This old hand colored photo used to hang in the farm house in the picture. I was looking at it recently, and tried to figure out when it was taken. My dad bought a 1951 Hudson in 1957, so I know it was before that, when we were riding in a Plymouth. I can see an open spot next to the catalpa grove where dad burned some outdated farm machinery; our milk cow; our New Idea corn picker;...and a tree that I remember my dad cutting down when I was a little guy.
That photo was taken before July 5, 1954, when this black and white picture was taken. The smell of this tree being cut up is one of my early memories. I wasn't quite three years old, but this event stuck in my head.
I took this photo in the late 1980's on a visit to the old home place. The corn crib was the last building left on our farm. That's Dad, EJ, and Mrs. TBS inside the crib. During my recent visit with Mom up in Iowa we drove by the farm but didn't stop to take any pictures. It is all just an open farm field now, without any sign that families once lived here.
This row of white pines was just north of the home site. I enjoy looking at this photo every winter, so I can remember how cold that old house was. I'm as sentimental as anyone about the good old days, but we sure are living more comfortably with insulation and high efficiency furnaces.
This old hand colored photo used to hang in the farm house in the picture. I was looking at it recently, and tried to figure out when it was taken. My dad bought a 1951 Hudson in 1957, so I know it was before that, when we were riding in a Plymouth. I can see an open spot next to the catalpa grove where dad burned some outdated farm machinery; our milk cow; our New Idea corn picker;...and a tree that I remember my dad cutting down when I was a little guy.
That photo was taken before July 5, 1954, when this black and white picture was taken. The smell of this tree being cut up is one of my early memories. I wasn't quite three years old, but this event stuck in my head.
I took this photo in the late 1980's on a visit to the old home place. The corn crib was the last building left on our farm. That's Dad, EJ, and Mrs. TBS inside the crib. During my recent visit with Mom up in Iowa we drove by the farm but didn't stop to take any pictures. It is all just an open farm field now, without any sign that families once lived here.
This row of white pines was just north of the home site. I enjoy looking at this photo every winter, so I can remember how cold that old house was. I'm as sentimental as anyone about the good old days, but we sure are living more comfortably with insulation and high efficiency furnaces.
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