Wood

Once upon a time, most rural Midwestern homes were heated with wood.  It was plentiful and readily available, a byproduct of clearing land for crop production and pastures.  The farmhouse where I grew up was no exception.  It had a large wood stove in the living room, augmented by a wood-fueled cooking stove in the kitchen.  The latter was replaced by an electric range in 1950*.

Trees were felled by axes and 2-man crosscut saws, then cut into manageable lengths that the horses, and later on, tractors, could drag to the log pile in the back yard.  Cutting wood was an annual event that required several strong men.  The guy that owned the saw rig - a 3' diameter circular saw mounted on a stand, belt-driven by a tractor PTO (power take off) - would make the rounds to area farms each autumn.

It took 2 long days to cut enough wood to get through the northern MN winter.  The men would squat down and lift the log, placing one end on the wooden apron in front of the saw blade. Then, one man would go around to the other side of the apron; his job was to catch the portion that was sawed off, and toss it onto the pile.  Dirty, noisy, back-breaking work it was; I didn't regret being too young to join the crew.

I didn't miss out on all the fun, though.  Hauling wood into the house every day was a task left to the younger kids.  And, when I got a little older, I inherited the job of splitting wood, too.  By that time we had acquired a chain saw, so I never joined the cutting crew.  What a bummer, huh?

Wouldn't you know it, my folks got an oil furnace right after I left home so I was the last in a long line of splitter-haulers.  As an adult, I actually enjoyed splitting wood - in moderate quantities, in moderate weather and at my convenience.  Good exercise and immediate job satisfaction.  All my Pacific NW homes had fireplaces or wood stoves.

*Well I remember the day the electric range was delivered.  I was 6 at the time, very curious and excited about this shiny new appliance.  The installer hooked it up, turned on a burner which quickly became red hot.  He turned it off, and it quickly became black again.  I was amazed: the thing got hot in seconds, didn't have to wait a half hour for the wood fire to heat the cooking surface.  I remember thinking it got hot in seconds so it must get cool in seconds, too.  I put my hand on the burner right after it turned black.  Ouch!  "Well, he had to learn sooner or later," said the installer to my mother.  Real sympathetic fella.