A PROUD MAN
He looked like something from a John Steinbeck novel. His brown skin was more than his heritage; he’s spent a lifetime working the fields. His clothes, while old, were orderly. He sat upon the old leather seat with honor, a proud man, like a king upon his throne that was worn into his shape from the days spent upon it.
His stoic face looked like it had been chiseled from granite and laughter was a luxury he couldn’t afford. His silver and bushy eyebrows matched his regal mustache. He wore it like he did his clothes – the type of face hair that one knows with just a glance is a pride and priority for the one wearing it.
His dark brown eyes spoke of a fearless nature through a permanently squinted perspective and fleshy ravines exploding from the edges of his eyes like rivers of a lifetime of experiences. He sat with his back straight, as if God had just whispered in his ear, “Attention!” His shoulder blades pulled back, chest jutted out along with his burrito fed belly.
His hat was the typical golden straw type of hat that couldn’t decide if the one sporting it was a cowboy or a worker, but whatever the man considered himself, he wore it with dignity and pride.
I knew we’d happened upon a man who had rarely seen a silver spoon, much less been born with one in his mouth. No – this man clearly was the type of man you could expect to spit a silver spoon out of his mouth with contempt. His was no easy life, but easier now than when he didn’t sit upon his seat. He bounced upon his seat like riding a horse. The silver-haired king didn’t fight the horse or machine, he knew when to use muscle and when to roll with the forces. It was instinct for him now – like breathing to you and me.
Initially, I had no reverence for the man – I’d made the mistake of thinking that I was the king of the road, but it didn’t take long to realize it was his road… I waited patiently behind the farmer as he rode upon his throne pulling the small trailer behind his tractor. When I pulled around him I turned to see the stoic king again – no emotion… he’d seen it all before. There would be no surprises in the silver kings world.
Just as I’d gotten around the old guy I was stopped short by a stop sign and fate. After stopping I hesitated, watching the granite faced king in my rearview mirror and even until he pulled up along side of us to turn right. I was captivated by the man of old and waited to get a closer glimpse of him as he rolled up to not quite a stop.
As I gazed upon the man and his throne, he looked back through me… looking at nothing yet seeing it all… Only royalty has that gift… The regal farmer reminded me that it matters not what we do, but how we do what we do…
Sometimes you can actually see honor…
Betty Draper
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 11:25 am
My brother you got a glimpse of pure, “I am what I am” character of the tractor man. The perceptive writer in you pours out of ever descriptive word in this post. Makes me want to meet him and listen to what life has given him and how he dealt with it.
All of us have seen people like your tractor man…I actually live with one, only without the tractor. If you met my husband you would say the same of him, others have, a face of character, a body riddled by health trials, hard work and a life lived often without any regard for his self. Life leaves it’s marks and it’s up to us how we carry them. God sure wants to use them to bring Him glory. His son carries the marks of His short 33 years on this earth. Great post.
Floyd
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 3:58 pm
“Life leaves its marks and it’s up to us how we carry them.” I like that, Betty. I know I’d love to sit and chat with Ace. The world doesn’t have enough of the true “man’s men” left. The words the speak carry deep meaning and rich wisdom… and their words are better heard in their actions… that’s the man I want to be… Thanks, Betty.
tcavey
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 11:53 am
You paint a vivid picture! You have a true talent with words.
You reminded me of the many times I hurried around tractors in the town I grew up in. I was too blind then to see this.
Floyd
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 4:00 pm
I was too blind to see it as a kid too, TC, but I see it now. And the respect I have for those type of people are infinitely more than the ones I see on TV or in the businesses that tell me how great they are… Actions… it’s all about the actions… Thanks, TC. As usual – you’re not alone…
Mia
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 12:44 pm
Dear Floyd
This gentleman you have described sounds so much like my ancestors, the Afrikaners (Afrikaans speaking South Africans).They were also mostly poor farmers, but the salt of the earth. They worked hard and were considered rich if they could afford a tractor. I don’t know if you are familiar with the Boer War in South Africa when the English wanted our country. Well, they resisted and a terrible war was the result. It was so sad! The English broke the Afrikaners’ back by putting thousands of their women and children in concentration camps and burned the farms. Thousands of these women and children died in the camps due to all kinds of illnesses, mostly dysentery. Well, this history lesson is just to tell you that I know of what kind of aristocracy you are talking.
