Farmall / International Archives - Page 17 of 144

Below is a short story my son Henry wrote about the tractor in the pictures. The tractor was purchased in 1954 by my grandfather. He later traded it in and it was sold to the Gwin Family. I grew up, got married and ended up going to church with the Gwins. They came to love our boys, Henry and Blythe, and decided to give them this tractor. By this time it was in poor condition, but my daddy, Tom Brown Pressley, was up for the challenge of restoring it. He ordered many parts from Steiner to help in the restoration.
Jane Glenn

Henry and his little brother Blythe, checking out the tractor soon after it arrived at their home.

The Life of a Tractor

by Henry Glenn

It is one o’clock in the afternoon. The birds are singing and the sun is shining. I am sitting in the pasture that belongs to Tom Brown Pressley, a farmer in Lowrys, South Carolina. Budding trees like oak and pecan and dogwood add color to the woods. All around me are tractors that were used years ago, but eventually were not needed anymore. There are also two tall silos that were used decades ago but are not needed anymore because Mr. Tom Brown has quit the dairy business. Now he has beef cows and other tractors.

I remember the days when I was able to drive through the cotton fields, plowing up the weeds so they wouldn’t overtake the hundreds of rows of short plants full of fluffy white blooms. That was a long time ago, back in the 1950s. I have good and bad memories of those days, working for Mr. Brent Pressley. I was delivered to his 800-acre dairy farm in the late winter of 1954. In fact, the pasture I’m sitting in now used to be his peach orchard!

The day Mr. Brent bought me from the dealer, he came onto the yard and greeted the salesman.

“Hey, how are you?” he said, as he stuck out his hand with a smile.

The salesman shook his hand and they went on with their business. Mr. Brent talked to the salesman for a long time, then finally they started walking over towards me.

“If you need a tractor that makes a good use of time, then the Farmall Super M-TA is the one for you. It has a torque amplifier that allows you to shift gears without stopping,” the salesman said eagerly.

After a long talk with the salesman, they walked slowly into the office. After about thirty minutes they came out and started loading me onto a trailer.

Next thing I knew, I was arriving at the Pressley farm. The Pressleys planted lots of crops and needed lots of equipment for the different uses around the farm. I was particularly used for plowing the land. At that time, they had three tractors: an Allis Chalmers CA, which was used to plant crops, a Massey Ferguson, and me. As we pulled into the driveway, there were large fields all around me. This farm produced, of course, cotton. Cotton was grown on many farms in that day and the more you grew, the more money you made. There were also peaches and wheat. Peach trees were beginning to bud, and the corn and wheat would be planted after I plowed up the fields.

The most important investment at the farm was the milk cows. The cows would be milked twice a day, morning and evening. The milk from the cows would go into ten-gallon cans and then was put into a cooler. The man from Shamrock Dairy in Chester would put it in his truck and take it back to town. When the cows were not being milked, they would graze. In that time, Mr. Brent, his three sons, and six other folks worked the farm.

Finally, we had reached the end of the driveway and slowed to a stop. Mr. Brent started to unhook the chains and back me off the trailer. I was nervous backing off the rickety trailer but it turned out fine. Mr. Brent drove me over to the shed to show me to his sons, Jimmy, Tom Brown, and John Neely. Even their younger sister, Joan, came out to see. They all admired me and each one took a turn driving me around the pasture. After a little while, it was time for lunch and they all went inside to eat. Unfortunately, I was left all to myself for about an hour, even though it felt like three. After the time passed they all came back out and Jimmy came straight towards me with a smile on his face. Jimmy was the oldest of the boys, 6 foot 4 inches tall, and heavyset. He played football at Clemson until he injured his knee and had to come home. Today, he hopped on and pulled me out of the shed. We drove through a pasture and down a road to some bare fields. He hooked me up to a plow that was already there and I started plowing. This field was going to be planted with cotton. While I was plowing I saw a snake, a rabbit, and some deer. It made me feel good to see all sorts of wildlife. After we finished we drove back to the shed where he parked me and jumped off. He sprayed me with the nice cool water from the hose so I would stay clean. It felt great to know that I had been useful that day and that I was clean.

Some days I was not so clean. Those were the days I pulled the manure spreader. The cows would poop in the milk barn lot, a concreted waiting area outside the milk barn. When it was scraped up into a big pile, another tractor would come with a bucket on the front and scoop it up and dump it into the manure spreader. Then I would pull the spreader, and the teeth in the back of the spreader would go to work spreading the manure all over the fields. This would add nutrients to the land. On these days, I left the field dirty and stinky, and I was really happy if they squirted me down with the hose.

Months passed and the farm was very busy. One day Tom Brown, Mr. Brent’s teenaged son, got me out of the shed and I was able to roll my wheels, but I had a feeling something was going to go wrong that day. He climbed up and got in the seat. We drove to the Frazer Farm and headed out through the pasture. The grass was very tall and it was hard to see where we were going. Suddenly, I heard a loud crack and felt a little pain. I looked down and my front tricycle wheels had folded under me when we tried to go through a low spot. Tom Brown was very upset and crying! He knew that it would cost a lot to get me repaired and he felt badly that he had damaged me. Mr. Brent was not very upset though. I was repaired and soon went back to work on the farm.

