Tuesday, April 7, 2020

Thrashing Days at the farm in the 50's Norb.s memories

Den’s quiz question #11 brought memories of “Thrashing Days” that I decided to write about. My earliest memories would probably have been about 1949. Come thrashing time all of the neighboring farmers would help each other. Every day they would move to a different farm, each farmer bringing their tractor and wagon. When it came our time I found it so exciting – so much so that I could not sleep the night before. There was only one negative and that was if Joe Smugala would be coming because he had a huge Chow dog. I don’t remember his name – he may not even have had a name, but he was black and I was afraid to death of him. I can remember whenever they came I would position Dad between me and the dog and hang onto to dad’s leg. Fortunately Joe was not normally on the traveling thrashing crew for reasons I don’t know. 
So on thrashing day Charlie Kralicek came pulling the thrashing machine with his Minneapolis Moline tractor, George Kralicek came pulling his wagon with his Minneapolis Moline Tractor. Cyril Kralicek came with himself, no tractor, no wagon, in his bib overalls and white tee shirt ready to drive and talk smart. Other farmers too – maybe the Palmers, Marlengas, Angels. Never Earl Russell who lived right across the road because he was hauling milk. Dad was not there first thing because he too was on his milk route. 
Preceding this day by a week or so, the oats was cut using an oats binder that created bundles of oats wrapped with twine. Then we had to “shock” the oats – not in the sense of electrical shock but to stack these bundles vertically in clusters by leaning them against each other. I was not good at this – I had a hard time keeping them from toppling over. The shocks of oats were left to dry until thrashing day.
On that day, the oats bundles were tossed onto wagons using pitch forks and hauled to the thrashing machine now being powered by the Minneapolis Moline revved to high RPMs powered with a belt about 30 feet long connecting a pulley on the tractor to a pulley on the thrashing machine. The tractor made lots of noise, no muffler – only a straight pipe – and no ear protection.
As you can imagine there were many jobs. Charlie usually stood atop the thrashing machine waiting for something to break. Charlie’s machinery was not in the best working order. It was never a question of IF but WHEN the breakdown would happen. He always seemed to get things working again even though he had just one tool in his kit – a hammer. Well actually he had two tools, both of them hammers – one small, one large. 

The thrashing work is only a part of the story. There was lunch break when everything stopped. Everybody was treated to a sit down meal. At our farm this was more like a feast and was “all in” preparing for this. When they moved on to other farms, Dad having been spoiled by Sylvia’s cooking was not always happy to eat elsewhere. When he would return home Mom’s first question was “what did she serve?” Dad was a pretty good food critic and his answers were not always in the most glowing terms. None of these were people in our close circle of friends. 

Then there was the mid afternoon beverage break – of which there might be more than one. The milk cooling tank had a couple of cases of beer – always “shorties” – I don’t think they even sell shorters anymore – Pabst or Schlitz.

Back to thrashing. By the look and sound of Charlie’s old thrashing machine it was nearing end of life.  Eventually no amount of pounding could revive it. That’s when Das moved to hiring somebody who owned a combine.  Fast forward to about 1955. 

This was the Kula brothers. I don’t think I’ve spelled their name correctly. I don’t know their first names – to  us kids they were the brothers. They had a John Deere combine powered by a Wisconsin engine and pulled by a very large and very old tractor. One of the brothers never spoke and I don’t think he could hear. The other brother had built a platform on the back of the tractor. The physically challenged brother sat on this platform facing the combine and watched so everything was in good order and would adjust the height of the sickle bar. We had them harvest the oats for 2 or 3 ye
ars.

Fast forward to about 1958 and wouldn’t you know Charlie Kralicek returns with a combine all his own. It was an off brand – maybe made by JI Case because it had colors as if it were a case.   


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