The True Crop

If this was a sponsored blog, today's post would be sponsored by Kleenex.  Doug has always been a very gifted writer, I think most of you will identify with his perfectly worded sentiments.  We each owe a great deal to Juniper Dairy and the men who's spirits embodied it.  Grab a tissue and enjoy!

From Douglas:

I have been slow and even hesitant to post on this blog, not because I have nothing to say but because the farm has meant so much to me. Juniper dairy has always been more than just another farm I believe it is so special because of the two great men that ran it. Some might say that the farm failed, but I wonder, has there ever been a more successful farm? I believe that milk was a byproduct and that you and I were the true crop.

So I would like to share with you a few things that I learned on the farm from two great men and how they still help me.

Broken things.

If you are like me then I am sure that you have at one point or another complained about the broken things on the farm or the equipment that no longer works quite right. I have since learned to be grateful for those broken things because they represent fathers and bosses who were willing to let me work and learn.

Above is a picture of a very familiar auger on the farm. (It is not the latest model but no auger has ever looked so good) What many of you do not realize and don’t see is that the fly wheel on the top has been snapped in half.

It was early one summer morning and I was out doing the morning chores. One of my assignments that morning was to move the auger from one grain bin to another. I gave the auger a real hard tug to get it out of the first bin, as the auger had been set in motion I soon learned how slippery the end could be. Needless to say I lost hold of it and watched helplessly as the heavy motor pile drove the end into the ground and the fly wheel snapped. What a start to a beautiful morning and I now had to go explain to Dad what I had done. I found him at the mill and told him simply that I had broken the auger. In classic Dad fashion he asked if it was the fly wheel that I had broken. I confirmed that it was and he off handedly mentioned ‘they can get away from you pretty easily can’t they.’ He then said “notice how I knew exactly where it had broken.” 

I then headed off to feed the cows I needed to move some hay and needed to pull the ford ten wheeler up the edge of the hill to get some hay, as most of you know the ford’s brakes consisted of turning the key off at the right moment, which I did. The truck then fell out of gear though and I began rolling down the hill past the grain mill. I tried mashing it back into gear but was unsuccessful as I rapidly gained speed. I tried pumping the brakes but to no avail. As I came to the barn I then had to decide if I should try to get on the dirt road at that speed or take out the fence between the manure pit and the evaporation pond. Not having faith in my ability to maneuver onto the dirt road with no brakes at that speed I decided that the fence must go. As I rounded the barn I saw a new, tall pile of sand that looked like a good runaway truck barrier to me so I drove straight into it. After wiping the sweat from my brow I then proceeded to explain to my dad what I had done to the truck. Memory fails me now but I do know that there was one more thing that I broke that morning and had to tell my father about. (I feel like it involved one of the tractors that I tried to move the hay with but can’t remember for sure.) And I remember thinking as I headed to explain the last one to my Dad, “I have broken all this and I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

Dad and Ross knew full well that letting us inexperienced kids work would result in many mistakes and some of them costly. But I firmly believe that raising good men and women was way more important to them than a business was. After breakfast Dad then had me in the shop fixing the fly wheel as you will notice in the picture that follows it has been welded all the way across. Ross walked into the shop as Dad was showing me how to fix it and just laughed when he saw what I had done. They not only gave us a chance to work and make mistakes they taught us how to fix them. This I think relates to every aspect of our lives.

Young in Juniper

From Juel:

I recall long ago Ross and I going for firewood down to the cedars by the rest area.  I was driving the white dodge and I believe Ross was in a blue Chevy.  The Dodge had a full ½ turn of play in the steering wheel.   Anyhow, I’m not sure how this happened (Being as how we always drove at a reasonable speed): but we came to a light rise and fall in the road (well as a remember it more of a cow trail)  and somehow the front end of my pickup came off the ground and when it came down again my front wheels had turned.  I was all over that road turning that big steering wheel from right to the left, over and over again, struggling to keep the front of the pickup in front of me!   Which I managed to do eventually.  Ross was behind me laughing hysterically (my story) at my dilemma. 

Oh to be young in Juniper!  

It appears I should have given David lessons on driving.  I did Jami; and it has served her well over the years.  I know; because I have heard her stories!

Udder Chaos!

Straight from my journal... and everyone knows you can't lie in your journal.  Haha... wish I would have written more about my farm experiences and less about my romantic obsession of the week...

Added commentary is in parenthesis.

