Written By John Caverhill
I was eleven years old when I first met Bibby, or ‘Old Bibby’ as he was usually called. His faded black attire accentuated his elderly appearance yet he had a jaunty air that suggested he was still capable of handling any situation that might arise. Even his name, ‘Bibby’, had a bounce that hinted at possibilities and over the years he more than lived up to that first impression.
Three Caverhill family farms and our neighbour, Elliot Shipley, worked together at the seasonal harvest jobs. In 1942, a Massey Harris ‘Clipper’ combine replaced the threshing machine. The combine had a bagging stand instead of a grain bin, and the bags of grain were dumped each round at the end of the field and hauled up to the barn by horse and wagon.
When Bibby arrived, he immediately proved his worth when handling a load of grain. Now if Bibby had a last name, it probably would have been Ford, because he was an old model T Ford truck purchased by Campbell Caverhill. While Bibby was overdressed for his first day on the job, on the second day he came stripped for action. The vertical side and rear racks were removed, allowing bags to be slung onto the flatbed on all sides. Both doors were also gone, providing easy cab access and lots of fresh air for the occupants. A ride in Old Bibby, whether in the cab or on the back, was an exhilarating experience.
Hauling grain with Old Bibby was much faster than using a wagon and horses. In second gear, we would head up to the barn, swing around, and reverse up the gangway into the barn and back right up to the granary door, leaving only a few steps to carry the bags and empty them into the bins. It was during the rides back to the field that Old Bibby was at his best. In high gear we would race along the century-old earth tracks worn by countless passages of the wheels of wagons and other agriculture implements. The cab windshield also opened from the bottom, adding to the breezy experience on these rides.
It was the custom for the older riders in the right-hand passenger seat to extend the right leg out and rest the foot on the running board. As a kid, I thought this was really cool, but of course my legs were much too short so I had to content myself with riding the conventional (not cool) way with both feet on the cab floor. Each year, the first time I sat in Old Bibby I would see if I had grown enough for my foot to reach the running board. For three years in spite of repeated, frustrating attempts during which I would nearly unhinge my right hip I had to resign myself to riding the traditional (not cool) way.
The year was 1950. I had just turned 14 and had just completed grade 9 at Medway High School. I was a high school student, for crying out loud, not a kid anymore! This had to be the year! I had never heard of elevator shoes but if I had, I would have been desperate enough to try them. Climbing into Bibby’s cab I sat down, then slid over to the very end of the seat, eyes fixed on the running board. With my left hand clutching the edge of the seat beside me I extended my right leg, and pointing my foot down, the toe of my shoe made contact with the running board. At last, I was tall enough!
Old Bibby served us well for over ten years, then he was replaced by a 40’s vintage green Chevrolet truck named Herby, or Herb, after his previous owner. While he was also a good worker, he lacked the breezy dash and flair of Old Bibby (Herb kept his doors on).
The rides in Old Bibby still remain more green in my memory than all the rides in all the vehicles I have ridden in over the intervening seventy years.
