I am a preacher and a farmer, an advocate of locally grown food and of restoring the viability of small scale farms. I serve a downtown church in Decatur, Alabama, the River City located on the southern banks of the Tennessee River, with a population 56,000. I believe churches in cities like this one are key players in creating direct sale markets for local farmers to sell their produce and thrive as small-scale farmers who stay small enough to know their land well and the people who buy and eat their food.
Made a correction to my earlier blog based on a recorded conversation I had with Daddy in December of 2012. Someone his daddy had lent money to could not pay but insisted he take his 2 plowhorses in payment. That sent them out of town to live at the Barfield farm and use the horses to feed the family.
The Rev. Lavelle Reynolds died at age 102 on March 4, 2017. Lavelle was the first of four children born to John Thomas Hughey and Inas Octavia Whatley Reynolds. He was born at their farmstead home in Barfield, Alabama. Before Lavelle started school, Thomas Hughey and Octavia moved their family into the nearby town of Lineville and lived in rental housing until they could build a house on property they had purchased on 2nd Avenue, which was close to downtown and to Lineville schools. Thomas Hughey had lent a farmer money and the farmer unable to pay his rent because his crops had failed. The farmer insisted that Thomas Hughey take his plowhorse for payment. Thomas Hughey refused but the farmer insisted. Having no way place to keep the mules in town, the family moved back to the Bafield farm in order to keep the mules and put them to use…
The Rev. Lavelle Reynolds died at age 102 on March 4, 2017. Lavelle was the first of four children born to John Thomas Hughey and Inas Octavia Whatley Reynolds. He was born at their farmstead home in Barfield, Alabama. Before Lavelle started school, Thomas Hughey and Octavia moved their family into the nearby town of Lineville and lived in rental housing until they could build a house on property they had purchased on 2nd Avenue, which was close to downtown and to Lineville schools. Thomas Hughey had lent a farmer money and the farmer unable to pay his rent because his crops had failed. The farmer insisted that Thomas Hughey take his plowhorse for payment. Thomas Hughey refused but the farmer insisted. Having no way place to keep the mules in town, the family moved back to the Bafield farm in order to keep the mules and put them to use to provide for the family. Young Lavelle, the oldest child, was held out of school when he was old enough for first grade and again the next year in order to help with farm chores. Lavelle would tell this story but then proudly say, “But once I started school, I was double promoted and caught up with my class.”
The family eventually finished their house in Lineville and moved there permanently. The house still stands across from Clay County Coop. In addition to farming, Lavelle began working with his father at the Lineville Gin and Fertilizer Company soon after he graduated from Lineville High School. The gin and fertilizer company became a franchise dealer of a relatively new technology, John Deere tractors, which was about to change farming more than anybody knew. Lavelle went to tractor school in Chamblee, Georgia and Des Moines, Iowa, and at the company headquarters in Moline, Illinois.
He trained to become the chief mechanic and continued in that role for the life of the Lineville Gin and Fertilizer. He became one of the very best John Deere mechanics in the region. No one was able to fine tune magnetos to fire hotter than Lavelle Reynolds. Lavelle continued to help his father on the Lineville farm his father bought in the 1930s just outside town and work a 50 hour week at the tractor shop. When there was not enough repair work to fill his hours, he would unload train car loads of fertilizer and sand or transfer 500 pound cotton bales from the gin to the warehouse on handtrucks.
