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I started very early in life helping my dad, but apparently early on my help didn’t help much. In 1941, my dad was in the midst of building a new barn on our farm. The time was too early for me to remember, but this was a story told on me and documented with pictures. Apparently my mom had left me with Dad while he was working on the new barn. I was to help him while he watched me. So I was busy laying the nails out on the ground so he could nail the big boards in place. I guess I either finished my job or got tired of “working,” and I wandered away. When Dad looked up, I was gone.

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Community, Pages 5 on 03/10/2010

Print Headline: Now & Then Dad had farming in his blood

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