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.
The standoff lasted another 30 minutes. James argued, pleaded, and finally threatened to sue his own father. Earl didn’t budge. Finally, Rick Holloway made a decision. He told Mike to take the tractors back to the dealership. We’ll sort this out, he said to James. Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. But Earl knew exactly what would happen.
The dealership would keep the tractors on their lot and James would either have to find somewhere else to put them or he’d have to cancel the contract and face potential penalties. Either way, the tractors weren’t coming onto the Patterson farm. James didn’t speak to his father for 3 weeks. He rented a small shed from a neighbor 5 mi away and had the tractors delivered there.
He paid $200 a month for the storage. He took out an operating loan to cover startup cost for the season since his cash was tied up in the tractor payments. And he farmed the Patterson 640 acres with the new John Deers. Determined to prove his father wrong, Earl meanwhile watched silently. He didn’t interfere. He didn’t sabotage.
He just watched. The 1978 growing season started well enough. James planted all 640 acres, mostly corn with some soybeans using a new 4440 and a new planter he’d also financed. Another $12,000 he hadn’t told his father about until after the fact. The equipment performed beautifully. The 4440 was powerful, comfortable, efficient.
James covered ground faster than he ever had with the old 4010. He felt vindicated. See, he told himself, “The old man does understand modern farming.” Then summer arrived, and it was dry, not a catastrophic drought, but below average rainfall in June and July. Corn across Marshall County was stressed. James’ fields, which he’d fertilized heavily using recommendations from an aronomist who worked on commission selling fertilizer, were showing signs of nitrogen burn.
