Wheat People

Nature

Storm clouds build over the Busse family fields southeast of Colby, 1998.

"Hail and wheat harvest [go] together like a glove on a hand."
--Paul Conrardy, Kingman, 1998.

Nature is a constant source of tension for farmers. Some of Kansas's most dangerous weather strikes in June and July when harvest is in full swing.

Every farmer has stories about being hauled out or burned up. The memories are painful, but farmers remain optimistic that "there's always next year."

"If you get hail, you could lose a year's income." Enola Dreier, Hesston, 1998
	"It was in the early 50s . . . we chopped wheat for 20-25 days with two old combines. . . . Oh, it was hot that day at noon, and Colby had just put in a new swimming pool down there, and anyway I told my dad, 'Let's just go down and go swimming.' We only had like 40 acres left. We could've got it cut that afternoon. . . . So we went to Colby and went swimming all afternoon, and we was coming back home and man, there was a big old black cloud out in the west, and it just came in and mowed that wheat. You know, it never even bothered my dad. He just went out and gathered up the ice and made ice cream." --Jesse Craft, Brewster, 1998.
Above: Hail devastated wheat fields north of Boyd in June, 1998, knocking grain to the ground where combines could not pick it up.
"My parents would be so upset, and I wasn't old enough to know. Now I understand how they felt. If you get hail, you could lose a year's income." Enola Dreier, Hesston, 1998.
	Above: Ted Thummel of Esbon takes a wry approach to harvest weather, 1998. The sign on his combine reads, "We brake for rainstorms."

	"The memory of the season is one of vivid blues and golds: the blue of God's vast sky and the gold of His sun and bounteous wheat." James R. Dickenson, Home on the Range, 1995.
Working outdoors brings many pleasures during harvest. Wheat straw gives off a clean, hot smell as it bakes in the sun. Uncut fields resemble oceans as they ripple in the wind. Grain tastes warm and nutty when it's cracked between teeth. Just the sound of wheat pouring into bins can give a farmer a feeling of contentment that's almost physical.

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