621 W. Willow Street Cherokee, Iowa 51012
I wrote this little poem for the ‘rust hunters.’ I
don’t get out as much as I’d like to, as I have had a lot
of sickness of late. So, I sit at my computer and dream of the
time, Lord willing, I will go ‘hunting’ again. I had 37 gas
engines when I had a heart attack in ’86. I also had six old
tractors, all restored, but I had to sell out as the doctors said
I’ll have more problems if I don’t! I miss my old iron and
the ‘big hunt.’ I have met so many good people with this
hobby! People who don’t do it just can’t imagine the
friendship that one can find!
The Find of the Day
I was going down the road one day, I happened to look out in a
field of hay, Over by the fence I saw a pile of matter, I looked
closer and saw it was a tractor. It was a mess but, I like them
best. When I stopped to check it out, The farmer asked what it was
all about. I told him I liked this kind of stuff, We looked at it
and boy it was rough. The farmer said it was old and bad, It sat
there so long, it looked so sad. We talked about it for awhile,
Then he got a real big smile. When I asked him if it was for sale,
He said, ‘That mess I’d like to sale.’ He said the deal
sounded nice, When we settled on the price. He told me to come in
the old barn, I saw a tractor that had no harm. We talked about
that tractor too, I asked if he would sell it too. I said I’d
like to have the pair, He said okay when the price was fair. When
we took them home the next day, I had no trouble in any way. They
both now shine and run so good, Just as I always thought they
would!
PS. There is a tractor called a C.O.D., I think it was built in
Minneapolis, Minnesota, in the early Twenties or so. What does the
C.O.D. stand for? I have a friend who has one of these.