James Herrick: Memories of my granddad and a bygone era

Something terrible happened to me the other day. The telehandler broke down.

More so than that, though, it meant I had to resort to using the loader tractor for yard work, which, when you are used to four-wheel steering, is more difficult than it first seems.

It may seem odd, but it made me think about my granddad. My farming lineage comes from my paternal side, with our farm purchased in 1961 by my grandparents and great grandparents.

About the author

James Herrick

James Herrick is based on his family’s suckler beef and arable farm in Leicestershire. A passionate conservationist, he’s keen on using technology to maximise agriculture’s profitability and lessen its impact on the environment. Away from the farm he likes to compete in triathlons and endurance races.

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Money was tight for them back then and they had to adopt a “make do and mend” attitude that drove our farm to where it is today.

I was never fortunate enough to meet my paternal grandmother, but I spent a lot of my childhood with my granddad.

I would sit for days on a milking stool wedged between the levers of a John Deere 1065 combine harvester, wondering why he only filled 12ft of his 14ft header, or squeezed into the middle seat of his 90 Land Rover Defender excited for when I got to steer around the “big” fields when out shepherding.

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He would tell stories from his youth, when they would horse-rake the stubbles and stack the remnants on trestles in the woods for the gamekeepers to use, and how he used to repurpose multiple hessian sacks to keep warm when ploughing on the cab-less Fordson Majors during the harsh winters. I miss his stories.

Yet as silly as it sounds, when the telehandler with a cab and aircon was suddenly out of action, I wondered how we would cope.

It is easy to forget how fortunate we all are to have the equipment we do, no matter how simple it may seem.

I’m sure my granddad would have loved the luxury of our loader tractor back when he was lugging hundredweight bags around and fashioning a fresh hessian-sack jumper.

I guess I learned two lessons from our misfortunes that day. First, if you’re lucky enough to still have your grandparents around, listen to their tales of a bygone era while they are here to tell them.

Second, as my granddad used to say, a second-class ride is better than a first-class walk.