It’s a sad day when old buildings fall. There is so much history in them… so many stories. With this particular barn, I have two stories to share.
The first is one that I’ve shared before. You see, this barn is on our land… and I’ve driven, walked, biked and ridden past it numerous times in my life. In fact, my very first memory took place in that barn. Read it here and see a photo of the barn when it was still standing..
The second is a memory that my Dad shared with me on the same weekend that I took these photos. In 1959, before mom and dad got married, my dad traded some oats that had been stored in the barn due to low grain prices the year before. He was able to trade it for 50 cents a bushel, and then convinced his pa to trade in his old car so that with the income from the grain and old car, Dad would be able to buy a 1959 Chevy (that looked something like this) for Mom and him to take on their honeymoon. It was the last time that grain was stored in that barn.
Mom and dad drove over 6,000 miles in that car and paid $125 in gas for the entire trip. It was the first time that they ever saw mountains, and they were so excited that they were taking pictures of them from a 100 miles away, when they could see them on the far edges of the horizon. They went to Calgary to see the stampede, to Banff, Jasper, Vancouver, Victoria, took the ferry to Seattle and then visited Yellowstone National Park. On their last day, they had to drive 700 miles, because they were flat broke, and didn’t even have $5 to put towards a hotel for the night.
Yes, what a series of memories…
Here are some more photos of the barn… if you like what you see and want to purchase a fine art print, I’ve also posted a few of them on my Crated portfolio.
