Several hundred visitors came to the Tennessee Tech Hyder-Burks Agriculture Pavilion on Gainesboro Grade, in Cookeville which was in conjunction with the 27th Annual Middle TN Antique Engine and Tractor Show featuring pick-ups, big rigs, tractors and engines.

And now, here is a small poem about an old Allis Chalmers tractor written by noted author,  A. Trak Torr.

I Tractor

Made by Allis Chalmers; I am a model C
I rolled off my assembly line, in spring of 43
My color, Persian orange; exhaust pipe shining bright
Displayed out in  the sales yard, I waited day and night.

Times were kind of rough as the war raged overseas
The summer passed, hot days, cool nights, soon leaves fell from the trees
One morn in late October, the frost clung to the ground
A farmer said, “I’ll take her.” His name was Oscar Brown.

Brown’s  family owned a farm, a hundred acre plot,
They lived off what they raised, and wild game, they shot.
Grazing was on fifty, their garden was on three,
The other forty-seven, was what was left to me.

Brown kept me at the barn, ‘neath a roof along the side,
When I wasn’t working, that shade’s where I’d abide.
I toiled through those days, through spring, summer and fall
I’d till and work the soil, gave that old farmer my all.

The fall of ’59, old Oscar Brown, he died
His wife had passed the year before; he went to see his bride.
The kids had moved away, and auctioned off the place
Some speculators bought it, to subdivide the space.

I was getting kind of old, a rust spot here and there
My Persian orange dingy now, my tire treads near bare.
They towed me to a barren field, I settled in the dirt
I sat there waiting patiently, ready, still, to work.

But days turned into months, and the months turned into years,
Neglect and rust were eating me, my life turned sad and drear.
Sometimes I would dream at night, of Farmer Brown and me
We’d plow and disc beneath blue sky, a showcase farm to see

How Farmer Brown would brag on me, and work me all day long
At dusk he’d prep me for next day, then hop on me at dawn
But now vines grew all over me, my tires rotted, flat
And I resolved my time was done, I’d given all I had.

And sun and rain and snow and leaves, and brambles in my bones
My paint flecked off, my joints froze up--Nothing but alone.

But….

      …. what is this??  

… the weeds pulled off, what is going on?
Sunshine touched my faded paint, though most my paint was gone.

Surprised, I felt a gentle hand caress my junked out hulk
Ashamed was I, I would be sold as rusted steel bulk.
But a kind voice said, “Hey little guy, this is your lucky day!
My daddy had one just like you; I’ll take you home to play.”

But I felt my tires, all rotted through; my cylinders were frozen.
A mistake was made; I’m all tore up; why would I be chosen?

Two big chains, hung on a crane, attached to me with care
and hoisted to a flat bed truck…
                                                        … I rode away from there.

My new owner was Farmer Max, he had some giant tractors
Brilliant green, stood huge machines, with me, a two-bit actor.
Then Farmer Max took me apart, my engine ….. puulllllled …..to pieces
He sanded, painted, oiled, and shimmed, with lots and lots of greases.

‘Bout 6 months or so went by, and Farmer Max stood back,
And smiling proud, he said to me, “My friend, you’re back on track.”

I didn’t know….
                          …..  he had his friends, all in the barnyard standing,
My rebuilt self, he drove on out, onto the earthen landing

His friends all cheered when I drove out--that’s something unexpected;
My shiny coat of Persian Orange, bright the sun reflected.

My  little cap on my exhaust, it bobbled up and down
My motor snarled, growled, and purred—pure music is  that sound.

……The friends had gone…
                                           … the sky near dark, as last sun rays were glowing

And Max turned ‘round and winked at me….
                                                                           .....  “Tomorrow we’ll start mowing….”