Farmers and country neighbors pitch in, noticing when there’s something amiss — sometimes without even asking, stop and offer help. It’s heartwarming and appreciated beyond words.
Mowing lawn, I glanced down at my cell and noticed a call from my husband, who was chisel plowing in a field about a mile from the farm. My heart sunk. He doesn’t call me in the middle of the day to say, “Hey, how’s it going, my better half?” No, 10 out of 10 he’s got some sort of trouble.
“Come down here and get me. Tractor tire fell off.”
We have detailed conversations on road trips or if we run errands together or as we meander along county roads in our side-by-side. Phone calls with an urgency include clipped, minimal words and it goes without saying: Don’t ask any questions and just get here.
My lawn mower got parked right where I left off and away I went. I normally mow one hour at a time, tackling our lawn in segments. I purposefully get off and weed whack or go in the house for a drink of water, just move. If I don’t, by the end of the hours and hours it takes to mow everything out here, I’m trashed — back, hip, you name it, it hurts.
So getting the call, while unfortunate, it at least got me off the lawn mower.
“Ugh,” he huffed in annoyance when I got to the field. “I had three more paths left when the front tire just fell off. I saw it and felt it and the tractor shut right off. Front spindle dug down into the dirt.”
Glancing back, I saw the tire lying in the field, the tractor tilted comically to one side. Lifting up a silent prayer of thanks that it happened in the field and not on the road coming back home, I listened intently for his how to handle it.
He explained he’d have to put the fork attachment on the skidder and driving it down there, raise the front axle with a chain — putting blocks under it to stabilize, lifting it out of the dirt to work on it and installing new bearings.
My mind jumped ahead (my usual reaction) and wondered if I’d have the strength to hoist wooden blocks under the front axle after he raised it with the skidder. (My muscles had gone down the road with trailers full of our cows back in May 2016.)
Getting back to the farm, my husband threw the blocks in the back of the wheeler along with a sturdy chain. Away I went, following him down the road and into the field.
He strung the chain around the axle, fashioning it to the front of the slats of the skidder. I was in position to hoist wooden blocks under when what I saw stopped me in my tracks. The skidder’s back end went airborne. It was not sturdy or heavy enough to handle raising the tractor.
Plan B. Our neighbor.
Pulling into his driveway, we found him taking a break on his back deck. He listened intently to our plight.
“You need help right now?”
“Yes. Can you?”
“Sure. The front end loader on my tractor has the fork attachment on it yet.”
Immediately, he made ready to go.
Meeting at the field, the first wrap around the axle didn’t budge the tractor one bit. So he wrapped it around the front end of the tractor instead. This time our neighbor’s tractor lifted the axle high enough. Husband placed the wooden blocks in just the right place to balance the front end of the tractor. There was enough room to be able to fix the bearing and replace the tire later. Thankfully, all I needed to do then was watch.
We were just hashing over details when another neighbor pulled up in his four-wheeler. He noticed all the activity out in the middle of the field and pulled in to see if he could help. He ended up hoisting the very heavy tire onto the back of my four-wheeler, which was appreciated.
All finally departed the scene as my husband then had to run for parts. A good buddy of his offered to help put it all together later, and presently my husband was up and running.
That early evening, I heard a knock on our door.
“Hey, do you like asparagus?” It was the neighbor who’d hoisted the tire onto our four-wheeler bed, handing me a gallon bag filled with tender, fresh-cut asparagus spears.
“We sure do, but I should be the one bringing asparagus to you. You helped us.”
We laughed, and he went on his way.
The whole episode reminded me that farmers have each other’s backs. Good neighbors and friends’ offers of help make farming — even supposedly retired farmers — a bit less stressful.
Especially during June Dairy Month, thanks to all the farmers who work tirelessly to put food on our tables. Did you eat today? Thank a farmer.
(“We are coworkers with God and you are God’s cultivated garden, the house He is building.” 1 Corinthians 3:9 The Passion Translation)
Kay Reminger was born and raised on a dairy farm, and she married her high school sweetheart, who happened to farm for a living in Leopolis. Writing for quite a few years, she remains focused on the blessings of living the ups and downs of rural life from a farm wife’s perspective.
In the country, neighbors lend a hand
