remembrance

Today we are back on the move heading toward the ranch.  Tonight we are in a suburb of Columbus Ohio on the West side of the beltway.

As we drove through the farm lands of western PA and northern OH we passed by several Amish farms.  We saw several fields of harvested wheat that were bundled and shocked which I don't remember seeing for many years.  I'm sure that they were cut with a horse drawn reaper/binder and then put into the shocks waiting for the thrashing.

This reminded me of perhaps 65 years ago and my first paid job.  I don't remember the pay but perhaps 50 cents per day, I don't remember.  A couple of summers I helped a neighbor, Mr. Netzer (not sure of the spelling), once in putting up loose hay after he had cut and cured it in the field and then raked it into piles in the field.  Then I helped him pitch the hay onto the wagon until there was a bunch there and then my job was to climb onto the wagon and tromp it down and compact it so we could load the wagon more fully.  While I was on the wagon I would drive the team to the next pile and when the wagon was full he let me drive them to the barn.  He had a rope and pulley system with a big fork that would pull big bunches of the hay into the hay loft.  He would unhitch the team from the wagon and hitch them to the rope to pull the hay into the loft.  My job at that time was to be in the loft and stomp the hay again to compact it so we could get the whole field into the loft.  Then it was back to the field for another load.

The next year he plowed that field and planted wheat.  When it was ripe he cut it with a reaper/binder and then ask me to assist in building the shocks which I did after he gave me instructions on how to build a proper one.  Then when the thrasher came I helped again tossing the shocks onto the wagon making sure the heads were toward the center of the wagon so if any grain shook loose it was on the wagon and could be scooped up with a shovel.  We had to be alert when picking up the shocks as snakes liked to curl up under them away from the hot sun.  With a wagon full of grain we then hauled it to the thrasher and pitched the bundles onto the loading belt.  This was probably in the early 50s when I was just starting my teen years.

Enough of the past now tomorrow we head west again for a night in Casey, IL.