Years passed and sadly Mr. Brent traded me back in to the dealer for another tractor because he wanted a bigger tractor. I preferred to stay on the Pressley farm because I had a good relationship with them and they were just nice people. One day a very tall man pulled into the driveway of the dealer. I overheard him say his name when he was talking to the salesman and his name was Mr. Gwin. Mr. Gwin took me to his farm in Blackstock. It was nice to be on a farm again. I was used for many years, doing very similar work to what I did on the Pressley farm. I plowed fields and planted crops. There was so much work to do that I hardly had any time to rest. Eventually, I was passed on to Mr. Gwin’s son, Leonard.

I grew older though, and like everything else I needed more rest. Sadly, one day I realized that I was not being used anymore. I sat around in the pasture with grass growing all around me. It was not Mr. Len’s fault. Mr. Len had wanted to restore me, but his vision was getting worse and he simply was not able to. The 6-foot 5-inch farmer drove trucks for years and now he and his wife, Peggy, spent their days taking care of their beef cows, cutting hay, and playing with their little dog.

Sometimes, Mr. Leonard would come out into the pastures in his Gator. He would park right beside me and I could tell he was thinking about something. Then one day I heard a rumbling sound coming towards me. I couldn’t tell what it was but I thought it might be thunder. I was wrong. It was a flatbed tow truck coming my direction. I started to get scared because I thought he might be selling me for scrap metal. But as nice as he was, I was pretty sure he would never do such a thing. The tow truck pulled up beside me and the driver got out of the cab and started talking to Mr. Leonard. On the side of the cab it said “Joe’s Towing.” The truck backed up behind me and the driver attached chains to me. He walked over to the side of the truck and used levers to pull me up onto the bed. I was kind of nervous but everything turned out fine. Once he finished pulling me up, he attached more chains to me so I would not fall off going down the road. He was finally done, and we were on our way to wherever we were going.

We pulled up at a farm that looked very familiar. I later figured it out that I was on the Pressley’s farm! The same two-story white house was there, only now John Neely, Tom Brown’s younger brother, lived there. The same trees lined the driveway, only now they were bigger. The tow truck driver unloaded me and then left. I was sitting there alone until I saw a white truck pulling in to the driveway. I thought to myself, “I wonder who that is?” The truck pulled up and the driver got out of the truck. I recognized him as Mr. Pressley, but it was a different Mr. Pressley. It was Tom Brown, but he looked a lot like Mr. Brent! He wore a white t-shirt with khaki pants, and a cap on his head. He walked over and looked at me for a few minutes and then got to work, fixing me up. He had lots of different types of tools. I noticed that they all had their own purpose. The months that I was on the farm flew by and in no time, fall came. The colder it was, the less Mr. Pressley wanted to be out. Sooner or later I was fixed up with a new engine, new tires, and new coat of paint, but I was not sure what would come next.

Days later I saw a young boy and Mr. Pressley coming my direction. He was a tall, lanky boy with blonde hair, and his name was Henry. He was Mr. Pressley’s grandson. Henry hopped on and Mr. Pressley instructed him in how to crank me up. The boy cranked me up and backed me out of the shed. Every day Henry was out there, he would crank me up and drive me around the pasture and park me when it was time to go. He seemed to love it by the expression on his face. I finally figured out that the reason I was fixed up and being driven so much by Henry is because he would be driving me in the annual Lowrys Christmas Parade, a parade that only allows tractors and horses, no cars or trucks. This parade is a very exciting time and thousands of people come every year to the small town just to see it! Some people even bring campers and camp overnight!

The day of the parade came very soon and I was very excited and a little nervous. The young boy and his family drove up the driveway and got out of the car. Marilyn, Henry’s aunt, decorated me with a wreath and also signs on each side of me, explaining my history. Before the parade started, the boy and I drove down to the gas station because Mr. Tom Brown wanted to be sure I would make it through the whole parade without running out of gas. After that we went down to a field where all the tractors were waiting and parked. The boy and his dad went into the Lowrys Schoolhouse where they were serving food. They had to get a number for me, just in case I won an award. The family left and I waited patiently for the start of the parade.

A few hours later the boy came back and cranked me up. It seemed like forever before the parade started! Surely enough though, the tractors in front of me finally started moving. As we got onto the road, I was astonished to see how many people had come to see the parade. There was candy everywhere and everybody was waving and having a good time. It was the best time I have ever had. I was disappointed to see that we were coming close to the end, but you cannot always have fun in your lifetime – you have to work to live. After the parade was over, Henry went into the building to see if I had won an award for being the best restored tractor. I won Honorable Mention! It was exciting to see that Mr. Tom Brown fixed me up and got an award for doing it! My reward was getting to ride in the parade.

The days after the parade have been pleasant and I am driven around every once in a while. Everything has been good. In fact, the least expected has happened. My sister and cousin were introduced to the family: two more tractors to be restored!