My mother was running a 280 farm (The Old Redfield Farm) by North Branch Mi, after the early death of my dad. When I was five, and we went to get the hay from the windrows with a hay pickup, that dumped onto a wagon, my mom set the model B on the row, selected the gear and throttle, and climbed up on the wagon with the pitchfork. When she told me I put the hand clutch in gear and folloed the row. She'd stop me at the end, climb off the wagon, and line up on the next row, and we repeated the process until the hay was in. Now, I live in Ca, and nobody believes this story. Ed Edwin Smith, from mi, entered 2003-03-04 |