Blessings and thanks for a great post as well as my good Mother’s Day wishes.
Mia
Floyd
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 4:03 pm
I haven’t heard anything in detail like this, Mia. I appreciate the fine heritage and pride you have in your ancestors… sounds like you too are part of that most preferred aristocracy. Your welcome, surfer mom! Thanks, Mia.
David
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 1:52 pm
Oh to find the freedom of a man proud in his work
The work by nature humble, yet proud to work the earth
So many people proud through self-claimed higher birth
No where near the value of the humble man’s proud work
Oh to have the peace and joy of humble work done well
No room for bragging rights, our labor’s fruit the story tells …..
Just a thought …
Floyd
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 4:06 pm
Awesome poem, David. And a wise tribute to the people that are blessed far beyond what the world can grasp… “Sweet is the sleep of a man that laboureth.” You are quite the multifaceted man. Great stuff. Thanks, David.
Dan Black
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 4:00 pm
Great perspective, I especially enjoyed this powerful statement, “The regal farmer reminded me that it matters not what we do, but how we do what we do.” Whatever we do it’s important to give and do our personal best. So at the end of the day we can lay our head on our pillow and feel accomplished and fulfilled, from giving our best and all.
Floyd
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 4:14 pm
Yes, sir. Well said, Dan. The gratification is the gift that is so overlooked in our society these days. Being dependable and satisfied is a gift all unto itself. “Giving our best.” That should be the mark of all of us. Thanks, Dan.
Hazel Moon
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 5:40 pm
This reminds me of my grandpa on my mothr’s side. My husband worked in the fields too as a young lad, and as he advanced to hold a job in roofing it was daily that his hands were dirty. Our hands, and body may be covered with dirt and dust, but hard work did feed the growing family. Hail to the kings out there who still are not fearful of getting dirty to earn a living. This morning I read a moving post by Ann Voskamp regarding her husband and his working through the night to plow and plant for his large family of eight. You might like this one.
http://www.aholyexperience.com/2013/05/simply-3-words-for-every-day/
Floyd
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 6:12 pm
I’ll check it out. Thanks, Hazel. And I know Robert is cut from the same mold and worked by the sweat of his brow and in dangerous places to care for his family. That life is an example without having to say a word…
Voni Harris
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 6:44 pm
Reminded of my grandfather, whose ranch property spread as far in all directions as you could see. A sense of ownership, of belonging, of knowing who you are.
Blessings,
Voni
Floyd
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 7:05 am
“Knowing who you are.” Not many people can claim that these days. Too many people are trying to fit into the mold the world says they should be… There is something to be said for those who go their own way. Thanks, Voni.
Lynn Morrissey
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 @ 8:21 pm
I love your posts, Floyd, because they tell real stories of real people, and so we can insert those we know into them. My grandfather didn’t work a farm, but he worked an assembly line for Chevrolet, and he worked long, hard hours for very little pay. He was a man of great character and intergrity. I think men of this generation were. And this reminded me of him somehow. You have a strong character too and I so appreciate all you say here!
Lynn
PS Your social media column hid some of the post, but I read the vast majority of it.
Floyd
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 7:08 am
I agree, Lynn. The generations that have moved on and are moving on were people of strong moral fiber. Keeping their word was more important than making money. It’s not like that now! I’m glad you got to recall your grandfather and thanks for sharing him with us. Thanks, Lynn.
The media bar should be on the right side? I’ll check it out. Thanks.
Dan Erickson
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 4:39 am
I know exactly the type of man, Floyd. I’ve seen him before. Honor speaks. On another note, this is another well-written short piece. You have a gift for this. I just had an idea. What if you created a daily devotional book out of these little snippets. They’re the perfect length and it would stand out as unique from most devotionals. Just a thought.
