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Saturday, May 1, 2010

POSTING #70

Some Stories from My Brother Jim

My brother Jim, who lives in Milton, Ontario with my sister-in-law Fannie, has a fund of good stories. Here are a couple of my favourites.

In the early part of the 1930s, Dad, who was a traffic officer with the Ontario Provincial Police, was transferred from Bronte, Ontario to Palermo, a community at the junction of Highways 5 and 25, in what is now the north-west corner of Oakville.

Our family, which consisted of Mom, Dad and Jim (Charles---Chuck---and I had not yet made an appearance) rented a house near a farm owned by Russell (Russ) and Annie Fox, a friendly, hardworking couple.

Jim who was about 4 or 5 at the time was fascinated by the farm and wandered over as often as he could to watch Russ and the hired man---an English immigrant who lived with Russ and Annie---handle the many chores involved in running a hundred acre mixed farm.

Russ and Annie didn't have any children of their own and they enjoyed having the talkative, outgoing lad around.

One day, Jim was watching the hired man forking manure into the manure spreader. The strong farmyard odours didn't seem to bother Jim at all.

Once the spreader was full, the hired man hitched the team of Percheron horses to it and prepared to set off for a back field.

Jim asked if he could ride with the hired man on the seat at the front of the manure spreader.

At first, the hired man refused but Jim persisted. Finally the hired man relented and helped Jim scramble up on the seat.

The hired man told the horses to 'gaddup' and off they went to the back of the farm.

Jim felt good. The sun was out, he was riding behind a team of horses, and he had a fresh stick of gum in his mouth. He was about as happy as a kid could be.

Coming to a gate, the hired man got down off the spreader to open it. Just as he got the gate opened, something spooked the horses and they bolted ahead.

Caught unaware by the sudden movement, Jim was thrown backwards and ended up face down in the manure.

The hired man chased after the team and finally got them stopped.

Terrified that Jim had been hurt, the hired man pulled him out of the manure, saying repeatedly, "Are you alright?", as he brushed away at the manure on Jim's face and clothes.

When Jim had caught his breath he said he was OK but added, "I was afraid I'd lost my gum."

When Russ, a generally easy-going person, heard what had happened he was horrified and furious. He fired the hired man on the spot and told him to clear off---leave the farm.

This was in the midst of the depression when there were no jobs. Although Russ couldn't pay much, he provided first-class room and board (Annie was an excellent cook), The English immigrant was going to have a tough job finding another job.

The hired man, his head down, set off for the house to pack his things.

Russ looked at the man and then called out to him. They had a chat and Russ re-hired him.

Jim's comment, "I was afraid I'd lost my gum." soon spread around the community.

I wonder if that calm and humorous response didn't play a role in Russ's change of mind about firing the hired man.

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There is a sequel to the story. The hired man eventually left farming, and joined the OPP He had a long and good career with the force.

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In 1935, the OPP transferred Dad once again, this time to Arthur---where I was born the following year, and Chuck in 1939.

My parents stayed friends with Russ and Annie, visiting them frequently. Jim looked forward to these visits since they gave him a chance to wander around the farm again.

When Jim was about 11 or 12, he started spending the summer holidays on the farm, helping Russ.

One summer, Russ had to go to help a relative on another farm. He told Jim that he should just take the day off, that he had been working hard and could use the rest.

Jim had another idea.

He had heard Russ talk about the need to spread some manure on one of the fields but they hadn't been able to get around to it. Jim decided that he would harness the horses and spread the manure, and he sorted out a plan in his mind.

You know, words can sometimes make difficult things sound really simple.

Here was a 12 year-old lad, small for his age (he later sprouted) with only the limited amount of farming knowledge that he had picked up from watching and helping Russ.

The two Percheron horses probably each weighed around 1900 pounds and were about 17 hands high (that's almost 6 feet high---I had to check). Jim probably weighed about a hundred pounds, soaking wet.

To harness the horses, he first had to lift a heavy collar over the head of each of them. Next he had to attach leather straps called traces to the collars and then to the whippletree, a bar behind the team that pivots and swings to let a team pull a more balanced load.

And then he had to attach the reins so he could guide the horses.

This isn't at all a full description of what is involved in harnessing a team of horses but it will give you some idea of the challenge it must have presented to a 12 year old.

Percherons are noted for their calm disposition but they have huge feet. Imagine what would have happened if one of them had fidgeted and accidentally stepped on one of Jim's feet!

When the team was harnessed, Jim backed them up to the manure spreader, hitched them to it and then drove them to the manure pile so he could fork on a load of well-rotted manure.

Jim hadn't told Annie what he was doing but she saw him getting ready to head for the back of the farm. She ran out with a camera and snapped a picture (see below), showing Jim with his railway engineer's cap set at a no-nonsense-this-is-serious-business angle, all set to spread some manure.

He spread the manure, came back, unharnessed the horses and fed them.

Annie, Russ and their friends were astounded that a twelve-year old, especially one who hadn't been raised on a farm, had taken on that task, and pulled it off.

As for Jim, hr felt good about what he had done but he wasn't surprised. After all, he had planned it all out and after that it was just a matter of putting the plan into action.










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Keeping with today's theme, I wonder if you would let me finish with two jokes about politicians and manure?

The first one is about Tommy Douglas, considered by many to be the father of the Canadian Medicare system.

Douglas was scheduled to speak to a group of farmers in rural Saskatchewan. Unfortunately, when he got to the site of the speech, he found that there was no platform. This was a problem for Douglas who was more than a little vertically challenged.

Spotting a manure spreader, he asked the people to crowd around.

After he had scrambled up on the wagon, he began his speech by saying that this was the first time he had ever stood on his opposition's platform.

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The other joke, concerns Margaret Truman the daughter of US president, Harry Truman, a man who was known for his earthy language.

Margaret complained to her mother that she should do something to stop Harry from using the word 'manure' in company---it was embarrassing.

Bess sighed deeply and replied, "Dear, it took me twenty years to get him to say 'manure'.

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See you next Sunday for Posting #71 with more stories from our family’s universe! If you have comments or suggestions, please leave a comment at the bottom of this posting, or email me at johnpathunter@gmail.com

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