The Old Silo

 My grandfather had built the wooden silo in the 1930s during the middle of the Depression.  All of the materials had arrived from the factory by train, and he had to take several trips with the wagon and team to bring everything back to the farm from the railroad depot.  I had heard stories about how Grandpa had mixed all the concrete for the foundation by hand in a wheelbarrow.

     In 1960, the wooden silo still stood next to the barn, and a newer 25 foot tall concrete stave silo had joined it.  Both of them were filled with corn silage every fall that was fed along with hay from the haymow throughout the winter, and until the cows returned to pasture in spring.

     The concrete silo had a Patz electric silo unloader that worked with the push of a button, but as the youngest son, it was usually my job to climb up the wooden silo and throw down corn silage to where my brother Henry would load it into a wheelbarrow, and bring it out to the cows in the stanchions.  I always loved the early spring where I didn't have to worry about frozen silage along the silo walls.

     Although the wooden silo has been gone for many years now, and I don't miss my work with the ensilage fork, I still have fond memories of that wooden silo.

Winter Problems

In the year of my 17th birthday in the early 60s, the winter started off pretty mild.  It was a green Christmas that year.  That all changed shortly after the new year when a cold front moved in.  One Monday morning when dad and I entered the barn to start morning chores, we were dismayed to discover that a jersey heifer had gotten loose and had somehow opened the door to the silo room, allowing a cold draught to come in and freeze the two closest cast iron drinking cups, causing them to crack.  We watered the affected cows with buckets and finished milking.  

As soon Jerry's Farm Service opened up at 8:30, dad sent me the ten miles into town in the farm truck to get replacement drinking cups.  Thankfully Jerry had just what we needed and we had everything fixed by lunch time.  That day was another good reminder that sometimes you never knew what what to expect on a winter day on a family dairy farm in the 1950s.