Chapter I: His Pride and Joy

Forty little  “white face”  calves!  That is what was on that big semi truck that just pulled up beside our house in York Center.  What a delightful surprise for this little girl, me. I ran out through the yard to see them up close.  They were so cute, just adorable, even though they were all bawling their heads off.  They were probably hungry, about four months old and had just been weaned from their mother’s milk.  Plus they had just been trucked all the way from Texas.

With these forty little heifers my dad built  his herd of herford brood cows by raising all the new born heifer calves.  My dad’s newly purchased  Fox farm was the perfect home for them.  It wasn’t long until any business men who came to the stone quarry soon found themselves in my dad’s car driving around through the fields where they roamed.  They weren’t afraid of people as long as they stayed in the car so he could slowly drive very close among them.

The steers were sold each year for “prime beef” .  For them to bring top “prime beef” price they had to be sold at a certain body weight.

Only thing he was getting so much enjoyment taking people there and showing them off he was reluctant to let them go.  So……when he finally agreed to send them to market they were past “prime” and brought less money.

This really bothered my brothers!  But not my dad!  He had them partly for his pleasure.  And…..he was the Boss!

Chapter  II: An Act of Kindness

He was a large man.  Tall and almost heavy set.  He was wearing a dark suit.  Actually…he looked quite distinguished.  My father invited him to come into the house.  After he sat down this is what he came for.

“A family I know, who are very poor, are being put out of the house they are living in and these good people have no place to go.”  He hesitated only a moment and added, “I see you have this vacant house down on your Fox farm.  Would you consider allowing these poor people with no place to go to move into your vacant house?”

My father, always ready to help good people in need, agreed to allow them to move into the house.  The Fox farm was about four or five miles south of where I lived beside the York Center stone quarry and about twelve miles from where my parents lived on a farm.

The quarry workers also took care of all the farm work.  Sometime in the cold of winter my brother, along with some of the men, was down there taking care of the herford cattle when he noticed boards missing from the side of the house.  On inquiry he found out these poor good people were taking boards off of the house and burning them in a stove to keep warm.

At this same time he discovered that the house those poor good people had been put out of had been owned by that distinguished looking gentleman. Whoa!  What was that loud noise I just heard? Was that someone’s brain exploding?  Have you ever heard the phrase “No good deed ever goes unpunished”?  What a revolting development!

More surprising, can you believe this little story I just related to you became a big family joke and when told often brought forth great laughter?

That very distinguished looking gentleman had outsmarted our dad! And…that is something that didn’t happen all that often.

My three daughters visiting Gramma and Grampa at the Fox farm house where they lived a few months while their York Center house was being remodeled.  I didn’t become my dad’s daughter until I was sixteen, but he called them his “Three Little Girls”.

FRF ♥