always be the case. Earl, who’d lived through depression and multiple farmer sessions, knew better. When James told his father he’d order the tractors, Earl’s reaction was immediate and volcanic. They were standing in the kitchen of the farmhouse, and Earl slammed his coffee cup down so hard it cracked the saucer.
You did what? James, expecting resistance but not this level of anger, tried to stay calm. Dad, I ordered two new tractors. The 4010 and the 4020 are worn out. We need modern equipment to stay efficient. Earl’s face went red. Worn out. I rebuilt that 4,000 102 years ago. It runs perfect. And the 4020 has maybe 5,000 hours on it.
There’s nothing wrong with those tractors except they’re not shiny and new. James shook his head. They’re old. They’re inefficient. They break down. We’re losing time and money. Running outdated equipment. Earl stood up, his chair scraping loudly against a lenolium floor. How much? How much? What? How much did you borrow? James hesitated.
85,000 for both tractors. 10-year note at 9 12%. Earl went quiet, dangerously quiet. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and hard. You put $85,000 of debt on this farm without asking me. James bristled. You said the farm was mine to run. I said you could run it. I didn’t say you could mortgage it.
This land has been debt-free for 43 years. I swore when my father lost his land that I’d never let it happen again. and you just walked into a dealership and sign away our future. The argument escalated. James accused his father of being stuck in the past, of refusing to adapt, of holding the farm back out of a rational fear.
