During the summer a thrashing machine pulled by a tractor passed by our house from time to time. It was always exciting to watch it go by. It was pulled slow with men standing on it to make sure it cleared tree limbs and possible low power lines. I never knew where it was going. Its owner had been hired to so work somewhere. In 1940's they were becoming a rare site and a cause for wonderment. The one day it came to our house.
The excitement was high when a thrashing machine pulled onto our property in the summer of 1948. It was pulled by a John Deere Tractor or Johnny Popper as they were called for their unique engine popping sound. To one side was a large spinning pulley or power take off. A wide canvas belt was place around the power take off then run up to the thrashing machine to power it up. Once the belt was put in to place and started to turn the thrashing machine would slowly come to life. It would shake and rumble with all its clanking belt chains, spinning cogged pulleys. The grass was pitched on to a conveyor belt that carried up and into that mysterious machine. As a kid I had no idea what evils took place in that living thing's insides. All I could see was the large pipe spewing dust into the air and firing chaff into a pile. As it shook as it was some living thing it slowly poured the tiny grass seeds into a bag. This was big time.
Neighbors came over to help feed the contraption. Many brought over their own grass to feed it. The whole process didn't take long. A half day at most. When we were finished each farmer collected his bag of seed and went home. What I was surprised about was how small the volume of seed that was collected. Unlike the great amounts of wheat and barley I later combined in eastern Oregon that were measured in pound and better yet tons. These amounts were measured in ounces and pounds for all that work. Although I suspect its value was great. The seeds were very tiny and it didn't take a lot seed to plant an acre. But it was exciting for an eight year old boy.
Today we only see thrashing machines in farm shows or steam ups. But in the late 1940s they could still be found in rural areas. The combine harvesters were well developed. But for small amounts of grass a thrashing machine worked fine. Many of the farmers on the Lower River Road were small acreage farmers. Making a living off of 15 to 30 acres. Some had dairy cattle; others farmed garden vegetable and sold them at road side stands. Most were older long time farmers. Many of the younger farmers were people returning from the war and had the land before they left. The younger guys all had jobs away from home and as we did. I guess we would be called hobby farmers today. Why did the thrashing machine come to our house?
Sometime around 1946 or 47 the property to the east of our place was being sold off. Mostly divided up into large parcels for people to build on. Not lots, yet, but an acre or more. So people bought the land next to our house and built their home next to our driveway, much to the chagrin of my parents. So to prevent any more cozy neighbors from hemming us in my folks purchased the land portion at the back of our property for additional pasture land and prevent people from building there.
Most farmers flooded irrigated their property from a network of ditches fed from the Savage In order for this type of irrigation to work the land needed to be graded away from the ditch that went through the back of our property. So once we bought the land it was surveyed then graded. At intervals a ridge was graded in. They ran the length of the field away from the ditch. They looked much like speed bumps. They were to channel the water along the length of the field. Once grass was planted and the ground settled down it was hard to tell they were there until you drove over them. It took a while for the grass to mature so the cattle to graze on it. So to recover the cost of the grass seed it was allowed to go to seed its first year. It was then cut, dried and thrashed to recover that seed. I was never sure it paid for itself. But if a number chipped in for the thrashing machine it most likely didn’t cost much.
The grading was done by our neighbor Pat McFadden. He used his horse and a Fresno grader to level the field. It is a wide bucket with a bladed edge that is pulled across the ground skimmed off the dirt. On the back is a long handle that would tilt up the Fresno to dump the dirt. On the front were a couple skids that allow the lifted bucket and clear the ground to dump. It worked great and was the way roads and other leveling was done long before road graders or the huge scrapers were used as we see on construction sites today.
That was not the only time the thrashing machine came to our neighborhood. A short time later it came to Pat McFadden's house. I am not sure of the event. It was at the time our sister, Barbara, was born. My mother was in Josephine General hospital giving birth. At the same time Wayne and I had been promised a trip to Camp White near Medford to see and air show. World War Two planes were going to perform a dog fight. We couldn’t wait. But first we had to help with the thrashing. At noon Lucy McFadden had a big crew dinner in her dining room. The only time I remember that room being used.
Then we had to go to the hospital to see our mother and sister. Except kids were not allowed in the hospital in those days. Also mom had to stay in the hospital for a number of days and in bed. Was anything wrong? No that is how it was done. So we had to wait in the car. In the meantime the air show was under way. Well between the thrashing bee, the hospital. Well we didn't make it in time to see the dog fight. We did get to see the planes. Ah well. I still think about missing the airshow. In those days a drive to Medford was not the forty five minutes it is today. No I-5. Just Highway 99 weaving its way along the river and through the country side.
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