Was out of high school for the summer and looking for ways to make money in the Willamette Valley of Oregon. My friends Ted and Leonard lived on a farm and knew farmers around them. They found jobs with a neighboring farmer, who needed more help. Ted and Leonard passed the word to me, and I started working with them.
We loaded newly baled hay from the fields onto a truck, hauled it to the stack yard, and stacked the bales. Leonard and Ted took turns driving the truck slowly through the field while one of us hoisted the 70- to 100-pound bales from the dry stubble of the field. The other guy, riding in the swaying bed of the truck, received the bales and stacked them on the truck.
I never did get to drive, the easiest job, because I had no seniority on our crew. But I didn't object. I was so pleased to be earning money, I was willing to do anything. And I knew that throwing the heavy bales up onto the truck was good training for next year's high school wrestling, when I planned to be on the varsity team and pin every opposing wrestler who had worked an easy summer job.
Two crews loaded, hauled, and stacked hay on that farm that summer. Three men who had been out of high school for years worked together. Ted and Leonard and I loaded and hauled faster than they did. We built our stacks of hay bales as carefully and tightly as they did, but faster.
I think they were pleased that we raced them and always won. Our high-speed work meant they could take it a little easier, and, at the end of the day, the total number of bales stacked would still satisfy the farmer who hired and paid us.
Our truck broke down, and the farmer had to rent a truck while the one we had been using was in the shop. The only truck he could find to rent had a much higher bed, so we had to throw the bales up higher than our heads. We took it as a welcome challenge and still loaded faster than the other crew.
Hay dust stirred into hot summer sunshine as we threw bales of hay and slammed them into place.
