Prairie Gifts
For those of us with rural roots the harvest season offers an opportunity to reflect on the bounty that a good harvest brings to the community. What follows is a story that took place in mid-20th century in my home community, a place in the flat prairie land of North Dakota where the horizon is endless, the sunsets are heavenly and the wind never dies.
Norm, his wife, Yvonne, and young daughter, Cheryl, farmed a of section of land – about 600 acres along the intersection of Hwy 13 and the Berlin Road in LaMoure County, ND. It was a typical farm operation with livestock, beef cattle, a few milk cows, chickens and pigs, barn cats and a farm dog that never met a car he didn’t like. It was small operation by today’s standards, but a lot for one man to manage by himself in that era.
Everyone loved Norm, a large gregarious man with a big smile, big hands and big heart.
For Norm, no sons made him the sole “engineer” in his company. Yvonne, a sweet but sickly woman, wasn’t able to be a full partner in the family business. A farm career means independence, no one to “manage” you. It also means no safety net as in “sick leave” with a paycheck when “life happens”.
In the fall of 1948,“life happened” to Norm and his family.
It was late in the planting / harvest cycle. The hay was cut, baled and stored in those geometric stacks in strategic places on the farm for use in the winter when cattle wouldn’t have free range in the pasture. Wheat and other small grains were safely harvested and shipped to the grain elevator to be sold or stored in grain bins awaiting a better price. The race to the harvest finish line is fraught with tension. Attitude, optimism and a willingness to work long hours in all types of weather is the job description in a farm career where the weather can dictate the outcome.
It was just such a tension filled day as Norm was racing to finish the corn harvest when he found his hand caught in the corn picker sidelining him for the rest of the season. Farm accidents are so common in this profession that no one is surprised when it happens. Every farmer knows it could happen to him or her.
This is where the “it takes a village” concept enters in.
Someone put out a call for volunteers. The local banker took donations. The local gas station provided the fuel and 22 neighbors left their fields and showed up with their rigs to finish the harvest AND do the remainder of the fall field work for Norm and his family. Neighbor women showed up with hearty homemade food to serve the hungry workers and children kept the workers stocked with fresh water and coffee.
Memories were made, service was modeled and a farm family’s financial future was saved. The deeper meaning here is that political, religious (Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, Reorganized Church of the Latter Day Saints, Jehovah’s Witness) and ethnic (Old-stock American, German, Germans from Russia, Norwegian, Swedish , Polish) biases were set aside to work together as a community with a common goal.
It was a long day of cooperation and sharing on that farm where someone took the leadership and everyone agreed to set their own needs aside and help another. No one pointed a finger at the victim declaring it was his own darn fault. No one said “I’m too good to care about them.” No one said “it’s not my business.” Everyone participating that day believed they had a social responsibility to care for a neighbor – to do what they could.
I’m pretty sure everyone left that day feeling good about their world.
Carol Just, Fall 2011
