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One tractor of a member

Brings back good memories.
We had a small JI Case dealership south of St Louis in Cape Girardeau. My Father and I would take the tractor/trailer down to OKC twice a year and bring a load of wagon frames back.
My Father was born at home in 1923 on a 3200 acre farm. They had 340 head of horses and mules to farm with. I was the last of his sons to be born at home, in fall of 1949.
My Mother's younger brother was born in 1930. He wanted to fly. He would go to the local airport on his bicycle after school and do odd chores in exchange for flying lessons. After the war he would fly over my Folk's place and find my Father plowing or cutting hay or such and take him flying.
In those days, the farm wives made some side money selling eggs and butter at the county store. To celebrate my Father's birthday the first year they were married, she spent that money buying him a Fox 20 gauge side by side. Her brother had a 22 rifle. They would hunt Squirrels in the summer and fall, and Turkeys and Rabbits in the fall and winter. If the game stood still, my Uncle used the 22; if they ran/flew my Father used the 20 gauge. My Father ended up doing most of the shooting. My Uncle talked him into trading. That Thanksgiving, my Mother made the big family dinner. Two Turkeys, and all the trimmings. She bragged my Father up to High Heaven and that year's worth of Butter & Egg money that bought the 20 gauge. Finally, she tells my Father to go get the Fox. My Father tries to not do that. Mom goes into the closet and brings the soft case out to the dining room table. Opens the case, and out pops the 22. That meal did not end well. My Father told me, several years later, that he did not have to stoke the stove much to keep the house warm that winter.
I still have that 22 rifle...

ISS
 
Brings back good memories.
We had a small JI Case dealership south of St Louis in Cape Girardeau. My Father and I would take the tractor/trailer down to OKC twice a year and bring a load of wagon frames back.
My Father was born at home in 1923 on a 3200 acre farm. They had 340 head of horses and mules to farm with. I was the last of his sons to be born at home, in fall of 1949.
My Mother's younger brother was born in 1930. He wanted to fly. He would go to the local airport on his bicycle after school and do odd chores in exchange for flying lessons. After the war he would fly over my Folk's place and find my Father plowing or cutting hay or such and take him flying.
In those days, the farm wives made some side money selling eggs and butter at the county store. To celebrate my Father's birthday the first year they were married, she spent that money buying him a Fox 20 gauge side by side. Her brother had a 22 rifle. They would hunt Squirrels in the summer and fall, and Turkeys and Rabbits in the fall and winter. If the game stood still, my Uncle used the 22; if they ran/flew my Father used the 20 gauge. My Father ended up doing most of the shooting. My Uncle talked him into trading. That Thanksgiving, my Mother made the big family dinner. Two Turkeys, and all the trimmings. She bragged my Father up to High Heaven and that year's worth of Butter & Egg money that bought the 20 gauge. Finally, she tells my Father to go get the Fox. My Father tries to not do that. Mom goes into the closet and brings the soft case out to the dining room table. Opens the case, and out pops the 22. That meal did not end well. My Father told me, several years later, that he did not have to stoke the stove much to keep the house warm that winter.
I still have that 22 rifle...

ISS
Great Memories
 
I have not seen a field deep plowed in over 40-50 years in my area. It seems that method brings up decades of weed seeds in addition to erosion issues. I can attest to that from experience on our camps food plot fields where even discing for a new crop creates more weeds than frost seeding or broadcasting into an established crop.
some people got away from and have got away without doing it, but ripping 18 inches breaks compaction, gives the bios room to work and lets moisture get into the ground instead of running off the top because of compaction. I don't farm anymore but we chiseled about 12 inches every year every field...some say it's a waste fuel but my dad always said the ground needs to breathe..earthworms like it...but if it don't rain at critical silk and bean bloom it don't matter
 
My grandpa and his family picked cotton here in Arizona by hand many years ago. When they finally got to use this cotton picker they were amazed at what they could get done in a day.
 

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I was born and raised on a dairy farm. I missed those days as I loved the farm.
Now that I’ve retired besides shooting my second hobby is helping a local farmer occasionally. The next couple of weeks I’ll be operating this old girl but with an 8 row head. When the corn and beans are done I’ll be drilling small grain for next year’s crop.

EdiT: added pic of 8 row head.
 