Lavelle was single until age 31. On March 3, 1946 he married Imogene Bean, the youngest daughter of Preacher Pembleton and his wife Sally Bean. Imogene had gone with her father in his A-Model Ford all over Clay and Randolph Counties where he was pastor to as many as nine Congregational Christian churches at a time. She was known for organizing and running dynamic Vacation Bible Schools in all the churches her father served. When she and Lavelle married, Lavelle not only attended Sunday school and church but they helped lead the youth group in the Lineville First Methodist Church where Lavelle became a Lay Leader. He had a lot of help from Imogene. Having Imogene by his side helped Lavelle hear God’s call to the ministry. Lavelle became a licensed Methodist preacher in 1957. He served circuits of churches for most of his ministerial career, a total of 24 congregations in Clay, Randolph, Tallapoosa, Coosa, and Chambers Counties. For almost twenty years, Lavelle was a part-time pastor. He still worked 50 hour weeks at Lineville Gin and Fertilizer, completed junior college and did his ministerial studies at night, farmed on Saturday afternoons and summer weekday evenings, (while enlisting his sons and daughters to help with the farm and garden work), and preached and visited on Sundays. When the Lineville Gin and Fertilizer closed for good in the early 1970s, Lavelle and another mechanic bought the inventory, gained the John Deere franchise, and opened the Equipment Service Company.
In 1976, he sold his share of the tractor business so he and Imogene could serve churches full-time. He had earlier completed his ministerial studies to become an Ordained Deacon in 1968 and in 1978, following two years of full-time service, he was received as an Associate Member of the North Alabama Conference. He retired from the North Alabama Conference in 1984 but served churches in retirement until the late 1990s. After Daddy retired, my brother Rod (Roderick) and I revived our interest in the John Deere tractors Daddy had worked on full time for over 35 years. Rod had one of Daddy’s John Deere A tractors and had partially restored it. I bought a 1956 model 420 John Deere and had Daddy help restore it.
From 2000-2004, he would go with us to Moultrie, GA each October for the Sunbelt Agricultural Expo where my brother and I hauled our tractors for the antique tractor display and parade. Lavelle quickly became known as the John Deere two-cylinder expert there. Antique tractor owners came to our tent to ask Daddy questions. Many times he made critical diagnoses or adjustments on their engines. Once a representative from John Deere Corporation asked him to come look at an old B model tractor that had a problem. Daddy diagnosed an electrical shortage and made their vintage tractor run like a sewing machine. He found a John Deere A in a junk yard near my brother’s home in 2003 and restored it to mint condition. I have it on my farm today.
There are a couple stories from Daddy’s farm work and from his ministry that stand out to me. He did custom farm work prior to and during WW2. He used his John Deere tractor and tiller plow to turn many of the hillside terraces in and around Lineville. Once while plowing with his John Deere B, the rear tire climbed a stump he failed to see and flipped the tractor. Daddy jumped clear of it, got up and turned off the gas to kill the engine, and while his adrenaline was flowing, he rocked the tractor back on all 4 tires and continued plowing. Lavelle is remembered by hundreds of poeple in the churches he served as a loving and attentive pastor and for his strong and sincere prayers that often went into great detail in both describing the need someone had and the scripture that attested to God’s ability to answer that prayer and meet that need. Daddy was pastor to a family that lost children and their parents in a traffic accident. He met them at the hospital and stood by them through the months of recovery and grief that followed. Almost fifty years afterwards, the father in the family would tell me how helpful Daddy was to his family.
Imogene died in 1992 from injuries sustained in an auto collision. It occurred while Daddy and Mother were on the way home from a funeral where they went to support a family that had started attending the church Daddy served and had lost a loved one. Daddy married Eurla Langley in 1993. She died in 2002. He married Edna Smith in 2004 and she died in 2007. From November 2006 until October 2011, Lavelle lived at Ava Hills Assisted Living in Wedowee. While there, he had multiple falls fracturing his back and creating spinal stenonsis. He lost so much strength in his legs in late 2011 that he was hospitalized and then admitted to Lineville Health and Rehab for physical therapy.
The spinal stenosis was so severe he never regained his ability to walk. He adjusted, however, and was able to get around the nursing home in his wheel chair as well as anyone. He soon found his role as the preacher and had a ministry of praying for both patients, staff, and visitors as they faced difficult times. Everyone called him “Preacher” and the entire nursing home made sure he always had his signiture hat when he left his room, a black brimmed John Deere hat. During the last three years of his life, Lavelle fought multiple bouts with pneumonia and urinary tract infections. He lost a lot of muscle mass and strength during the last three months of his life and finally succummed to an infection on March 4. He was lucid and communicated clearly until two days before he died.
