A Mighty Old Man

There was an epidimic of farmer suicides recently in India after Monsantos GMOs ruined the crops of thousands.What do you think this flood will do to Americas independent farmers?

I reckon it was might near a month ago when I told Stella that I forseen a rough growing season.Iv'e been tending these crops for my whole life.This here was my Papa's land, and his Papa's land before him.I hear say it used to be a lake right here where my fields lie.That was before my time. I am a mighty old man.

 I never done anything else but farm this land.Been doing it since I was a boy.

 I told Stella we might oughta tighten our belts round here a tad bit.Waterlogged fields are hard to harvest.I say it will be honky dory, Stella.I know this land,and we have a rich topsoil.My Papa taught me the importance of quality topsoil.Generations of knowing been poured into our farm.I can work with the worst of conditions as long as I have a healthy topsoil.You can't get that overnight.It takes decades to perfect.

 If I had been a working man in a factory I would have retired by now.Maybe I would have a pension.I chose the family farm over industry.I can't say as I regret itBeing a farmer is a hard life,but it's rewarding.At least it used to be.I raised  beautiful youngins on this here farm, with my sweet wife.Our youngest, Lilly, died of meningitis in 1982.Our older Daughter,Coleen, lives in the city.Our only son is in the millitary.That boy grew up on a tractor.Called him Tractor Tucker.I always thought he would be a farmer like his paw.When I die this was to be his land.Still is.I don't think he'll be doing much planting though.My Daddy worked hard to preserve this for me and I planned to do the same for my son.

 See Stella and I knew we was in for a rough season,but we never expected the likes of this.Mildred, the widow of the neighboring farm,dropped by unanounced last evening to fetch me.She talks of a town meeting to discuss the leeves.She says we best attend.I joined the crowd of familiar faces gathered at town hall.Not a stranger in the room excepting that Army Engineer fella doing all the talking.I'd known some of these men since they were in diapers,and now here they were with homes and families of there own.All looking warn with worry.

 I don't watch much tellyvision.I was in the dark about this mishap on the Mississippi.Even after hearing the official explenation I didn't understand hide nor hare of it. It seems My farm ,and the farms of all my friends and neighbors ,will be under water come this time tomorrow because folks up the river needed to save their town.Maybe my daddy knew or maybe he didn't,but we were always meant to loose the farm.All of these established hard working families have always been meant to loose it all.I listened to the cries of mercy in disbelief as that Army fella talked of forced evacuation.Women on their knees begging for another answer,while their husbands fought back the anguish.

Alot of folks spent the night trying to save their farms.They'de be filling sand bags,and building dirt walls around their houses.All in vein!I am a mighty old man.I can not save the farm alone.Why would I try?So I can rebuild.How many years till I have another decent yeild.I've faced floods,droughts,bugs,and tornados,but I have never faced the wrath of man to this level!

 I came home from the town meeting and let all the livestock go.I took down the scarecrows in the fields, so the birds would feel welcome to eat.I led Stella into the barn, sat down beside her, and I hung my head and cried.I had not cried like that since my sweet wife died four years ago.

 They came knocking early this morning to make sure we was all gone.I heard the voices up at the house telling anyone that might be left that it was a mandatory evacuation.I even seen the sun peek through the barn door as someone looked in.I lied there quiet between Stella's hooves.When they was all gone,Stella and I came out here in the corn field to sit in the breeze.The black birds are feasting on seeds.The livestock is romping in the meadow,and the corn is swaying in the wind.The flood gates open any minute now.I keep hoping Stella will gallop away,but she is a loyal animal.

 I Feel the rushing water as it comes barreling down the fields.The watterlogged field dancing like an earthquake.My legacy ends here.It may take all day for the water to drown my sadness,but I can wait.What else am I gonna do?

 This was my papa's land,and his papa before him.I hear say it used to be a lake right here where my fields lie.That was before my time,and I am a mighty old man.

Reviews

[Priyankaabhilaashi]

Truth penned so nicely..!!!!

[Brad]

so real and poignant for these times...very nice job, rev

[Michael X]

incredible and heartbreaking, at the same time, youbring the reader to the moment with character portrayal, and opens the eyes, loved it great job!

[☯]

A very powerful and inspiring story. It's a sad theme and a heartbreaking end. The pride and belief in the character gives me hope and also a bit of guilt inside. I really enjoyed reading this. A very cutting end and a powerful write. Amazing job :)

[Coyote Poetry]

A good story of life that is hard and worthwhile. I have great respect for the people who work the land. I enjoyed the history and the description in the story. A very good ending to a powerful story. Thank you for writing.
Coyote

[Alicia Hirshey]

This makes me sad.