Old barns have always fascinated me.
I don’t really know why. Perhaps it’s that they bring back a lot of memories of when I was a kid. Perhaps it’s the fact that the blood that runs through my veins is not urban. Perhaps, too, it is the way in which they were constructed, at a time when heavy equipment had not yet left the drafting boards of foresighted engineers.
Needless to say, I was rather happy when my son and his family decided to buy a farm up in the area of Markdale. On it is an old barn, of humongous dimension, constructed in the year 1902.
When my son and his wife researched the farm’s history they found, from the Markdale library, a picture of its framework being erected by quite a large gathering of Mennonite folks; two of them perched on the ridge pole 52 feet up from the main floor, which rests on a stone foundation that gives an eight foot clearance in the stable.
About two or three weeks before this past Christmas I was up for a visit. While we drove down the sideroad I noticed that a couple of sideboards had fallen from the east end of the barn, out of view from the house.
At the time I mentioned to my son that they should be nailed back up, as strong winds may do greater damage.
A few days before Christmas my phone rang. When I answered my son’s first words were, “You were right.”
Not often does a dad hear that from a son, so I perked my ears to listen. Then he went on to say that the gale force wind the previous night had ripped off the two large main doors, flinging one out into the paddock 60 or more feet away, and the other lay on the gangway.
Then, further, he mentioned several of the large main beams had been pulled out of the notches where original hardwood pegs had snapped.
It was evident that all of the south-east facing board siding had to be replaced as most of the well rusted, square headed nails were snapping under the stress. It was possibly their weakness that saved the barn from total damage, as the swirling strong winds had an escape route.
Several repair quotes were gathered over the next couple of weeks and as I expected, the one from the Mennonite community came in at the most reasonable price; less than half the price of local contractors.
Needless to say, it was fascinating to watch those people work.
Their ages I guesstimated were between late teen and 30, and I’m not quite sure that their diets are not made up of bananas and other tropical fruit, for they swarmed over that barn like a bunch of frolicking monkeys.
Never before have I seen so much done in such a short time.
The main structure was first pulled into shape, with chain and ratchet and fastened by lag bolted steel plates. At the same time the huge doors were being rebuilt and recovered. And the southeast sidewall was completely removed and reboarded.
The second day, in the stable overhead, several of the sleepers were pulled and replaced and were supported on two, 16-inch steel I-beams, 25 feet long, which were hoisted in through a removed stable window on the shoulders of only eight people. Those were lifted into place by chain and ratchet, and supported by new large posts.
As I watched them work on the stable structure, I was able to see that a lot of activity takes place there during the spring and early summer.
I could see, hidden here and there, attached to and on beams, the grass lined mud nest of a robin; the moss and hair structure of a phoebe’s nest; the half cup mud nests of a dozen barn swallows; and more than a dozen mud capped nests of the cliff swallows.
Three days after their arrival all damage was repaired and a couple of workers were coming back on the forth day to tidy up.
What a crew. What an experience. My only regret was the Little Lady was not beside me.
Cold though it was, she would have dressed warmly and enjoyed it greatly.
Take care, ‘cause we care.
barrie@barriehopkins.ca
519-843-4544