Lavelle Reynolds was preceded in death by his parents, John Thomas Hughey and Inas Octavia Whatley Reynolds; his brothers Brenton and Thelson Reynolds; his sister Vaudria Reynolds Headrick; his wife Imogene Bean Reynolds; his son Roderick Lavelle Reynolds; his second wife Eurla Langley Reynolds; and his third wife Edna Smith Reynolds. He is survived by his daughter in law Barbara Strait Reynolds of Opp, AL; daughter Carolyn Hill and her husband Jimmy of Carrollton, GA; son the Rev. Hughey Reynolds and his wife Sandy Jones of Decatur, AL; and daughter Charlotte Junkins and her husband Wayne of Northport, AL. He is also survived by nine grandchildren: Pam Murphy, Dan White, Eric Reynolds, Christopher Reynolds, Whitney Yancey, Jonathan Reynolds, Kenny Whaley, Jonah Lewis, and Justin Lewis, and 23 great-grandchildren.
The funeral visitation will be Thursday, March 9, from 12:30-2:00 p.m. at Lineville First United Methodist Church with the funeral service starting at 2:00 p.m. Pallbearers for the service are his grandsons. Anyone desiring to make memorial gifts may direct them to Lineville First United Methodist Church or to SIFAT.
This blog site has been dormant since September of last year. The absence of blogs does not mean my interest in and convictions about the intersection of theology and agriculture have waned. Sandy and I did move last June from Huntsville, AL where I had served as pastor of a church for ten years to Decatur, AL where I became the pastor of Decatur First United Methodist Church. Is First Church less receptive to my agricultural musings than my last congregation? Actually, I have written less on this blog site about farming and faith because I have been given so many other opportunities for proclaiming and putting into practice the words of our Creator God who said, “by the sweat of your face you will eat bread–until you return to the fertilue land, since from it you were taken; you are soil, to the soil you will return” (Genesis 3:19 Common English Bible).
Over the past year I have been given opportunities to live and speak out of my conviction that reconnecting to the soil is central to biblical faith. The first thing I did before unpacking much of anything was build raised beds in the back yard of the parsonage to grow some of the food Sandy and I eat. At church I have preached numerous sermons that address the close relationship between faith and farming, agriculture and theology. In December of last year the Decatur City Council appointed me to the Morgan County-Decatur Farmers Market Board. I have also been honored to serve on the National Board for the Society of Saint Andrew, a gleaning ministry committed to ending hunger by also eliminating food waste. During the spring, I was invited to teach a weekly class at the church called “Reading the Bible through Agrarian Eyes” using Ellen Davis’ book Scripture, Culture, and Agriculture as a guide to study biblical texts that honor and seek to preserve a healthy agrarian culture wherever God’s people live.
No teaching is complete without complementary action, so the most fulfilling development currently in full swing is a community garden called The Urban Acre located about two miles from our church. A group of thirty church members volunteered to start and maintain this garden. The first concept of the garden was for a 25 x 25 ft. area that 6 people who agreed to help could maintain. When many more church and community members than I expected showed up on May 24 to help, we started expanding the garden so that it is now over 4 times as large as our first design. It is approximately 50 x 65 ft. and contains a great variety of vegetables and fruit. The sign shown below tells the purpose of our community garden.
