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The story of the old fashioned farmer.
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Posted by old fashioned farmer on November 07, 2001 at 10:33:12 from (164.107.3.53):
I guess after all the messages I've spurred and written here on tractor talk, it's only right for you gentlemen to know my story. I'm not what most would define as a "farmer" and I'm certainly not the aged great grandad type man that some may have assumed me to be from my posted messages. The fact of the matter is I'm only 20 years old, in college, and do my farming on weekends and in the summer. My story begins like this. I grew up living beside my grandpa's farm. It is only 130 acres of tough red and clay soil. He's raised wheat, corn, hay, and cattle there since the 1930's. He went from horses to tractors, threshers to combines, and corn binders to corn pickers. Of course the newest piece of equipment there is a JD 40 self propelled combine but you get my point. Well, by the time I was born in 1981 my grandpa had been farmin for years and was near the end of his farmin days. So, during my younger years I watched. Sure I got to ride on the tractors once in a while but for the most part I had to stay behind that fence at the end of the field and watch. I did that for years. It's like living in a candy store and not being able to eat any of the candy. It really hurt. Well, finally the day came when I was old enough to help. Things had changed by this time. Grandpa had grown too old to do the work himself so he made a choice. He decided to lease all his crop fields to a local farmer who leases fields all over our county. So there I was again. Plenty old enough to help on the farm but restricted to watching once again. Of course I did get to do a little. I was permitted to help fix fence so my grandpa's cattle wouldn't get out. Unfortunately the definition of help wasn't what you'd think. Grandpa didn't really want the help so I really just got to stand in the hot August sun and stand watching him fix it. That hurt worse. I guess it's just human nature to want the things we cannot have so years later I decided to do something myself. The good Lord blessed me with connections through church and school that got me seasonal jobs in hay and tobacco. Finally in 1999 I had enough to by the 1944 Farmall A that I mentioned earlier. I spent that summer restoring it. Finally, I had my key to unlock the doors to the farm. It's taken a lot of pushing on my part but I've gradually edged my way into working various things on my grandpa's farm. Of course the other farmer does most of the stuff but I do what I can, working around college. But during the years that I've been doing this I've developed a respect and appreciation for farming, the equipment, and the Great men who take on this burdensome way of life. My life consists of two loves now that comprise the better part of my life: God and farming. All of the sights and smells that I described to you earlier were things that I've experienced in recent years. I can't explain how that affects a person. It is an experience that cannot be described eloquently in any number of words. Hopefully I can someday take over the everyday operations of my grandpa's farm and continue the business that he's kept alive for the last 60 odd years. This is my story. Thank you for your time and attention. God bless.
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