If I hadn't been a farmer....

Kelley wanted to know if I hadn't been a farmer, what I would have wanted to do. Being a farmer was almost a foregone conclusion - you know the old adage, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree!" (also ironic, as I farmed apples for years!)

That's a million dollar question....

I did think once or twice about becoming a priest, however that was ruled out because I had already sinned too much. I didn't realized that I could be absolved - they were just penny anti-sins. However, that idea was discarded.

Since I loved music, and had taken all of the music courses in high school, I considered becoming a music teacher. I felt adequate - although I wasn't a whiz at reading music (I read it like a 3 year old would read an encyclopedia!), the one thing going for me was that when I learned a piece of music, it was retained - and I had inherited a knack for making harmony. It was quite easy to make music on any instrument, but only ordinary music. In another story I'll tell about playing with the Tri Cities Symphony.

When I was enlisted in the army, my MO showed that I had a music education from high school. They needed a bunch of guys from which to make buglers. That bunch included musicians from big bands and other musical fields. This was the best part of the army. That experience helped tilt me towards a music teaching career when I got out. I didn't know about any possibilities of a GI bill, though, and that would have changed things had I known.

After the army, I was given the opportunity of going to college on the GI bill. I was reluctant, thinking "Hell, I'll be 30 when I get out and then what?" There was no guarantee for a job. So I turned down that offer. It did end up helping me later on when I took a college course in agriculture, which I did two evenings a week. There is a lot to know about soils and chemicals. The stipend I received was $90 a month - try living on that now!

Another opportunity I turned down was to be a banker. The manager, Jake Bizyak, said to me one day when I was at his desk, "Norm, why don't you get behind one of these teller cages and work for me? I like the way you handle your money." Those were his exact words. At that time I had already become involved with Donald and John and my Dad, helping them farm, which I did for no pay. That lasted for about 2 years and I was quite lonely - looking for love. I didn't think anyone would have me, and I'm lucky that I waited.

If I had gone to college, I would likely have been a music teacher. Many of my friends who went to serve ended up becoming principals and superintendents or teachers. They were also given the privilege of retirement counting their days of service, so some were retired while still in their late 50's. I didn't have that privilege as a farmer.

I also turned down an opportunity from my brother-in-law (Ella's husband), who got me an on the job training position with King Electric in Ellensburg. They offered to let me board with them until I established myself. On the last day to take the opportunity, I declined and stayed home. Somehow, something was guiding me. The work on Ma and Daddy's little place was worrying me, and I became a helper to John and Donald.

I bought a truck for Donald and Daddy with the money I had saved while I was in the army. The price of potatoes ended up going to pot and I still wanted to go to Hollywood where an army friend beckoned me. I had $600 left, which was spent on a potato sorter for Donald. We sorted his potatoes and I hauled the load over Seattle's produce row, passing the middle men. Donald was quite astute in handling his financial affairs. I got to keep the money for hauling and I saved back enough to buy the car I ordered when I got out. It took two years to get it. That gave me freedom to explore. Until then, I bummed around with the Graves boys in their car. (That's another story)

Daddy was worried about going into debt and dropped out. Donald needed a partner, and I borrowed $3500 and we rented the Indian John Hill property. We were planting spuds when a railroad agent came to tell us, "Boys, you may as well stop planting. We're buying the land. There'll be no more irrigation on this hill." (The irrigation had caused the massive slide which dammed the river and wiped out two rail road tracks.) Under the eminent domain laws, the railroad can do that. We were stunned by his remarks. I was a hot head and I had words with him which only harmed the situation. Now it took legal action to get compensation for our prospect of making a good year of potato prices.

I gathered a lot of testimonials from other farmers to present in court if the time came to go before a judge. We met with the railroad agent several times to try and avoid court action, and made a reasonable demand of a prospective income. We wanted the costs of the seed and fertilizer and the rent, plus the possible income. Finally, after many tense meetings, the railroad agreed to settle paying us all of our expenses and a reasonable income and also gave us the option to farm the land, so long as it was dry land. The potatoes didn't thrive, but they did produce a nice small potato which we stored and sold a bag at a time.

I then had the rest of the summer off to use my new car and pretty soon it was the "Kissing Tree" incident. I had money to invest and to court Mickey.