Entry #551243, added on 11-24-07 @ 4:54 am EST
Entry Access Restriction: None.
| The Bay Road Legacy Chapter 2 First Day | Entry #551243 |
The BAY ROAD LEGACY
Chapter Two
First Day
We had arrived in town on Monday, and gotten our first look at Bay Road. Tuesday was spent shopping, and today was Wednesday. We looked at the fields of hay growing along Bay Rd, and the miles of corn being grown as animal feed. We noticed on the horizon, as far away as we could see, a large number of coal black steers grazing in a distant field. We knew that the property we were passing abutted the farm that we would be living on and it was all part of one large managed co-op. It was certain that in the days and weeks ahead there would be a lot of exploring to do. We had been given freedom to wander over all of the abutting property, which in total was 5000 acres. There were several teams of farm workers laboring in different areas of the property as we drove past. There were tractors being driven to and fro and trucks moving about hauling old farm trailers piled high with hay. Some of the hay would eventually be fed to the animals, some used as straw for bedding.
As we swung into the driveway of the old house, we were met by a man who was the property manager for the whole farm. He introduced himself and offered to take my brother and me for a tour of the whole place. He promised mother to have us back by lunch time. This was well with mother as she was glad to have us out of the way today. The furniture company had promised delivery on all that had been purchased and there would be other people coming to the house to install the phone and turn on the electricity. She was pleased that we would be out of the way and with such a nice young man. We had to promise not to get into any trouble and do what we were told.
Off we went, riding in the back of his old pickup truck. The first stop was to his farm, about a mile or so away. He led us into the largest barn and introduced us to his prize bull. This was a beast as large as any I had ever seen up close and personal. Over 2000 lbs of the meanest most ornery animal ever built was his description of “Mercury” his prized breeding bull. Next to him, “Prince” seemed to be a toy, but as he pointed out Prince was going to be just like his father when he grew up. The next stop on the tour included a visit to the pasture lands where 500 or more steers were spending the day, doing what they did best, that is looking big and mean and dangerous. “Once they get to know you they’re ok,” he said. “Jump down and walk around them, it’s ok.”
Jump down sounded good, walk around them took a little more effort. “So you boys have never been on a farm before” asked the man. “No, not even close,” was our reply. The man offered us a wealth of information that we could take back to tell mother, and father about the farm. He told us that back before the turn of the century, in the late 1800s the farm had been one of the best horse breeding farms in all of New York. The owner of the farm a Mr. Spier had started out as a merchant in Glens Falls and been fairly successful. He bought the farm property and went first into the timber business as he had the property cleared and fields developed. He enjoyed the horse racing at nearby Saratoga Raceway, and thought that he would have a try at breeding horses. It was Mr. Spier who had the large horse barn built. He must have been somewhat like father because to him bigger meant better. It was the largest barn built north of Albany in many, many years. We were asked if we had been into the horse barn yet. Had we seen the names over the stalls? Delta Joe, Nigger Boy, Man o War, Shay etc. We said we had, and he explained that the best horses, bred or stabled at the farm during race season had their own stalls. This would keep them from getting any disease from strangers. Mr. Spier did not build the original house, but did add the huge addition on to it to serve as living spaces for his farm hands. It took about 50 people to run the place. No machines like there were now.
The man explaining the history of the farm didn’t know or wouldn’t say what ever happened to Mr. Spier, but he did offer that after the turn of the century, the farm became a dairy farm. That is when the big dairy barn, the one with the massive milking machines and the tall silo were built. The farm at that point was in the hands of Mr. Fowler. Mrs. Fowler, he said was our neighbor who lived in the little house just across the street from the farm. Mr. Fowler had died years ago and Mrs. Fowler didn’t want to live in the big house any longer. That is all he could tell us about her. We got the idea that she was perhaps somewhat of a reclusive person. The farm was taken over by the insurance company and put into the co-op several years earlier. We were filled with questions on the way back to the farmhouse, and he answered most of them quite directly. Some questions were left unanswered as he claimed to not have the right answers to them. It was a great morning, and when we got back to the house, he offered us some part time work, working with him on the farm, if it was okay with mother. Her answer to his offer was we’ll see. We assured him that we would work for him anytime.
The furniture company had delivered furniture and we piled into the house to see what was new, and to get lunch. The big old stove in the kitchen was still a mystery to mother who swore she would never try to use it, what with all its pipes and gas lines and wires. No she was determined that all meals would be served between bread slices until a new stove was in place. So, I like peanut butter and jelly. No big deal.
The living room was filled by the largest corner sectional sofa that the furniture store had available, yet some how it looked small and out of place there in that huge room. Two over stuffed chairs, a coffee table and a large hassock had also been added and the room still looked empty.
