We did receive a few dozen eggs from an unexpected source. The Tuesday after Larry had finished combining the soybeans, Titus Weaver returned for another load of hay. True to his promise he brought sweet potatoes for Poppop. He also had a passenger, Sam Burke. Sam brought with him a crude drawing of how he makes power driven hay mowers into ground driven ones. After a little discussion on how we adapted our equipment to sow our wheat, Sam, Larry, Aaron, and Dennis headed up to the equipment shed to show him the equipment and check out his plans.
Titus had very little produce to trade that day. His fields were pretty well cleaned out, yet food was in demand so it didn’t take long for him to move his wares. At least he was able to barter eight dozen eggs from one customer to trade to us.
“Wonderful!” Dad exclaimed. “Now that we have a flour mill and Jean is baking bread, I could sure eat a scrambled egg sandwich.”
“You have a mill up and running?” Titus inquired.
“Yep,” answered Dennis, “it’s slow and has to be tended continuously to function well, but we’re grinding wheat and corn.”
“Any neighbors bring you grain to grind?” Titus asked.
“No, not yet; I mean we grind our grain for Butch and Clare up the road, but no one else has brought any grain to grind. Don’t know that we’d want to anyway; that would tax the machine if we did too much for other people.”
“Yes, I suppose it would,” Titus answered. “However, Sam should take a look at its design and pass it on to some of our mechanically minded brethren.”
“Sure, he should do that,” Dad agreed.
“I see you’re getting your corn in,” Titus offered.
“Yes, little by little,” Harvey said. “It’s a lot of work, but with all the extras around here, we’ll get it done. The challenge is where to put it all. We couldn’t fill silage bags, like we usually do; didn’t have the fuel to spare. How is your community bringing in the corn?”
“Almost the same as you,” Titus replied, “shocking, picking and husking by hand. But we filled silo as well.”
“You filled silo?” Harvey quipped. “Where you find all that fuel?”
“Only used a little,” was Titus’s answer. “Two members of our community had stationary ensilers stashed away in their sheds; you know, the kind that chops and blows the stalks right into the silo. They were once driven by belt from the belt pulley that older tractors had. Both had been converted to be driven by gasoline engines that took just a few gallons per silo. We moved them from farm to farm, until everyone had their silo filled. All the other work we did by hand – cutting, loading on the wagons, hauling in with the horses, and feeding into the ensiler. Sure gave us a valuable source of feed, and all those townsfolk pitched in, too.”
While we were loading the hay on Titus’s wagon the conversation led away from farming when Titus asked, “Everybody know what today is?”
“Sure, it’s Tuesday,” Jeremiah responded. “Isn’t it?”
“Yeah, the first Tuesday,” continued Titus, “after the first Monday in November.”
“Why it’s election day!” a somewhat surprised Harvey replied. “I guess we forgot because for once we didn’t have to listen to all those annoying commercials for months ahead of the election.”
“By golly, your right,” Dad added. “It’s a meaningless election day, however. Today we were supposed to elect county commissioners, school directors and the like. We even had nominees to choose from. Pennsylvania was able to hold its primary in May, prior to the collapse.”
“With no state or county government, there’s no one to run an election,” Barry said.
“But with no government or schools, who needs those public offices anyway?” Joe asked.
“Well, we don’t need them right now,” Dad responded. “Don’t know what the future holds.”
“Do you suppose the current officials just keep their positions, even if there’s no job to do?” Harvey inquired.
“Suppose so,” Barry agreed. “I wonder what all our government officials have been thinking the last five months?”
“I reckon most of them got a wake-up call,” Joe replied.
“How so?” Titus wondered.
“Well,” Joe explained, “most government officials, with a few some exceptions, felt the people existed for the government – not the government for the people.”
“Like Lincoln said,” I interjected.
“Like Lincoln said,” Joe continued. “government ‘of the people, by the people, for the people’. Too many elected and for that matter, appointed officials, thought the government came first and the people, second. That the people could not exist without the government; that we could not take care of ourselves; that the government was the savior of the people.”
“I guess that proved out wrong,” Barry said.
“Sure did,” Harvey agreed. “The government couldn’t save squat; couldn’t even save itself.”
“But we’re still here,” Josh chimed in. “The people still do exist, without government.”
“The people will always exist, as long as God wills,” Titus said. “It was the rest of that line from the Gettysburg address: ‘shall not perish from the earth’ I believe it went. Governments wax and wane, are born and die, but before and after government are the people.”
“People that are better off without government,” Barry announced.
“Some would agree with you,” Dad said, “those with enough food, water, clothing, and a roof over their heads. But what about those who are cold and hungry right now?”
“Those who were foolish enough to depend on the government for their well being,” Barry countered, “got what they deserved.”
“Or were too lazy,” added Bruce.
“Whoa, that’s pretty callous,” bemoaned Titus.
“But realistic,” responded Harvey.
“Anyway, Barry,” Bruce said, “you wondered what our elected officials were thinking. I wonder what they are doing.”
“Same as before….. nothing!” Jeremiah quipped.
“Oh, no,” Josh offered, “they aren’t doing nothing. In fact it gives me great comfort to presume that some of them, hopefully the ones that got us into this mess, are doing the same things everyone else is doing: finding their own food, carrying water, chopping wood and forking manure.”
“As unkind as that might be, I guess you may find comfort in that thought,” Harvey replied. “Although I’d wager that the officials most responsible prepared for themselves secluded hideaways, like some tropical island, with all the things they’d need to be comfortable for years. But I imagine the vast majority are in the same boat we are and need our help.”
“Which you’ve demonstrated well that you’re willing to give,” Barry said.
“And many others have also,” Titus added.
“You finding people generally cooperative?” Dad asked.
“Unbelievably so,” Titus answered.
“But food is not in short supply yet,” Joe commented. “Spring is a long time from now.”
“So it is,” Titus responded. “We’ll just have to conserve what we have, look for alternative ways to produce food, and keep the faith.”
“Yes we will,” agreed Harvey just as Sam Burke, Larry and the others joined us.
“If Sam’s ready, it’s time we get this load of hay home,” Titus announced, “although I hate to leave this stimulating conversation.”
“We’ll hold the thoughts until you return,” Dad said. “That’s if you’re planning to come for more hay. Or do you have what you need?”
“I believe I’m set pretty well for the winter, but some of my neighbors might have tighter supplies. Do you still have some to spare?”
“We have a good supply, but the pasture stops growing now,” Harvey replied.
“And it won’t take long for the cattle to graze the rye and other grain fields off, so we will have to feed more hay. It’s close figuring, but we should be able to part with four or five more loads.”
“Well, we might be back for some then,” Titus replied. “Anything we should be on the lookout for you?”
“Ideas,” Larry answered, “especially any for making electricity or fuel and for converting other machinery to ground drive. Sam gave us quite a few already, but more are welcome. He can fill you in on the way home.”
“All right then,” Titus answered and down the road he went. No sooner had he reached the end of Harvey’s meadow and disappeared from sight when Butch and Ben came down the road from the other direction.
As Butch eased his Clydesdales to a halt it appeared he wasn’t his usual boisterous self. He dropped the reins, planted his elbows on his knees, looked sadly at my elders and softly announced, “Got some bad news.”
To be continued......... Mort