Down on the Reynolds Farm, which is three hours south of Decatur in Lineville, AL, I have had an active year of keeping the farm going while working full time in ministry. To do that, I employ a part time helper who checks on and feeds the cows 3-4 times a week and I usually spend a Thursday evening through Saturday afternoon there twice a month. I maintain a small cow-calf operation there that, the Lord willing, I plan to quadruple in size when I retire and move closer. In the meantime, I am caring for the land as much as I can, and having cows keeps me working to provide good grazing and hay. I spread 82 tons of lime on the pasture and hay fields this year and fertilized my hay fields in hopes of some drought ending rain. I want to put up 400-500 square bales for the winter but will need the help of the Good Lord with rain and family members and hired help with good backs and heat tolerance to make it happen. I do this because I love to farm, I am committed to caring for the land that has been in my family for 3 generations, I plan to retire there, the Lord willing, and I plan for my sons and grandsons to know, love, and care for this land.
One thing I am now more aware of than I have ever been is the temptation for ministry and church life to become sedentary, and in the process kill us as human beings and kill the church. The more technology we have at our fingertips the less engaged we are with the physical world God created and called us to steward. We think we are doing God’s work through virtual encounters with it, and we miss the Incarnation of God as we do. I make this promise to myself, my supervisors, and to the church I serve: As long as I have the bodily capacity to do it, I will not conclude my years of ministry primarily sitting behind a computer or standing behind a pulpit. My ministry will be more and more out in the community with people of the world and the church putting our hands and sweat into the miraculous, life-giving soil God gives us to grow plants for food and to share that food with the hungry. In that process, we and everyone who joins us in this endeavor will discover and feast upon the Bread of Life. Life began in a garden. The Lord commands us to garden. Jesus was raised from death to eternal life in a garden. We belong in a garden!
In a speech given during his visit to the United States, Pope Francis named climate change as an urgent and critical issue for world leaders to acknowledge and take action to stop. One politician who took issue with the Pope’s statement was Republican presidential candidate Rick Santorum, who claims to be a devout Catholic and to love Pope Francis. “The church has gotten it wrong a few times on science,” Santorum said on a Philadelphia radio program. “We probably are better off leaving science to the scientists, and focusing on what we’re really good at, which is theology and morality.” He said further, “I’ve said this to the Catholic bishops many times — when they get involved in agriculture policy, or things like that, that are really outside of the scope of what the Church’s main message is, that we’re better off sticking to the things that are really the core teachings of the Church as opposed to getting involved in every other kind of issue that happens to be popular at the time.” Santorum has plenty company among politicians, including Democrats, who want to confine religion to the realm of the spiritual that has nothing to say about the physical or material world.
Someone needed to tell the writers of the Bible that the spiritual and physical world are separate and that one has nothing significant to contribute to the other. Using the science of their day, the Biblical writers related spiritual and eternal truths to all facets of physical and temporal life as they knew it. The science of their day was limited to their available tools and methods of discovery. No one at the time had disproved that the earth was a flat landmass floating on the underworld, that the sky was a dome separating heaven from earth, and that the earth and underworld were supported by pillars. Many biblical passages assume this view of the world limited to what is seen with the unaided physical eyes of observers who had no access to the world beyond their locale.
As science has advanced to further clarify and make discoveries about many facets of physical and temporal life, spiritual and eternal truths relate no less than before to the expanded and more detailed understanding of our world that science presents. Santorum is right when he says the church has gotten it wrong a few times when it comes to science. When the church has held to cosmologies and theories of creation that ignored or denied the findings of science, we have driven a larger wedge between science and religion and made the church’s message less believable. As a Jesuit priest, Pope Francis studied science extensively and takes the findings of science seriously.
The debate among politicians is really over whose science to believe regarding climate change, the science underwritten by multinational corporations and billionaires whose industries contribute significantly to air and water pollution, or science that is dependent on no funding from those corporations. We could start by identifying which politicians are receiving campaign contributions from the same corporate giants that are funding the research on climate change. My observation is that those politicians embrace the scientific research espoused by their corporate benefactors, which is the same thing the church has done when we “have gotten it wrong a few times on science”: we rejected the science that challenged our world view and threatened our source of income.
