{"id":20691,"date":"2022-03-24T13:57:52","date_gmt":"2022-03-24T17:57:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=20691"},"modified":"2022-03-24T14:07:05","modified_gmt":"2022-03-24T18:07:05","slug":"episode-556-the-skeoch-farm-auction-fergus-farm-of-norman-skeoch","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=20691","title":{"rendered":"EPISODE 556 THE SKEOCH FARM AUCTION…FERGUS FARM OF NORMAN SKEOCH"},"content":{"rendered":"
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EPISODE 556   THE SKEOCH FARM AUCTION\u2026FERGUS \u201cHOME\u201d FARM OF NORMAN SKEOCH\u2026a few memories
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alan skeoch<\/p><\/div>\n

March 23, 2022<\/div>\n
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NORMAN SKEOCH,  youngest of the James Skeoch family , owner of the Home Farm, Nichol<\/div>\n
Township, Wellington County, Ontario, Canada  (circa 1950)<\/div>\n

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Selling the home farm of our branch of the Skeoch family was an unpleasant task.  And the first part<\/div>\n
of that task was the auction sale of Uncle Norman\u2019s farm equipment.  Each piece of equipment had<\/div>\n
a personal history.  Particularly the Massey Harris combine harvester (circa 1950).  To get a crowd we<\/div>\n
published a giant poster which was plastered to fence posts and telephone poles and store windows <\/div>\n
in the vicinity of the Fergus farm (Wellington County).  Somehow my aunt Elizabeth got wind of the poster<\/div>\n
plan and insisted the 1920 family picture be deleted.   Too bad really as I had hoped the poster would<\/div>\n
be a family heirloom some day.   
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NORMAN SKEOCH, circa 1975, repairing combine with a hammer.<\/div>\n

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    MEMORIES OF THE HOME FARM MASSEY HARRIS COMBINE HARVESTER

    DATELINE 1975
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\u201cALAN, how would you like to take the Ford tractor and the side delivery rake\u2026turn over the hay in the south field.\u201d
\u201cLove to\u2026\u201d
\u201cHay got a little damp in the rain\u2026too wet to bail.\u201d

That must have been in the MID 1970\u2019s.  Uncle Norman (Skeoch) was running the Skeoch farm alone by then.  Uncle Archie had
died in the west.  Choked to death.  Which left Norman alone on the Fergus farm.  It was mid summer, beautiful day, smell of growth in
the air coupled with the perfume of new mown hay.  A gaggle of guinea hens ran here and there yapping to beat the band.

Uncle Norman surprised me that  day.  That was the first and only time he ever entrusted me with a farming operation.  Hell, I didn\u2019t
even know how to start the tractor let alone guide the side delivery rake accurately down the windrowed timothy.   

\u201cNo problem, just
push the starter and put her in gear.  Do it now.  I\u2019ve got to work on the combine.\u201d

The combine?  Archie and Norman had pooled their resources back in the early 1950\u2019s to buy what was then a brand new Massey Harris combine harvester.
By the late 1970\u2019s it was no longer new.  The red paint of its halcyon days had faded to a rusty red hue.   The great hulking machine had lost its
novelty.  New combines had replaced this one.  Huge, self-propelled machines that could consume wheat, oats or barley fields as if they were morning
porridge in a lumber camp.

\u201cNeeds some repairs.\u201d

Seemed odd to me that Uncle Norman was going to repair the machine with a big ball pain hammer.  But what did  I know?
So he began hammering as I drove down past the barn to the south field. Elated to be trusted.  Determined to ruffle up the wet hay as perfectly as
possible.  What a grand afternoon?  What a great job?  Could I do the turning twice just for the hell of it?  Best not.  So I returned to
the barn where Uncle Norman was pounding the Massey Harris combine as if it was some enemy in mortal combat.

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\u201cJob\u2019s done, Uncle Norman.\u201d , I was proud of myself\u2026turned over a field of wet hay successfully,
\u201cHarrumph1\u201d  
\u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d  Norman seemed distracted\u2026but still had his good humour.
\u201cPicked up a son of a bitching rock \u2026 bent the goddamn master cylinder.\u201d
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         Amazing how the Skeoch brothers could make cursing seems like fine English.
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\u201cCan it be fixed?\u201d
\u201cNot today and not with this goddamn hammer.\u201d
\u201cRock?\u201d
\u201cYep, still in  there\u2026\u201d
\u201cCan it be fixed?\u201d
\u201cNope\u2026dead\u2026dead as that guinea hen I hit with the mower\u2026damn,damn, damn!\u201d

So, while i was enjoying myself, Uncle Norman was trying in vain to attempt to harvest the oats whose golden tassels were waving in the summer breeze.

