"It's a Wonderful Life" When you Have your Own Skidder

DO NOT read this story before you have read “Christmas in Maine” by Bette Bergeron. Otherwise, you won’t know what I’m talking about.

It’s funny in this blog business how sometimes one story leads to another. The poem “Christmas in Maine,” by my niece, Bette, came to me via one of those wonderful newspaper clippings I’ve received in the mail over the years from either my mother or my sister-in-law, Kay. Kay is Bette’s mother. I’ve hung onto this particular clipping for 24 years.

As I reread the poem I came across the word “skidder.” I wasn’t sure what a “skidder” was, so, of course, I googled it. Here’s a description and a brief history I found on Wikipedia:

"A skidder is any type of heavy vehicle used in a logging operation for pulling cut trees out of a forest in a process called "skidding", in which the logs are transported from the cutting site to a landing. Here they are loaded onto trucks (or in times past, railroad cars or flumes), and sent to the mill. One exception is that in the early days of logging, when distances to the timberline from the mill were shorter, the landing stage was omitted altogether, and the "skidder" would have been used as the main road vehicle, in place of the trucks, railroad, or flume. Modern forms of skidders can pull trees with a cable/winch, just like the old steam donkeys, or a grapple or a clam-bunk.

History

Early skidders were pulled by a team of horses or mules. The driver would straddle the cart over felled logs, where dangling tongs would be positioned to raise the end of the log off the ground. The team pulled the tongue forward, allowing the log to "skid" along between the rolling wheels. These were known as "slip-tongue wheels" Starting in the early 1920s, animals were gradually replaced by gasoline-powered crawlers, although some small operations continue to use them. In other places, steel "arches" were used behind the crawlers. Similar in function to the slip-tongue wheels, arches were used to reduce friction by rising up one end of the load, which was dangled from a cable which in turn ran down the back of the arch, & was raised or lowered by the crawler's winch. Another piece similar to the arch was the "bummer", which was simply a small trailer to be towed behind a crawler, on top of which one end of the log load would rest."

I think this is what Bette meant in her poem. The very oldest picture of a skidder I found that would have been drawn by horses came from the Institute of Texan Cultures in San Antonio, Texas. The photo below is credited to Larry D. Moore.

This, however, is a picture of a modern day skidder, although it looks a bit rusty to me.

OK. So picture this modern day skidder minus the motor with a “herd of moose” hitched up to it. Now imagine that this scenario is real. A skidder pulled by the moose and driven by “you know who” skids over the ice in the harbor; lands in a snow drift in front of your house; and then the moose “fly” with the driver and the skidder up to the top of your roof.

I hope you have your insurance company on speed dial if this should happen to you. What would you tell the agent in that phone call?

The plot thickens, so to speak, when I came across a tribute to Eddie Nash, pictured here sitting on one of his tractors. The tribute was originally written by Colles Stowell, a Globe correspondent, which I assume is the Boston Globe, because Nash Equipment, Eddie’s company is located in New Hampshire. It is still a company even though Eddie has passed away.

Now tell me that Eddie doesn’t look like Bette’s “skidder driver.” Right?

Come to find out, our Eddie led a life very similar to the hero in the Hollywood film that has become a tradition for many of us, as we watch it every year on TNT. “It’s a Wonderful Life” starred Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed and tells the story of George Bailey. When he is about to commit suicide, his guardian angel shows him all of the lives he has touched and the contributions he has made to his community.

Nash gave up farming because it was too hard. He ended up establishing a company which buys and sells new and used farm equipment, including skidders. Very much like the spirit of George Bailey, the tribute story says:

“About half of their customers are individuals with only a little money, willing to risk most everything they have to buy a big machine on the chance that they can make a lot. They go to Nash and Sons because they will provide the kind of in-house financing that many banks won't offer when someone with no experience wants to buy a skidder to get into forestry work.

With $1,000 to $2,000 down, for instance, someone can try the forestry service market, which could yield $2,000 to $3,000 a week. But it's not easy work, and it's tougher to make a profit if you don't have buyers for your wood. Before you walk away with a Nash machine, they make sure you can operate it, and if you're breaking into a profession, that you have a market.

Nash accepted animals, snow machines, motorcycles, and cars as collateral. Only occasionally did he have to keep the collateral. "I like to see a guy make it. You understand how a school teacher feels when a student grows up to be great," he said.”

Doesn’t that sound like George making a low interest home loan in hard times to those in his community who really needed a helping hand?

Eddie Nash was a symbol of all that is good about New England folks. Yes he was a Yankee Trader in New Hampshire. He could just as well be a Maineiac. New England people help each other out in times of need to help their fellow citizens and their community. They deal fairly and with a heart in their business dealings. George and Eddie remind us of what “the Spirit of Christmas” is all about.

A NOTE about the skidder video from News Center, WCSH6 in Portland, I think. They did not identify the station in the video. Do you hear that wind in the mike of the reporter? I suspect he was low man on the totem pole when it comes to covering news outdoors in winter in all kinds of frigid weather. Those guys working on that ice sure look cold. Do you think they ever got that skidder out of the drink? The reporter warns you to check the ice depths before you venture out onto the ice. Really? I guess no one checked before they drove that heavy old skidder out onto Longfellow Lake up there in Aroostook County on Rt. 1.

I’m afraid that ice house is a goner come spring when the ice “goes out” unless they can find a less heavy vehicle that is safe on the ice to pull it out.

So there’s your story about everything you ever wanted or didn’t want to know about “skidders.” Stay warm up there in Maine this winter.