Monday evening, October 4th, ano 2

Corn and bean harvest, after an early start 2 weeks ago, the farmers  are sidelined with 3 days of on-again-off-again rains.  Retired after almost a 50 year career playing in the annual "Harvest Super Bowl", I find myself no longer giving it much thought.  My dad ran the Hales & Hunter feed mill in Mentone and long before I was legal, dad "hired" me to help unload corn during harvest.  One-lunger tractors pulled in with wagons that had a capacity of 200 bu...maybe.  They look like toys compared...well, lets not go there.  My school buddies whose families farmed, were riding shotgun on picker/shellers,  tractors ferrying wagons, manual shift grain trucks that were about the size of today's long bed F350.  At school, we eagerly compared notes waiting for last bell, eager to step back into the sacred role of seasonal harvest help.  Fathers, uncles, big brothers taught, mostly by example, moms and sisters took over chores, drove truck, delivered sandwiches and mason jars of hot cocoa wrapped in towels or thermoses of hot coffee...and they silently prayed their men be safe.  Every church had it's one-armed Sunday school teacher.  Snapping rolls and PTO shafts are indiscriminate as they are deadly.

bobb


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