\u201cWhat will you do?\u201d
\u201cHave to get a custom machine in to harvest the oat field.  Have to pay for that.  Farming can be a losing proposition.\u201d

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        DATELINE  1977<\/p><\/div>\n


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That comment made me think of another visit to the Skeoch farm.  Uncle Norman was in the stable and a big five ton truck
had backed up close to the stable door.  A boarding ramp had been lowered.  Painted on the side of the truck were
the words  \u201cdead and disabled animals,  call \u2026.\u201d

\u201cWhat\u2019s up Uncle Norman?\u201d
\u201cHad to call the dead wagon\u2026heifer in the barn got the bloat\u2026blew up like a goddamn dirigible\u2026dead…alfalfa, I think.\u201d
\u201cBloat?\u201d
\u201cHappens once in a while with cattle.  if I had seen her I could have driven-in the bloat knife right into her gut and let the gas out of her.  Happened so goddamn fast
that I couldn\u2019t reach her in time.  Now she\u2019s wedged in the barn, blown up\u2026take a look if you want….\u201d

And there she was, Dead as a doornail, lying on her side at the stable door.  Huge.  Seemed too big for the doorway. Wondered if she
could be deflated somehow but Uncle Norman and the dead wagon man hooked her up with a cable around her back hooves and hauled her
through the door and up into the back of the truck.

\u201cWhat happens  to her now?\u201d
\u201cDepends  how long she\u2019s been dead,\u201d said the dead wagon man.  Which  was not really a straight answer.
\u201cDead  loss to me, for sure,\u201d responded Uncle Norman.

Farming is a chancy kind of business.  Lots of things can and do go wrong. Often.  I was a teacher\u2026i.e. on salary… and it never occurred to me
that Uncle Norman\u2019s income from farming must have been a pittance.  So small that the loss of a heifer and the loss of the Massey Harris
combine might have pushed him over the edge into near bankruptcy.    His expenses  were small.  For most of his life he was a bachelor
Never travelled much.  Couldn\u2019t really because his truck was so badly battered that it raised  eyebrows on the road.  That condition coupled
with the fact he had four or five dogs as passengers, their heads jockeying to get in the open air from the passenger window.  There was no back window
making the truck rather chilly on winter days.  The dogs had torn up the bench seat so badly that there was more stuffing than leather.  Looked like a
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        nest.  But he only needed to drive it into Fergus for a few sacks of grain \u2018chop\u2019 for the cattle.  And maybe a stopover at the Fergus Legion for<\/p><\/div>\n

        draught of beer.

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THE ORCHARD\u2026A HIDDEN ARCHEOLOGICAL SITE<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n


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Up in the orchard archaeologists had identified the fragmentary evidence that ancient people\u2026perhaps Neutral aboriginals\u2026had once lived and laboured
on Skeoch land.  NO. Reverse that comment.  The Skeoch\u2019s laboured on what was once aboriginal ground. <\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n


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 But that was supposed to be a secret lest souvenir hunters destroy any remaining evidence.
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MANGER \u2026 HIDEOUT FOR A CASE OF BEER. MOLSON\u2019S GOLDEN, 1979
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       \u201cWould you drink a bottle of beer, buckshot?\u201d<\/p><\/div>\n

      \u201cI would, yes.\u201d<\/div>\n

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      And Uncle Norman opened the stable door, slid by a wheelbarrow and rummaged under the hay in the first manger.  Presto.  Two bottle of beer.
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That was the last time I remember seeing him alive.  He died in 1979 and when his Safety Box was opened  and the will read I got a big surprise.  My cousin John Skeoch\u2026.\u2019long’ John Skeoch\u2026and I
were named as executors in the will \u2026 not as recipients but executors.  We had to carry out Norman\u2019s wishes.  He left the farm to his  brothers and sisters and their families.  Holy Smoke!
That meant one unpleasant task was placed in our hands.  We had to sell the farm.  How else could the farm and its contents be divided? It had to be converted to cash and then divided
equally as possible to the families of Lena,  Elizabeth, Greta, Archie, Arnold, Arthur and John.  And, in the cases where some had pre deceased Norman then that share had to be further
subdivided.   This was going to be messy.  

