Thinking about how it used to be.....

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Okie4570

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I was setting some raccoon traps on a property this afternoon that I've been on hundreds of times over the last 25y. In the last 5y the barn has fallen, the porch cover has fallen in on top of the front porch. Cattle have taken their toll over the years on things as well. As I was walking around the property looking for trails into sheds, barns and into the house to set traps, I happend to look up and look directly north down the quarter mile long drive way. Trees still lining both sides, and a few remaining telephone poles from where there was a phone line but was just a rural party line complete with a crank phone in the house lol. The long drive way hasn't been used in decades and we enter from the east side of the property now.

The property, two miles south of the Salt Fork River, was settled during the Cherokee Strip land run in 1893 by a Swedish couple, Niles and Josephine, who were both now 4900 miles from where they were born. There they would raise three boys. The youngest eventually moved to Indiana and married a Nebraska girl. The oldest, Joe, stayed on the farm and farmed with his dad and continued to so after Niles passed away, and never married. The middle son lived nearby and farmed as well, he also never married.

Joe passed away in November of 1969, in his chair in the living room of the same two story home his parents built in the late 1800's. The home never had electricity or running water, just a cistern on the front porch and the only lighting were oil lamps and eventually propane wall lamps which were up on the walls about 6' with a small diameter gas line that runs up to each one.

The man I drove a combine and tractor for befriended Joe in the 1950's. He leased some pasture from Joe for cattle and as Joe aged he leased Joe's farm land as well. Joe's only vehicle was a 1929 Model A that was his parents. During his last few years, he wasn't able to drive so the guy I farmed for would come pick him up and take him to town once a week to get his mail and run errands. During his last few months, his wife would cook eggs, toast and bacon every morning and then he would bring it to Joe for breakfast while he was there to check his cattle. One November morning it was extremely cold and as he made his way up the long drive way to bring Joe breakfast, he could see Joe sitting out on the front porch, as the driveway heads straight at the house, porch on the east side. He asked Joe what he was doing sitting out in the cold so early in the morning. "Well I'm watching my last sunrise from my front porch is what I'm doing" he replied. He helped Joe get back in the house so he could eat and get warmed up. The very next morning when he brought him breakfast, was the morning he found Joe no longer living sitting in his chair.

So today as I stood there looking down that driveway it was pretty interesting to think of all those times those three boys looked down that same driveway and saw their dad driving up. Or all the times they walked that long driveway to and from the one room school house that was about a mile away. Simpler time, simpler folks, I'm thinking I probably would have fit right in lol.

The barn today. Niles and Joe's grain drill with a couple trees securing it in place. Their wagon used during the land run. Looking north down the driveway, and looking south from the driveway to the house. And of course the Model A, that we do drive on occasion.

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Snattlerake

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There is nothing like American farmers helping each other. It is our heritage and our legacy.

These kinds of stories are priceless and very familiar to my own experiences while on the farm.

When I was four, Grandpa would come to visit me every morning to 'drink coffee' with me. We would then feed and count the cattle and check the fences. He died later that year.

Our farming community was either good friends or relatives and we never locked our houses, barns or vehicles in case someone was in trouble and needed to borrow one.

When my neighbor 4 miles away was in the hospital just before harvest, our community got together and combined his wheat and per his instructions, either binned or hauled it to the elevators.

Then we worked his ground after combining our wheat and then I could work my ground. At the time, we had just shy of 1,000 acres about 72% in wheat, 12% in alfalfa and the rest in pasture.

Dad worked in town as an accountant and I farmed from age ten on through college.

The whole community had a beer and nut fry in our barn after every harvest. I was never old enough to drink the beer then they stopped it when I was.
 

THAT Gurl

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Wow! I'm old enough to remember some of these traditions. I'm sure the more urban the state becomes the less and less we will see. Which is unfortunate -- especially for those coming up behind us.

Thanks for sharing @Okie4570 ! This kinda of stuff is fascinating to read. To me anyway! (You're in good company! 😁)
 

wolfman1

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Thanks for he share. thats how I remember it growing up in rural Virginia in the 50's Small town where most everyone was related, or knew you. If you farted too loud it made it into the local paper.

what I remember most though, and still miss, is the really black nights and how quiet it was. I remember one night it was snowing/icing and so quiet you could hear the flakes fall. They sounded like tiny silver bells.
 

THAT Gurl

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what I remember most though, and still miss, is the really black nights and how quiet it was.

Oh MAN!! 🥰🥰🥰 NO kidding!! Of the 5 neighbors who have fencing touching mine (sides and corners) 3 of them have outdoor lighting they NEVER shut off and one of them pays OGE for the floodlight on the pole back there. 😭😭😭 It's ****ing daylight 24/7 in my backyard. I HATE it. 😭😭😭
 

2busy

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Oh MAN!! 🥰🥰🥰 NO kidding!! Of the 5 neighbors who have fencing touching mine (sides and corners) 3 of them have outdoor lighting they NEVER shut off and one of them pays OGE for the floodlight on the pole back there. 😭😭😭 It's ****ing daylight 24/7 in my backyard. I HATE it. 😭😭😭
I hate those yard / security lights . Grow a pair and appreciate the dark.
 

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