Future Farming the Flat Field
By Joyce Taylor -- 2003
As I drove past the newly installed sign announcing the Ranger Baptist Church Family Life Center, it seemed a bit unusual to see it there, even though work has steadily progressed toward the finished building over the past several months. The site on which the Family Life Center stands will always be preserved in my mind as the “Flat Field.” That’s how I've always known it. My family probably named it that. Farmers used to identify an area of the farm or distinguish one field from another by giving them names. Sometimes a field would be named for a person previously tending it, or by some other occurrence associated with it.
When I was growing up, and the Flat Field belonged to my Grandpa, Samuel S. Akin, it seemed an odd description to me to call the field flat. The field itself (the part that was tended, anyway), was anything but flat. In fact, it wrapped around the entire sloped hillside. In time, I realized that the terrain on top was naturally flat, having never been disturbed by any mechanical earth-moving means.
On the flat ridge top, a small stand of pine trees grew. Brambles and saw briers grew there, too -- in a network across the flat ground. A sled trail threaded its way the length of the ridge, terminating at a huge pile of boulders situated at the easternmost end. Walking this trail barefoot or in sandals, as I was accustomed to doing, my feet often found the briers that crisscrossed over the trail.
The Flat Field was a mainstay in our lives. The corn that was produced by it provided corn meal for our bread. Its yields sustained the farm animals that we kept and grew off and fattened the ones we killed for meat.
Keeping the Flat Field in a productive state commanded a considerable amount of time and attention. Springtime most certainly meant Grandpa would be hitching up his homemade wooden sled to Molly, his mare, and taking to the field to remove rocks that had surfaced during the winter and spring thaws. Soil preparation before planting time had to be done. Grandpa would turn the field -- breaking it up and working it with harrows. Amendments, mainly in the form of barn organics were spread to supplement the topsoil’s nutrients. Grandpa would lay off the rows for planting. So perfectly contoured were the rows from years of practice, I’m sure he could have done the work with his eyes closed. Finally, planting time would come. This task was done by hand. When the last seed was covered over with soil, Grandpa always did something I had not seen other farmers do. He’d remove his old gray, felt work hat, revealing strands of his dark hair in streams of sweat flowing down his face, and bowing to the ground, he would humbly place the success of the crop in God’s hands.
Once the corn plants emerged from the soil, weeds had to be disrupted often to keep the corn growing and constantly getting the supply of nutrients of the soil. Again, Grandpa would hitch up Molly to the sled and haul the plows to the field. He would leave home just after daybreak, while the air was still cool, in order to work as long as he could before the sun began to beat down.
It was my favorite, all-time chore to carry water to the field for Grandpa. Grandma would never let mid-morning pass, until she’d prepare ice water in a large glass jar, which I carried to him. Grandma would always direct me to the portion of the field where Grandpa would be working. Arriving at the field, I’d soon spot him and wait at the end of the row in the shade, keeping his drinking water as cool as I could until he finished plowing out the row.
The Flat Field was productive ground. Not only did it produce good corn, but one particular year, I remember Grandpa planted watermelons and cantaloupes in one portion of the field, near the top. God graciously answered Grandpa’s prayer. We had an abundance of wonderful melons that year.
Times change. After Grandpa passed on, the Flat Field was altered. Dozers worked to blend and soften the natural slopes to a more gradual grade. Grass was sown for the purpose of grazing horses and for hay production. It remained so until the property was acquired by the Ranger Baptist Church. Soon afterward, the land was altered again -- this time to provide a site for the Church’s new multipurpose building.
In present time, our Flat Field has evolved to serve as a field of a different purpose. Its mission goes beyond that of providing physical sustenance for one family. Rather, its new beginning holds promise of rendering spiritual sustenance to untold numbers of the community. Appropriately so, this new beginning and the dedication of the new building emerge at the time of Spring planting. As new ministries for the cause of Christ begin, the proper preparation, hard work, and prayer still apply. If future harvests are assured, they must be placed in God’s hands. May the Flat Field always remain productive ground.
When I was growing up, and the Flat Field belonged to my Grandpa, Samuel S. Akin, it seemed an odd description to me to call the field flat. The field itself (the part that was tended, anyway), was anything but flat. In fact, it wrapped around the entire sloped hillside. In time, I realized that the terrain on top was naturally flat, having never been disturbed by any mechanical earth-moving means.
On the flat ridge top, a small stand of pine trees grew. Brambles and saw briers grew there, too -- in a network across the flat ground. A sled trail threaded its way the length of the ridge, terminating at a huge pile of boulders situated at the easternmost end. Walking this trail barefoot or in sandals, as I was accustomed to doing, my feet often found the briers that crisscrossed over the trail.
The Flat Field was a mainstay in our lives. The corn that was produced by it provided corn meal for our bread. Its yields sustained the farm animals that we kept and grew off and fattened the ones we killed for meat.
Keeping the Flat Field in a productive state commanded a considerable amount of time and attention. Springtime most certainly meant Grandpa would be hitching up his homemade wooden sled to Molly, his mare, and taking to the field to remove rocks that had surfaced during the winter and spring thaws. Soil preparation before planting time had to be done. Grandpa would turn the field -- breaking it up and working it with harrows. Amendments, mainly in the form of barn organics were spread to supplement the topsoil’s nutrients. Grandpa would lay off the rows for planting. So perfectly contoured were the rows from years of practice, I’m sure he could have done the work with his eyes closed. Finally, planting time would come. This task was done by hand. When the last seed was covered over with soil, Grandpa always did something I had not seen other farmers do. He’d remove his old gray, felt work hat, revealing strands of his dark hair in streams of sweat flowing down his face, and bowing to the ground, he would humbly place the success of the crop in God’s hands.
Once the corn plants emerged from the soil, weeds had to be disrupted often to keep the corn growing and constantly getting the supply of nutrients of the soil. Again, Grandpa would hitch up Molly to the sled and haul the plows to the field. He would leave home just after daybreak, while the air was still cool, in order to work as long as he could before the sun began to beat down.
It was my favorite, all-time chore to carry water to the field for Grandpa. Grandma would never let mid-morning pass, until she’d prepare ice water in a large glass jar, which I carried to him. Grandma would always direct me to the portion of the field where Grandpa would be working. Arriving at the field, I’d soon spot him and wait at the end of the row in the shade, keeping his drinking water as cool as I could until he finished plowing out the row.
The Flat Field was productive ground. Not only did it produce good corn, but one particular year, I remember Grandpa planted watermelons and cantaloupes in one portion of the field, near the top. God graciously answered Grandpa’s prayer. We had an abundance of wonderful melons that year.
Times change. After Grandpa passed on, the Flat Field was altered. Dozers worked to blend and soften the natural slopes to a more gradual grade. Grass was sown for the purpose of grazing horses and for hay production. It remained so until the property was acquired by the Ranger Baptist Church. Soon afterward, the land was altered again -- this time to provide a site for the Church’s new multipurpose building.
In present time, our Flat Field has evolved to serve as a field of a different purpose. Its mission goes beyond that of providing physical sustenance for one family. Rather, its new beginning holds promise of rendering spiritual sustenance to untold numbers of the community. Appropriately so, this new beginning and the dedication of the new building emerge at the time of Spring planting. As new ministries for the cause of Christ begin, the proper preparation, hard work, and prayer still apply. If future harvests are assured, they must be placed in God’s hands. May the Flat Field always remain productive ground.
