Crib Notes

In the picture above, to the left of the barns, stands a structure with a rusty conical roof. This is a corn crib that has sat idle for decades. So long idle that a tree has grown up through its middle and limbs push through the grated sides. Corn cribs are granaries in which field corn is stored and dried. The corn, still on the cob, is loaded into the crib and is typically used for animal feed. Despite its age, the one in the picture is a fairly modern crib made from sections of grating bolted together to create a cylinder and capped with a metal roof.

The crib is now gone.

A similar lift truck was used to remove the corn crib

Returning home from University of Michigan homecoming activities, I noticed a trail of tire shreds beginning about a quarter mile north of my property and continuing into my driveway. Up at the crib, there was an extended boom lift truck thrashing about on three good tires with shreds whipping off the fourth as it gouged into my lawn. Three unrecognized vehicles were parked by the barn – one of which had a large flatbed trailer attached. Three unknown men stood watching the lift truck attempt to maneuver.

Moments like this call for high drama – I sped up my driveway, jumped out of my truck and challenged the (in retrospect, much bigger and stronger individuals who probably shouldn’t have been thus challenged) men with “who are you and what are you doing on my property?”

The clearly eldest of the men – clad in a Carhardt jacket and with a grizzled beard let me bark. He then calmly motioned toward the lift truck and said, “I think you know Artie over there, don’t you?”

Art is my neighbor and an incredibly hardworking, good guy. He’s Howard’s brother – I lease cropland to Howard.

Art jumped out of the lift truck and said, “didn’t Howard tell you we were picking up the corn crib today?” No.

Introductions were made and apologies offered in all directions. The corn crib had been sold to Garret, a young fellow who is starting a farm. Brad, his father (and the one who pointed out Art), was there overseeing the disassembly of the crib for transit.

When I closed on the property (I never like saying, “bought the farm”), Howard let me know that the corn crib had been placed there by his father and belonged to him and his brother. He offered to disassemble it at that time to take to his property. I told him it wasn’t in the way and it could stay.

Over the course of the next two hours, a replacement tire was secured for the lift truck and a compact Bobcat excavator served as a “jack” to replace the tire. Meanwhile, a chainsaw made quick work of the caged tree and the blown bits of tire were all collected for disposal.  With the lift truck re-abled, it was used to hoist the top section of the crib (about an eight-foot tall grate cylinder with the attached roof providing stability for the lift) onto the flatbed trailer. The lower section obviously didn’t have a roof to stabilize it and Brad argued that it couldn’t be hoisted by the lift truck without causing damage. I’m not an engineer, but I do believe he was right – it needed to be lifted and carried by hand.

Photo by Deb Butler Warren

By this time, I was garbed in my own Carhardt and work gloves. Five of us were able to lift this twelve foot diameter metal cage onto the flatbed. Given the size of these fellows, I don’t know if my presence made much of a difference, but they thanked me as though it did.

Now, the corn crib wasn’t a particularly attractive part of the landscape, but it was a monument to a time when the farm was alive with dairy cattle and pigs. I’ll get used to its absence, but, for now, the view down the driveway is a definitely altered.

Oh, this isn’t a loss. The old crib is now part of a new farm enterprise – a rare launch in 21st Century America. Good luck Garret!


Lift truck photo from:  http://www.ec21.com/product-details/Telescopic-Boom-Forklift-Truck--3331079.html