[Congressional Record Volume 147, Number 110 (Wednesday, August 1, 2001)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E1493]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                         TRIBUTE TO MY GRANDDAD

                                 ______
                                 

                            HON. SAM GRAVES

                              of missouri

                    in the house of representatives

                       Wednesday, August 1, 2001

  Mr. GRAVES. Mr. Speaker, since I was a young boy, chasing more 
chickens than girls, I watched my granddad Wilferd and my dad, Samuel 
Graves Sr., account for loose parts on tractors, missing pieces on 
planters, and nearly anything else that needed fixing with a good, 
straight piece of baling wire. Every year, we would go down to Tarkio 
Pelleting, the local feed store, and buy a new bundle of baling wire. 
We all called it Number 9 wire, but it really wasn't. Number 9 is much 
heavier and doesn't bend so easily. As I got older, it didn't take long 
until I was using the baling wire on things of my own. The barn door to 
my show heifer, the fender on my first bicycle, and half my G.I. Joe 
Collection needed some mending of one sort or another. As a young man, 
I didn't think a thing about it. When I needed it, I used it.
  Today when I walk around the farm, I still think of Granddad. His 
1968 John Deere 4020 that he bought brand new still has baling wire 
holding the air cleaner on. Every where you look, baling wire holds 
something together on the old home place--the 1983 John Deere 6630 
Sidehill Combine and even the new (well, relatively new) John Deere 
7200 vacuum planter has its fair share of the trusty ol' wire keeping 
it together.
  In life, only friendship can hold things together like a bundle of 
baling wire. As I think back on my good days, my bad days, the days 
when I was a proud father, and the days when I was a grandson mourning 
the loss of my granddad, there was always a friend there to comfort and 
share their concerns with me. Just like climbing onto the old 4020, I 
often have taken for granted that the baling wire will hold or that my 
friends will be there for me. I want to thank my friend, Scott Eckard, 
for being there for me when I needed him; and I want him to know that I 
am with him now--for whatever he needs from me. Granddad always told me 
that baling wire would even hold back time, if we could just catch it. 
My friend, I am not sure that we can ever hold onto time, but I am ever 
grateful that we have held onto our friendship.

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