Recollections of Grandpa Gates and His Horses

                Roger Noble, a neighbor of Grandpa and Grandma Gates, and Ron Bledsoe, my grandparents' oldest grandson, have made several positive comments over the last couple of years after reading my blog posts. The recollections they shared provided the inspiration for this week’s posting.

           Roger recalled, as a kid, being fascinated with the sight of Grandpa’s workhorses in their stalls. As he rode by Grandpa’s barn, there stood those massive horses. Roger grew up in the Big Bend on his parents’ farm. Their land was located a few miles west of my grandparents’ farm.

  A farmer during the early twentieth century relied heavily on dependable, intelligent horses for transportation, working their farm ground, and providing “horsepower” for tasks on the farm requiring enormous strength. Grandpa had the best he could afford. Work days using the team of horses were long and difficult but provided an adequate living for Grandpa, as well as his large family. My grandparents, just like their horses, were able-bodied, strong-willed, and faced each day with strength and determination.

Grandpa Edmund Gates, Sr. with one of his best teams of workhorses,
Mag and Morgan.

           Ron Bledsoe, my grandparents’oldest grandchild, retold this family story after reading one of my blog posts. Grandpa’s injury occurred about 90 years ago. 

           When Ron read the blog post entitled "No Helicopter Parenting Here" published on February 8, 2015, it brought to mind a story his mother, Ella Gates Bledsoe, had told about Grandpa Gates. Grandpa was trying to get weeds out of a sprocket on a chain-driven piece of machinery. Ron thought it was some sort of binding machine. The horses moved, and before Grandpa could react, the tips of two of his fingers were cut off. In typical “Gates fashion,” he walked to town to get them "sewed up". 
          Ron told his youngest daughter this story. She just looked at him. Children today cannot begin to comprehend the toughness of that generation. Ron stated, "I like to think all of us got some of that Gates toughness to help us deal with today's challenges."
         Ron's mom, my father's oldest sister, related the story of Grandpa's injury. What a frightening time for a little girl to see such a serious injury to her father! Then what a worry to see the man she dearly loved and depended upon the most in all the world begin the long trek to take himself into town to the doctor. How challenging it must have been for little Ella to put out of her thoughts the terrifying wound. The account of this injury impacted Ron since he vividly recalled seeing how Grandpa had the tips gone on two fingers. 
            In Grandpa’s latter years, he told my dad, Edmund Gates, Jr., that he’d like to have a team of mules. My grandmother was appalled that he would even entertain that idea, since she obviously did not recall with such fondness the "good ole days" of working from daybreak to dark. 

            New ways are hard to embrace. Grandpa wanted to keep the tried and true methods. What comfort in the familiar! Horses ensured a slower life, but limited farm production.  However, my father often said, "You've got to get up with the times." He recognized that the inability to embrace progressive methods would impede growth and success.  I recognize that also, but there are days when I can't help but be nostalgic for the lifestyle of yesteryear-yearning for a simpler, slower pace.