Tractors

When Dad was a boy, he helped his Dad farm with horses. He frequently told us children how much he disliked that. He and Larry must have rejoiced when Grampa bought his first tractor. Tractors are a centerpiece of farming, and they played an important part in our daily lives.

The Little Garden Tractor and the Super Case-o-Matic

There was a tractor known as The Little Garden tractor. It was created by Dad and Larry, perhaps in the 1940s. It was built entirely from scratch out of scraps of iron and unused parts found on the farm.  It had a small 2-stroke engine and an angle iron frame. It looked like a tractor in that the rear tires were larger than the front, and the seat for the driver was a tractor seat. There was no body - no fenders or hood. I remember Dad allowing us to putt-putt about the yard when we were little.

There was also the Super Case-o-Matic. I think that was created in the early 1960s. If I remember right, the front axle and frame rails were from a late 1940s Ford farm truck. The rear half was from a Case tractor of the 1940s or 50s. It included the fenders, seat, brakes and gauges. The engine was a six-cylinder Mercury automobile motor. The hood was a long black piece of sheet metal with a bit of curvature bent into it. The Super Case-o-Matic was fitted with a smallish Du-all loader.  It was something to see!

The Super Case-o-Matic had an interesting steering system. There was a long iron rod that extended along the side of the of the tractor to the front wheels. Turning the steering wheel made the rod go forward or backward, turning the front wheels. With the fast engine and the truck gearing, one could drive the Super Case-o-Matic down the road up to 30 mph. (Most tractors couldn’t hit 20mph on their best days.) One had to be a little nuts to do so. That steering rod flopped back and forth several inches, and one could turn the steering wheel about 1/4 turn with no response. Of course, Terry did drive it down the road that fast. What does that tell you about my little brother?

In later times, the late 1970s-early 80s, we used the Super Case-o-Matic to move big, round bales. The tractor had no power steering, or power anything. The loader, like all loaders, used hydraulic power to raise, lower, and grasp. It was an old loader on an old tractor. Hydraulic fluid continually leaked out by the levers used to operate it. Whoever had the chore/job/burden of running the Super Case-o-Matic wore their absolutely worst clothes, knowing by the end of the day, their jeans would be soaked in hydraulic fluid.

When I ran the Super Case-o-Matic to pick up bales, this was my procedure:

Drive up to the bale, raise the tines on the scoop, lower the scoop to the bale, drive forward a few feet to get the scoop around the bale, lower the tines. Then I had to take the tractor out of gear. The loader wasn’t very powerful, and I had to dig the tines into the bale to hold on to it. To give the hydraulic system enough power to press those tines down, I had to rev the engine up. Hence, the need to be in neutral. After the tines were well-inserted and the scoop lifted off the ground, I put the Super Case-o-Matic in gear and began going forward. I had to be moving to steer the tractor. With no power steering, and the entire weight of that big, round bale on the front end, super-human strength was required to turn the steering wheel. Once it got moving, I could then drive to the place where I wanted to leave the bale. But even when moving, the Super Case-o-Matic was never easy to steer.

In contrast, one day I was picking up bales with the Super Case-o-Matic while Mom was using the 730 with a loader. While I slowly went through the required routine to pick up one bale, Mom could get two or more. She simply drove up to the bale and, without stopping, raised the tines, lowered the scoop, pushed the tines into the bale, lifted it back up, and took it away in her nice, clean clothes. She did all that while still moving forward. I remember her smirking at me while she rolled along snagging up bales. It really was funny.

John Deeres

I remember lots of John Deeres. We had an H and an A, built somewhere between 1943-52. They were pretty small tractors that we used mostly for haying or pulling smaller wagons. They had to be started by spinning the fly wheel. The fly wheel was on the side of the tractor, connected to the crank shaft that turned the engine over, much like what a starter does when you turn the key on your car. In modern cars, the fly wheel resides between the engine and the transmission, and is less that one foot in diameter. Dad served as the starter for those two tractors.

 John Deere H, fly wheel in the lower right corner.

The fly wheel was about three feet in diameter, and very difficult to turn because one had to overcome the inertia of the engine, and turn the pistons in their cylinders. It was hard, and the fly wheel was prone to kick back - hard. Dad always warned us children to be very careful, because the fly wheel could easily dislocate an arm, or cause other damage to its human starter.

The idea of spinning the flywheel was a challenge, almost an obsession for us children. It was there, it was dangerous, it was risky. Who would be brave enough to take the chance first?! Dad told Jim, Kay and I that we were too little. But were we really? I remember giving the flywheel little pulls, and feeling how strongly it resisted and desired to snap back. I don’t remember if I ever did start either of those tractors.

