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Ryder

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cowboy44":350aotg2 said:
Any body on here old enough to remember what a Roe Binder was to put up hay with and what process it took tp get the hay to hay yard. Probably have to go back to early 1950's or earlier to have used one, it was before the square balers
When I was a kid we had a row binder used to cut and bundle corn.The whole stalk. Someone had to walk behind it and catch a bundle as it kicked them out and throw them out to the side so they wouldn't be in the way of the tractor on the next pass. The stalks were green and the weather was hot. Those stalks would eat you alive. I think that may be the hardest work I have ever done. I would rather haul hay any day.

Didn't know you could row bind hay.
 

brownmule

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growing up we had an old ford tractor, it was used for brush hoging fields. my grandpa plowed the gardens w/ a big old draft horse..always..i was 6 mos old when i came to live w/them i was riding those horses as soon as i could set up by my self..i remember setting up there so high off the ground hanging on the hames knobs ( big brass balls) that were bigger than my hand , the motion of the horse as she stepped, back and forth... and the smell of the mare... i still love the smell of an horse.. every now an then i just have to give are only short ear a hug,, and take a big sniff lol... ok ok now you know i a little weird ..LOL my grandpa use to tell me "i must of been born in a barn w/ a horse turd in my pocket " LOL but so many great memories , city kids will never know... Rose
 

flaboy-

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Another hay recollection. Grandpa and dad cut hay on shares for the Von Bulow ranch. My brother, mom, and myself were the slave labor. Square balers, old run down tractors and equipment, hot burning sun, equipment breaking, going home at 9-10-11PM, eating cereal for dinner, getting up the next morning and going to school, coming home after school for an hour, going out and doing it again and again. Yeah, I remember my earliest memory was driving a 2 ton flat bed that I couldn't reach the pedals on. My dad would get it going and I would steer it while they stacked the hay on it. I remember falling off the top of hay trucks and wagons. I remember my dad yelling at me for not handling the bales properly or dropping them on their sides rather than flat. I remember him teaching me how to stack hay on the trailer or truck. I remember him showing me how to us all of my body to lift hay instead of just my arms.

I remember being so tired, so hot, so mad, so embarrassed, so hurt, and so stupid. Yeah, I remember those good times.
 

stocky

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Ryder, yes, they were the Surge milking machines with the strap. Slide the strap over the cow, put the metal clip through the hole, slide the 5 gallon milker under the cow and hang it onto the metal bar on the strap and then attach the teat cups. With all that process, there was no way to ever get kicked---lol. Also, if you ever even thought about buying a new milking system, there were 6 or 8 milking machine companies hounding you every day to buy theirs. Surge, Delaval, Perfection, and others I cant remember. Now, I dont even know where a store is.
 

badaxemoo

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Before I was big enough to be of much use I liked carrying a canning jar with lemonade and a little bundle of cookies in wax paper out to the far end of the farm to my Grandpa when he was cultivating corn or beans. It made me feel useful.

I liked listening for the M-H 44 if Grandpa was over the hill. I'm an Oliver man, but I've always liked that throaty Massey sound.

A few years ago, Dad got the 44 running and took it out for a spin down the road to "run some gas through her". When I heard that distinctive sound coming back into the building spot from behind the grove, for a split second, I expected to see my Grandfather pulling in with the spreader or the cultivator.

I got pretty choked up. I sure miss him.
 

TLCfromARK

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I remember getting up in the morning and feeding the cows at the house before school and then after school feeding at the "farm" where the main herd was.
I remember having to feed a few times by myself ( brothers gone or sick ), tieing the steering wheel, putting it in compound, used the choke to set the speed, crawling out the window into the bed and throwing out hay.
I remember hauling hay in the hottest days of summer, hand digging out a little spring by the barn and drinking out of it, no ice water around. Stacking square bales in the barn up to the rafters, no loft, having to built layers and make two or threes throws to top out because I was too small to toss a bale all the way up.
I remember being told ( a storm was coming ), " If this hay gets wet boys you'd better give your hearts to God because your butts are going to be mine"
I remember hauling hay for other people for a penny a bale, they furnished the truck, and making as much as $10 a day and thinking I was rich.

Lots of good memories, mostly hard work, but you slept good at night.
;-)
 

Lammie

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backhoeboogie":262hhy0h said:
Throwing the hay off of the loft in winter was a whole lot better than putting them up in the loft during the July and August heat. There were no round bales in the 60's.

