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The Rusty Ole Throne

The Rusty Old Throne by John Edwards on Saturday, November 6, 2010 at 2:20amP Everyone has a safe place or maybe just a cushy one. A place to think, a place to learn or a place to love. Mine was next to my hero, my Father! He was considered a troubled man by some, but these troubles did not concern a boy of 3. PI wish I could remember the exact day of my graduation but I do remember the strings of my mothers apron come loose as she passed me up to my father and said with intent eyes 'be careful with him Richard he's just a boy'! Just a boy, sounded awful good to me because previous to that it was' the baby'! That day my mother passed me up to my dad, inside chores were nearly all dropped, that was women s work. The day she passed me up I could see so much farther! As in business I was getting up in the world and had new perspective but with little clout as of yet.P You may ask where was I going up to? I was now a student of agriculture. At this young age I shadowed both my Grandfather and my Father until all the chores were done or I tuckered out! The rise in my stock was due to a giant insect of a machine we called an Allis Chalmers. It had enormous rear wheels and the front was narrow somewhat like a jet plane I thought. It had a bellowing motor with a smokestack just shy of a choo choo! It had a steering wheel of which Dad was a master at and a hand throttle to go fast ! 'Go vroom Daddy go vroom'! He would never disappoint and held that class right there on board the old tractor at the top of his lungs in order for me to hear over this verbis machine.P Did I sit in his lap ? Only on occasion. Did I stand up, yes some times but the brunt of the time on this steel school house was on my throne. It hurt my butt to ride on that throne that was hooked to the left rear fender but after several hundreds and maybe thousands of miles your keester firmed up and took it. You would have to watch out for the hasp on this throne because it would pinch ya, but it had a purpose because secrets were kept inside.Secrets to future life no doubt! There were items in there that a little boy would need for his days after his next graduation, the same day's that he would never be refereed to as 'too short in the britch'and be called Tractor Master or Master of allis or quite possibly a Farmer !P Normally a long tirade of 'S***, Dam, crap or hell would transpire seconds before the throne seat was opened! My father with his permanently grimed up hands would shut down our mechanical beast of burden and move me temporarily to the pilot's chair and proceeded to extract things he called tools. He would wave them around in his learned fashion and always recited more awe inspiring magic words such as (never mind I am supposed to never tell anyone these magic words per mother) but they sure were delivered loudly so the tractor Gods would hear! Low and behold the magic nearly always worked and Me Dad and Allis would be on our way once more.P As I grew older and the britch grew to operator length I was allowed journeyman status with my father trading places with me for mile after mile and speech after speech until finally the day was on us and I went solo. It did not transpire as as dramatically as I thought it would but it was a near sink or swim graduation. I drove Allis (now a close friend) down the blacktop to the designated field and was told previously what to plow. My confidence followed me in the old International truck (my father) and as I turned into the inlet to my work area I pulled up enough for the truck to park behind. To my dismay the old black truck drove on by. It took me a while sitting there to figure this odd occurrence out but the other shoe dropped and my brain kicked in and I realized this was it, it was as my father would have called 'a time to shine'!.P I got off and opened the gate, got back on and then re closed it as per the book. I picked out a spot in the field to start a good straight post to post plow line. I new this was imperative for the rest of the field and as I drove on I contoured some bad spots and adjusted the 2 bottom plow as to deal with the wet spots with poor traction. The tractor spoke to me through the gearbox with it deep wine and puffed smoke and bogged a touch to let me know when to shift. Before I finished the field I realized My professor had taught me well, I knew if I had to their was magic in the thrown and I was thankful to my father that I knew all the magic words!P PIn honor of my FatherPRichard EdwardsP PBy John R. Edwards III

John R. Edwards III, Mo, entered 2011-09-18
My Email Address: Not Displayed

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