Old Truck, Old man, old times
by, 06-07-2012 at 08:56 PM (367 Views)
Was driving home the other day, when i noticed this old truck, out in the field, it was nestled up against a bluff 150 yards from the road. I have driven by here 200 times in the past 5 years, I don't remember ever seeing this truck before. it looked from the distance' to be a 40's chevy, farmer green and rust, shaded by the whispering aspens, it had the glimmer in the afternoon sun.
So I did what most would do, I turned down the grid, and headed for the old mans farm that owned the land, that this truck rested upon....
The Old man , is a gruff little fellow, if you get him worked up he is known to spit his teeth at you,, well not really , they,, his falsies just sorta jump out of his face if he gets going. His farm is the typical red barn , massy Ferguson farm, Chevy grain truck, and a John Deer Skidoo from the 70's all dressed neatly in the yard.
As I pull down the drive towards his house, he spots my truck and crosses the pasture to great me, with his drawn out grin , he slightly showed his tobacco stained teeth. he grumbles out a hello, And directly asks me to come over on Saturday and move some trees. My mind is already thinking, move trees, for a classic chevy truck, on a saturday, I could make this happen.
Well I know what I am in for if i ask about the old truck in the field, at least an hour long story starting with the truck and ending , I could never guess. But he is My Neighbour, so I dared to ask about the truck.
The story of the truck started like this, it was his first truck he ever bought new, it was in 1949, he told stories of him and that truck, and how it affected his life over all the years, things like how he met his wife, because of the truck, how he drove through a snow storm to get to the doctors , with his wife to deliver they're fourth child, how it pulled the tractor out of the field when it was stuck, the truck was part of the old mans life.
So I asked him why have i never noticed this truck before in the field, he replies with well its there every year after i have finished seeding. I Park it in the field, See that old truck carried the rocks in the box, when i hand pick this field, When the tractor was broke, that truck pulled the plow, when the harvest was in that old truck, brought the crop home, and when it was time that old truck hauled the crop to market. So I show that old truck the beginning and the end of every year, on a sunny day, out of respect, to the efforts of that old truck.
I asked the old man, you mean to say that truck still runs, RUNS he replies, catching his teeth in his hand.
It Runs Like it did they day they delivered it, maybe better. You could see the pride in his eyes, A great sense of confidence in his Field, in His Truck and his Life........
I spent a few hours there that evening, listening to the stories, I never did ask him to sell or trade me that old truck, and moved his trees for free.
Friendships are learned, Respect is Earned, and Love is Grown
The Dirty Dog