Miracle in a Hay Field

My Dad and Mom were married on the 23rd of October 1925 and began as they called it back then, “keeping house.” Actually, they rented the Larson place about 2 miles west of Grandpa and Grandma Burke’s. They had a few cows and young stock, probably eight in total and Dad bought a perfectly matched team of dapple grey mares, named Polly and Katie (right off the prairie, unbroken and drugged). The horses began acting a bit strange about the third day, throwing their heads, etc. That evening, Dad decided to hook them to the bobsled and visit his folks. Mom and the dog were sitting on the sled as they drove to the end of the drive way where Dad got off to open the gate. No one knows what or why, but the horses turned away from the gate and at full speed headed across a small meadow. Mom fell off the sled in 50 feet or so, the dog stayed on until the plank box flipped off the bunks. The horses ran into a fence about 300 feet from the gate, one went down, and both were tangled in the wire. Dad cut all the wires but one and gave the cutter to Mom. He stood between the horses holding on to the bridles and said, “Cut the last wire.” When she snipped the wire the horses reared up and headed north with Dad suspended between them. He tried to climb on top of the neck yoke but it was bobbing up and down too crazily for him to make it. He tried to swing to the side, but the horses front legs batted him down. He knew they would straddle a stump or a tree and run the sled tongue through him. He thought, my only chance is to drop in the snow and hope I can go under the sled. He dropped, but a pin through the bolster clipped his head. It was dark enough so that Mom couldn’t see him. She kept calling his name but he didn’t answer until she was nearly hysterical, finally he said, “Go to the house and heat some water.” Then she knew he was hurt, but could only imagine how much. The horses traveled about a hundred feet after Dad dropped before they stumbled and ran the sled tongue into the ground. Dad caught up with them and managed to get them loose from the sled and the neck yoke off of one before they took off into the night. The next morning, when Dad opened the door of the house, the horses again headed away from him, out into the road, headed toward Grandpa’s. The nearest neighbor, Gus Brengelson, had a telephone and saw the horses running with the harnesses dragging and the neck yoke flopping. He called Grandpa and said, “Verdy’s horses are coming your way, and they look like they’re running away.” Grandpa headed them into a pasture where they were able to catch them. No one was ever able to break Katie and she was finally sold to a Fox Farm for fox food. We kept Polly and bought a Bay mare, named Dolly. They were an excellent and stable team. Dolly got Sleeping sickness when she was 32 years of age and died. Polly now 28, fell apart when Dolly died. She roamed the fences hour after hour, day after day, nickering for her partner. Finally the end was so obvious that Dad gave in and called the Fox farm; “Take her, but don’t let me know when” He told them. We were milking one morning when we heard the shot. We didn’t say a word but I saw the tears running down Dad’s cheeks and if anyone had looked my cheeks were wet too. Revelation 6:2 I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to Him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.