My Childhood Memories of the Farm

1971 - Me and Grandpa Doc. I was 5 years old.

I was 5 years old in 1971 when the picture was taken of Grandpa Doc and me sitting on the 1950 John Deere; it had a hand clutch. Grandpa never ever told me no. Every time I wanted to go with him, he never said no. Neither did Guy and Rich. And I got on that tractor (or any tractor) any chance I could.

Sometime close to when this picture was taken, I went out to the farm after school. I don’t remember why but I remember it was spring. Grandpa, Rich, and Guy were harrowing (breaking up and smoothing the soil) with the Minneapolis Moline. The dust was unbelievable. When I came in the house to eat, I looked in the bathroom mirror. I smiled and my teeth were pure brown from the dust. I was covered with dust, head to toe. I must have sat on tractor fender for 2 or 3 hours that day. I don’t why, but I have always loved everything mechanical. 

1975 - Matt, me, Sandy posing on a tractor at the Spencer Fair

In 1975 Kathy and Rich took Matt, Sandy, and me to the Clay County Fair in Spencer, Iowa. I was 9 years old. Rich drove and Kathy took the pictures. It was fun. I remember walking around and thinking the fair was huge. Life was so much bigger outside of our small-town world.

I have a memory that same year of Grandpa Doc pinching his finger when I was helping him with a corn roller. This was for a corn picker used to take the ears of corn off of the stalk. He was welding it when it flipped around and jammed his finger. His eyes bugged out of his head but he never said a word. I saw the pain, but he just kept with his work.

My parents and siblings often joined in on farm activities too. Some were social and others, work. I have a memory of Kathy, Mom and I in the front seat of our green 2-door 1970 Chevy Impala. I was around 10 years old. We were on our way to bean walk the field. I was irritated with Mom about something and decided to mess with her. I leaned down pretending to grab something on the floor and instead floored the gas pedal. Mom shrieked “Mark! Mark! Mark”!

Another time that same year we were walking beans and Guy was irritated. He chased me in the field on the Marcus farm. I looked up and all I saw was a cloud of dust. He did a face-plant. Then he was really ticked at me but he didn’t do anything. It was just the heat of the moment.

Later that year, my cousin, Adam Wandersheid, was climbing on the Minneapolis Moline, fell backwards, hit his head on the cultivator and had to get stitches.

1976 - The bean walking crew. Front L to R: Sandy, me, Matt. Back L to R: Aunt Kathy Pick, Mom, Dad Jim Wagner, Uncle Rich Pick, Uncle Guy Pick

Sandy, Matt, and I would often jump into the back cab of the pick-up on our ride back from bean walking, hoes, and all. Once I accidentally slammed my hoe through the back window of the camper topper. We were happy to be done walking beans for the day and were probably in a hurry. It was likely a big job to fix. I remember when we bought that topper, it took 8 men and a small elephant to load it onto the truck bed! It weighed a ton. It was clamped to the bed with C-clamps.

1974 - Grandpa Doc working in his shop.

As a child, I was always drawn to Grandpa’s workshop on the farm. It had lots of drawers, tons, and tons of tools. I especially remember the smell – like welding and cutting torch. The first thing I think of when I weld in my garage is Grandpa’s shop on the farm. When I change the oil in our quads or grease my equipment, it always reminds me of the smells like the oil shed on the farm.

I always enjoyed working on the farm equipment. Grandpa, Rich, and Guy were especially careful with the 435 John Deere and the front-end loader. Once there was a big pile of manure that was pushed off to the side alongside the barn. They let me load it into the manure spreader and haul it to the field and I tore up the loader. I broke every weld on that thing. I would stab it and scoop it back because you couldn’t go into it. Every time I did that it kept getting bent back further and further. They must have spent a week fixing that thing. I really felt bad. 

Late 1970’s - Grandpa Doc in his element, working on a cultivator.

I have always been a John Deere fan. Their tractors hold their value. A 4430 can go for 20-30 grand. That’s more than what they sold for when bought new.  The John Deere 4010 on the farm was a diesel and Grandpa also got a 4020 gas.  John Deere tractors have always been very dependable.

When I was fourteen I bought a Honda Express and rode it to work on the farm after school and on weekends. It had a kick starter. The farm was only 3 ½ miles from Remsen. I could have walked it. Grandpa Doc gave me a spray bottle filled with ammonia to carry.  Its use was to squirt Bernard Pottebaum’s dog’s eyes (the dog from a neighboring farm). The dog was really trying to bite the tires but it scared the heck out of me. It eventually got run over by someone.

That same year I was driving the Chevy pickup on Hwy 3, from the Marcus farm to the Remsen farm. I was stopped by a highway patrolman for speeding. He asked where I was going and I told him I was on my way to my grandpa’s farm and I had only 2 miles left. He let me go.

In 1981 Uncle David and his new wife, Velda, stayed on the farm for the entire summer. It was a lot of fun. One Friday night they took Matt, Sandy, and me to the LeMars drive-in movie in their Volkswagon. I got catsup and mustard from my hot dog on the side of the car. We didn’t notice it until the next day because it was dark at the drive-in. By the time we found it, the catsup and mustard were all dried up. I remember getting a lot of work done that summer too. Lots of extra hands to help rewire a couple of barns.

It was shortly after the David and Velda summer that Grandpa and Grandma Doc moved into town. I was in high school. The house they moved into was one block from school. I stopped there a lot on my way home each day from school. This was on my walk home until I got a car. I missed the farm, but always enjoyed these daily visits.