R. D. 1, Kearney, Missouri
You never hear the rattle of the bang board anymore it’s
gone along with stacking hay and and cutting fodder-corn. Instead a
monster full of gears goes growling down the field to separate the
rustling shucks from all the golden ears. There was a time when you
could hear the men at early dawn go through the frost to be the
first to finish shucking corn.