I went out on a limb a year and a half ago when I published a book titled The Land That Calls Me Home: Connecting God’s People to God’s Land through God’s Church. I base claims in that book on biblical principles and on science that is not beholden to multinational corporations that support and profit from large scale farming and the billions in U.S. taxes funneled through farm subsidies that keep them viable. In one 29 page chapter of the book titled “Why Farms Are the Church’s Business,” I take on the challenge like the one Rick Santorum made to the Pope’s agenda. We need leaders in the church and in Washington who are unafraid to address the health of this planet God created not merely from a political and economic perspective but from a theological, moral, social, and an objective scientific perspective as well. If they lose funding for it, so what? They are doing what is right. One much shorter chapter in the book titled “Is the Empire Striking Back or Listening” addresses efforts by corporate industrial agricultural to hijack the small but rapidly growing locally grown and agrarian movements while still advancing the science that says farmers must farm on a large scale to supply the global market if they want to survive
It is time for moral discourse in all our communities about issues related to farming, the soil, and yes, all the environment as well as the economy. We have previously left these topics to politicians. My book is an invitation to start or advance that conversation between you and members of your community, with me, and nationwide through social networking. You can purchase The Land That Calls Me Home on Amazon. The paperback is $11 and the Kindle version $7. Visit my facebook page devoted to the promotion of small-scale farming and conversation about issues related to farming for local consumption and let me hear your views and concerns on this topic.
I am moving. Bishop Debra Wallace-Padgett has appointed me to become the pastor at First United Methodist Church in Decatur, Alabama. My first Sunday there will be June 14, 2015. See more about this appointment in the Decatur First UMC newsletter, Tidings of Joy. I published The Land That Calls Me Home one year ago in March. The book title led many to think I was on my way as quickly as possible to my beloved farm in Lineville, Alabama where I lived as a child. A large portion of the farm Sandy and I own today was part of the Reynolds family farm in Lineville. I raise cattle on that farm and my 101 year old father is in the nursing home close to it. I travel to Lineville twice a month and spend at least some of my vacation and many holidays there.
When some of my friends and church members heard that I had been appointed to Decatur First, they told me they were disappointed for me because they had hoped the Bishop would move me closer to my farm. Daddy has called twice to ask how this move will affect my ability to visit him and serve as his power of attorney. Decatur First is 31 miles farther away from Lineville than Latham in Huntsville, but the travel time will be 20 minutes less because I will now drive most of the way on the interstate. The travel time is 2 hours 40 minutes instead of 3 hours.
Pastoral appointments in the North Alabama Conference of the United Methodist Church are made in a closed session between the bishop and the eight members of her cabinet. One of those members is my district superintendent who represented me. He had met with me and had my input but was not allowed to disclose to me specific churches for which I was being considered. From what I have learned about the process, I was nominated for several positions, some of which would have taken me closer to the farm and my father and some farther away. I can tell you that when I gave my district superintendent my priorities, moving closer to the farm was not one of them.
My first priority was and is to be a good match for the people I will serve. I believe this match is made when both the pastor and the church listen to and respect the life stories and faith journeys of the other. We will find our sweet spot where our stories and journeys intersect. There we will grow together and do our part of ushering God’s Kingdom into our community and world.
My second priority was and is to allow Sandy to continue her work in Huntsville until she is ready to retire. We were willing to live apart, as some of our pastors and superintendents do now, if there was no appointment within commuting distance for her that met our first priority (above). Decatur is within commuting distance.
My third priority was and is to be accessible and available to my family. Sandy and I have children and grandchildren in Daphne, 350 miles from Huntsville, and my father still lives in Lineville. Of course this priority would become #1 if there was an emergency. We have had to accept that under normal conditions, being with family will require travel in order to honor our first two priorities.
Returning to live at or near the farm before I retire was not one of my priorities. My ideal world would be where churches I could most effectively serve, Sandy’s work, my children and grandchildren, my father, and our farm and house on the lake were all in one place. That place is the Garden of Eden where no one lives anymore. In The Land That Calls Me Home, nostalgia for the Eden of my childhood does ooze out in a few places. The thrust of the book, however, is toward the future and not the past. Overcoming our estrangement from the soil is a requirement for living in the future Kingdom of God, and that starts where you and I live right now. For me overcoming estrangement from the soil in Decatur will include gardening wherever I can, in raised beds or containers in my backyard or with others in a community garden.
