A few days ago, I told the touching tale of my 1939 A. Today, I offer a comedy, and after 19 years, my mom still isnt laughing! My dads 1944 A,swamp thing involed my first two experiences with fencelined tractors and my first two cylinder tear down. Talk about hopping into the fire!! The last tractor left from the farm is our old Ford. When I got home from the service, dad still used it for firewood and their garden and I wanted to avoid borrowing it. I got my B in 1993 for 300 bucks and had it running a month later. It wasnt long before I would come home from work to find my B gone and the Ford parked in its usual spot. My dad had rediscoved his green bones! A couple of years later, a local sawmill owner told us he had an old Deere behind his mill.He said he had an issue with it stalling hot, rebuilt the engine and it still did it, so he parked it. He was good friends with dad and told him to just wonder back there if he was interested, said he parked it 8 years prior- I think Don lost a decade somewhere! When I first seen it , it was mired flywheel deep in a cedar swamp- not the best enviornment for iron! The muffler had rotted off, carb was broken, but it was a complete machine. Don and dad agreed to 250 dollars. I tried to move it with my B and almost mired that too, Don said he would get it out with the skidder and call us when it was in the mill yard. When the call came, he informed us that the right brake was locked. So, after work one afternoon, dad and I went over there in my old creeper gear truck with some tools, chain, the front tire from the Ford, and mom following in their Dakota. We removed the brake, towed it onto a board and put the Ford rim on one side dish in. From there, i put my truck in creeper, dad got on the A, and mom followed with the four ways on for the longest four mile drive in my life! When we got home, mom walked over to dad and asked are you really going to try to fix that POS??when I drained the crankcase I got 3 gallons of water,NOT a good sign. The engine was stuck, so I started pulling it apart. The main bearing inserts were broken, from frost I guess, the valves were sticking but not stuck, the pistons were badly frozen and the bore looked horrible! I used a hydraulic press to get the pistons out. The first machine shop I took it to told me the block was junk, the second one said he wouldve agreed if it was a car engine, but thought he could get it decent at 45 over- a few pits wouldnt hurt that bad. He was right, after 17 years its still fine. The engine back together, tires on, went to fill the radiator and had the prettiest sprinkler you ever saw! Back off and a new core! We found a carb locally for 45 bucks, its neat to see differences in siblings, My Uncle Wayne was visiting mom when we got the carb, mom said45 bucks for that? Uncle Wayne said how did u find one that cheap?. There was a rust hole in the hood dad wanted patched, when we took it apart the tank looked like a 22 target after use. Six calls later i had a replacement tank. I found another A about then, worse than dads, but parts at least. My truck went down so I asked my brother in law for help. After an entire afternoon of comealonging on a hot, muggy August day and a 40 mile white knuckle drive with an off balance tractor on the trailer in tow, Joe said to let him know if I needed one moved again- so he could plan something else!! Two years after we hauled it from the mill, we had it going and immediately found out why Don parked it, bad coil in the mag. Mom tallied up what dad spent, figured out what I added, and was ready to call a shrink for both of us!! My sister was pregnant for my oldest nephew when we first got it running. From the time Anthony could crawl, he would race to the patio window if he heard it. If he got cranky, dad would start the A, Beth would hand him off to dad, and the kid would be out in ten minutes. When he was four, he knew how to start it, just didnt have enough lead in his butt. Mom once asked dad how he was going to start it in his 70s( he was 53 when she asked that) his reply was thats what Beth is raising my grandson for! Now, dads 70 and Anthony is 16. I see my dad starting to struggle with the flywheel, and theres days he doesnt feel like climbing up on it. He told Anthony that when he cant do it anymore, the tractors his and dads going to let him drive it the 18 miles to school the final day of his senior year. How do I feel about it? To Anthony, it has special memories of him and his Grampa. To me, it was a school of hard knocks! I somehow managed to get it right though, its dependable, and a pulling fool!
Posted on: Thu, 24 Jul 2014 23:43:08 +0000
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