My dad was born at the turn of the twentieth century in a house that stills stands on a section of land seven miles east of Pierpont, South Dakota. And, he brought the experiences of that time to life for me in his writings and in the things he taught me. It was a time when those in agriculture were realizing the awesome responsibility not only to feed themselves and their way of life, but to feed an entire nation. It was a time when machines were replacing horses, and the necessity to produce more more rapidly and consistently required every farmer to be both inventor and innovator just to survive.
Out of that time came massive steam machines that belched black smoke, and hissed, and whirred and chugged along on huge spiked iron wheels, steam engines to till the soil and drive the threshing machines, clear the land and move a nation into the twentieth century.
It was a need to pass on the meaning of that experience that prompted our visits to the farm of his youth, and his writings and pictures albums. A need that I didn't understand at the time when he would drag me to off once more on the hottest day of the summer to see the old steam engines belch black smoke and hiss and chug along on huge spiked iron wheels at the Cedar Falls Thresher Men's Field Days. But, it's a genuine need we all feel as we get older to stress upon those who follow that the times in which we lived were significant and important.
Oh, I tolerated the trips to Thresher Men's Field Days and even enjoyed them a bit, I guess, but how many times did I have to see a steam engine pulling a thirty-two bottom plow to know that the work was hard and dirty and hot and not a whole lot more efficient than than using horses to do the same job. I was missing the point . There was a lot more there than just a bunch of old men in bib overalls trying to relive old times. There was a message there and I was missing it.
When I went to work, many of the jobs I got were on farms. I detassled corn and bailed hay mostly. I was growing up. I began to understand what it all meant. Even though I was a "town kid," I began to see the big picture, and I envied my schoolmates who lived on farms, and visited them when I could. The idea of living and working on a farm drew me in.
My mother grew up on a farm not too far from the Mississippi River in Illinois. My grandfather passed away long before I was born, but my grandmother ran the farm with the aide of several hired hands. Later, my cousin, Keith, who is sixteen years older than me took the farm over, where he and his wife still live. He no longer runs the farm but leases the land to the Cargill Corporation.
My family has held the farm for over 100 years. The barn still stands on a little hill not far from the house.My wife and I visited the farm in 2011, and it is still a beautiful site to see.
On our trip through Wisconsin, Illinois, and Iowa, we were amazed by the vast rolling fields of corn and soybeans, now run by huge corporate farms. The changes are amazing. It's happening
all across the country. Our country has a huge appetite!
Today I am substitute teaching at Chico High School in Chico, California, where I will be working with high school students in the agriculture program at the school. Most of the students are members of the Future Farmers of America program. Unlike me, so long ago, I know they are getting it.