“It will look a lot better when I get the curtains up” said mother. “For now, I don’t want you boys sitting on it with dirty cloths on so don’t get any ideas. You boys stink like animals, where on earth did he take you to?”
We spent an hour or more eating our sandwiches and telling mother and father all we had learned about the farm. We insisted that mother go with us to the barns and see the stalls with the names on them, and see the machines in the dairy barn. She had not even ventured beyond the driveway of her new house not even once since we arrived there. For better or worse, mother had resigned herself to making this our first real home. I believe that she was the only person on earth who had any idea of what it would take to do that. To begin to build a life, for her and for us with father in this place at this point in our lives was to be an incredible task. Mother had never been a housewife before, had never had a home of her own. With father out of our lives, she had worked for a living and we lived in Aunt Mabels’ house with my aunt and Nana doing all the cooking and housekeeping chores that mother would now have to do for us. Mother was a person who truly believed in miracles, and with great patience and determination she was in for the long haul of the task that lay ahead, no matter what came our way.
Following lunch, we persuaded mother to take a break and to walk out with us to see the barns and other buildings. She was very reluctant, still keeping in mind our earlier reports of gray fury critters scurrying about in every building. It was as though the rats sensed her coming, as we toured the farm buildings. From every corner, from under and around every post, from behind and in front, they made their presence known. After the first few screams of shock, even mother was about to accept the inevitable existence of rats everywhere. Mother was amazed by the complexity of the whole farming existence and expressed great respect for anyone who had to live this way back a hundred years or more. They had no electricity, no running water, no downtown supermarket, and very few of the other blessings of life in the fifties.
When we entered into the big dairy barn mother became a bit more quiet. She complained at how cold it was in this barn. The outside temperature was near 90 degrees, but inside the barn it felt like an ice box. As boys we had not even noticed this. Mother wanted very much to exit this barn fast. As we walked past the entry gate to the grain silo, she suddenly stopped to look into its interior. At the bottom, among the rotting and decomposed bodies of several large rats, springing to life from the damp and decaying silo floor were flowers growing. Flowers in the silo, almost as though they had been planted there, how strange! Who would do such a thing, and why?
Back now into the sunshine and into the house. As we neared the house I remember asking mother, “are we home now, will we be staying here tonight, will we have beds in our own rooms, did our beds arrive from home yet?” To save on expenses, father had arranged to have some furnishings brought up from my aunt’s house, most importantly the army style bunk beds that my brother and I had slept on since our earliest childhood. Also expected to arrive on the mover’s truck were the balance of our clothing, and some pots and pans and all of the bedding materials that could be spared from my aunt. “No” said mother “we are not home yet, the mover has not arrived and father has gone to call him and see why, after all, he is a friend of your fathers, so we will let him handle it.”
Mother went back inside to put up curtains and to wash floors and bathrooms and to continue in her work of making this old house into a home. My brother and I went out to do more exploring in some of the other barns and buildings. On the south side of the house perhaps 200 yards away was a long low building that we had not entered. We had no idea what surprises it held.
When we approached the door, it was apparent even to non-farm boys like us that this was a chicken coop. Like everything else on the farm it was big. This building was intended to house chickens in the hundreds. Not what a city boy would think of when the word chicken coop was mentioned. Hey, maybe we could grow some chickens. We could sell the eggs to buy food for them and when they got big we could eat them! After the idea received some time, and a lot of boyish discussion, we agreed that chickens would not be a good idea. Inside I thought that was just as well, I had never killed anything just to eat it. We moved on now to the pump house, and studied with great curiosity the complex open frame motors used to draw water from deep within the earth. As we stood there, we were suddenly and deeply startled at the noise as for some reason, the pumps suddenly sprung to life. The noise of the motors, and the action of the pump was enough to force us out again into sunshine.
As we left the pump house and looked toward the house, we could see a lot of activity in the driveway, so quickly, we ran to find out what was next. We saw several large tractors being brought into the driveway and several machines that we would learn more of, for bailing hay. There was a procession of trucks and trailers and other equipment being brought in from everywhere. Mr. Roberts, the farm manager called us over, and told us that tomorrow they were going to start cutting and bailing hay in our fields, and if we were around we could help out. “I will even show you how to drive one of these tractors” was his promise to me.
Hope springs eternal in the mind of young boys, and I was now beginning to like the idea of a new life on the farm. Mother and my sister came out of the house just as father returned from his errand. The mover had broken down in Vermont and we would not have beds or any of the other stuff until the next day. Mother, drew a deep sigh of relief, and was I think, looking forward to one more night in the hotel with a good meal and a hot bath. She and my sister had been making up a shopping list and we knew that before coming back to the farm in the morning, a trip to the supermarket was in store. To the list, in big bold letters mother had added the words RAT POISON, with the word “lots” written right beside it. Another hour at the farm and we were on the way back to the hotel.
