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.

Leonard brought the truck, and we loaded sacks on it. Then the boss hauled them to town. That was even dustier work than loading hay bales, and we really needed the river at the end of every day.

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.

Hay dust stirred into hot summer sunshine as we threw bales of hay and slammed them into place. Dust settled on us. We finished work for the day, drove down to the river, and swam until day began to fade from the valley.

Some topics in this essay:
Ted Leonard, Leonard Ted, Ted Leonard's, Willamette Valley, , Valley Oregon, ted leonard, willamette valley, hay bales, loaded hauled, onto truck, bales stacked, hot summer,