On a larger scale, overcoming estrangement from the soil
will include finding ways for the church to engage in ministries that help them and others reconnect with the soil. In my present appointment, I was in my 6th year when a few members helped me grow vegetables at a neighboring church garden for CASA, a ministry assisting low income seniors. I was in my 8th year when Latham started a Farmers Market that will continue to connect city dwellers and small-scale farmers in the area long after I am gone.
How we will restore a healthy relationship between people and the good, life-giving earth while I am in Decatur, I do not yet know. I do know that we will to the extent that we experience more fully the Kingdom of God on earth. And that is certainly the hope and prayer I have for my ministry with the people of Decatur First UMC. They and I will fulfill God’s call on our lives as we use the influence we have as God’s church in this place to impact the planet by bringing the Kingdom of God more fully upon it. The day will come for me to return to the farm. Today the fields are in Decatur ready for planting, ready for cultivating, ready for God to give the growth until the harvest.
The Land That Calls Me Home rolled off the press one year ago this week on March 25. I published it independently through Creaetespace, an Amazon company. I was also in charge of publicizing the release of the book. I reached out through social media and email to friends, family members, ministry colleagues, church members, locally grown food advocates, high school and college classmates, and writers I knew to promote the book. I started a blog and a Facebook page associated with the book to promote growing your own food and buying locally to support area farmers. The initial response was favorable. A couple hundred books sold in a few weeks through Amazon and personal sales. I ran out of books a couple of times at special events where I had the opportunity to sell them.
Between my full-time work of pastoral ministry and farming and gardening as much and often as I could, I had limited time to promote the book. Sales plateaued and declined. When interested friends would ask me how the book was selling I told them, “As well as I promote it.” I spent hundreds of hours over a five year period developing the book that finally went to press after more edits than I cared to count. I was tired of writing and relieved to finally tell the publisher to print the book for distribution and make it available on Kindle. But the real work for which I was not prepared was promoting the book past the initial three-month wave of interest. I have come to understand why Henry Ford said that trying to save money by cutting advertising is like trying to save time by turning back the clock.
In his books Tribes and The Icarus Deception, bestselling author Seth Godin stresses the importance of targeting the market for your product and message. General publicity is no better than publicity to the wrong market. I have made several friends over the years through cattle farming who are into industrial farming. Because they know me, they bought the book. They read enough to know that it was not for them but advocated an alternative to the way they farm. They did not tell their friends to buy it. The best advertisers for the book have been people who bought it, resonated with the stories and ideas in it, were helped or encouraged by it, and who told their friends about it and reached out to network with me because we are espousing similar or compatible ideas.
The tribes I have connected with most are agrarians, churched agrarians, and more specifically evangelical churched agrarians. I am a mainline churched agrarian, which sets me on the edge of the tribe that has embraced my book, the way of life I advocate, and me the most. I have yet to find evidence of many mainline churched agrarians, which leads me to conclude that almost all farmers left in my own denomination are still pursuing and espousing industrial agriculture. The book I wrote challenges the core assumptions of industrial agriculture, so I surmise that I am at best a fugitive of their tribe, and at worst a turncoat. I realize too that any big money from farming is derived from industrial agriculture, although most of it is enjoyed not by the farmers themselves but by the big corporations that supply equipment and chemicals to large-scale farmers. None of these have been big fans of my book or of my challenging the mainline church to promote local small-scale farm sales rather than the global food market.
