The video below is a little corny, but it evoked a memory of my Grandpa’s farm. He bought the farm after he lost his job in a coal mining accident in southern Illinois. Sometime in the 1920’s, my Dad help him build a barn. Dad used a post and beam frame hewn from logs cut on the property.
As a boy of ten I loved to explore the old building. It had a stall for the cow, and another for Gramp’s white horse Nellie. The animals were long gone, but the loft still had hay in it, and I often climbed up there looking for adventure.
In the seventies after my siblings and I were married, my brother got the idea the barn was no longer safe. It leaned to one side, the foundation logs were rotted away, and the wooden sides were weathered grey with a red patina. He organized a group of families from his church to help him take it down. That is when he learned how safe the barn remained. It took several men three days to strip the exterior, and to pull the frame over on its side. Even though the barn looked unsafe, it still had a sound structure.
Later I learned that my brother’s motive was to use the siding to panel his den. He did, and it turned out amazing. He gave me a memento of my past playground, a picture in a frame made from the barn wood. It hangs in a prominent place in my home, and always will until I die, and then it will pass to my oldest son