now and pretty sure I couldn't either.
Jim (James)
Dad was picking apples at my Grandparent's place (Mom's side) about 45+/- years ago. Had a ladder across a fence and then to the apple tree. Yep, branch cracked and he walked down the ladder till it got to the fence and then walked down the rest of the way - Kinda like a teeter totter!
Don't think he spilled any apples. Positive he can't do it now and pretty sure I couldn't either.
Jim (James)
Anonymous-0
Well-known Member
this happen to my uncle but my father was there, one sat morn. in the summer my uncle came over to use dad's flat belt so he could run his buzz saw off his tractor and cut some wood, dad said yea you can use it ,its up in the barn so they go up to get it, when my uncle put his hand in the center of the rolled up belt to lift it up, he pulled his hand right back out real fast and said what the #ELL in there? thats when my brother who had been useing the belt for a commode ran real fast right out of the barn.
Fergienewbee
Well-known Member
I don't remember much about my grandfather; he died when I was around seven. But I do have an image of him eating almost everything with a wide-blade knife. He had a bushy mustache and you could tell what he ate by the crumbs in his 'stache. He also drove an old Ford stake truck and never left the drive without throwing gravel.
What I remeber most about Dad is that he's always there for me. He got up early every trout opener to drop me off at my favorite creek, let me tag along rabbit hunting and let me use his shotgun when I got old enough, toted my dates, loaned me his car when I got my driver's license. He taught me fair chase and respect for game and fish laws. I grew up in a time when men kept their emotions to themselves. We didn't start hugging until about 20 years ago. He turned 92 on June 15th. Happy Father Day, Dad.
Larry
What I remeber most about Dad is that he's always there for me. He got up early every trout opener to drop me off at my favorite creek, let me tag along rabbit hunting and let me use his shotgun when I got old enough, toted my dates, loaned me his car when I got my driver's license. He taught me fair chase and respect for game and fish laws. I grew up in a time when men kept their emotions to themselves. We didn't start hugging until about 20 years ago. He turned 92 on June 15th. Happy Father Day, Dad.
Larry
When I was about 5 years old I was always facinated bugs, and toads and various critters. I was particulary upset about having never been able to see a cicada up close. On eaving I was standing under a tree listening to a cicada and decided the only way to get it down was shoot it with my BB gun. After several failed attempts I decided i needed a bigger gun so I went to get my .22. Dad must have been watching and came to see what I was shooting at. I told him I wasn"t having any luck shooting the cicada and suggested he try. He took my gun and fired 1 shot up in the tree and low and behold the cicada came falling down(a hole right through the middle of coarse). From that day on I though my dad was the best shot in the world. 20 years later we were talking about it and he admitted he couldn"t even see the bug, let alone aim at it. He only fired a shot up in the tree to make me happy. Must have been one lucky shot or one unlucky cicada. My dad really is a good shot, though.
Mike Henry
Member
my gr.granddad(Earl) was 74 in 1974.My grandad(Bud)was 45.Earl lived next to a farm that had many migrant workers.He owned a 4 acre parcel still and had an old pony that he kept just to have one.One day he called Bud and wanted him to come walk the place as the horse kept getting out of the pasture.Bud stops to pick me up,Im 8. We go walk the perimeter of the place and find a few bunches of grass on the fence but nothing to short it out enough to make the fence dead.We got back to the house and Earl come out to see how the walk went.Bud reported that there hadnt been any short in the fence and all was good.Earl being of a cranky nature,slapped Bud and basicly called him a liar. Bud told me to get in the truck and stay there. I did but not untill I told Earl he was a mean old man for hitting my grandpa. He shook his fingure at me and said "I am a mean old man and dont you forget it.And your grandpa is my son and I will hit him if I see fit".I didnt hear the exchange that went on between them but Im sure I would have been educated on a few words.Funny thing is later Bud ran into the owner of the neighboring farm and asked if the horse was still getting out. The guy laughingly told Bud that the horse never "got out" at all. The migrant kids would go up early in the morning and get the horse out the gate and ride it around for awhile and knowing they couldnt return it without getting in trouble they would just turn it loose. Earl passed the next yr. Bud passed in 95. I miss my grandpa very much. He was an excellent teamster his whole life and he taught me so much. Someday I hope to have a pair of drafts that I can use as he did in his day.
Frank (N.Mi.)
Member
My Dad grew up in the country back in the forties. He had a Harley that he rode. One of his buddies rode also. One evening they were racing each other (as usual) and he was in front. The roads of course were dirt/gravel. He topped a hill doing about fifty and right smack dab in the middle of the road was a cow lying down! He never even had time to hit the brake, broadsided her, and launched into a low flight. Went about fifty feet or so and landed on his belly, skidded who knows how much further...He said at this point all this seems like it was taking a long time to happen but he knows dang well it didn't because when he got to his hands and knees and then began to stand up, the bike slammed into his back and face planted him all over again!! 
I asked him "what did you do then?" He replied "Well the cow didn't act hurt any so I got the bike started up again and we rode home--slower."
I asked him "what did you do then?" He replied "Well the cow didn't act hurt any so I got the bike started up again and we rode home--slower."Too many good memories .
I do remember I was about 10 years old I wanted this little tractor that looked like a Farmall H with a bucket loader on the front. showed it to Grand pa, and he said, "save your pennies."
We were buddies and he shared his horehound candy with me I liked non parells and he would get some of them for me ' But I always shared them with him.
I needed almost $ 3.00 and was saving all I could and he even help by paying me for dumb stuff like going and get the paper, or his slippers . till I had made all but 19 Cents of it. It was on a week that we were making our two week adventures to town. Pap said " bring your money I didn't have enough ' but Pap wanted to see if it was still there . So we went in and two of them were all that was there. I knew I couldn't buy it and was ready to leave when Pap said "Give me your money" I handed it to him in a paper sandwich bag folded like a little flat package. He paid for the tractor with his money out of his wallet.
