While we were still gathered, Dad gave a blessing for the food then as soon as he had finished, people sprang into action. More tables were brought and setting them commenced. From the four families that had moved in with Butch and Clare, there were plenty of plates, cups and utensils. For this meal we even needed knives. Besides the pork, Clare had mashed a huge pot of potatoes and some tomato gravy. I guess she didn’t need ours. Our salads were an excellent addition to the fare. And there were several pitchers of that good spring water and some even had a little powdered lemonade mix added. Soon Butch, with the help of a few others, came with four big trays of the pork and we sat down to eat a fine meal.
As we ate, I surveyed the families that were now our new neighbors. There was one elderly couple, who probably couldn’t have fended for themselves. I was glad they found their way here. Of course there was Ben and his wife, with their three college-age sons. Another family, the Smith’s, with their six children, the youngest one named Robbie who was in my Sunday School class. And finally Dan and his wife Julie, who had two girls ages five and seven and a new set of twin boys, just two months old. They were the center of attention; every female there had to hold them.
As we finished, it was evident that our little bit of fruit salad didn’t go very far as the only desert.
“Eat up the pork, if you’re still hungry,” Butch declared. “It won’t keep til tomorrow.” So we did, in fact everything was gone, but no one was complaining they hadn't enough. We started cleaning off the tables and carrying the dishes.
“No hurry,” said Clare. “We have to wait for hot water. Butch and Ben
have put the big butcher kettle on the spit where the pig was. The water should be hot enough in about a half hour. Let’s just set a spell.”
No problem for me. Robbie produced a deck of UNO cards, so Lynette, I, he, and his two youngest sisters, Molly and Susan, started a game on one of the now cleared tables. Most of the adults were sitting right behind me.
I heard Dad ask, “I’ve been wondering about Reverend Schneider and the church; has anyone been there in the last few weeks?”
Lee Smith, Robbie’s dad answered, “Took the whole family last week. There were only a couple cars in the parking lot, but I bet 100 bicycles. We had ridden ours; Reverend Schneider rode his, too. I think he’s doing fine, by the way. Must have been 300 people there, but I bet not even a third were members. Most were just people who lived right around the church, those who could easily bike or walk. Some were members at other churches too far away to go to or perhaps were not having services. But I got the impression there were many who rarely if ever went to church. Seems like this collapse woke ‘em up a little. Church was sure different, too. In part I mean the building itself; no lights, no organ, no bulletins, no electric drums or guitars, no air conditioning.”
“But we’re getting used to no air conditioning,” Jean said.
“You might be,” said Mom, “But I sure miss it.”
“We miss a lot of things,” Sandy said, “What else about church?”
Lee continued, “The service itself was like.....well… one big explanation.”
“Explaining what?” Jake asked.
“Different things. Our beliefs, from the beginning. The Garden of Eden. Sin. Who Jesus was; why we confess sins. What the Lord’s Prayer is. Salvation. Being born again. I think Reverend Schneider was trying not to alienate the unchurched in attendance. I tell you he didn’t scare them away with the offering basket. There was none; it was weird. But why bother, nobody has any money, nor does the church need any. There are no bills to pay. However, people brought some produce or some canned goods for the minister. Also he kept his message simple, like your Dad’s; talked about faith and hope and to trust Jesus and not worry too much about what is going to happen in the future.”
“What is going to happen in the future?” Lois asked.
“Who knows?” said Clare, “Who knew this was going to happen?”
“Dad did,” Josh said. All eyes turned to Dad; we even paused our card game.
Dad held his hands up in front of him and quizzically said “What, am I E.F. Hutton?”
“No, you’re not,” Butch chuckled, “but you did know this was going to happen.”
“I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen. Just knew something had to happen. Couldn’t keep going the way it was. I just made some logical deductions or assumptions based on the facts and a lot on what other much smarter people than me had said or written. As to what is next, I don’t have any strong feelings one way or the other. We’ve been doing without the mass media now for what, six, eight weeks? I’ve little information to go on. Has anyone heard anything, perhaps by radio or from travelers? Has anyone heard about trouble in the region, anything?”
“I haven’t,” Ben said. No one else did either.
Dad continued, “So do we have to prepare for an attack and build barricades? I think not. China and Russia made a huge mistake by allowing Iran to destroy Jerusalem. It wasn’t only a holy place for Christians and Jews. It also housed the Dome of the Rock, an extremely sacred place to the Muslims. Plus, they’ve caused death, destruction, and radiation sickness in a sizable part of the Islamic world. Now worldwide the fanatical and even the more moderate Islamists are mad at Iran, China, and Russia. We are no longer the main enemy for either group. They hate each other now. I think our image as Americans appears much better to them than it did a year ago.”
“We just have to concern ourselves with food, water, heat, shelter and things here at Crystal View Farm and Harvey’s dairy. But I will make one prediction, which some of you have heard already. There will be more people coming and we need to be ready.”
