Because Alvin had been rotating wheat with building organic matter, keeping the soil healthy, his ground hadn’t been stressed by irrigation and then abandoned. It had been steady all along, and his well, that 42-t hole he dug by hand while everyone laughed, was still pumping. Let me tell you about the morning. Everything changed. August of 1987, the hottest summer in 15 years. No rain since June. The dry land crops were hurting. Alvin’s included. But at least they were alive.
The irrigated crops that still had water were surviving. The ones that didn’t were dead. At 6:00 in the morning, Alvin was at his well filling a stock tank for his cattle when he saw a pickup truck coming up his drive, then another one behind it, then a third. The first truck was Gene Willard, the man whose pivot had gone dry 3 years earlier. He drilled deeper twice, and the second hole had come up empty in June. The second truck was Dale Heinen.
His well had been producing 300 gall a minute in 75. It was producing 40 in 87. The third truck was Lyall Gunderson, the JD dealer, the man who’d called Alvin a museum piece in 1974. Lyall had closed the dealership in ‘ 86. No one was buying equipment when the water was running out. He’d gone back to farming his own ground, put in a center pivot on his quarter section, and watched it go dry in two years. All three trucks had the same thing in the back.
Empty water containers. Alvin stood by his well with a tin cup in his hand and watched the three men get out of their trucks and walk toward him. Nobody said anything for a long time. Finally, Jean Willard spoke. Alvin, we need water for livestock. Our wells are dry. Alvin looked at the three men. He looked at the empty containers. He looked at his well, still producing, still steady, still pumping the same 8 gall a minute had pumped since 1972.
How many head between you? Alvin asked. About 160 total. That’s a lot of water. We know. We’ll pay whatever you want. Alvin shook his head. I don’t want your money. He looked at Lyall Gunderson. I seem to remember you saying I’d be bankrupt in 5 years and you’d be selling my land. Lyall looked at the ground. His face was red. And it wasn’t from the sun. That was a stupid thing to say. Lyall said quietly. I’m sorry.
