Posted on 09/24/2017 6:29:03 PM PDT by Hojczyk
I was born in 1932,my brother came along in 1935-——The Great Depression was on-——and then my father died in 1938.
Most kids today HAVE NO IDEA what struggle is.
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I was president of a small cabinet company when my sons went through junior high and high school. They painted, cleaned the plant, and helped carried cabinets and millwork into homes from our delivery trucks.
One day my son came into the delivery office while I was there. I asked him how his day went. He told me that carrying 6-panel solid oak doors to the second floor was really hard work. He grabbed his motorcycle helmet and took off.
A few minutes later the driver came in to the office. I asked him when did we start taking doors to the second floor. (Our standard policy was to put everything in the garage and the carpenters took the doors to the second floor.)
The driver looked at me and said that he started delivering stuff to the second floor when my son started working for him. I asked him what the carpenters gave him for carrying the stuff to the second floor. He confided that he got a 6 pack of beer for each house.
I did not tell my son for 6 years.
I was president of a small cabinet company when my sons went through junior high and high school. They painted, cleaned the plant, and helped carried cabinets and millwork into homes from our delivery trucks.
One day my son came into the delivery office while I was there. I asked him how his day went. He told me that carrying 6-panel solid oak doors to the second floor was really hard work. He grabbed his motorcycle helmet and took off.
A few minutes later the driver came in to the office. I asked him when did we start taking doors to the second floor. (Our standard policy was to put everything in the garage and the carpenters took the doors to the second floor.)
The driver looked at me and said that he started delivering stuff to the second floor when my son started working for him. I asked him what the carpenters gave him for carrying the stuff to the second floor. He confided that he got a 6 pack of beer for each house.
I did not tell my son for 6 years.
Great story. :-)
.
Btw, your profile is of a man truly blessed, FRiend .. well done.
My husband drove tractor most days after school from the age of 9.
He’ll always remember that. Good memories.
Early October 1963. I’m 9, walking out of the grade school in Viola, IL. But instead of riding the bus home, my mom was waiting for me in the 56 BelAir sedan. She said, “we are going to Aledo (7 miles west) to get something and then go home.” We went to the John Deere dealer. They told us they would meet us outside of town.
I’m perplexed, asking mom what’s going on. She said, “you’ll see in a little bit”. So we waited at the first gravel road outside of town. Shortly, a brand new 1964 JD4020d pulls up behind us. Mom said, “you’re driving it home!”
The mechanic said to me, “Your dad said 6th gear and no higher!” I didn’t care. It was an 11 mile drive and I wanted it to last as long as possible.
A few nights later I was doing a routine after school chore; hauling water to hogs out in the hay pasture, about a half mile from home. It was dark, so after emptying the wagon. I wheeled out on the gravel road in 6th, and already familiar with the syncro range tranny, flipped it into 8th. Opened the throttle, and for about a quarter mile let it go. I thought the neighbors place that I drove by would just think that it was dad.
The next night, at the supper table, my dad said to me, “I told you that you were not to drive that tractor above 6th gear!” I was about to try to deny, when dad said, “Jim (neighbor farmer) saw you go by lickety split”. He finished by saying, “6th gear, until I say otherwise!”
I don’t think Jim knew that I was breaking a rule driving that fast. But I couldn’t figure out how he knew it was me. It was after seeing my dad put the tractor away a few nights later, that I realized that just because the seat is behind the lights, the back glow was sufficient to see the driver.
About a week later I was allowed to use 7th gear.
The number of us who grew up on farms is dwindling. I have made an observation through my live experiences. I am in my mid-60s. Most leaders I have come across grew up on on a farm. Leadership, making a decision, on the best information available, when no one else was around was second nature for farm kids.
Synopsis of my faimily: Dad a returning B24 pilot. Grew up on a farm. Saw his unit receive 70% casualties. Mom a devoted mother and farm wife. Neither had college education.
Raised 5 kids. All kids got college degrees. 3 at Catholic Universities, 2 at Service Academies. All worked the farm. I am talking about the usual chores plus scooping manure for 1000 hogs. All normal stuff to us.
My point: work was a means to an end. All work is noble, even cleaning a waterer for hogs with your hands with manure covering it and you. Our pay, room and board. Our blessing our parents.
All 5 have been very successful : military, law, education social work.
The next generation has exceeded ours for they too understand work is noble: some of their colleges: USNA, USAFA, Vanderbilt, U of Chicago, NYU, U of Miami, Michigan State.......pilots, doctors, teachers, diplomat .. moms and dads raising kids with the work is noble mantra. No one owes you a thing mentality.
They’ve been handed down a saying from their grandfather: it’s a great day when no one is shooting at you and it’s a good when you help someone.
My gosh, I been mowing lawns for 2 years now...my cousins lives on a farm and they work it...Time for kids to grow up, I had a boy who lived near me asking why I mow lawns. I told him that I want to earn money. He looked at me like I had two heads!!
I started working at 15 and a half at a business.
Today that is not allowed.
I wish someone had told my father that I shouldn’t be mowing the lawn when I was 9-10-11.
I hated having to mow the lawn.
Still do.
Learning work skills, and a corresponding work ethic, used to be a part of growing up.
Ha… my first tractor driving job on the farm was at age 6. We fortunately had a Minneapolis Moline tractor… they used a hand clutch which was a good thing because most tractor foot clutches were stiff enough that I’d never have gotten it down with double my body weight let alone release it in any kind of controlled way. The hand clutches were easy even for a 6 year old. My job was just to make sure the tractor was driven straight and centred above the hay windrow… the tractor was pulling a wagon and a loose hay loader. My older brothers jobs were to fork the loose around on the wagon and keep an eye on me.
I was driving tractor, an old ford, and plowing fields, tending watering, pruning, and picking at age 8 on a ranch in central California in the 50’s. Used to stop and swim in that cold stand pipe. Good days.
rwood
I was ll when I was in the 6th grade. I had three lawn jobs and the lawn at our house to mow. My customers let me use their own machines. Every Saturday was lawns to mow. If it was raining, then it was the first clear day after school. What the hell was wrong with that!?
I did not grow up on a farm but have done my share of agricultural shit work and I liked it when I was young.
hay baling
muck out animal poop
plant rice in a wet paddy (I liked this)
cut sugar cane ......yes I did and for a while
When I was a kid, I was the remote... ARF!
JD 4020, rotary hoeing was my first field experience. Just like people that like to drive their old cars, getting on the open station tractor and going down the road brings back many memories.
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