by Gianetta Palmer

Created on: July 31, 2009

Growing up on the farm on Cherry Fork Road was a lot of fun. We raised tobacco, had a HUGE garden, dabbled in the hog business and had a few cows and chickens. We had a tractor, a wagon, and a manure spreader as well as various lawn mowers, rototillers and chainsaws.

Give a man a chainsaw and it's like giving candy to a fat kid. They don't know when to stop.

My dad loved his chainsaw. I don't remember what the name brand was but it was yellow and matched his pickup truck. Throw in a Kool cigarette dangling out of his mouth and a John Deere cap perched on his hat and he was ready to do some sawin'.

One of the stories he used to tell was how he cut fence posts with his brother for about 30 cents a day. They didn't have a chainsaw back then, they used an eight foot blade saw with a brother on each end.

When it came time to do smaller logs, they would switch from saw to axe. My dad could swing a mean axe, his brother, not so much. In fact, the story goes that my uncle was swinging the axe and the blade flew off and cut my dad's little finger off. I'm not sure which pinkie it was because he had both of them cut off at different times. But that's a different story.

Anyhow, I remember the year my father got his new chainsaw. It was Father's Day, 1974, and let me tell you, that saw was needed. A late spring thunderstorm had blown through and there were trees everywhere...

...trees across the road, trees down in the yard. It was like a tornado had come through. It wasn't that long after the storm had passed when you could hear the roar and the whine of the chainsaws as neighbors up and down the road got to work clearing a path.

Dad wasn't one to be outdone by the neighbors so he grabbed up Brother, the chainsaw, and a couple of axes and headed towards the road. Never one to be left behind, I decided to tag along.

The destruction that this storm had caused was amazing. Big, bold, and majestic trees had fallen victim to Mother Nature. I'm not talking about the Scrub Pines that are so prevalent where I live now. I'm talking about Maples, Poplars, Elms, and sadly, the big Oak tree in front of the barn. Strong, sturdy trees that were toppled like matchsticks.

I started to follow Dad onto the road when I was quickly told to get my butt back up in the yard. This was no place for a kid and I was just going to be in the way. The road had begun to fill with the volunteers from the local fire department checking to make sure everyone was okay. Some power lines had

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