The Farm Barn and Its Environs: Strength and Gentleness
I have been told that the barn that we had when I was growing up was the largest in that area of Montour County, Pennsylvania. I cannot attest to this fact, but the L-shaped structure certainly had nooks and crannies galore to hide in, poke into, and crawl through.
In addition, the outside areas were froth with buildings, many of which were documented in a 2015 article. The structures permitted a boy to run, play, and hide from a hunting father, who wanted to put the boy to work! The original milk house (used before the modern milk house was built in about 1960) kept cans of cold milk in its lower hold. There was a washing station above it, and I marveled at the muscular ability of my father, Homer S. Hagenbuch (b. 1916), to lift those out of that chasm.
The building beside this was a combination pigpen on the first floor and, above it, the chicken house—both never lacking in snout or fowl. I remember Dad taking those piglets and turning them back down to remove testicles, making them into shoats which are analogous to beef steers. I can hear the squeals from the little piggies and the mews of the hovering cats, who were waiting for their “treats” as they were cut free by my Barlow knife when Dad asked to borrow it.
That Barlow knife was a prized possession, which every farm boy was given to use. It was employed for this macabre event, although mainly used to cut the twine from bales of hay and straw. Those small piglets would eventually grow into behemoths. The huge hogs which were shown at fairs by our cousins, the brothers Bruice (b. 1913) and Andrew “Andy” Hagenbuch (b. 1911).
Winter brought frozen silage, which needed sliced with a chainsaw from the open-air, in-ground silo and hauled into the barn to thaw. In a swampy area where the ice covered some hibernating amphibians, Dad had once hatched an idea for a spring in the early 1960s. He wanted to create a small pond for the cattle to get water. However, it never really came to fruition. Instead, this region turned into a muddy mess that young boys enjoyed slopping around in.
There was a dry field that acted as a sheep pen at one time. Beside it was always laid out a large garden patch that followed the edge of the smoke house and old, fallen down bake oven. I remember the fetid smell within the smokehouse and can recall a few hams hanging inside. The bake oven was in disrepair. The bricks were broken, and when I was very young, I always wondered what the structure was supposed to be!
I believe I had once asked my grandmother, Hannah (Sechler) Hagenbuch (b. 1889), that question. Grandma Hagenbuch answered that she had actually used the bake oven from time to time, a number of years before. A brooder house (chicken coop) sat beyond the machinery shed that was so eloquently described by my brother, Bob, in a previous article.
Old crocks were housed in that shed, along with so much other paraphernalia. These were used for many purposes. One of the most important was fermenting the cabbage that made sauerkraut. The sauerkraut crocks were opened for the New Years Day feast which has been written about before.
Now, this article must end as I look across the room I am now sitting in—the front room in my house—with a warm fireplace looking back at me. The photo I am looking at presently has Grandma Hagenbuch holding some flowers, and she is framed by a grapevine to her left. I am reminded that hollyhocks were her favorite flowers, in addition to the African violets she is holding in the image. Hollyhocks grew at the edge of our farm’s tractor shed.
I’ve taken a circular route around the farm. This began with the strong, mighty barn and ended with the gentleness of of a beloved family member, Grandma, whose favorite flowers grew by the tractor shed.
This brings back many memories and lots of stories about life on a working farm . And I do mean working !! I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the piglets being castrated . Being I was a girl ! I remember the outdoor oven , a source of curiosity . And I actually roller skated in the Grainery , in the barn , as it had a nice wooden floor ! We had a wonderful childhood , caring parents , who taught us to work AND square dance !! Thank you , Mark .