My Misadventure Playing In My Grandfather's Barn

 This is something that happened in 1957.

    The first day of school of my sixth grade year was only a half day.  Since we had the afternoon off, my best friend Neal and I were eager to make the most of this last breath of summer vacation so we  were running, chasing, and combating with each other in my grandfather’s barn.  It was a magnificent place, large and cavernous, but full of nooks and crannies for forts and our secret hideouts.

    Sliding open the large central barn door, we entered a dark cathedral-like area, accented with narrow shafts of sunlight slicing down from cracks in the siding.  (Photo below) 

            For the most part, the ground level floor was full of old farm equipment, except for the far end where there stood a mountain made of bales of straw.

    Once through the big sliding door, to the left a steep narrow stairway led down to the cobwebby unused stables in the basement.  It was empty except for the old manure-spreader, a hay rake, and the ancient old hand-cranked International tractor. 

    Just inside the barn door we could see the second level floors running along both sides of the barn’s interior.  To get up there, one could dash through the small doorway on the right, through the old workshop, then scramble up the twisty steps to a small upper room which was stacked high with old furniture.   (Photo at the very bottom of the page)

    From there, you had several choices:  You could shinny down the ropes back to the ground floor or you could scamper along the second floor open storage area, then jump across and down, to the bales of straw.  If you were brave, you had yet another choice, you could climb up to a third floor platform that spanned high across the ground level to the other side of the barn, skirting along  the un-railed ledge, then climb down to the second level platform that ran along the left side of the barn.

    This second floor area on the left side of the barn, was full of stacked bushel baskets and tomato boxes.  It was where we had hollowed out one of our hideouts.  This second floor on the left, could also be accessed from the ground floor by way of a fixed wooded ladder that ran up the wall.

    The barn which was full of excitement and possibilities, but for a 10 year old, it was also frocked with potential danger.  Jumping down to the bales of straw below, gingerly walking across the hand-hewn wooden beams above the plough and planter, or running along the naked edge of the second or third floor platforms, all had deadly possibilities, but through my eyes at the time, the barn was just a wonderful backdrop for adventure.

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