Post war story

Posted by Dave Sherburne, NY on April 08, 2016 at 15:36:47 from (172.79.35.131):

I was going through some family pictures and stuff last week and found a receipt for a team of horses $200 for the pair in 1948 One black and one Chestnut. I was born in 1942, and remember going to the farm about 30 miles south of here to look at the team before the purchase. It was a really nice farm, turned off the road into the driveway crossed a small stream before getting to the buildings. Seller delivered them a couple days later. The black was the older horse and gentle as can be the chestnut was a little high strung. We had a barn with a ramp going up into the haymow where the team would pull the wagon then the black was unhitched and brought back out to pull the rope for the big fork that dropped down from the track in the peak of the barn to unload the wagon. My father was good at stacking the hay on the wagon, four big fork fulls and almost all of the hay was in the mow. One summer my older cousins were helping, and one of them was backing the wagon out of the barn and dropped one wheel off the side of the ramp. They were far enough out so the horses could go forward and they took off, heading back past the house to the field. My grandfather was sitting outside the house and saw it all. He jumped up and stepped right in front of the team grabbed their bridles and yelled "WHOA YA SONS OF BRITCHES" and they stopped right there. The rack was a little askew so they put the rack back on the wagon and headed back to the field to finish up. My younger brother would take the horses over the field to the spring for a drink of water when they had been working and somehow he got tangled up in the reins and the team just kept going to the spring to get their water. He got himself untangled and when they finished drinking he brought them back. I never was big enough to harness of unharness the team. My father used to shoe the horses himself. The black "Nig" was no problem, but the chestnut had to be watched closely. One time after the nail was driven in but before it was clinched "Prince" yanked his foot backed and almost ripped my father's pants off, did quite a job on them. In 1951, my father bought a brand new Ford 8N tractor, and the horses left the farm. Forgot the time my father was mowing hay with the team, and mowed into a bee's nest. guess what happened next. That was still the good old days.

Replies:

• Re: Post war story oldtanker 07:35:23 04/09/16 (0)
• Re: Post war story 37Chief 23:56:41 04/08/16 (0)
• Re: Post war story Dean 18:01:24 04/08/16 (0)
• Re: Post war story Bob Bancroft 16:10:55 04/08/16 (3)
  • Re: Post war story Leroy 06:24:20 04/09/16 (0)
  • Re: Post war story flying belgian 17:17:55 04/08/16 (1)
    • Re: Post war story Dick2 20:28:00 04/08/16 (0)

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