I went home proud that I had my tractor I was so surprised that it happened that way . I was even more surprised that next time I went to put money in my little change bank It had all the money I gave him back in it . Love and miss My Grand Pa
I do remember I was about 10 years old I wanted this little tractor that looked like a Farmall H with a bucket loader on the front. showed it to Grand pa, and he said, "save your pennies."
We were buddies and he shared his horehound candy with me I liked non parells and he would get some of them for me ' But I always shared them with him.
I needed almost $ 3.00 and was saving all I could and he even help by paying me for dumb stuff like going and get the paper, or his slippers . till I had made all but 19 Cents of it. It was on a week that we were making our two week adventures to town. Pap said " bring your money I didn't have enough ' but Pap wanted to see if it was still there . So we went in and two of them were all that was there. I knew I couldn't buy it and was ready to leave when Pap said "Give me your money" I handed it to him in a paper sandwich bag folded like a little flat package. He paid for the tractor with his money out of his wallet.
I went home proud that I had my tractor I was so surprised that it happened that way . I was even more surprised that next time I went to put money in my little change bank It had all the money I gave him back in it . Love and miss My Grand Pa
My dad was born in 1898. Never saw his birth certificate. Nobody else did either. Trust. He came from SC when he found out Henry Ford was giving away money. His brothers came, too, earned some money and went back to farming. Dad was not too good a farmer. What he was good at was selling cars. Take two with tow bar down south. Come back on bus with tow bar in hand. Next week or so, do it again. When I was little he taught me how to stretch money at salvation army stores. Pocket watch he gave me came from pawn shop on michigan ave. in detroit. Also bought me electric drill, same place. I have both. Set of Ford wrenches in leatherette pouch. Think he wanted to set me up for things he never figured out how to do. Had I been older or him younger, believe we could have had car dealership. Found out many years later while we were skimpin',he was buying my brother a house down south. He went to work in a suit at Ford, very impressive. Never drove car to work because foundry dust would strip paint. Smoked them stinky cigars, never touched a drop of liquor, never missed church on sunday and wouldn't let you work on nothing sunday or make any noise. Gave Ford 40 years, got sugar and died about 5 years later. Kind of made up for not knowing my grandpas on either side. Talking to him for 5 minutes would be worth a million dollars. Dave
Eric in IL
Well-known Member
My dad passed away a year ago this past April. He was a farmer.
He was the kind of farmer that could do all of the other professions required to keep a small farm running.
He taught me how to drive a tractor, milk a cow, castarate a pig, respect my neighbors, bait a hook.
In 1995, he and I overhauled and painted the tractor that I learned to drive in 1966.
Dad, today I used "our" tractor to bale hay for the neighbors north of the home place. It ran good, but I need to replace the p.t.o. seal.
My love and respect for my dad grows with each passing day.
Happy Fathers Day, Dad !
He was the kind of farmer that could do all of the other professions required to keep a small farm running.
He taught me how to drive a tractor, milk a cow, castarate a pig, respect my neighbors, bait a hook.
In 1995, he and I overhauled and painted the tractor that I learned to drive in 1966.
Dad, today I used "our" tractor to bale hay for the neighbors north of the home place. It ran good, but I need to replace the p.t.o. seal.
My love and respect for my dad grows with each passing day.
Happy Fathers Day, Dad !
Billy Shafer
Well-known Member
James remember the wooden side boards the trucks use to have. On ours you could not tell if they were wood or metal for all the baling wire on them. Also remember the 2x4 holding the gear shift lever in gear.
Granddad told this on himself one time.
Walking back home one night from, I think a church social. He decided to cut thru the woods instead of going around. The woods got a little spooky so he decided to pick up the pace. Thats when he could hear someone troting behind him so he stopped and looked back. NO ONE THERE! Turned and started off again and soon heard the other footfalls close behind. After stopping a couple more times and finding no one he ran on home. Thats when he found that his tie had blown over his shoulder and was slapping the back of his jacket when he was troting along.
Walking back home one night from, I think a church social. He decided to cut thru the woods instead of going around. The woods got a little spooky so he decided to pick up the pace. Thats when he could hear someone troting behind him so he stopped and looked back. NO ONE THERE! Turned and started off again and soon heard the other footfalls close behind. After stopping a couple more times and finding no one he ran on home. Thats when he found that his tie had blown over his shoulder and was slapping the back of his jacket when he was troting along.
We sell tractor parts! We have the parts you need to repair your tractor - the right parts. Our low prices and years of research make us your best choice when you need parts. Shop Online Today.
Copyright © 1997-2024 Yesterday's Tractor Co.
All Rights Reserved. Reproduction of any part of this website, including design and content, without written permission is strictly prohibited. Trade Marks and Trade Names contained and used in this Website are those of others, and are used in this Website in a descriptive sense to refer to the products of others. Use of this Web site constitutes acceptance of our User Agreement and Privacy Policy TRADEMARK DISCLAIMER: Tradenames and Trademarks referred to within Yesterday's Tractor Co. products and within the Yesterday's Tractor Co. websites are the property of their respective trademark holders. None of these trademark holders are affiliated with Yesterday's Tractor Co., our products, or our website nor are we sponsored by them. John Deere and its logos are the registered trademarks of the John Deere Corporation. Agco, Agco Allis, White, Massey Ferguson and their logos are the registered trademarks of AGCO Corporation. Case, Case-IH, Farmall, International Harvester, New Holland and their logos are registered trademarks of CNH Global N.V.
Yesterday's Tractors - Antique Tractor Headquarters
Website Accessibility Policy