A Big Iron memory

Years ago, when I was in high school, my family was harvesting barley on a sweltering ¬†August afternoon. I was tired (6 a.m. football practices and harvest simply don’t mix) and struggling with my lifelong barley allergy. My eyes were itching and tearing and I had trouble seeing, but I was driving the grain truck nonetheless.

Then, over the scratchy truck radio, a recording of Marty Robbins’ classic “Big Iron” began to play. For a few minutes, while the song played, life was good again.

Big Iron, both the song and the annual farm show in West Fargo, N.D., remain part of my life. Another Big Iron show is under way, and I’ll attend Wednesday. You might find me at the Agweek booth, most likely around noon.

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