I am submitting a “Classic Last Windrow” column from the year 2000. It is appropriate, I think, for this time of year, at the depths of winter and crawling toward March. I’m sure my readers and others can relate to this theme. 

“A Classic” The Last Windrow by John Wetrosky, written Feb. 12, 2000:

I just hauled the third sack of sunflower seeds of the season into our basement. It will probably be the last bag I’ll have to purchase for this winter’s bird feeding. An omen of spring, if you will.

A “Classic” Last Windrow follows with a story about an institution that has undergone many changes in recent years. But, those of my generation will remember these icons of farm country as a centerpiece of their busy lives. 

This column was written in 2001. 

Someone brought me a picture of an old grain elevator the other day. The building no longer exists in our community. It has been replaced by an apartment complex. Small-town elevators have gone the way of the true small farm.

As promised, I am entering some “Classic Last Windrow” columns on this, the 30th year anniversary of writing The Last Windrow. 

I’ve dug into the fireproof files and come up with 30 years of columns. I’ve sorted through them and relived a whole lot of my history over those years. Some of the columns were winners, some were clunkers, but they all told a little bit of my journey. 

What follows is the first column I wrote in 1983. It was actually typed on a real typewriter using carbon paper for a copy. I hope you enjoy some of the “classics!”

I’m walking on the ice of the Big Sioux River. It’s January and the winding river that separates Iowa from South Dakota gurgles under the ice and my five-buckle overshoes.

The ice should be thick enough to hold me, but I’m ever watchful of dark patches that indicate the current is not far below.