May 29, 2000-Memorial Day

Fed my cows at 6 am, then went to the flat and Dad and I moved 3 lines and set one line over the fence. We were waiting for Ross to come and pick up the line, but after waiting a few minutes, we got a little bored so we moved one of Alberto's lines (Ahh, yes, farm bored).  Boy!  That was fun!  NOT!  It was mud up to about my knee!  Ross finally got there and while we were picking up the line we got stuck, so Aaron had to walk about a mile to get another pick-up and a chain to pull us out.  In the mean time, the rest of us walked about 1/4 mile with hammers, pliers, and fence posts to build a gate.  Good times.  We made our gate and got the line all picked up, so I'm thinkin' "Yeah! I'm goin' home!"  So I sat on the tool box and took off my boots and socks.  (This is where things get interesting.)

Well... there had been a  cow get out through our gate.  So they (Dad and Ross) decided they should probably put it back in.  First they were chasing the cow on foot, running down the fence line yelling at the cow.  I thought it would go right in the gate (like every other cow we'd ever chased-sheesh... you think a girl would learn from experience).  Well, obviously the cow had another plan and she took off.  So, Ross got in the pick-up and continued the chase.

Well... Brad and I were sitting on top of the big tool box in the back.  Now, I don't know if Ross forgot that we were back there or if he really just didn't care (I tell myself the first and it helps me sleep better at night).  But off we went... swerving back and forth, slowing down and suddenly speeding up again, bouncing over sagebrush, uneven ground and what felt like small sink-holes.  There was more than one occasion when Brad and I wondered if we would make it home alive.  We were holding on for dear life.  Every time we turned we prayed that we would stay on the toolbox.  When we swerved left Brad had white knuckles and silver-dollar eyes.  One violent jerk of the steering wheel and we were suddenly turning right which meant Brad could relax a little and it was my turn in panic mode with the wide eyes and white knuckles.  Back and forth it went.  (These 5-10 minutes felt like hours... I think Brad will agree.)  Finally we hit a bump that knocked Brad off the toolbox and into the bed of the truck.  Normally, I would have helped him.  But, since my own life was in jeopardy, he was on his own.

Every time we slowed down a bit, poor Brad would try to make it back to the tool box, but just as he would get up we would speed up and he would jerk backwards or we would swerve and he would hit one of the sides of the pick-up.  Finally, he decided we were never going to slow down, so he decided to just go for it, naturally, just then, Ross slammed on the breaks and Brad once again hit the side of the pick-up.  But this time, he landed in a corner and decided that he would just stay there.

The corner looked pretty cozy... pretty safe.  Safer than the toolbox.  So, I let go and let myself fall into the back of the truck.  Unfortunately, I landed on a chainsaw and my bare foot hit a roll of barbed wire from previously mentioned fencing project.  So my little toe was all cut up.  But like I said, the corner represented safety, so when I got to one, I stayed there.

The crazy chase wasn't enough to scare the cow through the gate, but I guess she decided the fence would be OK.  So she went right through the middle of it.  (Cows!)  One more fence to fix before we could go home...

After the cow was safely on the inside, and fences mended, I asked Brad if he wanted back on the tool box.  He shook his head, a definate "NO!"  However, Aaron joined and made a third passenger, Brad decided the tool box would be okay if he was the middle passenger.  We decided we had just experienced something far better than a carnival ride (though neither one of us wanted a second ride... ever).

LUCY! You got some 'splainin' to do...

From Ross:

Who remembers the white Dodge?

This incident happened in August 1987 as I recall. We will need some help from David Little to verify the date and some other important detail that I, to this date, have not been privy to.

As Sanford and I were running the combines (95H) harvesting the wheat on the “Big Field” on this particular August afternoon, we could see some unusual activity happening at the dairy.

The Dodge pickup had pulled out a short while earlier headed toward the flat, which was normal and expected. Then as I recall, the Massey pulled out headed in the same direction, followed a short time later by the K-8 winch truck.

As Sanford and I had both pulled up to a truck to dump our loads at about the same time we mentioned to each other what we had seen, and had seen the same things.

Sanford said that although we didn't know what was going on, “at least no one had been killed or else someone would have been up to get us.”

That was good enough for me, and we went on cutting grain.

Now this is where the details get sketchy to me and possibly in need of some clarification. Apparently as David was driving the pickup down the road in his usual “safe manner”, he entered the curve by Merrill Nelsons well at an unsafe speed, to which he lost control and rolled the vehicle, I’m not sure how many times. There were no injuries (that were admitted to) in the incident.

I would like to know just what happened sometime before I die, David and Ben.

Juniper Transit Authority

From Juel:

HAY, anybody know how many people you can put in the front of Old Blue?

From Crystal:

Rides back home to the farm were often uncomfortable.  Getting there, there was plenty of room for all to ride in the cab or on the bed, but once the trucks were full we all had to fit somewhere.  At the end of one crop of hay we sent home a truck that was not quite full and Doug and I, just kids, were thrilled when Dad said that we could ride on the top.  Before taking off Dad reminded us again that before we crossed under the highway we needed to get in the hole.  I remember thinking, ‘well, we’re not stupid.’ 