I do still hold to the hope that a growing number of restless souls within the mainline church will get it that the way we on earth farm in the future has to change for the sake of our planet and its inhabitants. When they do, the message of my book to the church will have been heard. If in the next generation we do not reduce the distance between the people of earth and the soil, a distance created through my generation’s infatuation with the industrialization of agriculture, the words of Lamentations 4:9 will become our reality: “Those killed by the sword are better off than those who die of famine; racked with hunger, they waste away for lack of food from the field.”
There is irony here that I address in The Land That Calls Me Home. At first glance, the industrialization of farming appears to be the answer to increasing the food supply. Farmers can farm larger tracts of land with heavier modern equipment and crop yield has increased exponentially since the advent of chemical fertilizer. Genetically modified seed for row crop production and the widespread use of antibiotics and hormones that cause livestock and poultry to grow bigger faster are putting millions of tons more food on supermarket shelves than we would have without them. There is a hidden price we are paying now for these practices and that generations after us will pay in the diminished quality of our soil, water, and physical health. The way we farm now is not really efficient because it is not sustainable. There is another way that requires some changes in the way we live, what we eat, and how we relate to the soil. For more on the these topics, read The Land That Calls Me Home available in print and on Kindle through Amazon.
I have encountered cows with bad temperaments in my life, but none like the mama cow and two of her offspring that I finally caught, loaded, and sent to the sale at the end of the summer of 2014. Before telling you about the worst ones I have encountered, let me tell you about some bad ones.
When I was growing up, Daddy had a Holstein milk cow we named Pansy. I was too young at the time to understand the irony of her name. She was a good milker or Daddy would not have kept her, but she was mean. Pansy was agreeable enough to enter the milking stall for the sweet feed she’d eat there. We milked the cows by hand back then. As soon as the bucket was almost full, Pansy would try her best to kick it over, or better yet kick one of us. She could swish her tail like a whip and liked to slap us in the face, especially if her tail had manure on it. She was so frequently successful at toppling the milk that bringing in a full bucket of clean milk from milking Pansy won the applause from the whole family at the breakfast table.
In 1997, my friend Keith Watkins introduced a Hereford Bull someone had given him to my herd of heifers that needed to be bred. Keith told me the bull had charged him before, but I kept my distance and we got along OK in the open pasture. One day we were tagging and vaccinating calves and inoculating cows when I decided it was the Hereford bull’s time to be de-wormed . At that very moment the bull decided he wasn’t getting a shot that day. I picked up a 2 x 4 to persuade him and he shook his head and scratched the ground one time before he charged to persuade me to hurdle the fence and leave his comfort zone. As I jumped the fence of the catch pen, I caught a metal post with the soft side of my thigh ripping the new pair of Carhartt work jeans I was wearing. I ended up getting a shot myself, a shot of the local anesthesia the doc injected before sewing up the gash in my leg. I didn’t bring that bull back to breed my cows after that.
In 2006 the livestock yard owner Justin McCollum bought me a replacement heifer and dropped her off in the feedlot so she’d get acclimated to the farm before I let her out in the big pasture with the rest of the herd. Problem was, I had moved the herd to another pasture and this cow was alone with no other cows in sight for 24 to 36 hours in a strange feedlot and nothing but a water trough before my helper David went to check on her. I’m not sure if she was wild on the farm where she was raised or if the isolation made here crazy. When David opened the gate and walked in, she panicked, and rammed a bull panel fence of the feedlot repeatedly until she broke a post and fled through the pasture and through the pasture fence. A neighbor called me two weeks after her great escape saying he found her hiding down in the woods beside his bottoms but inside his pasture fence. I opened a gate between his pasture and mine and she eventually joined my herd. Her flight zone was about 100 feet, so the first day she came into the feed lot and I was able to close the gate on her was the day she went on the trailer and to the sale. A flighty cow spreads anxiety to the entire herd, and anxious cows and calves don’t grow as fast as calm ones. She had to go.