I can see those little tractors sitting behind the shop, up next to a tree. It was fun to play on because it wasn’t so overwhelmingly big. On quiet summer afternoons it was hot, but not too hot to play Farmer. We’d sit on the metal seat, shaped to fit one’s butt, bounce up and down, and turn the steering wheel back and forth, all the while making the popping sound of every John Deere two cylinder engine. Our dog, Tag, laid panting in the shade, paying little attention to the “driver."  We gave orders to the invisible help working on the ground while we arrogantly commanded the high perch. We plowed, mowed, scooped, planted. Everything.

Anyone who grew up on a farm in the 1950s and 60s knows that John Deere sound in a flash. Even if they didn’t have John Deere’s on their own farm, their neighbors certainly did. It was such a distinctive pop-pop-pop-pop-pop. There was nothing like it.

We had bigger tractors that performed the majority of the field work were a G, a 720 and a 730. They were all three “Popping Johnnies”, as the two cylinder tractors were nicknamed. I never used the G. The 720 and 730 were about twice the size of the A and H.

Dad was very proud of the 720 when he bought it used in the early 1960s. It was a diesel, maybe the first one he bought. 720s were built in a three year window, 1956-58. Diesel engines were more powerful than gas, and diesel fuel was only about half the cost of gasoline in those days.

720 Diesel, ours had a wide front end

One of the interesting quirks of the 720 was how it started. Diesel engines were still fairly primitive when it came to starting. This tractor had a very small gasoline motor located in the hood and attached to the diesel engine. When one wished to use the 720, the little gas engine had to be started first. It was given some time to run, then with the use of two long levers, the operator engaged the gas motor to the diesel engine. The little gas motor functioned as a starter to get the big diesel turning over. I believe that starting difficulty was in large part due to the crude nature of diesel fuel. It tended to thicken upon standing, I think.

We kept the 720 for many years, and, as time went on, it was relegated to less intensive tasks. Farm implements like plows and disks and harrows had gotten significantly larger, and the 720 could not pull them, so it was replaced by bigger, newer tractors. I think the 720 hung so long because Dad was really fond of it.

In the early 1980s, brother Terry and I used it to move big, round bales. The 720 had a bale fork on the 3-point hitch. A 3-point hitch was hydraulically activated so that it could go up and down. The bale fork consisted of two heavy long steel teeth, about three feet apart and four feet long, extending back from the tractor and parallel to the ground. We backed the tractor up to the end of a bale lying on its side in the field, dropped the bale fork to the ground in front of the bale, and, by backing up still further, slid the fork under the bale. The fork was lifted, the bale was off the ground, and the operator carried it to the place it needed to be.

Terry used it sometimes, I used it other times. I have to say Terry won the “You know your bale is too heavy when . . .” contest. The bales were heavy, the tractor was light for the job. After lifting the bale, the operator put the tractor in gear and took off . . . sometimes with the front end of the tractor in the air! If the tractor was in a higher gear, it went faster, and thus up in the air more. We were doing wheelies with a 720 John Deere tractor! It became a challenge of how high the front end could be, and still keep the bale off the ground and bring it the quarter mile up to the cattle feed lot. Each large rear wheel could be braked individually, which is how steering was possible without the front wheels on the ground.

Mom and I made a series of jokes about it. You know your bale is too heavy when . . .
You look straight ahead and all you can see is the sky.
You turn the steering wheel and nothing happens.
You have to look behind yourself to see the ground.

There were more, but you get the idea. Just as now, whatever work one does, finding some humor in a difficult job helps the work get done well.

The 730 looked very much like the 720, but it ran on gasoline and was not as powerful as the 720. Sometime after the 700 series we got an R. We didn’t have it long. I don’t think Dad really thought it fit our needs very well.

Terry driving the John Deere 3020 with 3 drills, planting malting barley.

There were two New Generation John Deeres. They were called that because they were the first John Deere general farm tractors that did not have 2-cylinder engines, they had six. We had the 4020 and the 3020, built from 1963-72. Dad was especially proud of the 4020. It was a diesel, and required no special starting procedure. It was used as the loader tractor for years.

WD Alllis Chalmers

Along the way in the 1950s and 60s, there were a couple of non-John Deere tractors on the farm. One was a WD Allis Chalmers. It served as the loader tractor for many years, moving the small rectangular bales, scooping snow, cleaning out barn lots. Late in the 20th century, Dad and Tammy used a very similar tractor to win many tractor pulling competitions.

I think the last tractor Dad purchased was a big white Case tractor. It was the first well-cabbed and air conditioned tractor Dad ever owned. Dad had it and the 4020 until the farm sale in 1987.

Dad driving the Case 2290, with John Deere 660 combine. 1982

I think Dad really loved his tractors. As with his cars, Dad always purchased tractors used, letting someone else take the early and big depreciation mark downs. It may be likely that Dad’s tractors and cars helped him assert his independence from his father, who could be critical and dominating. It can be difficult to find one’s place while working next to one’s father, after years in his shadow.