Douglas and I sat at the front of the truck enjoying the breeze and talking and laughing.  We were completely distracted.  All the sudden Doug yelled something and laid on his back.  I looked forward to see a cement wall coming fast toward my face, mere feet away.  I laid back just in time and watched as the cement roof of the underpass sped past a few inches above the end of my nose.  We were just kids, I remember giggling with Douglas as we rode underneath and again as we recounted the story to my father, who must have been sick to the stomach.

I recently reminded my father of this story and mentioned that my memories were probably distorted and that the underpass was probably not as close to my face as I remember it being.  He told me that the reason we stack our trucks as high as we do is because we cannot fit one more row of bales on.  I don’t think that wall could have been more than 6 inches above us. 

(Editor's note: And they think farming is unsafe for children... pssshh) :)

From Jami:

While old blue is a fine choice in transportation.  The 10-wheeler offers more comfortable, more luxurious, more passenger area.  As a kid I loved to ride on the overshot with my little fingers curled around the front of the worn planks.  Clearly, there is more space when not loaded with 7 (right?) layers of hay, however I can assure you, this fine piece of antique farm machinery could haul just as many bodies from the field as it did to the field.  Seating configurations were creative to say the least.  

I recall one day in particular we were riding back from the flat, there must have been 10-12 passengers in this 3 passenger vehicle.  Dad drove, I was in the middle, and I believe Doug and Brad were in the cab with us.  I'm not exactly sure who all was with us that day (Joe, Sam, Aaron, Steve, Jim, John, seems like maybe Tim that day...anyway), but it seems like we had a passenger on each running board (possibly two), and 4-5 boys on the hood of the truck   What's more impressive is that Dad handled all 3 pedals himself-which was not always the case in a crowded truck...lol.  I think I was in charge of the stick shift... teamwork folks, teamwork.  

Leave a comment for all to enjoy... what are your most memorable "transportation" moments???

Also, if anyone has a pic of old blue, send 'er my way... I'd love to have a visual!

The Girl Made of Steel

Hey everyone!  Thanks so much for the positive feedback.  I am really excited about this blog and can't wait to hear from you all!  

Jerica sent me this story today.  I was amazed at how tough she was that day, but reading and thinking about it now as an ER nurse gives the story a whole new angle for me.  One of the ER docs I work with talks about the "overall sign" meaning if you see a guy come in with muddy boots, dirty overalls (thus... overall sign), and calloused hands-you gotta take him seriously-this is not a guy who comes in for frivolous stuff.  Not only do you have to take him seriously, you have to dig deep, this is a guy who will down play everything!  It kills me the stuff that comes to the ER by ambulance every day, I always think "REALLY?  My parents wouldn't have even taken me to the doctors office!"  So it makes me laugh that Jerica-run over by a ginormous truck-has to wait in the pick-up for the rest of us to finish picking up the hay! Definately a positive "overall sign".  

Enjoy!

From Jerica:

During the summer of '98, we were down in the hay fields going around to pick up the last of hay bales. Joe and I were riding on the running board of the old Ford truck half full of hay with a few people on top and Catie was driving. For some reason, I thought it would be fun to keep leaning back while holding onto the door/side mirror of the truck. I had done it a few times and each time Catie had told me to quite leaning back and get in the cab with her. We were turning at the end of a field to go put the hay loader onto the side of the truck. Right when we turned I leaned back and lost my grip. I remember falling off laughing and as I was laughing I saw both sets of dually tires coming right for me. I thought I should role to my left and try to avoid it but I couldn't move so all four tires came on top of me from my right hip to my left shoulder. The truck had stopped and people were yelling trying to figure out what had happened. I looked up and saw people peering over the top of the truck. Joe had told me not to move but I just got up and started crying for my dad. Joe had said he thought I was dead and it was a traumatizing experience for him. I'm pretty sure it was that way for a lot of us that day. My dad grabbed me and brought me to the pickup where I had to stay there until they were all done. Brad and Doug were at the pickup too and started yelling at me. I was crying but no tears were coming. I couldn't believe what had just happened. 

When we got back to the dairy, my dad put me in the Suburban and went to tell my mom to take me into the hospital. I wanted Catie to come with us (of all people, the one who ran me over). When we got to the hospital, we went in for x-rays and it killed me to lay on my right side for the x-ray. Turned out, it was just a fracture on my pelvis. No other injuries. I stayed in the hospital for about a week and I was told to stay on the crutches for at least two weeks. When I got home, I lasted a few days on the crutches and decided I could walk without them. By that next Sunday I was crutch free but limping. As far as I know, today I am functioning normal :)