by Joe Reinschmidt
This is another installment of Joe and Anna Reinschmidt’s life on Ogden Parma Town Line Road.
THINKSTOCKOne of the first crops Joe and Anna were able to harvest off their farm was some hay from a lot the previous owners had established. In doing so they enjoyed only one upgrade from the hay making process they had experienced in Germany. They had a labor saving, horse drawn sickle bar mower that cut the hay rather than hand mowing it with a scythe. The new mown hay then lay for a day or two of drying.
From there on it was essentially the same hand work process of raking the dried hay together and piling it up into “shocks.” They were round topped stacks that were usually about the size of what a grown man could pick up with a fork and throw onto the horse-drawn hay wagon. As usual, there was work for kids to do. When a shock was picked up some loose hay remained which kids raked together and placed on the wagon or a nearby shock so that the men could concentrate on moving forward and loading more shocks.
When the wagon was full it was off to the barn. The kids were usually allowed to clamber up the wagon rack and ride on the top. Our barn wasn’t of the type that you could drive the wagon into, so the wagon was parked adjacent to the barn near a large door opening to the second floor. Unloading started with a man on the wagon who threw forkfuls of hay onto the barn floor. From there it was pushed or carried over to a part of the barn where it would be stored. As the hay built up, it was necessary to compact it a little to save space. This was another kid’s job which initially seemed like fun – just romping around on the loose hay to pack it down. The fun faded soon as we realized that despite wearing long pants, stray pieces of hay got up your pant legs and scratched your calves and shins. Also dust and chaff got all over you no matter what you wore.
If it was ideal haying weather, it was hot and dry causing everyone to sweat which further aggravated the effects of the chaff. It wasn’t long after we started unloading that we would be yelling out to the man on the wagon “Can you see the floor boards of the wagon yet?” If the answer was yes, we knew this load was almost empty. However, we also suspected the man wouldn’t necessarily give us kids the true facts so we had to risk a sneak peek of our own to be sure. When it was empty we all enjoyed some refreshment and soon walked and/or rode the wagon to the field for another load. At the end of the day we headed for the creek with a bar of Ivory soap to wash off the day’s accumulation and sooth our skin.
Amazingly, it was not unusual for us to walk back to the hay field after supper. Standing there in the cool of the evening, the field appeared more like a garden. It was full of the sweet smell of new mown hay accented by the dampness of the dew. Other fragrances might be detected in the evening breeze and the cheery call of a bird in the hedgerow as twilight came upon us simply erased the difficulty of the day. It was like a reward for doing a good job. With that feeling of satisfaction, as we headed for the house, one could easily forget that you had to keep doing it for another day or two, or more, until all the hay was safely in the barn for that year.
