crowbar032
Gold Member
- Joined
- Jan 19, 2012
- Messages
- 341
- Location
- Moores Hill, Indiana
- Tractor
- MF 150, TO-35, John Deere 5065E, Caterpiller 953 track loader, NH LS170 Skid Steer
Dad bought the MF150 when I was a kid and I nicknamed it red. There's always been a little play in the steering so that if you turn it too sharp the power steering pump screams. At the time, the exhaust manifold was broke up high and had a straight pipe bolted on it. When I was a little older, Dad would bring fertilizer home from the co-op in one of those spreader buggies. He had the tobacco field already plowed and lightly disked up. After he spread the fertilizer, he would let me take the little 35 or the truck and pull the buggy to the house while he disked in the fertilizer. When I was done with whatever he had asked me to do, I'd stand on the front porch and listen. I always liked hearing red bellow pulling that disk. Dad was too far out in the field so I couldn't see, but I could always picture him on that tractor in his ball cap and half unbuttoned shirt, partially obscured in a following cloud of dirt with red bellowing away. When he would get to the end of the field, sometimes the tires would dig into the soft dirt and the power steering would scream. I could picture him (still can), clear as day, cranking the wheel hard to straighten it out and drop the disk on the next row. This all happened after he'd worked all day. He maybe grabbed a sandwich on the way out to the field. Usually when he was done, it was dark or very close to it. He'd park the tractor in the barn walk up to the porch, shake off some dust, and say Ohhh, Jeffrey boy I'm getting too old for this ****? then crack up laughing. He said that every time he spent a day on the tractor. He enjoyed it to no end. After he retired and the tobacco buyout happened, he and mom signed the farm over to me. I got into making and selling hay. I got a different tractor but kept red and modified the name to old red? The new tractor was 4x4 and had a canopy. Dad thought that was the greatest thing ever. Dad would always mow the hay. Raking generally was too fast and hurt his back with the bumps on slightly uneven ground. He also did the round baling and drove the tractor/baler/wagon while I or the neighbor stacked squares. Couldn't keep him off the tractor, and he always told me he enjoyed it. Winter 2016-2017 he kept saying how much he was so very ready to make hay and plant tomatoes. Then he had a stroke and a brain aneurysm in April 2017. I did the first of the hay with the neighbor and kept Dad informed of number of bales and problems and such. He worked so very hard through rehab and finally made it back home. I managed to get the garden out so we had green beans and tomatoes all summer. I'd pick green beans and bring them in so he and mom could start working them up for the freezer. The last square bales I made, I had a neighbor lined up to drive the tractor to bale. He got held up at work and some family dropped by. Dad, on a cane and less than month after rehab, insisted he could drive the tractor. Mom and I did everything we could to talk him out of it. While I went in to get a drink of water, he put on his work boots, his big floppy sun hat, and was putting in his ear filters. When I went back out and found him, he was trying to climb on the tractor. At that point I gave up, and boosted him up. He tucked his cane and water jug behind the seat and off we went. I stacked, he drove, and 250 bales later I helped him down and he went to the porch with a big smile. I was pretty aggravated at him when he insisted on that, but I'm glad he got to do it now. It was the last time he was on a tractor.
Dad died on October 28, 2017. I'll never be able to do anything around the farm without thinking of how much Dad enjoyed it. It really didn't matter what we were doing either, he just liked being on the farm. He'll always be with me in that respect, but it will be very hard for a while. The good memories will carry me through.
Dad died on October 28, 2017. I'll never be able to do anything around the farm without thinking of how much Dad enjoyed it. It really didn't matter what we were doing either, he just liked being on the farm. He'll always be with me in that respect, but it will be very hard for a while. The good memories will carry me through.