“But the good news,” said Butch, “Is that whoever comes will have skills. They’ll have hands to work and brains to think. Look how we already have a butcher and contractors. Ben here’s an electrical engineer, Dan’s a chemist and Lee’s a machinist. Many who come will bring additional skills. Sure some who come might be dead weight, but we have to care for them just like the sheep did in Jesus’ description of the judgment.”
“Slowly but surely, we’re getting ready,” Larry said, “And Butch, would you finish that story about Roger? He hasn’t been around for several days.”
“He’s very busy,” Butch answered, “he must have over 400 hogs. With no electricity for ventilating fans and to run the water pump, he had to remake a lot of the pens so all the hogs could get some fresh air and be able to get to his creek to drink. Back when it was so hot, a dozen or so did die. They seem to be acclimated to the changes now. He still has to shovel or bucket all his corn and barley out of the grain bins and carry it to the herd. Even has to carry some water into the farrowing house for the sows that are birthing, plus milk those two cows you gave him. Fortunately several neighbors stop over every day to help. He’s been roasting a pig every day to feed his helpers and somehow get his herd numbers down. He’s gotten rid of about fifty to three other farmers like you and me, but I think he said last week alone he had three litters born which increased the herd by 41.The work just doesn’t go away; that we know from here. Maybe a greater concern is that some of his hogs are now about three to four weeks past market weight. He’s not feeding them as much, of course, but some are still getting mighty heavy. They’re too big to butcher and be able to eat all at once, even for a couple dozen people. That’s where you come in, Joe. You’re the butcher, right?”
“Yes I am,” Joe answered, “But we’re too busy at Harvey’s for me to run over to Roger all the time.”
“Actually,” Butch said, “he knows that. What he was hoping you could do was accompany me over there on our next trip, look over his operation and perhaps give him some ideas on how he could use some of those bigger hogs.”
Joe responded, “Until we get much colder weather, it’s going to be quite a challenge. It will be for us here, too. I’ve had it on my mind ever since we moved in with Harvey. I’ll think about it more and certainly I’ll be glad to go with you next time.”
“Roger has quite a few acres of corn and soybeans to harvest doesn’t he?” Dad asked.
“Yes he does,” Butch responded, “he told me he’s saving diesel fuel for the combine so the soybeans can be harvested; the corn can be harvested by hand.”
“Same as we’re thinking,” Jeremiah said. “He’ll be all right; we’ll all pull through this together.”
“Good attitude,” Dad replied. “Another thing, Butch, you and I need to talk about feeding Brutus. We have a good supply of clean grass hay and a little dry corn, but can he handle fresh corn? Pop says oats would be best. Do you have a good supply?”
“You can start him on fresh corn now – maybe three or four ears a day. With this spell of dry weather you must have some that’s fairly dry by now.”
“I think our driest corn is up here on your farm in the field next to the woods,” Larry said, “If you need it for your horses, help yourself.”
“Thanks,” Butch responded, “I noticed that field was pretty dry. That’s where I pulled some for the cows. As far as oats, I have a pretty big pile in the barn. Remember you harvested it for me. If you just take a bag a week for Brutus, that would be good for him, and still leaves me plenty for my horses.”
“We appreciate it,” Dad said, “What do we owe you?”
“Nothing, you’ve done enough already,” Butch answered.
“Also,” Dad said, “We need to save some oats to plant next spring. And don’t feed any to the cows or pigs; they can do without it.”
“Right, the horses are first priority. “And we do need to save some for seed; however, I have four full bags of seed leftover from this spring.”
“Wonderful,” Larry said. “now we have to figure out how to prepare ground for planting, sow the oats and then harvest them without fuel.”
“No, not now,” Joe jumped in, “we’ve time to plan that. Now would be a good time to have a soccer match. Aren’t you all tired of talking? Let’s go compete.” He got the attention of me and the other kids, but his directions were to the adults, too. The younger ones jumped up, just as we did.
“Where are we playing?” Jake asked.
“There’s a pretty flat hayfield, right behind the barn,” Joe answered, “Not too high; must have been one of the last fields you baled when you still had fuel.”
“It was,” said Larry, “and we can carry a few bales of straw out of the barn for goals, too.” We had a nice match, even with the adults helping. We didn’t keep score, of course, but our side won 6-4. Afterwards, we all got drinks and splashed ourselves with that cool water from the horse trough. As we headed back toward the house, Robbie called Lynette and me aside. His two older sisters and Amy joined us.
“See that woman over there?” Robbie asked, “The one who has the twins.”
“That’s Julie,” Amy said.
“Right,” said Robbie, “That’s the one. She’s big trouble.”
“Trouble?” I asked, “what you mean? She’s real nice.”
“Yeah on the outside,” Robbie said, “But when she’s not a mom, I’m sorry to say, she’s a teacher.”
“A teacher!” Lynette exclaimed.
“Yeah a teacher, and like I said, BIG trouble!”
To be continued… Mort
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