Floyd
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 7:10 am
“Honor speaks.” You summed that up perfectly, Dan! Thanks for the kind words. I’ve heard that before about the book, I’ll check into it, and thanks for thinking outside the box for me! I like the way you think, Dan.
Lynn Morrissey
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 7:14 am
Thanks for these kind words, Floyd.
Yes, the media bar had been fixed, then was in the way yesterday, but looks great today. ThankS! Don’t want to miss one word of your wonderful writing.
Lynn
Floyd
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 6:16 pm
Awe shucks… Thanks, Lynn. You’re too good to me!
Jillie
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 12:24 pm
Wonderful post, Floyd. I love your stories. Makes me think of my own dear husband who works so hard every day, yet never complains. He’s definitely one of the good ones. A ‘king’ among men.
Floyd
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 6:17 pm
I so respect those men; men of honor. You can see it in their eyes. God blessed you with a king of a man. Thanks, Jillie.
Jason Stasyszen
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 4:01 pm
We are to keep our eyes not on the seen because it’s temporary, but on the unseen which is eternal. I believe what you describe is something unseen, this man bearing the image of God and honor. Something to be applauded and celebrated for sure. Thanks Floyd.
Floyd
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 6:20 pm
Well said, Jason. You preachers have a way with words! God and honor… Something to be sought by all of us… Thanks, Jason.
Lincoln Parks
Thursday, May 16, 2013 @ 9:28 pm
Floyd, your experiences are awesome. You are a treasure trove of knowledge and passion. I see that how you describe situations really make them come alive. Have you written any books or desire to? I would snatch it up in a heartbeat because I absolutely love how you write and express your emotions. Thank you for sharing this because it made me realize that we must stay calm in the face of adversity.
Floyd
Friday, May 17, 2013 @ 3:55 pm
Thanks, Lincoln. I appreciate the encouraging words. I’ve written a couple of books, the last one is a historical fiction account of the Roman soldier at the cross of Christ titled, “The Blood And The Sword.” I’m currently querying it to different Christian agents. It is a bit raw so I think it might end up, if I’m lucky, to be represented by a non-Christian agent even though I will exhaust all other avenues before heading that direction.
I’m glad you got something out of it, brother. Thanks, man.
A Little R & R
Wednesday, May 22, 2013 @ 1:27 am
You have a wonderful way with words. I truly enjoyed reading this post. I will never look at a farmer on a tractor the same way again (and in my neck of the woods, I see them often). Thank you for this wonderful description.
Floyd
Wednesday, May 22, 2013 @ 6:56 am
I’m with you; we need to look upon all people who do what they do to provide for their own with honor. It is a good reminder and lesson for me. Thanks! And take care in Croatia!
Loren Pinilis
Thursday, May 23, 2013 @ 10:21 am
As a good ol’ country boy, I can tell you that there are plenty of things out there that money can’t buy.
Floyd
Thursday, May 23, 2013 @ 12:32 pm
Amen, Loren. Money can’t buy the most needed things… starting with the Truth! Thanks, Loren. I can relate to the good ole’ country boys!
Keith Walker
Saturday, June 1, 2013 @ 2:11 pm
As the others have commented, a very evocative piece. You can all but feel the heat and smell the diesel. I responded to the description about posture. Most of the world slouches through life. When I catch my own shoulders rounded, I will snap them back, very much like your whisper to come to attention. I suppose that’s the thing about honor. It doesn’t really matter what you do, rather how you do it. Bowed down with eyes on the ground. Or with a straight spine and eyes forward. As with most of your posts, you describe an ideal. It’s hard to be an ideal all the time. It’s the attempt that matters. Maybe that is where the honor is. I choose the straight spine and eyes forward.
Floyd
Saturday, June 1, 2013 @ 2:51 pm
It is hard to live an ideal all the time, impossible I think. I too want a stiff and straight spine, and pull it off still, but it’s wearying… I choose to the eyes wide open as well, seeing nothing and yet seeing it all… Thanks, Keith. Always a captivating experience to hear from you, my friend.