. It was a preharvest extravaganza more than an open house, members of the local farming community and others from a distance attaining a presence, many ferried in thru the avionics of Steve Miller’s Cessna 172. The quantum staff of Kiowa Service petitioned to participate, each employee assigned as a spokesman in some capacity. A capacious amount of comestibles, roast beef, ham, a diversity of condiments, soft drink refreshments, iced beer acquainting voluminous tubs, and a more potent variety of bottled oblation established in the employee’s appurtenant, better known as the break room. The structured shop buildings petitioned to provide stations of presentation for a multiple of John Deere productions, including the complete line of 40 series tractors, the 7720 and colossal 8820 combines, with its 30 foot wheat harvesting header. Displays of plows, chisels, drills, the 346 baler and the new 8300 drill, a shop employee commissioned at each station with literature in hand, answering the inquisitive questions. It was John Deere Day at The Kiowa Service Company.
. The distant rumbling of mother nature was perceived within the two metal fabricated buildings, but with little fanfare or acknowledgement, the farming guest in attendance absorbed in the celebration of the gala event. The intonation of the gathering storms rain could be heard striking the metal canopied roof, at first a gentle patter of sound, then an increasing intensiveness, the resonance of thunder beginning to echo an increasing presence. Still the ambiguous group displayed an unconcern, then a change in plangency, a pinging sound, then another, the sound of hail striking the metal covering aloft, lightly at first, then growing in magnitude, a noticeable vocal silence from the assembly as the volume of sound increased, a concern starting to evolve. Gary standing among the guest, perceiving a comment, “these hailstorms are of short duration and will soon pass.”
. The intensity increased, the reverberating sound within the metal structure reaching a fervent pitch, then exclaimed a fury, the vigor of the sound asphyxiating normal conversation. Gary struck with the magnitude of sound, his curiosity abounding, approached the outside door and with its opening, discovering the pelting hail blanketing the ground, up to two inches in depth. Then an eerie calming silence except for the rumble of the thunder as the waning storm continued its journey, another destination awaiting its destructive ambiance. The faces of those in attendance, a silent reflection of consternation, an aura of uncertainty as the encroachment of wheat harvest was soon to commence, but now a wonderment. The once festive occasion, digressing to one of concern, finding an exiting of the local participants, their flight to assess the storms adversity to their crops.
. Jan’s parents, her Aunt Esther and Uncle Charles Terry having left Kiowa to meet with her Aunt Leona and Uncle Melvin Weyeneth from Illinois. The three couple to traversing to New York State to visit Lewis County and the first Apostolic Christian Church, founded by the Benedict Weyeneth in 1847. Included in this visit would be the opportunity to partake of a scenic journey to address the water expressway, The famous Erie Canal. The day following the storm, Gary having heard reports of many losing their wheat to the onslaught of the hail, thought it best to drive out and assess father-in-law Buds quarter section of land. A concerned Gary and Jan with the children in tow driving the Stateline road approaching the Murrow’s farm, Bud having seeded a 120 acres in wheat in the old home place location.
. On their way, the family observing neighboring farms and the havoc inflicted on the already budding out wheat, giving testament to its devastation. Continuing on, a hope for supplication, but the view not promising. Stopping at the home place acreage, embarking from the car, finding a field of despair. Venturing into the maze of broken wheat stalks, the ground laden with the remains of a prosperous crop, a notice of scrutiny confirming the worst. Gary ascertaining the path of the storm had discharged its raiment paralleling the Stateline, affecting an area five-miles on either side of the boundary. The Murrow family wasn’t alone with the storms adversity as mother nature plays no favorites. Later in the week Jan’s folks called to give notice they were on their way home, Jan informing them of the storm. Once home, Bud like many others wrote off his crop as a total loss, but with his crop insurance, it allowed some redemption, providing a start for next year’s harvest.
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