The Freemans Journal - Cooperstowns Newspaper Since 1808: The Laurens Cattle Drive

The Freeman's Journal - Cooperstown's Newspaper Snce 1808

Sunday, January 4, 2009

MARY PANGBORN

GOOD HUMOR WAGON

When one hears of the term “cattle drive,” immediately association is made of hundreds of stock, several mounted cowboys on spirited horses, maybe a dog or two, and a journey to grazing grounds consisting of hundreds of acres.
Our cattle drive was a miniscule version of the above, to say the least. It consisted of 17 heifers, one automobile, one dog and four persons. But before we get into the semantics of the occasion, the why and wherefore of the situation is helpful.
A farmer living in the south end of Laurens had sold his dairy and was now employed in a position in the big city – Oneonta. While he had retained the land, it had not been worked for two years. Consequently, the meadows had grown large with hay and grasses.
In speaking with Dad on one occasion at the village barber shop, Mr. Comstock had mentioned the fact that his farm was being overgrown and wished someone could alleviate the problem by pasturing their stock in it for the summer.
Dad, always eager to take a hint, said that he would be delighted to pasture his heifers on it, as, with a growing dairy, grazing on our farm sometimes was a problem, especially in dry summers. So, the groundwork was laid.
On a dry, balmy day in late May, the drive was planned. The heifers were herded into the barn, and the procession began.
Dad went ahead in the auto, faithful Essie the Essex, followed by me with a tin pail of grain (a teaser), and then the stock, carefully shepherded by Mom and the hired man along the flanks. If we could have gone the way the crow flies, it would have been an easy move, but cows don’t fly, so we had to traverse the highways.
Most of the distance was on dirt roads, but the main trek to the summer pasture was Lake Road, the only macadam road at that time. To most of the stock, this was their first encounter with a paved highway, so we had to go a bit slower than normal.
Although the stock had no idea where they were going, they fell into line well, and the drive proceeded. The only hang-ups were the areas where there was a crossroad or a choice of go-aheads, but these were comparatively few.
When we arrived at the location, Dad left the car on the main highway and we proceeded by foot to the pasture area. Prior to the trip, the fences had been checked and the area scanned so there would be no danger of sharp objects or any debris which could be hazardous to the cattle.
All went well during the summer. Periodically, Dad mad a trip to the grounds to assure himself that all was well with his herd. A small barn on the grounds gave the heifers shade, shelter, and a reprieve from the winds which grazed the hills.
The summer went by rapidly, and soon it was September, and the time to bring home the cattle. Days were getting shorter and the nights cooler. Here again, on a balmy afternoon, plans were made to drive the herd home again.
Dad and the cow dog rounded up the members, while I stood at the gate and counted them. All were there, and, what’s this? An Ayrshire calf which was not ours. Who owned it, or how it got into this area, was beyond guessing. Dad canvassed the entire area, and could find no one who claimed the critter, so home it came with the rest of the stock. We named her “Orphan Annie,” and she became a permanent member of our stock.
For several years, this scenario out of the Wild West continued, until the farmer sold his farm and moved. The new owner planned on actively farming the territory, so we lost our grazing grounds.
One day, Dad met the new owner on the street, and inquired how things were going. He replied, “One thing I will not understand. Here the farm has not been worked for two or three years, and those meadows are as clear as if a mowing machine had been at work.” Dad smiled and said: “I think I have the answer to that. That machine was my 17 heifers which had been pastured there for the past few years.”

Mary Pangborn, raised in Laurens, has spent her adult years in Cooperstown.

Labels: 01-09-09, Glimmerglass, Good Humor Wagon, Mary Pangborn

posted by The Freeman's Journal @ 5:36 PM

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