Our Heritage

When we attended Lena's funeral, I wanted to stop off by "the farm" as there is an exit not far from the Atkinville wash. I had seen this tractor alongside the old road to the farm and recognized it. When we moved to Littlefield we left this old Farmall 12 behind. Someone had tried to take it and managed to get it as far as the old Price bench and had abandoned it there. I had seen it there when the road was still dirt and thought, "I really ought to go get that old tractor". Imagine my surprise when it was still there and has been used as a landscape piece by the church that apparently owns this parking lot. Dad brought this tractor from Mesa. I only remember using it a couple of times. Dad said it was too much of a gas hog.
This tractor reminded me of a tractor story that Dad told.
In the days before hydraulics were used to raise and lower implements they were fitted with a cam and lobe affair that was attached to the axle. A rope was pulled from the tractor seat that would dog in the lobe and turn the cam to raise the plow (or whatever implement was being used). Dad was plowing and had attached the rope to his waist so it would be in easy reach. He had probably done the same thing lots of times before. However, this day the pin that held the plow to the drawbar bounced out. With the plow in the ground it stopped immediately jerking him out of the tractor seat and onto the ground seriously injuring his back. The tractor continued on down the field for a short distance when it started to turn around. It came back toward him and he was afraid it was going to run over him. He managed to stand up, move to the side and reach over the tire as the tractor went past and knock it out of gear. I don't remember exactly how he got from the field to the hospital but for the rest of his life he had a large discolored area in the small of his back 10 to 12 inches wide and about 4 inches high that looked like an old bruise.