As I look at the monumental pile of 3’x5’ iron scrap accumulating in the bed of my pickup, it’s hard to believe that I’m looking at what used to be an HD15 Allis Chalmers crawler tractor. For the last two weeks, I’ve watched my son toil over the metal, torching parts that haven’t run for several years into something that I can hardly recognize. It was big, old, and heavy—and with the price of scrap iron up so high, I knew it was time to give in and send this iron off to the scrap dealer. The extra cash will help him with the cost of tuition next year.
As I contemplate the pile, I realize that our scrap of today was someone’s new tractor in the early 1950’s. These torched fragments were that farmer’s pride and joy. He had the same feelings I have with my new tractor of today. It was brand new; the paint was a bright shade of pumpkin orange, and the seat’s cushion was bouncy, its vinyl unscathed…and who needed air conditioning anyway? The original owner had to believe that this tractor – this new piece of promise for better, more productive hours spent in his fields – was so much better than his old tractor.
In some ways, it hurts. It hurts to cut up a potentially useful piece of machinery that I’m so sure could have run again if I could just find the parts. It hurts to know that all this iron will be sent overseas to another country so they can melt it down and make what they will need for their farms and factories of tomorrow. It hurts to remember that in the 1950’s, we melted iron like this down to create this old tractor and the cars that my parents drove. What is happening to our country?
I can’t help but wonder if someday someone else will cut up my new tractor. Will they wonder if I had as much pride in my new tractor as they do in their own new tractor? Is the cycle of tractors somewhat like the cycle of life?