By
Greg Brown
Associate Editor
I was there
when it happened.
Not when my brother actually lost part of his finger to a combine
chain, but when his girlfriend realized that he was missing a portion
of his ring finger.
We were sitting in his trailer watching the Monkees. Bobbi was holding
hands with Tim, and she yelled, “What is that?”
It was hilarious! Despite the fact that they had been going steady
for more than a year, she hadn’t realized that Tim lacked part
of his ring finger. My sister and I laughed out loud.
But, Bobbi shivered visibly when Tim recounted how he lost part of
the digit. It was the first time I heard the story about my brother’s
childhood farm accident. But I had always known it was gone.
Today, that finger, that is missing a nail plus some, wears a wedding
band. Bobbi and Tim have four great kids. His farm life helped make
my brother a good provider and father. But I can’t help but
wonder what life would have been like if my brother had not have been
so lucky.
Yes, lucky.
Like so many farm kids, I can recount tales of neighborhood farm accidents.
There were many near and not-so-near misses. The victims were both
kids and adults. But I still don’t advise anyone not to let
kids help out.
These facts of life didn’t weigh down the fun of being a farm
kid. And they still don’t today. As a youngster, I couldn’t
understand the danger of life on the farm. I could just see my older
siblings helping out and was jealous. Perhaps you can remember begging
to drive the tractor only to be told no for what seemed like forever.
But the toll of farm accidents is visible in our farm communities.
Two of my dad’s best friends are missing their thumbs. One kept
his in a jar for years. Dad tried to join that club one winter while
cutting firewood. Unfortunately for him, thanks to the miracle of
modern medicine, it was reattached. He underwent years of therapy
and weather-related pain.
Another sister-in-law, Teena, had quite a scare when her dad lost
his arm in an old corn-picker. It’s hard to imagine what my
nieces Alysia, Kayla and Chantel would be like without their grandpa
spoiling them and taking them camping to this day.
The girl’s other grandpa was not so lucky. Sixteen years ago
this past May, my father was killed while using a skid-loader to feed
our beef cattle. We suppose it was part farm accident, part heart
attack. But no matter the cause, his death left an indelible mark
on the family.
Similar tragedies, no doubt, have touched you and your extended farm
family in some way.
I tell you these things because it is a busy time right now. It may
seem that there is little time, but please take the time to consider
what you are doing. Are you too tired? Would napping an hour in the
tractor or truck cab save you or your family a lifetime of regret?
Just be careful out there.
If you don’t do anything else, do this: Take the thumb in the
jar down off the wall. Show your children the scar where the hay baler
broke your leg. And tell you kids why grandpa limps. Then, remind
your daughter, your grandson and yourself that, yes, the farm life
is the best life but we must appreciate the danger.
