Stop in for a cup of coffee
Flashback: I was 7 years old, spending the summer with my grandparents. My grandfather had just bought this tractor brand new, maybe a few months old by summer time. Anyway, we’re getting stuff ready to bale hay down the road, My grandmother had fallen off the hay wagon that morning and jammed her hand into the elevator and wasn’t going to be able to drive the tractor as she always did for us while we worked the wagon. So my grandfather took 7 year old me, tossed me into the driver’s seat, climbs up on the fender, said here take it down the drive. This is like landing on the moon, winning the Super Bowl or Daytona 500 or th Olympics all rolled into one for little 7 year old me. So I’m bouncing up and down, so I push the clutch in, start the tractor and reached over to put it in gear like I’d seen my grandfather do, I put it into D range, road gear, high gear. He reaches over turns the tractor off. Puts his hand on my sternum to get me to calm down his hands were huge but even still barely calmed down my excitement. The words he says next ring in my mind every time I climb onto a tractor to this day. “Christoph, You either take it slow or you ain’t doing this at all”. He then bumped me down to the slowest gear, A1 and proceeded to let me idle it down the drive. We did this back and forth, up and down the drive for what seemed like forever, slow as a snail. He then has me stop, he takes over, hooks up to that old New Holland square baler that has three wagons hooked behind it. We drive over to the hay field, I was puzzled because my grandmother was still in town getting checked out, I asked who was going to drive, he replies, you are. So that was it, a few minutes up and down the drive and a few turns and now little 7 year old me was driving a tractor baler and 3 wagons across a 10 acre field while my grandfather stacked them on the wagons. That was probably the longest day of baling hay I’ve ever done, and we had to make so many extra passes to collect the windrows I’d missed in my rookie turns. But he never complained.
Today, I had the special moment of teaching my 7 year old Whitley on the very same tractor, albeit not near as shinny and no baling hay. And no pap sitting on the fender, grinning like his 7 yr old grandson was grinning back at him. No, sadly and yet happily today, it was me sitting on the fender, letting Whitley drive. Nice and slow, a few turns, her grinning back at me, me choking back tears the best I can(thank God for dark sunglasses). Sadly this will be the last time she gets to drive this particular tractor as it will be sold at Auction on Saturday. But for a few moments, I felt like I did back on that hot July Day all them years ago.
Afterwards, a few short rides with the minions as baby Kendall and cousin Mallory joined us.
I’m still choking back tears( okay no I’m not, they rolling now) God I miss him.
Flashback: I was 7 years old, spending the summer with my grandparents. My grandfather had just bought this tractor brand new, maybe a few months old by summer time. Anyway, we’re getting stuff ready to bale hay down the road, My grandmother had fallen off the hay wagon that morning and jammed her hand into the elevator and wasn’t going to be able to drive the tractor as she always did for us while we worked the wagon. So my grandfather took 7 year old me, tossed me into the driver’s seat, climbs up on the fender, said here take it down the drive. This is like landing on the moon, winning the Super Bowl or Daytona 500 or th Olympics all rolled into one for little 7 year old me. So I’m bouncing up and down, so I push the clutch in, start the tractor and reached over to put it in gear like I’d seen my grandfather do, I put it into D range, road gear, high gear. He reaches over turns the tractor off. Puts his hand on my sternum to get me to calm down his hands were huge but even still barely calmed down my excitement. The words he says next ring in my mind every time I climb onto a tractor to this day. “Christoph, You either take it slow or you ain’t doing this at all”. He then bumped me down to the slowest gear, A1 and proceeded to let me idle it down the drive. We did this back and forth, up and down the drive for what seemed like forever, slow as a snail. He then has me stop, he takes over, hooks up to that old New Holland square baler that has three wagons hooked behind it. We drive over to the hay field, I was puzzled because my grandmother was still in town getting checked out, I asked who was going to drive, he replies, you are. So that was it, a few minutes up and down the drive and a few turns and now little 7 year old me was driving a tractor baler and 3 wagons across a 10 acre field while my grandfather stacked them on the wagons. That was probably the longest day of baling hay I’ve ever done, and we had to make so many extra passes to collect the windrows I’d missed in my rookie turns. But he never complained.
Today, I had the special moment of teaching my 7 year old Whitley on the very same tractor, albeit not near as shinny and no baling hay. And no pap sitting on the fender, grinning like his 7 yr old grandson was grinning back at him. No, sadly and yet happily today, it was me sitting on the fender, letting Whitley drive. Nice and slow, a few turns, her grinning back at me, me choking back tears the best I can(thank God for dark sunglasses). Sadly this will be the last time she gets to drive this particular tractor as it will be sold at Auction on Saturday. But for a few moments, I felt like I did back on that hot July Day all them years ago.
Afterwards, a few short rides with the minions as baby Kendall and cousin Mallory joined us.
I’m still choking back tears( okay no I’m not, they rolling now) God I miss him.