Earlier memories was when they'd put the truck in granny gear and my job was to keep the truck going straight between the rows of hay. No power steering. The front tire would hit a gopher mound and I had to hang on for deer life. My legs weren't long enough to reach any pedals and I'd have to sit up on my knees, feet in the seat. When we got to the end of the row they'd grab the wheel and turn the truck through the window. Then I would get the wheel again.

I remember daddy driving cattle across the rice canals in Jefferson County and I was on the saddle in front of him. Those are some of my first memories.

My paternal Grandaddy passed on in '85. My Dad passed on in '93. I should have paid more attention to them and their cattle knowledge in my youth.

I just remember my dad was always in a really bad mood when it came time to bale hay. We just tried to stay away from him.
 

Texas Gal

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Remember the old hay hooks? One of my older brothers was trying to scare me by pretending to stab my hand with one but he "missed" and got me. I thought my daddy was gonna whip his a$$ nine ways to sunday because we had to stop working, doctor my hand with turpentine, and, of course, then explain to my momma how it happened. Ah, fond memories. :D
 

backhoeboogie

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VanC":1culn4hm said:
Texas Gal":1culn4hm said:
Remember the old hay hooks?

Sure do. Felt like it was a permanent extension of my hand sometimes.

I've got several of them hanging in the shed. Kind of a keepsake. Some are store bought and some are blacksmith made or home made. I've got Dad's and Grandaddy's favorites. Both still have the wood handles on them and I wouldn't use them.

Got my great Grandaddy's crosscut saw hanging in the living room. Got my Grandaddy's draw knife too. I have actually used it to peel bark on cedar logs a few times.

My most treasure possession is the old dominoe sets. I managed to get both Grandaddy's and Dad's ivory ones too. I have never seen another ivory set like Dad's. There is not telling how many hours we have all sat around playing 42 with those dominoe sets back in the 60's and 70's. When we got rained out in the fields in winter, we played 42. I wasn't very old but if there were only 3 people, I got to be the 4th. It was sort of coming of manhood thing I thought back then.
 
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Wewild

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backhoeboogie":3p9i23s7 said:
VanC":3p9i23s7 said:
Texas Gal":3p9i23s7 said:
Remember the old hay hooks?

Sure do. Felt like it was a permanent extension of my hand sometimes.

I've got several of them hanging in the shed. Kind of a keepsake. Some are store bought and some are blacksmith made or home made. I've got Dad's and Grandaddy's favorites. Both still have the wood handles on them and I wouldn't use them.

Got my great Grandaddy's crosscut saw hanging in the living room. Got my Grandaddy's draw knife too. I have actually used it to peel bark on cedar logs a few times.

We had a wood handle hay hook for the longest and then maybe it broke and someone put a metal handle on it. It's gone.

I got the cross cut saw that I use to display on the wall of my log cabin before I moved. I got the draw knife too. Got some of his single trees (metal and wood), single row plows, and harnesses.

I got the scales they use to weigh cotton and then "name" people or so some pickers called it.

Thanks.
 

Crowderfarms

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I can vividly remember the hired hands from hauling square bales, Tobacco, and Cattle, when I was a Boy. Still remember most of em's names too.

On one particular occaision, my Uncle sent "Willie" out to count and check Cows. He took the 140 Tractor, that was supposed to be mine and flipped it on a Hill.Luckily did not hurt him or the Tractor. My Uncle was so darn mad it made Ol' Willie turn White.

Then there was Ike. A huge colored man. Me and Ike were dispatched to take down an old cross fence, to clear up for a new one. After pulling staples out of Locust posts all day, and rolling up wire, me and Ike were buddies.I remember telling Uncle Tom that Ike was a nice Feller. He bout died.Told me Ike was a N-gg-- and you never trusted one. I think it was my first lesson in Bigotry, and dislike. I remember a sort of crushed feeling. But it never stuck with me, and him and I were always friends, until the old feller died.

The White folks that worked the farm and lived in the Tenant House were the biggest thieves ever created. They stole Hams out of the Smoke House and beef out of the Freezer.Stole Tools, Fuel, whatever they could get their hands on.They did not stay for very long. My Uncle burned the House down while they were in Town. I shot their Dog cause it was always growling at me and tried to bite me.

One other that sticks out in my mind was a colored feller named "Bones" His specialty was head 'Baccer Suckerer. His real name was Henry. I was always intrigued that "Bones" had Blue Eyes. I was quickly told by another Uncle, their had been something in the "Wood Pile".

I can think of quite a few more Characters, but I'd hate to bore ya'll.
 

backhoeboogie

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Crowderfarms":4094asyv said:
I can think of quite a few more Characters, but I'd hate to bore ya'll.

Heck. I was getting into it. You had me thinking of some of the old fellows around Grandaddy's place.

