There are many items around the farm that are very useful but not necessarily obvious to the outsider. Amongst those very useful things are baling wire, hickory lathes and electric fences. Beyond their utility these items can be the source of pain and sometimes provide humor.
Baling wire was used extensively in the 40’s, 50’s, and into the 60’s as a means of securing bales of hay. The light gauge wire was easily twisted by balers and held the compressed hay securely. Eventually, engineers figured out how to tie twine and wire became obsolete. If you’ll forgive the pun, baling wire had its heyday. The wire could be found just about anywhere on a farm and used for many purposes from holding a gate closed to providing a frame for pole bean vines.
Hickory lathes were also plentiful and used for a multitude of purposes. The lathes were made out of hickory, which is a tough springy hardwood, and were typically about 2” wide, 5/8” thick and about 5’ long. They were generally pointed at one end and were used primarily to spear and hang burley tobacco in the barns for curing. Their pointed ends were great for driving into the ground and, with the baling wire, provided good support for pole beans. Their size and springiness made excellent bows to shoot willow arrows in a game of cowboys and Indians.
Electric fences are very easily constructed and effective in keeping farm animals away from areas that you want protected. The electrified fences produce a shock not much more intense than what you’d get touching a water faucet after scuffling your feet across a dry nylon carpet in the winter – the only difference is that it is continuous instead of a single spark. It can provide discomfort for a victim and amusement for a spectator, as was the case when our family dog decided to mark his territory by taking aim at the newly installed electric fence. Poor Ole Blue yelped loud enough to be heard in the next county and I thought he was going to walk on three legs forever.
The electric fence was always good for a laugh when the cousins came out from town. It was always easy to get them to drink a quart or so of lemonade. When they’d ask where the bathroom was you’d politely explain that in the country men go behind the barn and ladies use the plumbing. It never took much of a wager to see who could disperse the used lemonade the furthest towards the garden fence. I never won those matches but I later appreciated the fact that uric ions are just about as good of a conductor of electricity as you can get – particularly behind the barn.
The summer I turned 9 my father was stringing electric fence down the middle of a field. He wanted the cattle to graze in part of the field and not disturb the oats starting to sprout in the bottom area. The fencing was intended to be temporary until we gathered the oats at the end of the summer and the two halves would be rejoined. Daddy was driving hickory lathes into the ground, attaching insulators at 12” and 30” above the ground, and then fastening the electric wire to the insulators. He had been able to attach the bottom wire, went ahead and electrified it, and let the cattle back in to graze. He had strung but not connected most of the upper wire.
I had a vantage point to watch my dad from about 200 yards from where he was working. My work had been finished after getting the hickory lathes pounded into the ground. Daddy didn’t want me helping because I might get shocked – I guess he thought the work too dangerous for me. I found one of those ubiquitous pieces of baling wire and securely fastened it to the top, un-electrified, wire. Gravity took its course and the baling wire snuggled against the bottom wire. In so doing my father started dancing – something akin to a jig, but occasionally lifting both feet off of the ground -- at the same time! He must have bounced around for over a minute trying to hold on to the spool of wire to keep it from unwinding. He finally dropped the spool and began looking around to see what had caused his misfortune. I thought Ole Blue was funny but I tell you this was hilarious. It was so funny that I shook the bush where I was hiding and he spotted me.
There is another use for hickory lathes. When they come in contact with one’s backside, the recipient is apt to make more noise than Ole Blue did when he anointed the fence. Knowing the ferocity with which my dad could swing the lathe, I thought it best to stay out of his reach for a while. I missed dinner and supper that day. The mosquitoes had had their feast at my expense and I began to weigh the possibilities of more bugs and things unknown attacking me in the night. I concluded that it would be the lesser consequence to go to the house – at least there there’d be no hickory lathes.
I snuck in the sun porch, through the kitchen and peeped into the living room. My dad was sitting on the couch, hunched over, playing solitaire on the floor. He turned his head toward me and, instead of jumping up and going for my throat as I expected, he just grinned.
I miss my dad.
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