In this photo dating to about 1932, the author poses on one of the manure carriers on his grandfather's farm near Capron, Ill. The gentleman seemingly taking a siesta, but in fact making sure his nephew stays out of trouble, is the author's Uncle Amos. |
Stranded on the Manure Carrier
By A. Clyde Eide
Most of my growing-up summers were spent on my grandfather's farm in northern Illinois. While there were many things on the farm to fascinate a young boy, I was especially intrigued by the manure carriers (more euphemistically called “litter carriers”), not to be confused with manure spreaders.
The farm had three of these appliances: two in the part of the barn reserved for young cattle and “heifers in waiting,” and one for the dairy cattle in the milking section. Each carrier operated on an overhead trolley system, consisting of a long, heavy carrier wire, and two trolley wheels supporting a pivoting hopper. The hopper would invert to dump the load. One end of the carrier wire was anchored inside the barn; the other end was attached to a heavy post about 80 feet outside of the barn.
I often watched in fascination as my Uncle Amos shoveled manure from the floor gutters into the hopper. This was a daily chore in the dairy cattle section. After loading the carrier, he would lean into it like a football lineman pushing a training sled. With a mighty shove, he sent it zooming out the barn door to the end of the line. The wire would literally sing as the carrier made its way to the triplock. The triplock was a projecting piece mounted on the wire. It caught a lever on the carrier and made the hopper dump at a preset spot.
My intrigue with manure carriers eventually put me and my two cousins, Ted and Marilyn, into a precarious situation. One day, we had the farm to ourselves. With the exception of our Uncle Everitt, who was cultivating corn, the adults in the family had gone to town for shopping. They thought we three cousins were responsible enough to look after ourselves for the few hours they would be gone. Bad assumption!
After looking for something to do, we settled on playing with one of the manure carriers. Using a milking stool to stand on, I was able to unhook the carrier wire in the doorway. The carrier responded by rolling into the barn. After getting bored with shoving the carrier back and forth, we decided to give each other rides.
The passenger sat astride the inverted hopper and was shoved out the barn door to the end of the line. Since the terrain dropped off sharply in the cow yard, the carrier wire was about 15 feet off the ground near the end post. This made it more exciting than a carnival ride!
We finally got the idea for all three of us to ride at once. Since I was the oldest, Ted and Marilyn climbed aboard first. I then gave the carrier a shove, and somehow managed to clamber on board.
The three of us rolled out to the triplock, but at a slow speed. One trolley wheel rolled over the triplock, and then we stalled. The triplock was just enough of a detent to keep the carrier from rolling back to the barn. I tried to push us off the triplock by grabbing the wire, but the carrier would not budge.
Finally it dawned on us that we were stranded. Shouting for help proved useless, since no one was around to hear our cries. We thought about jumping off, but we were too intimidated by the seemingly long drop to the ground.