One in particular. There was a black man who lived up the road from Grandaddy who would come by and sit a spell on the porch. They'd chat about everything. He never came in the house. He wouldn't come in no matter how many times he was invited in. He was sort of well to do but he never would go in the house. I hadn't thought about him in years. Wonder if he is still living.
 

Ryder

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backhoeboogie":1q9pyy9f said:
Crowderfarms":1q9pyy9f said:
I can think of quite a few more Characters, but I'd hate to bore ya'll.

Heck. I was getting into it. You had me thinking of some of the old fellows around Grandaddy's place.

One in particular. There was a black man who lived up the road from Grandaddy who would come by and sit a spell on the porch. They'd chat about everything. He never came in the house. He wouldn't come in no matter how many times he was invited in. He was sort of well to do but he never would go in the house. I hadn't thought about him in years. Wonder if he is still living.
I'm not bored either. Helps to know that I'm not the only one to remember how things were.

My daddy's main man was Hemmie aka Bear. My mother said if Daddy hadn't been white and Hemmie black she would have thought they were brothers as close as they were.

Hemmie wasn't full time. He was hired when an extra hand was needed. He lived 4 or 5 miles away by road and maybe half that through the woods.
He couldn't drive and one of us would go pick him up and take him home. Some cold winter mornings he wouldn't wait for us to come get him. He would walk through the woods through high wet grass and show up just a little after daylight and just pitch in helping finish milking, cleaning the lot, and whatever.

My mother would fix eggs, grits, biscuits and butter, bacon, syrup, and cream for breakfast. So he would come early so he could have breakfast WITH us.

Hemmie was never known to be sick. My mother asked him how he stayed so healthy. He said he drank a little beer, made a tea out of some kind of root if he had an upset stomach or felt he was coming down with something, and that he got on his knees and talked to the Lord every night.

I miss those days.
 

T&S Ranch

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There were no round bales in the 60's. [/quote]

There were round bales in the 60's they were just the size of small square bales. I believe alice chalmers
 
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Wewild

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Crowderfarms":2c29jxjv said:
I can vividly remember the hired hands from hauling square bales, Tobacco, and Cattle, when I was a Boy. Still remember most of em's names too.

I can think of quite a few more Characters, but I'd hate to bore ya'll.

Good post. Me too.

Willie Jay was the go to guy at the "home place". He was a big black man that was as gentle as a lamb to me anyway. He liked to drink a little shine and shoot the 12 ga JC Whitney that granddad gave him at the discarded cars along the road that lead toward the rest of the houses that the workers lived in. I can recall the holes in the cars and asked dad about it. He said Willie Jay was just drunk. I wondered later if it was a form of crowd control.

Toad was the patriarchal fellow and his house is listed in the historical records though I never new him. He also live at the "home place".

Hop was another father figure on the place I live now back when cotton was in favor here.. I can recall when we tore the old house down. It was the last of many here.

Bang was there for 6 or so years starting when I was around 10. I grew up with his boys. He had 4 and it wasn't hard to play football or baseball whenever we could. When I was 12 his youngest (Douglas) pulled a knife on me for kid stuff and the oldest (James) grabbed and held him as the Frankie (2nd oldest) told me I'd better run. Michael was wide eyed. I jumped on my bike and took off. James let go and Douglas picked up a rock and drilled me in the back from a good distance. He had a good arm. No harm done. He took a descent whipping from Bang because one of them told on him. My parents never knew a thing.

I got some more ... maybe later.

Crowder, I'd like to hear some more from you when you can .. as well as from the others.
 

Crowderfarms

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To satisfy popular demand, here go a few more.

My Dad was in the Law business, and had worked all his life to get off the farm. He never understood why I would want to stay. In his last 20 years, I think he came to realize it was in my blood, and there was no turning back for me.

Dad knew a heck of a lot, but always seemed to be busy, so my knowledge came from his Brothers, and Brother In Laws, all whom had big places, and I hate to brag about it, took me under their wing to Educate me in the Farming/Cattle schools. I think it would have been a toss up as to which of the string of them knew the most.They were all real Characters that stood out in the community.

One of my favorite Uncles, a very good looking feller, and Married to One of Dad's 6 sisters, always wanted me to help him sucker Tobacco, Rake hay, pick Corn, Watermelons, Musk Mellons. I never realized something til' I was a lot older, but there was a Doctor and his Wife that owned a beautiful herd of Herefords, on about a 500 acre place. While the Doc was at work, we'd go over to her Farm and He'd have a "Visit". He'd get a good swig of Scotch from a bottle in the truck's glovebox, and tell me "I'll be back directly". Me being only about 14, had know idea what was going on.He died at the age of 54 and I always thought that was old...I remember telling the Doc's wife that she had the finest Cattle I'd ever seen. She asked me and was dead serious, "Which ones do you want". My Uncle said come on boy, lets go to the square and I'll buy you a Milk Shake, and a Hamburger for Dinner. I really wanted some of those Calves.