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        THE MASSEY HARRIS COMBINE <\/p><\/div>\n


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Today,  one memory of that \u2018executing the will\u2019 ordeal stands out in my mind.   That Massey-Harris combine harvester.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n

    Who owned it?  Was it Uncle Norman\u2019s?  Or Uncle Archie\u2019s?  Well, it belonged to both of them.  So in order to avoid family squabbles we decided that whatever we got from the machine<\/p><\/div>\n

    at the auction then that amount would not be divided up but go directly to Uncle Archie’s surviving family members.  Seemed wise at the time.  But wasn\u2019t.  <\/div>\n

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       Auctioneer Max Storey took charge.   Everything was up for auction which meant bidding competitions that usually arrived at a fair value.  What is the fair value of a Massey Harris combine<\/div>\n
      bought in 1950 and sold in 1979 with a rock imbedded in the master cylinder?<\/div>\n

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\u201cNext is this Massey Harris combine harvester.  Not running right now<\/div>\n
so you are buying it as is.   Open bid?\u201d<\/div>\n

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Silence. No bidding. Eventually the scrap man bid around $40 for the machine\u2026might be worth $100 in the scrap yard but it would cost quite a bit to get it there.<\/div>\n
The $40 satisfied no one.  We would have been wiser to have avoided trying to be nice guys.  Got us only anger. Being executors in a will where there are many<\/div>\n
people to satisfy is not easy.  And sometimes things being sold have higher emotional value than market value.   <\/div>\n

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    THE CAST IRON PIG SCAULDING POT<\/p><\/div>\n


    Then there was the question of the huge cast iron pot used for pig slaughtering and\/or maple syrup.  Uncle Norman had given me the pot a few years earlier.
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To avoid dispute I did what I thought was an honourable thing.  <\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n
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To avoid trouble I returned it to the farm auction and was resolved to buy it back at whatever<\/div>\n
price.  Bidding was spirited  I won.  That honourable effort got me no praise.  Instead a member of the Fergus Legion got really angry with me.<\/div>\n

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\u201cNorman brings this cauldron to our corn roasts every year\u2026has done so for decades.  It\u2019s ours\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cThen why not bid for it?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cWho do you think was bidding against you.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cWhy stop?”<\/div>\n
\u201cPrice went too high.  But that is our pot\u2026need it for the corn roast.\u201d<\/div>\n

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I said nothing but just loaded it into our truck.  Seemed being honourable was not a good idea.<\/div>\n
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THE REAPER WAS NEVER FOUND<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n


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Somewhere buried in a fence row must be the ruins of the Skeoch Reaper, made famous<\/p><\/div>\n

when the Fergus newspaper in 1932 featured a picture of Grandfather James Skeoch reaping<\/div>\n
his grain field with the Skeoch family reaper which, in 1932, was long past its glory days.
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The Skeoch farm, our \u2018home \u201c farm in Nichol Township, Wellington County, dated back<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n

to 1846 give or take a year or so.  The stone house was built around the turn of the<\/p><\/div>\n

20th century using field stones from the fenceroaw   The barn built earlier using beams<\/div>\n
harvested from the once majestic stands of white pine.  <\/div>\n

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Above is a picture of James Skeoch, my grandfather, using an ancient reaping<\/div>\n
machine to cut grain using the power of two horses.    I never knew him.   <\/div>\n

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Most of my memories of the home farm are centred around Uncle Norman.<\/div>\n
My cousin John Skeoch and I did the best we could to follow the instructions<\/div>\n
in Uncle Norman\u2019s will.   In the end there were so many people getting shares<\/div>\n
tha the individual amounts were small   Might have been better if Norman had<\/div>\n
willed the farm to one person.  Then it would still be our \u2018home\u2019 farm unless<\/div>\n
the town of Fergus grew larger.<\/div>\n

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Somewhere I have pictures of the auction day.  The pictures are not stunning<\/div>\n
because the auction day was cold and dark\u2026a November day.    Perhaps coming<\/div>\n
in next Episode\u2026or later.<\/div>\n

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Left to right\u2026.Norman Skeoch, Archie Skeoch, Arthur Skeoch, Arnold (Red) Skeoch<\/div>\n
Front row\u2026Elsie (Freeman ) Skeoch, wife of Arnold, <\/div>\n

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alan skeoch<\/div>\n
March 24, 2022<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

EPISODE 556   THE SKEOCH FARM AUCTION\u2026FERGUS \u201cHOME\u201d FARM OF NORMAN SKEOCH\u2026a few memories alan skeoch March 23, 2022      NORMAN SKEOCH,  youngest of the James Skeoch family , owner of the Home Farm, Nichol Township, Wellington County, Ontario, Canada  (circa 1950) Selling the home farm of our branch of the Skeoch family was […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20691","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20691","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=20691"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20691\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=20691"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=20691"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=20691"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}