Give thanks for fall and friends ~ November 22, 1990

David Heiller

There’s a feeling that comes about this time of year when fall settles in and winter is just a week or two away. It’s a feeling that tells people to check their wood supply and tighten up their leaky farmhouses.

Grass dries up in the field and leaves crumble underfoot. It’s time to pick up the plastic buckets in the sandbox, and carry them to the shed, along with the Tonka dump trucks and bulldozers.

The dogs stay in all night, and would stay in all day too if you didn’t have the common sense to boot them out during the day where they belong.

Dogs outside, but not at night in the winter.

The cat catches mice every other day, proudly leaving them on the floor, where the wife, if she’s lucky, gingerly walks around them and calls for the husband to throw them outside. If she’s not lucky, you hear the blood-curdling scream that only a woman stepping barefoot on a dead mouse can evoke.

You work all through the weekend during the day, but the day ends dark and early, and you end up in the house by 5 p.m., just in time to watch the last 15 minutes of the Viking-Seahawks game, which the Vikings miraculously win.

It’s a nice time of year, and you feel lucky to be a part of it.

If you’re real lucky, you know a couple old-timers like John Fίltz or Palmer Dahl, and you get to know them better this time of year.

Palmer lives just south of Moose Lake, but he farmed for many years in Birch Creek Township, and there’s a lot of farmer left in him. He’s a quiet man, a bit shy, but thoughtful and generous and sharp.

He’s sharp in more ways than one. Palmer sharpens saws on the side for a little extra money. Very little, because he sure doesn’t charge much for his work.

I had my cordwood circle saw out two weeks ago, and noticed that the 20-inch blade labored through the wood. So I brought it in to Palmer, and he touched it up so well, it sparkled with a sharpness that made me nervous just picking it up, and only charged me $4 for a job that must have taken two hours.

Sometimes Ι give him odd jobs. Α couple months ago, it was a screwdriver with a chipped end. He ground it back into shape, as good as new, and didn’t charge me a penny. I knew he wouldn’t. He says he likes to see things put to good use, so won’t charge for them.

John Filtz is that way too, although he’s more worldly from his days of working railroad. He sharpens saws too, and makes firewood for himself and others at a pace, makes you think he isn’t 73 years old.

I bought a cord of wood from him one day. He said the price was $45 on the spot, $10 more delivered. Not bad for seasoned oak and maple, cut and split.

I explained that I’d have to borrow a truck, to come get it, so he allowed as Ι could use his tractor and wagon. Then when I went to pick it up, he allowed as he had time to drive the tractor. And of course he helped me load it and unload it, and didn’t charge extra, like I knew he wouldn’t.

When I asked if I could use his wood splitter he said sure, and seeing I didn’t have a hitch on my car, he let me borrow his new Chevy pick-up to bring the splitter to my house; then he spent an hour helping me split and came back and picked up the splitter on Sunday.

John Filtz and Palmer Dahl are what you call good neighbors. Fair, honest, hard-working. People you can trust. You can learn a few lessons in good neighborliness from them too.

I have a feeling the country was filled with John Filtzes and Palmer Dahls when they were in their prime 50 years ago. You still can find a few today if you’re lucky.

That’s why I feel pretty lucky this time year, when fall settles in and winter is ready to follow any day.