On Sept. 5, our John Deere 535 baler went up in smoke. It is a big hit for our small operation, but we have much to be thankful for.
As farmers we do dangerous things every day. Every day we are just going to go swath the wheat, or we are just going to combine, or we are just going to bale the straw. We are always just going to do something. We get into the habit of just going to do our work and we take everything for granted. Sometimes we need a gentle reminder that what we do has the potential to be dangerous — but perhaps even more importantly we need the reminder that we truly are blessed.
That last statement may seem strange, but hear me out. That morning Gregory got the tractor and baler ready for me while I got the kids ready to go to Grandma’s house. As we passed each other, Gregory reminded me that in case of a fire to head for the summerfallow, dump the bale and try to put out the fire. If all fails, pull the pin on the hitch and drive away to save the tractor at least. Gregory was headed out to swath John’s wheat on one of the fields farthest from home. John was swathing his barley just south of the wheat field I was to go bale. Why did Gregory feel the need to remind me? I’ve been baling for some time now and while I do not claim to be any expert, it is a fairly comfortable job for me to do.
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When I first saw the flames on the baler, I was scared, but I had the list of what to do fresh in my mind and I didn’t hesitate. I drove the tractor and baler into the summerfallow field and dumped the bale. The fire was progressing much too quickly, so I decided to unpin the baler. The pin wouldn’t move. I got back in the tractor and backed up a bit to get the pin to unbind. The belts were on fire at this point. I tried the pin again, finally it came loose, and I drove the tractor away. The flames were two feet higher than the baler at this point. There was no saving the baler. I checked to make sure the bale was far enough away from the field and thanked God that the wind was blowing away from the stubble field.
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I radioed Barb and told her I had a fire. She went for John and I went for a truck to go get Gregory. As we raced back home, Gregory was giving me more instructions in case it did get into the stubble field. As we neared, we noticed the neighbours with their water trucks. They got the fire out on the baler, then Gregory pushed the bale around with the tractor and they got the fire out there as well.
The boys cried, especially James, to see the baler in flames. To James it was like losing a good friend. Was there something different or more I could have done? Probably. Was it a big loss that will take some time to recover from? Yes. But we are going to use this opportunity to count our blessings. Thanks be to God that Gregory listened to that little voice that told him to refresh my memory on what to do in case of a fire. I would have taken it to the stubble field, but would I have remembered I could pull the pin on the baler and drive away? Or would I have tried to undo the PTO and taken too long and lost the tractor or gotten burned in the process? Gregory and John pointed out to me the melted slow-moving sign on the back of the tractor the next day. I thought it was a little hot in there! They figured there must have been a hydraulic oil leak to make the fire burn that hot and progress that fast.
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Thanks be to God that we have summerfallow and I was baling on the south side of the field nearest to it. Thanks be to God that the wind was blowing away from the stubble field. Thanks be to God that we have neighbours who came on the run as soon as they saw smoke.
Experiences like this should remind us to count our blessings first. No one got hurt. The tractor was saved. Not one acre was burned. No homes or yards were lost. All we lost that day was the baler. After we count our blessings, we realize how bad things could have been and how blessed we truly are.
