Growing Up on the Farm
A Sharon Mountain Story
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
Planting and Harvesting Corn
Planting corn in the 1940s was quite a bit different than it is today. Dad only planted three to four acres each year. It was solely used as chicken feed, as ensilage was not in vogue yet. To get the kernels of seed corn ready for planting we would put some in a container and pour crow repellant on them. The repellant prevented crows from digging up the planted seed and eating it.
Back then you planted corn with a hand-held device called a corn planter, which was about three and a half feet long. The seed was stored in the middle. The bottom was about three inches wide and opened up to one half inch wide. On the top was a handle with a lever you would squeeze which released four to five kernels and at the same time opened the bottom up so that the kernels would go into the ground. To sum up the process, a man would walk along a string line and every 18 inches, push the planter into the soft soil, pull it out and go to the next spot 18 inches away. Then we would hope for a hot and humid summer so that the corn grew well.
In late October, or early November, the stalks of corn would finally be ready for harvest. Dad had a huge grinding wheel that ran with a motor and would go through water at the bottom of its turn. This wheel was used to sharpen many tools and in this case, corn knives. The corn knife was used to cut stalks of corn. It looked like an oversized sickle with a straight wooden handle about 18 inches long. Cutting corn was back-breaking work, as you had to bend over and swing down at the stalk, cutting it about four inches above the ground. If you had a sharp knife, you could cut two to four stalks at a swing. Then you would pick out a clump of stalks that were still standing near the center of the area you were cutting, and pile the cut stalks against it. This was called a corn shock. As I said, Dad usually planted three to four acres of corn each year and he could cut and stack all of it in two days in between his milkings. Then he usually went and helped other farmers in our area cut their corn.
All in all, farming in those days was neighbor helping neighbor. When husking time came I took part in it. Two or three farmers would come over on a nice day to help Dad husk his corn. They would all sit on the ground and take the stalks from the shock, one by one, and proceed to rip the ear off the stalk, take the husk off the ear, then throw the ear into a pile. It was tedious work but to keep it from getting too boring, there was again the usual bantering between farmers and lots of laughter. And of course, at that time of the year the weather was cool so somebody always brought a jug of hard cider. When the farmers left in the later afternoon, it seemed like everyone was laughing. These were fun times and also times of great camaraderie.
Lastly, we would go and pick up the ears of corn and store them in the corn crib. Usually, once a week, someone would go out and shell enough ears for a week’s worth of corn for the chickens.
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
Richard Carley’s earliest memories of Sharon Mountain were of Albert Metz, whose philanthropic ideas gave many young people from all over the world, their musical start. The book describes the building of Fiddlestyx, Mr. Metz’s summer music school complete with stage, practice cabins, and farm to provide the guests with food.
His next memories were of Bob Metz, Mr. Metz’s nephew, a role model for a young boy growing up on a farm who provided him with a positive attitude, comfort, care, and devotion following a tragic accident.
Other powerful memories were of his father, a former farmer on Sharon Mountain and a First Selectman of the Town of Sharon, and of his grandfather, a builder, carpenter, and cabinet maker in Sharon.
Throughout the book there are stories about things few people know about. Who ever heard of a cowpound on Sharon Mountain, or knew about the reason for the Town Poor Farm? Who knew the town of Sharon had a 3rd District one room school house located on Sharon Mountain? Who has ever heard of swimming pools for pigs?
The author writes about simple things of the time such as the three different types of haymaking that don’t exist today; about raising calves, working with horses for plowing fields, bringing milk to the milk stands, feeding twenty-two cats at once and about raising a bull calf for a short while before realizing it was a heifer calf, who went on to become the best milker in the herd.
Funny things happened in those seventeen years; such things as a black snake he wrapped in a typewriter and a dead woodchuck he hid under the front seat of a friend’s old pickup truck, a full fledged manure fight he had with his brother, and the throwing of the baby sitter’s shoes out in the snow.
The memories are fun, joyful and historical. This is an account of personal relationships and their effect on the history of the area.
About the Author
Richard L. Carley wrote this book for his children and grandchildren so they would know about his life while growing up on Sharon Mountain in Sharon, Connecticut. It portrays his fondest memories as well as the many things that have changed on Sharon Mountain over the past 70 years.
The author came to Sharon (his father’s hometown) in 1942 when he was five years old. Almost immediately he began a 17-year journey he would never forget. This is the period he writes about. Much of his account is the history of the farms on Sharon Mountain as they were in the 1940s and 1950s. The author dissects each farm family on where and how they lived, where they came from, and the love and working relationship they had with each other. He also shows all the farm homes as they exist today.
“Dick Carley’s grandfather, John Carley, built many of the farm houses and barns on Sharon Mountain, and Dick grew up in one of them. He recounts in exquisite detail, what that life was like, how the dairy farmers moved from horse power to tractors and why federal mandates put so many of them out of business. In Growing Up On the Farm, A Sharon Mountain Story, Dick has recaptured a valuable skein of Sharon History, that would otherwise have been lost. The town owes him a vote of thanks.”
Priscilla L. Buckley
Former Senior Editor of the National Review
"Dick Carley’s tale of growing up in Sharon, Connecticut tells us a lot about the American spirit. By the age of ten he had twice been given his last rites by a Catholic priest, survived the whooping cough and lost part of a leg in a farm accident. Yet, Dick never turned bitter and managed to keep his sense of boyhood wonder about a place where neighbors were generous and horses still pulled farm equipment through the fields. His account is a valuable addition to the history of Sharon, a classic New England town made all the better by people like Dick."
Brian Ross
Chief Investigative Correspondent ABC News