Mike, not seeing any other option, made the calls. Within 20 minutes, Rick Holloway’s pickup truck came roaring down the county road, followed a few minutes later by James and his truck. The scene that unfolded was later described by Mike Sorenson to at least a dozen people at the cafe in town and it entered local legend. James jumped out his truck, furious.
Dad, what the hell are you doing? These are my tractors. Earl stood his ground. They’re not your tractors. They’re the bank’s tractors. You’re just making payments on them, and they’re not coming onto land that I own. James is face flushed. You said I could run the farm. I said you could farm the land.
I didn’t say you could leverage it. There’s a difference and you’re about to learn it the hard way. Rick Holloway, sensing the sale falling apart, tried to intervene. Gentlemen, let’s all calm down. Mr. Patterson Earl, I understand your concerns, but James is a grown man. He’s made a business decision. These tractors will increase productivity, reduce costs in the long run.
Earl turned to Rick with a look. that could have melted steel. Rick, you sold my son $85,000 worth of equipment he doesn’t need and can’t afford. And you did it knowing damn well I’d never have approved it. You want to help? Get in your truck and get off my property. Rick, for the first time looked uncertain. The contract is signed. The loan is approved.
These tractors are legally purchased. Earl nodded slowly. That may be true, but the delivery address is my property and I’m refusing delivery. So, unless you want to sue me for breach of contract, which I’m not part of, you can load those tractors back up and take them to your lot, or James can rent ground somewhere else to park them, but they’re not staying here.
