CGDustDevil
Buckeye
48 years ago on this day, I was thrashing with hay bales in the beautiful fields of a small dairy farm in Maine, earning .50 cents an hour if I recall correctly. (Just one of many part time summer jobs I'd do in those days)
Meanwhile, 238,900 miles away in space, history was about to be made with the flying remnants of the Apollo 11 mission orbiting earth's moon. It was later in the day, around 3:30 or 4:00 p.m. when Clifford Smith stopped his tractor and baler, and walked over to the truck that we were loading the bales of hay on to. Hot, sweaty and tired, we wondered what was going on.
"Git in the back boys..." Clifford said, as he climed in the driver seat and pushed his full time hand aside. We were taken back to the house where Clifford parked the truck and said "They're about to land on the moon. Every American should be able to see this, so we're gonna go have some strawberries & cream and see what happens...".
We'd seldom (maybe never in fact) been invited into the house... We did most of our 'business' on the porch. The kitchen was cool and darkened. A large table was set up with chairs for each of us, and a small 9" black & white television sat on the long old-fashioned kitchen counter. Next to the TV was a pile of bowls, a pitcher of fresh cool cream and a collendar of beautiful looking strawberries.
"Have a seat boys" Clifford said, pointing to the chairs on the east side of the table that would give us the best view of the little TV. Clifford sat on the north end, and his wife's place was at the south end. Everyone had a clear view, but we had center stage. It ever even occurred to me until years later how significant that was.
We were given large bowls full of ripe, lush strawberries with fresh sweet cream poured over them, and a large bowl of sugar was placed in the center of the table. A brief but sincere prayer was spoken by Clifford, giving thanks for the bounty in front of us, for our good haying weather, but especially for the lives of the 3 brave men making history so far away. Then we were instructed to 'have at it'.
The TV news played the drama as we sat there mesmerized by the goings on. 3 brave men were 239,000 miles from home, doing something that had NEVER been done. They were riding in space vehicles that you could drive a knife through the side of. Risking everything in trust of this magnificent contraption that had been designed to do what it was they were doing. Would it work? What if it didn't? What would the guy left in the command module do if something went wrong? These were the questions that we asked ourselves out loud in between the news bits.
Finally the thing managed to find footing on the moon, and we all just sat there speechless. What a huge thing!
Clifford finally broke the silence and said, "Well boys... Hate to say it but we've still got the rest of that field to bring in. Rain's comin' in a few days, and I can't have my hay gettin' wet."
We thanked Mrs. Smith as we filed out the door back into the hot late afternoon sunshine. As we went back to work buckin' bales onto the back of that old flatbed truck, we agreed among the three of us that we'd not take pay for the hour or so that we sat in Clifford Smith's kitchen. When we squared up at the end of the day, Clifford was humbled by our gesture... Not an event that happened more than once that I ever saw! ;) He was a good man. He paid us daily, worked us hard, but he always thanked us at the end of the day for the work we'd done as he was counting out the dollars and coins. On that day, we had a chance to thank Clifford for allowing us to share his home and some 1st hand history!
What a memory... Weren't we blessed!?
Regards, Pete
Meanwhile, 238,900 miles away in space, history was about to be made with the flying remnants of the Apollo 11 mission orbiting earth's moon. It was later in the day, around 3:30 or 4:00 p.m. when Clifford Smith stopped his tractor and baler, and walked over to the truck that we were loading the bales of hay on to. Hot, sweaty and tired, we wondered what was going on.
"Git in the back boys..." Clifford said, as he climed in the driver seat and pushed his full time hand aside. We were taken back to the house where Clifford parked the truck and said "They're about to land on the moon. Every American should be able to see this, so we're gonna go have some strawberries & cream and see what happens...".
We'd seldom (maybe never in fact) been invited into the house... We did most of our 'business' on the porch. The kitchen was cool and darkened. A large table was set up with chairs for each of us, and a small 9" black & white television sat on the long old-fashioned kitchen counter. Next to the TV was a pile of bowls, a pitcher of fresh cool cream and a collendar of beautiful looking strawberries.
"Have a seat boys" Clifford said, pointing to the chairs on the east side of the table that would give us the best view of the little TV. Clifford sat on the north end, and his wife's place was at the south end. Everyone had a clear view, but we had center stage. It ever even occurred to me until years later how significant that was.
We were given large bowls full of ripe, lush strawberries with fresh sweet cream poured over them, and a large bowl of sugar was placed in the center of the table. A brief but sincere prayer was spoken by Clifford, giving thanks for the bounty in front of us, for our good haying weather, but especially for the lives of the 3 brave men making history so far away. Then we were instructed to 'have at it'.
The TV news played the drama as we sat there mesmerized by the goings on. 3 brave men were 239,000 miles from home, doing something that had NEVER been done. They were riding in space vehicles that you could drive a knife through the side of. Risking everything in trust of this magnificent contraption that had been designed to do what it was they were doing. Would it work? What if it didn't? What would the guy left in the command module do if something went wrong? These were the questions that we asked ourselves out loud in between the news bits.
Finally the thing managed to find footing on the moon, and we all just sat there speechless. What a huge thing!
Clifford finally broke the silence and said, "Well boys... Hate to say it but we've still got the rest of that field to bring in. Rain's comin' in a few days, and I can't have my hay gettin' wet."
We thanked Mrs. Smith as we filed out the door back into the hot late afternoon sunshine. As we went back to work buckin' bales onto the back of that old flatbed truck, we agreed among the three of us that we'd not take pay for the hour or so that we sat in Clifford Smith's kitchen. When we squared up at the end of the day, Clifford was humbled by our gesture... Not an event that happened more than once that I ever saw! ;) He was a good man. He paid us daily, worked us hard, but he always thanked us at the end of the day for the work we'd done as he was counting out the dollars and coins. On that day, we had a chance to thank Clifford for allowing us to share his home and some 1st hand history!
What a memory... Weren't we blessed!?
Regards, Pete
