The year was 1943, I was 13, and the country was at war. Gas was rationed, as were butter and meat and nylon stockings. To buy a bike you had to get a priority permit. If you were under 45 and over 18, you were eligible to be drafted. Farmers were short of manpower because their sons and daughters were in the military. And I had a farm adventure.
Patriotism Leads to Farm Adventure
A "Help the Farmer" plan was devised: Boys age 13 and older were asked to volunteer their summer vacations to work on a farm. In New York City, school vacation was in July and August, and if you volunteered you got June off as well. I immediately volunteered—getting an extra month off sparked my patriotism.
A total of 250 boys from NYC volunteered. The only grass most of us had ever seen was in the park, and the only wildlife we'd seen were cats, dogs, mice, rats and roaches.
The great farm adventure started when we were sent to Cobleskill, NY, to an agricultural college. We were taught that milk comes from cows, not bottles. Most farms in those days still used horses to cut grass and pull wagons. That summer, 250 boys were taught to harness and drive a team of rather large plow horses. As much information about farming as could be stuffed into our city-boy brains about farming was accomplished that summer.
50 Cows and One Busy Bull
After two weeks we got our assignments. I was teamed with a boy named Nick—a big, strapping, Italian boy from the Bronx. I was from Brooklyn. Needless to say, we were a little nervous. Or maybe he was a little nervous and I was a lot nervous. Our farm adventure had begun for real.
We were assigned to a dairy farm in the Adirondack Mountains. That was as far away from home as me or Nick had ever been. The farm had 250 acres, and hay, oats and corn were grown, most of it feed for the cows during the winter. There were 50 cows--a mix of Holsteins and Jerseys, and one very busy bull.
The barn was huge, well, at least in our eyes. It had places to milk 50 cows, a huge loft, four cats to keep the rodent problem in check, and a big red roof.
The house had been remodeled to keep up with the times. It had a fully modern kitchen and a huge vegetable garden out back. It had four bedrooms, a big living room with a real fireplace, and three bathrooms. Nick and I both came from apartment-dwelling families and that house was the first single-family dwelling that we had ever stayed in. It was the first time I had a room of my own. The farm was owned by Jasper and Alice Voorheese. Their roots went back to the Mayflower, and the farm had been in the Voorhees family for 150 years.
At first Jasper was a little apprehensive about this arrangement, but not half as much as me and Nick. Jasper was a giant of a man, with the biggest hands we'd ever seen. He wore his emotions on his sleeve; he laughed and cried easily. Alice was petite with a lovely smile and a tinge of sadness in her eyes. Maybe that was because she was unable to have children. The daughter of a farmer, Alice had been to college and, in fact, had taught in the little one-room schoolhouse across the road from the farm. This lady could cook, and she never used the modern range they had. She used a wood-burning stove and she would put Rachel Ray to shame.
The cows were milked twice a day, morning and evening. We were up at 4:30 and into the barn at 5, and after a night of grazing out in the meadow the cows were waiting with udders crossed. Luckily, we had cow milking machines but they weren’t perfected as they are today; when the machine stopped, we had to sit down on a stool and finish the job. That was called stripping, but it had nothing to do with X-rated material.
Jasper would be in tears from laughing as the angry cows kicked over our milk buckets. The cows were angry because they knew we didn’t know what we were doing. As we were stripping the cows, the cats would watch with mouths open and we would squirt warm milk into their mouths. I remember one cat brought a dead mouse and laid it next to my bucket. I guess he was saying thanks for the milk.
Farm Adventures with Tom, Jerry, and the Pig
I remember vividly the day I helped Jasper harness Tom and Jerry, the two big plow horses, to the hay cutter. He told me, “Start at the end of Alice’s garden and cut straight rows to the road.” The horses knew exactly what to do but as we proceeded up the rows sitting behind these two mammoth horses, I couldn’t help thinking, “If my friends could see me now.” We cut hay until lunchtime, then I took off the harnesses and—it sounds goofy—but I actually kissed both horses. Jasper couldn’t wait to tell Alice.
After cutting the hay we stood it in rows in the field, loaded the big hay wagon with hay, and Tom and Jerry pulled the full wagon back to the barn. Then we pitchforked the hay into the barn. It was a lot of work—a full seven days. Nick and I were in bed every night by 7 o’clock.
Japer raised a pig every year. This pig surely didn’t look like Porky Pig, let me tell you. It had stiff black hair and looked more like a boar. It was also very mean. It got loose one afternoon and we went looking for it.. When I found it in a clearing in the woods, it looked at me and snorted and started pawing the ground. I was up a tree quicker then any monkey. Jasper showed up and threw a rope around its neck, it didn’t move or make a sound. Jasper looked up at me then sat down next to the pig and laughed. I swear that pig was laughing also.
The next day I stood behind the manure spreader and said to Nick, "Go!” Well he went alright, and I was covered in manure. Japer was beside himself from laughing. Ten minutes later I heard Alice laughing too.
Jerry's farm adventure comes to an end, but the story doesn't stop. What happens to Nick, Jasper and Alice? Jerry revisits the farm with his own kids, and the connection continues in part 2 of "My Farm Adventure."
