The cloudburst approaches

By Stanley Musielewicz of Little Falls

It was a beautiful, late spring day in early June. A few clouds drifted across sunny skies, and the temperature was comfortable. School was out, and my family was visiting my grandmother’s farm, which was farmed by my bachelor Uncle Joe.

My Cousin Danny was about three years older than myself, going into his senior year of high school. He was a city boy, but spent a few weeks every summer helping our uncle with the farming. Danny and I were getting a ride out to one of Uncle Joe’s fields to pick rocks with him.

Although picking rocks by hand is hard work, I chose to lend my uncle a hand that day rather than stay at the farmhouse, where my mother and sisters were cleaning house. I knew that he would appreciate my help, and reward me with a little cash at the end of the day.

Uncle Joe had a rock picker, which he pulled with his wide-front JD-50. However, it was not practical to pick all of the rocks with it. The rock picker was used mainly as a rock-carrier, while my uncle, cousin, and I, were the actual rock pickers. We walked along and pitched rocks into the trough of the rock picker. When the trough was full, the tractor hydraulics was used to easily dump its load onto one of the farm’s many rock piles. No double handling was needed.

Uncle Joe, Cousin Danny, and I plodded along in the soft dirt, and newly emerged corn plants, finding untold numbers of rocks. Even though the fields had been picked of rocks dozens of times over the decades, a new crop of rocks emerged every year.

In our diligence, we barely noticed the puffy, white cumulus cloud approaching us from the west. It eventually blocked the sun, causing us to pause, look up, and take note. Its dark underside meant that it could actually be a cumulus nimbus (rain) cloud. Nonetheless, we worked on, determined to rid the field of as many rocks as we could.

As the cloud went over us, a drop or two of rain fell nearby, but we continued to work. Then a few more drops of rain pattered around us, but we worked on undaunted. Then the cloud quit fooling around. It opened up, and let us have it.

We all know that type of sudden spring rain. The drops of rain were huge, hitting us with a splat. Each drop of rain soaked right into our clothing. In seconds, we were in a downpour. Danny looked at me, and I looked at him. We both had that look on our face, ‘what do we do now?’ We ran around in circles, trying to figure out what to do for shelter.

I looked toward the farm house, a quarter of a mile away to the south. Too late to make a run for it. There were a few trees on the field-edge about a quarter mile away to our north. Already too late for that partial protection as well.

Within a minute, my cousin and I were drenched. Water dripped off of our wet hair. Our shirts stuck to us. Water dripped off of our glasses, and we were soaked to the skin.

Then we looked around for our uncle. He was nowhere in sight. We looked again, wondering how he could have disappeared from us so fast.

We soon discovered that we were looking too far. He was right there, under our noses. That is to say, he was right there, under his tractor. He was on his knees, curled up under the engine part of that tractor, on the only dry spot of soil within a half mile. He looked out at my cousin and me with a big smile on his face, and he chuckled.

Within the next minute, just as quickly as it started, the rain ended. The dark cloud continued on its course, heading east. It was likely taking aim at some other unsuspecting rock pickers, or ball players, or picknickers. It may have even had its eye on a clothesline full of nearly dry laundry, ready to give it a second rinse. Or too, it may have had its eye on some distant parade.

When the last drops of rain had fallen, our kind-hearted Uncle Joe came out from the shelter of his JD-50, smiled, and laughed at Danny and me. He was all warm and dry, no worse for the ware.  And then, to Danny and my amazement, he resumed picking rocks.

“Why didn’t you tell us to get under the tractor to get out of the rain?” Danny asked.

“Are you kidding,” Uncle Joe laughed, “there’s not enough room for all three of us under there.”

Uncle Joe had a very good point there. That spot, under the engine of his tractor, was just about as wide as he was. It made a perfect little one-man shelter during a rain shower.

Our uncle had it figured out all along. He planned to stay warm and dry as he taught his hapless nephews a little lesson. He probably also knew that the lesson was only good for this one-time! The next sudden rain shower that he got caught in with either one of us, would mean he’d be forced to share his shelter!

So, then Danny asked the obvious, “Well, it rained. Are we going to quit for the day?”

Warm and dry Uncle Joe said, “No, I don’t let a little rain stop me.  If it rains for a half hour, I quit and go home.” He picked a couple of more rocks, then he added, “What’s the matter, haven’t you ever been wet before? Don’t you take a bath?”

I was sure that he was just kidding us, but very soon Danny and I realized he was serious. He kept picking rocks, and said, “You’ll dry off.” He really was serious! He was there to pick rocks, and that was all there was to it.

My cousin and I contemplated our options. We could form a ‘rock pickers union,’ go on strike, and walk off the job. But then I realized, I had no dry change of clothes at the farm. I was going to be wet until I dried off, or until I went home that evening. With that realization, I sucked it up, and resumed my chore for the day, picking rocks. Cousin Danny, followed suit.

The sun soon came out, providing some welcomed warmth, and clothes drying energy. And too, by working hard at our job, we really never felt cold. And Uncle Joe was right, we eventually did dry off.

I have often thought about how many times, during his decades of farming, that my Uncle Joe had taken shelter under his tractor. It was all in a day’s work to him. No sense in getting wet, or quitting early, just because of a little rain.

To this day, I can still see his big, round, smiling face as he looked out at Danny and me from the shelter of his tractor. I can still hear his laugh too. He probably laughed about it for years. Cheap entertainment.