Back to some of the Farm Hands...

There was James, he drove an old Belvedere, and was always dirty, and cussed a lot. I remember him complaining that when he worked on the place all he got for Dinner was Vienna Sausage or Balogna sandwiches. said my Uncle was too tight to feed the help real food.( my Aunt worked at the Shoe Factory in Town) so she was not there to cook and deliver it to the fields. James always said he was moving to California and be a Movie Star.He robbed a service Station, and the Law shot him dead.

My best buddy that always was by my side was Mac. We were born a few days apart in the same year.Him and I seemed to have trouble always on our side.I remember taking out a cultivating tractor, and the 2 of us made an Indy 500 Track with the Cultivators. Bent them all to heck, and my Uncle calmly asked,"did you two tear up the 140?" I hung my head and admitted it. He just shook his head and said "Allright".The next day he discovered we had shot an old Combine and a 51 ford sedan all to hell, pretending we were Cops and Bonnie and Clyde were there.I just dont think he ever quite figured out what to do with me. We always remained close as Peas in a Pod til' his last day in this old world. I miss all of them something fierce.Sometimes I wish and wonder if they look down on me and see my Life has come out just fine, with my Family, Farm, and Friends...And they are owed more credit than they can realize they made me this way. ;-)
 

Caustic Burno

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Dad had an old black man that worked for him from time to time, actually was the same age as Dad. They were the best friends hunted together all the time. Old Lonnie was most likely the best shade tree mechanic I ever knew.
Lonnie was always singing gospel songs and had a beautiful baritone voice.
I still get chill's and love the gospel music like a singing on the ground. These kids today have no idea what that is.
I can still here Lonnie singing I will Fly away and Old time Religion.
Crowder you did bring back some old memories.
 

Gate Opener

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I remember Jack. Some people said he was a bit crazy. He seemed okay to me and was nice. He always wore a paper sack for a hat. He rolled it a certain way and people would feel sorry for him and give him hats but he always wore the paper ones. Jack had a cow and a mule that he would tie to the back of the truck and lead them down the road to eat on the sides of the road. That cow was just rolling fat. When she had her baby the baby came along also. Well that mule kept getting out of the pen at night and would show up at our place. My dad would go tell Jack and Jack would come and get him. Once again that mule got out and came to the house. Jack then told my dad, I tell you what, I'm gonna give you this mule. My dad thought Oh No. My dad did not want that mule and he didn't want to make Jack mad because Jack had killed a man and been in prison.(Don't know why he did it) My dad said Jack you should keep that mule and Jack said No, he's yours I gave him to you. They went back and forth and my dad was sweating it he didn't want the mule didn't want to make him mad he thought he was gonna be stuck with that mule. Finally my dad said Jack, you gave me that mule right? He said yes em I sure did. My dad said Okay, that means I can do anything I want to with him right? Jack says yes um. My dad said Okay since I can do anything with him I want to I want to give him to you. Jack thought for a minute and then acted real happy and said Yes em that will be fine, just fine. My dad then said he would haul that mule to the sale barn and give Jack the money and that is what happened.
 

Ryder

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I had a high school buddy, I'll just call him Jimmy to protect the guilty, that lived in a small town adjacent to the one where we attended school. I spent a lot of time at his house. His mother had a grocery store and there were a lot of rough characters that would come to the store. She maintained order with a blackjack and a S&W .32-.20. She loaned me that .32-.20 one night and it was a great source of comfort. But I digress. They had an employee named Willie. Willie was not the brightest bulb in the pack.

Willie had previously worked for Jimmy's uncle on his farm. One day the owner roped a bull and gave Willie the rope and told him not to let go of that rope while he went to the barn for something. Willie, being a good employee, tied the rope around his waist to make sure the bull didn't get away from him. Something spooked that bull and it took off dragging Willie along with him. Willie got bunged up pretty bad and they took him to the hospital.

His boss got a call sometime later telling him he had better come get Willie or he was going to die. When he asked what was wrong they told him Willie would not eat or sleep.

He had been joking with Willie and had told him that they would put something in his food to make him go to sleep and then they would operte on him and turn him into a woman.
Willie did not understand that it was a joke.

Once they got him out of the hospital he recovered.
 

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