By Terence Corrigan

Tennessee correspondent

SHELBYVILLE, Tenn – It’s midday Saturday, Oct. 19 at the Bedford County fairgrounds. Three-quarter ton pickup trucks pull up hauling trailers with 70 and 80-year-old tractors. Some of the tractors are brightly colored restorations. Some look as though they were just dragged out of a field after years of neglect. There’s Minneapolis Molines, Allis-Chalmers, McCormick Farmalls, a Cockshutt and, of course, John Deeres. Each trailer has two tractors on board.

 The loping clatter of tractor engines starting, each brand with its distinctive rhythm, building tempo from the initial claps of initial combustion, is punctuated by the harsh clacking sound of rachet chain-binders and chains on the metal floors of trailers.  

 The antique tractors are not brought here for a beauty contest, their owners are here for performance competition. They are here to see how much weight their tractors can draw. The weighted sleds range from 3,500 hundred pounds up to 8,500 pounds in classes separated by increments of 500 pounds. 

 The competitors come from all age groups – teens to well-seasoned retirees. The youngest attendee is 4-year-old Paisley Anne Winton. All seem to have come to their love of antique tractors through family – farmers or progeny of farmers. For these folks, "farm" is a verb, an action, not a noun, not a place.

Houston Jackson is here with three tractors. He grew up farming. His father grows soybeans and corn on 450 acres. This year, Houston says, was a so-so year for his father’s crops — too much rain in the spring resulting in late planting. “But it turned out OK,” he says.

 There’s not enough money to be made farming to support two families, so Houston works at the John Deere dealership in Murfreesboro. Houston’s wife, Staci, is here, too, preparing score sheets. 

 The object of these antique tractor pulls is not to win, Houston says. It’s not so much about tractors, either. Tractors are just the tie that binds. “It’s more about the people than anything else,” he says. “I just love it.”

 “We can travel all over the country and we know somebody everywhere,” Houston explains. “If we have trouble in the middle of Illinois there’s usually somebody pretty close by to come and help.”

 Houston will compete this day on two Molines and a Farmall, in the 4,000-pound, 4,500-pound and 5,500-pound classes.

 Houston and Staci travel all over in the fall, almost every weekend, to tractor pulls. They will be at a three-day pull in White Pine in November and in Tunica, Miss., in December.

 Ron Dennis is here with two sons and two tractors — Jason and Justin, an Allis-Chalmers and a John Deere. Neither of the boys spends any time peering at a cell phone. 

 Andy Redden is here with two John Deeres, an A model and a B model, 68-years-old and 67-years-old respectively. “Nothin’ runs like a Deere,” he said.

 “I grew up on my grandfather’s old tractor which I’ve still got at home,” Redden says. His grandfather farmed in Bell Buckle, “milked cows, raised hogs,” but Redden didn’t go into farming. “Unless you go big there is no need getting in it,” he explains. “You make more money in a factory.”

 The oddball machine here for the pull is a Canadian Cockshutt deluxe 40. It belongs to Danny Turnbull. Turnbull is a full-time state building inspector and a part-time farmer. He likes the distinctive sound of the Cockshutt’s engine. 

 As it comes up on the 1 p.m. start time, a steady rain delay begins and the 15 or so competitors gather under the roof of the shed that covers the scales. Only one tractor is weighed before the rain puts things on hold. 

 The delay promotes storytelling.

 Weather is the most uncontrollable aspect of farming and this day’s rain comes with at least one weather story.

 The National Weather Service set the probability of rain this day at 20 percent. “Last summer, I baled a field full of square bales,” says Ron Dennis. “I said, ‘well we’ll get them up tomorrow after church.’ The rain chance was two percent. It rained on them. It didn’t rain anywhere else; it just rained right on that hay.”

 Family style, informal tractor pulls here used to draw dozens of entries and many more spectators. These events used to go on all day, until 3 or 4 a.m. the next morning. Although there may be fewer people involved, the ones that are here are not likely to ever get out of it. Like Houston Jackson says, “It’s more about the people. I just love it.”   

Captions

(Andy Redden)

Andy Redden backs his 68-year-old A model John Deere away from the trailer.

(Houston Jackson)

Houston Jackson backs one of his Minneapolis Moline tractors off the trailer.