I would prefer to ride bareback on any or all of the bovine described above than to be in the the same feedlot, not to mention a loading alley, with the cow, or any of her offspring, that I recently sold. I originally bought her after the April 27, 2011 tornadoes ripped through Alabama causing so much destruction. The livestock buyer told me she came from the Phil Campbell area that was hit hard by the storms. A lot of pasture fences were yanked out of the ground by the storm and livestock wandered for days while farmers tended to the loss of human life and loss of homes. I surmise that this cow was traumatized by the storm which left her spooked. She perceived the slightest movement as a threat and had a flight zone of 50 yards. A farmer actually wanted to buy her yearling bull as a herd bull but the bull was as anxious as his mother. The buyer had come twice to load him. The first time my farm helper David tried to load him, but the bull broke a feedlot fence post, ripped through a heavy gauge bull panel, and escaped. The next time, I herded him into the alley leading to a waiting trailer. Before he reached the trailer, he hurdled over a 6-foot high cattle panel and escaped. The buyer decided then and there he did not want the bull even at a discounted price.
My helper said the wild mama cow and her calves would come into the feed lot if he filled feed troughs on both sides and then walked away from the area and hid. I did that one day late this summer,and was able to crawl back unseen and close the gates on the trio I wanted gone. I had reinforced the feedlot catch pen, added a row of 2×10″ boards to raise the height of the entire loading alley, and had six gates counting the head gate to close behind the cows as they advanced in the alley toward the trailer. I first loaded 2 calmer weaned calves I was ready to sell. The yearling bull of the wild trio walked onto the trailer with them. Eddie Borden, new owner of the livestock yard, had brought his heavy duty trailer that had 2 seciton gates and 3 separate sections. We closed the first 3 in the front section. We tried to load the heifer calf next but she got out the alley side gate into a corral. Next was wild mama herself.
I got into the open catch pen with her and walked around the edge until she passed the pivot point of the crowding gate. I pushed it forward as fast as I could so the only way she could go was into the alley. She ran all the way through the alley. I closed the alley gates behind her in case she decided to retreat. The last one I closed was the head gate of the working stall. Wild mama took one look at the trailer, managed to turn around and charged the closed head gate. She was trapped and was bellowing loudly. I stepped into the alley between her and the trailer. She was 30 feet away. She could feel me closing in on her, so she lowered her head and charged. I jumped onto a board I had nailed onto the loading alley fence high enough for the cow to run between my legs. My son thought she had crushed my legs against the alley fence, but her flesh and the heavy wire fence gave enough that I was not hurt but merely smeared with manure that she had accumulated on her sides from all her thrashing about. She ran under my legs and onto the trailer. I jumped down and closed the back gate of the trailer. “She’s loaded,” I said. “Take her with you.” Eddie said, “Her calf would bring you $1000 tomorrow. You gonna leave her here?” I agreed I wanted to send her calf too, so we had to move wild mama up a section in the trailer so we could load her calf in the back. That would have been no problem, but by this time wild mama was turning in circles counter clockwise throwing herself against the steel rails of the trailer sides and back gate. The gate opened counter clockwise too so we were unable to open it. We finally provoked the cow to start turning clockwise and when she was closest to the hinge side of the gate we opened it enough for her to squeeze around the latch end of the gate and advance into the middle section, bawling and bellowing and foaming at the mouth as she did. Eddie pushed the gate. My son was outside the trailer on the latch side and he locked it tight. Getting the smaller calf in after that was a cinch.
Eddie said after we had them all loaded, “I’m gonna kill her.” I said, “Good. How much you gonna pay me before you kill her?” He estimated she’d bring $1400, but she acted up at the sale the next day and brought $1150. Considering that I would have paid someone that much to take her before sending her away, that was pretty good money. I typically have some remorse when I send cattle to the sale, or at least some sentimental thoughts about having enjoyed interactions with those that are leaving. Not with this trio.
Handling bad tempered cattle gets my adrenaline flowing and creates excitement in farming, but I can tell you one thing for sure: I will personally screen all the cows that come to my pasture from now on. Flighty, ill-tempered, mean cows need not apply.