We Didn't Need to Go To Disneyland
We Didn't Need to Go To Disneyland
Copyright 2006, Harris B. McKee
Our new barn was modern for Warren County and our father had been truly innovative in the barn design. To explain one of the basic creative features, I’m going to have to get really down and dirty because it deals with a fundamental part of barn design—manure handling. (You’ll see later how that eliminated the need for Disneyland.)
Barn design evolved through three major steps before milking parlors changed everything and basically eliminated the need for cow barns. The older barn designs had some kind of wooden stanchion which locked the cows in place by holding their neck. This kept the cows lined up parallel to each other which was good because their waste dropped behind them instead of under each other. There wasn’t much to contain the waste, however, so quite a lot of straw was used to soak up the liquid.
The next step placed the cows on a platform so that they were above their waste. This provided less demands on straw but still lacked much control.
In our new barn, the floor was concrete. The stanchions were metal, and embedded in the concrete manger.[1] At the cows’ rear, there was a trench about 15 inches wide and five or six inches deep. This trench even had a drain to help remove some of the water waste. The truly innovative part of this design was in the length of concrete from stanchion to trench. Our father designed this length so that at the north end of the barn it was longer than at the south end. This variation provided a way to conform the space to the size of the cow. A heifer might expect to be placed at the south end; mature cows would occupy the northern positions.[2]
A few of our neighbors had barn doors that were wide enough to let a manure spreader pass through the barn thus permitting easy access to the offal in trench or otherwise. Our doors were too narrow to permit such access and besides there were days of rain or in the winter when such transport was impossible.
We had a “Litter Carrier” mounted on an overhead track. This carrier traversed the length of the barn and exited on the west side of the building for a considerable length.
In the summertime, the manure spreader might be placed under the track outside for convenient dumping. The carrier itself was basically a semi-cylinder about five feet long and perhaps 2-1/2 feet in diameter. When dumped, the carrier rotated freely. Remember this point.
In the wintertime, snow and mud prevented regular trips to the field with the manure spreader so a pile formed under the outside track. Usually, this resembled a haystack under the track but as the spring thaw occurred this was not always the case. Liquid components would thaw and begin to ooze out, not as a stream, but more as a plastic expansion of the lower parts of the stack. This is the second point to remember; we’re getting closer to the Disney stuff.
Our mother was responsible for the garden and the chickens. Daddy took care of everything else. Occasionally, acquaintances would stop buy and buy eggs direct from the farm which they considered superior to what they could buy at the grocery store. One of these semi-regular customers was an assistant minister at Westminster United Presbyterian Church in Des Moines. This family had a couple of boys about my brother Alan’s age and one Sunday afternoon the whole family stopped by for eggs. Alan, who was probably about eight years old, was given the task of showing the boys around the farm while mother got some eggs ready. He hit upon the idea of showing the city boys that we had an entertaining ride on the farm. He climbed up on the litter carrier at the west barn door. Since it was turned to dump, he could ride on the outside and have a clean ride….for awhile. He pushed off from the barn and careened west rocking back and forth on the carrier. His momentum ran out when he was positioned over the pile. When the carrier rotated and he jumped or fell, he expected to be supported by the stack. Much to his dismay, he sank to his waist in the waste! For some reason, the Des Moines lads turned down a ride of their own although that had been part of the original offer; Alan was just going to demonstrate.
To add insult to injury, when he got to the house seeking support from our mother, she wouldn’t let him in the house. Instead, she placed him under the faucet at the side of the house and prewashed him. You can easily see why, with a ride like this, that Disneyland just couldn’t compare.
[1] These stanchions were supplied by Louden who also provided the cupola including a cow weather vane on the roof,
[2] An interesting aspect of herdsmanship was that cows learned very quickly which stall was hers. Reentering the barn in a single file, each cow would return to her spot. We occasionally had to teach them a new location and although we were successful, I don’t remember how long the transition required.