We had been at the farm for about 8 hours now, and were disappointed that we could not spend the night. No, our first day was still ahead of us. We would return on Thursday morning and a whole new first day experience still lay ahead of us.
Before mid morning, on Thursday I was already climbing up on the tractor seat and looking forward to bringing it to life. I carefully examined the other large machines and figured I would be operating them in the not too distant future. I was ready for life on the farm. My mother and sister along with her son now almost two years old had spent the whole day with the furniture people and were in and out of the house time and time again, always keeping a watchful eye on my brother and me.
Father was very pleased with the home like appearance of the old place and continued to express how lucky we were to be moving in to a place like this. It was an overt action on his part I am sure to convince mother of how smart he had been in getting us such a wonderful place to live in. He told us that while he was out making phone calls, he had called on his brother Jimmy to invite him to come up with his wife and spend a few days at the new place. Mother was shocked. We hadn’t even moved in and now we were expecting company. Father went on to say that Uncle Jimmy knew what to expect, and he was really coming up to help us settle in.
Now Uncle Jimmy was certainly one of our most favorite people ever. We had net Jimmy several times earlier in our lives in fathers’ absence. Jimmy was an ex Army pilot who had flown in the second world war, and when the war was over he went to work in military intelligence and soon became a spy for the new Central Intelligence Agency. He was a very big and strong man, and was really a lot of fun to be with. He was not at all like father. His wife Stella would be glad to help out too, and she drove a car and could help mother with some errands. Father would be going to work on Monday and could not spend any more time moving in. He did not want mother to be alone at the house all day, not even for a minute. Mother said before they arrived she wanted to go back to the furniture store and at least get a bed for them to sleep on.
We finally left the house; climbing into the big new Buick Roadmaster that father had purchase a few weeks earlier. He did like things that were big.
Just to show that he was in touch with things; father opened the drivers door, and gave the keys to the car to mother. “Here Dot, you drive” he said. Cheers from the back seat, encouragement and “go for it Ma” being shouted out, she could not refuse, and so her first experience as a driver was about to happen. The car roared to life as she started it with her foot all the way down on the gas pedal. Father grimaced and quickly told her to ease up a little on the gas. Mother looked a little more distressed when she received the command to put the car in gear and head out to the road. Without putting her foot on the brake, she moved the gear shift down, and the car lurched forward. “What do I do now she yelled, what’s next”? “Steer the car Dot, try to stay in the driveway, and don’t hit anything” was the reply.
Bumping and bouncing over the edge of the driveway, we made it all the way down to the road, and then without slowing mother swung the car right out onto Bay Road. We laughed, we roared at the experience, while all father could say was “next time you might want to stop before making a turn onto a busy road.” As if to justify her unusual driving, she quickly responded that the total number of cars on Bay Rd that day was five, and it was not a busy road at all. Father was silent as we moved down Bay Road at the amazing speed of six miles per hour. Mother was driving! In the days and weeks ahead she would indeed learn to drive, but at this moment at this speed she was proud of her accomplishment. It was a high spot in her day.
Father sat quietly for the next two miles and we just watched as the scenery passed by in slow motion, very slow motion. “Dot, if you want to get to Glens Falls tonight, you will have to go a little faster” said father. “How do I do that,” she asked? “Just push a little on the gas,” he replied. We were really moving now, I could feel it, we were all the way up to ten miles per hour. The first driving lesson ended when father suggested that she had done enough for one day, and ordered her to stop and let him drive. She of course obeyed his order and brought the car to a stop. Father walked around to the driver side and opened the door. Mother swung around in the driver’s seat and stepped out. The car rolled forward and as soon as it did father realized that she had left it in gear.
Father ran along side of the car for a short distance before jumping in and applying the breaks. The lesson was over but father did promise that another day he would let her drive again.
I felt good at that moment. I think that experience, marked the first time that we as a family enjoyed a moment, and laughed together. Life was going to be good, I could just tell. Nothing could go wrong now, we were family and had a home of our own, and we had Uncle Jimmy coming up to visit and I was going to drive a tractor, and it was all so good. What could ever spoil this scene?
With father driving we reached Glens Falls in time to visit Sears where mother insisted on the purchase of a new electric stove, and two roll around beds. Folding beds like we had used at the hotel. These would come in handy when company comes she reasoned, and no one would have to sleep on the floor. We went to the hotel bathed and changed out of our smelly clothes, and went to dinner. The next day held great promise and we were ready.
|
© Copyright 2007 Peter Yule (UN: peteryule at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Peter Yule has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|
Log In To Leave Feedback
Static Items
Books
Forums
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