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My grandfather had an old B Farmall. Tricycle front end. I still hate the thought of it. At 12 years old it took everything I had to turn it. Standing on the wheel brake while pulling on the steering wheel. Crank start on top of its other deficiencies. Pa told me one day he had sold it (best thing I had ever heard!) but we had to road it to the buyers place 12 miles away. With it in High gear ( using that loosely) and the wore out steering system off I go with him following. It took up 1 1/2 lanes of the Farm to Market road and sometimes about 8 feet of the bar ditch, I fought it with shear determination. With my Grand dad honking and yelling the whole trip. In turn he purchased a Ford 9, Man that thing was a cadillac compared to the Farmall
 
Brings back good memories.
We had a small JI Case dealership south of St Louis in Cape Girardeau. My Father and I would take the tractor/trailer down to OKC twice a year and bring a load of wagon frames back.
My Father was born at home in 1923 on a 3200 acre farm. They had 340 head of horses and mules to farm with. I was the last of his sons to be born at home, in fall of 1949.
My Mother's younger brother was born in 1930. He wanted to fly. He would go to the local airport on his bicycle after school and do odd chores in exchange for flying lessons. After the war he would fly over my Folk's place and find my Father plowing or cutting hay or such and take him flying.
In those days, the farm wives made some side money selling eggs and butter at the county store. To celebrate my Father's birthday the first year they were married, she spent that money buying him a Fox 20 gauge side by side. Her brother had a 22 rifle. They would hunt Squirrels in the summer and fall, and Turkeys and Rabbits in the fall and winter. If the game stood still, my Uncle used the 22; if they ran/flew my Father used the 20 gauge. My Father ended up doing most of the shooting. My Uncle talked him into trading. That Thanksgiving, my Mother made the big family dinner. Two Turkeys, and all the trimmings. She bragged my Father up to High Heaven and that year's worth of Butter & Egg money that bought the 20 gauge. Finally, she tells my Father to go get the Fox. My Father tries to not do that. Mom goes into the closet and brings the soft case out to the dining room table. Opens the case, and out pops the 22. That meal did not end well. My Father told me, several years later, that he did not have to stoke the stove much to keep the house warm that winter.
I still have that 22 rifle...

ISS
I believe the case dealer is still there in Cape Girardeau.
 
I have pretty much zero knowledge of farming, but, in dealing with the local Hutterites for goose hunting permission, went out on a ride a few times now, out with the farm boss on his AM tours a few times. This year was on a tracked JD pulling a tub on a 1/2 section of canola. He could control the combine speed from that tractor while he was loading, change the settings on the combine for the field at hand. I kinda chuckled at that, as 40 yrs ago, the farm boss he just took over from, was a teenager still, asking his dad for an AM radio for the truck, dad said nope, can't have one. Tried many times, many ways to get one, pops said no go. Now they have computers in the pickups, smart phones, they may try autodrive combines yet, they're selling stuff on FB, texting, full internet access, CNC lathes and milling machines. World has changed a lot since then.
 
The tornado that hit So Florida dropped a big oak limb on the fiberglass nose cone of my 2910 Ford, and crushed it. I thought "I will never find one to replace it!" Seems that some have trouble running into stuff and that someone is making them in quantity and they are readily available. My pastor asked me to mow 5 acres that are rough as a cob that we bought next to the church. He insisted that i charge them this time so I can replace the nose cone. I guess even preachers like a tractor that is not beat up.
 
I spent many hours on tricycle gasoline M's before I got a drivers license.

I saw a video on Oliver's history and eventual sale to White Motor Co. White bought them and bled the profits to keep White above water instead of investing in research and development. If that had not happened, and based on their designs, Deere and IH would be #2 and #3. For instance, Oliver built a prototype tractor with mechanical continuous shifting transmission that was junked when White took them over.
 
My 1949 Farmall M with a 271 GM Diesel conversion done by the Earle Equipment Co of Detroit sometime in the early to mid 50s.

She has driven over the Mackinac Bridge 3 times
Had the Farmall, 1947 vintage. It was my plow:
20190326_195641.jpg

And the Ford 900, 1958 vintage. It was my dirt mover:

Ford18.jpg

Had to work on them all the time. Either fuel or electric issues.
Replaced them both with a modern diesel tractor that starts every time I turn the key.

20190405_111432.jpg
 

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