Page 58 - Humanism 2019

SHORT STORY

A Farm Filled With Memories

By Katelyn Reist, Veterinary Medicine student

hen I walked in the cellar, it was warm from the
Wfire in the cast iron stove. I was helping my son
strip tobacca in the cellar of the ol’ tobacca shed I built a
long time ago. My son wanted to put down and strip at
least an acre or two t’day. Three of us were helpin’. The
German hired hand, my son, and my grandson, Arthur.

“Granddad?” my grandson, Arthur questioned, “Did you
help with the tobacca when you were growin’ up?”

“Yes, son. I did. I’ve been a helpin’ since I was a young
one. Put many a’ acres down.” I stated. “What was your
life like, Granddad? When you were growin’ up.”

“Well, that is a long story. A story that would take a long
time to tell.”

“Granddad, we have all day in the cellar to tell the story.”
“Guess I will then, son.”

As I started my story, Arthur and the hired hand were
listening intently as they stripped the leaves off the
tobacca stalks. This is my great-great-grandfather, Linnaeus R. Reist with his wife,
Susan Ann, and children: John, Linnaeus L., my great grandfather, and
“Looking back now, there are many memories. Memories
Anna. Linnaeus R. Reist was the one who built the house and barn.
good and bad. First, let me go back to when I was a little Linnaeus L. was his son and is my grandfather’s father. He lived in the
boy. A little boy about your age. When I was a small red brick house and raised his children: Frances, Susan, Linnaeus,
child, something terrible happened. My Pa was workin’ Luella, Arthur, my Grandfather, and Roger.
with the ol’ German hired hand out in the orchard. Pa
was fond of fruit trees, mainly apple trees. When he
wasn’t workin’ he was studyin’ horticulture and botany.
My Pa was a very smart fella, he grafted an apple tree and
created a new generation of apples. One day Pa was
trimmin’ the limbs of the apple tree. Johnny, the ol’
German hired hand and tenant farmer, was helpin’ him.
Johnny was a great fella, but knew no English and never
went to school. Pa was usin’ his shiny Brady axe to split
some of the wood. Pa held the log tightly in his left hand
and brought the axe down firmly with the other. As he
was holding the log, the axe slipped and came down on
his hand. As a young one, I remember that day very well.
His yell echoed throughout the orchard. It made a great
gash in his hand and was bleeding like a river. At first, Pa
didn’t want to go to the doctor. You see, we were very
poor and had no money. So, Ma just wrapped his hand in
This is the red brick house that my great-great-grandfather built in 1875
some cloth and tried to bandage it up. After a week, Pa’s
(and that I live in now). The right section was built first and the
hand was as big as a brick and was turning the color of Victorian section (on the left) was built afterward. On the smaller half
mulberries. Ma kept telling Pa to see the doctor, but Pa there is a bell, and on the Victorian section there is a widow’s walk.
was a stubborn man. He kept sayin’, “Naw. It will heal.

55 HUMANISM IN THE HEALTH SCIENCES 2019 • VOL. 22