I pass this old farm frequently on my trips across the farmland of Indiana. The barn is now in much worse condition than it was when I took these photos three years ago. You can see that the old King farm is now abandoned, and the structures of a modern grain farm can be seen in the distance. What does this series of photos say to you?
It says to me, “Not viable in the long run”.
djm
Sorta familiar-lookin’.
Familiar here, too…except for that oddly flat horizon and that great big bowl o’ sky. 
Around here it’s the tobacco barns that are all falling down. I keep meaning to get out and photograph a bunch of them, while I can. Burley tobacco growing is on its way out; and so, also, is the air-drying tobacco barn of the mountains, most of which look completely dilapidated whether they’re being used or not. The old family tobacco farms are being slowly sold off to developers…even in the deepest hollers. Scary.
Nice pix, Doug.
It is rather obvious to me that the owners of this property, which is now surrounded by fields of corn, are maintaining it as a family heirloom. I have been observing the property for years, and I haven’t seen a “for sale” sign.
To me, the property demonstrates the evolution of farming in the midwest. When my father was a child (one of twelve children living in a small farmhouse), the farming family was able to make a living by having a few farm animals (cows, pigs, and chickens) along with a cash crop like tobacco. I think that the King farm was a farm similar to the farm where my father grew up. There were cows to milk, eggs to gather, and a lot of hard work in the fields.
Today, when I drive by places, such as the King farm, I can sense many things from the past. I can see the children waiting patiently for the school bus on a cold winters morning. I can see and smell the farm animals in the barn. The King barn seems so small to me, yet the King family proudly wrote the names of three generations on its sides. I can also sense the many activities that took place within the house: the love-making, the boisterious sounds of children at play, and the preparations for holiday events, such as Christmas.
Yes, the era of the small family farm is in the past, but it is a past that will live in the memory of some of us as a good life on this planet.
This series of photos makes me think of Ein deutsches Requiem (“A German Requiem”) by Johannes Brahms.
These are the words in German and English for the first three movements:
I. Chorus
Selig sind, die da Leid tragen,
denn sie sollen getröstet werden.
Die mit Tränen säen,
werden mit Freuden ernten.
Sie gehen hin und weinen,
und tragen edlen Samen,
und kommen mit Freuden
und bringen ihre Garben.
Blessed are they that mourn;
for they shall be comforted. (Matthew 5:4)
They that sow in tears
shall reap in joy.
They that go forth and weep,
bearing precious seed,
shall come again with rejoicing,
bringing their sheaves with them. (Psalm 126:5-6)
II. Chorus
Denn alles Fleisch es ist wie Gras
und alle Herrlichkeit des Menschen
wie des Grases Blumen.
Das Gras ist verdorret
und die Blumen abgefallen.
So seid nun geduldig, lieben Brüder,
bis auf die Zukunft des Herrn.
Siehe, ein Ackermann wartet auf
die köstliche Frucht der Erde
und ist geduldig darüber,
bis er empfahe
den Morgenregen und Abendregen.
So seid geduldig.
Denn alles Fleisch es ist wie Gras . . .
Aber des Herrn Wort bleibt in Ewigkeit.
Die Erlöseten des Herrn
werden wiederkommen,
und gen Zion kommen mit Jauchzen;
Freude, ewige Freude wird über
ihrem Haupte sein;
Freude und Wonne werden sie ergreifen
und Schmerz und Seufzen wird weg müssen.
For all flesh is as grass,
and all the glory of man
as the flowers of the grass.
The grass is withered,
and the flowers fallen away. (I Peter 1:24)
Be patient, therefore, brethren,
unto the coming of the Lord.
Behold, the husbandman waiteth for
the precious fruit of the earth,
and hath long patience for it,
until he receive
the early and the latter rain.
So be patient. (James 5:7)
For all flesh is as grass . . .
But the word of the Lord endureth forever.
(I Peter 1:25)
And the ransomed of the Lord
shall return,
and come to Zion with songs
and everlasting joy
upon their heads:
they shall obtain joy and gladness,
and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.
(Isaiah 35:10)
III. Baritone Solo and Chorus
Herr, lehre doch mich, dass ein Ende
mit mir haben muss, und mein Leben
ein Ziel hat, und ich davon muss.
Siehe, meine Tage sind eine
Handbreit vor dir,
und mein Leben ist wie nichts vor dir.
Ach, wie gar nichts sind alle Menschen,
die doch so sicher leben.
Sie gehen daher wie ein Schemen,
und machen ihnen viel vergebliche Unruhe;
sie sammeln und wissen nicht,
wer es kriegen wird.
Nun Herr, wes soll ich mich trösten?
Ich hoffe auf dich.
Der Gerechten Seelen sind in Gottes Hand
und keine Qual rühret sie an.
Lord, make me to know mine end,
and the measure of my days, what it is;
and I must journey toward it.
Behold thou hast made my days as an
handbreadth;
and mine age is as nothing before thee:
verily, every man at his best state
is altogether vanity.
Surely every man walketh in a vain shew;
surely they are disquieted in vain:
he heapeth up riches,
and knoweth not who shall gather them.
And now, Lord, what is my hope?
My hope is in thee. (Psalm 39:4-7)
The souls of the righteous are in God’s hand,
and there shall no torment touch them.
(Wisdom of Solomon 3:1)
Some notes on the requiem:
A “requiem” is a mass for the dead; a musical setting of the mass for the dead (from 1st line of the ceremony “Requiem aeternam”–eternal rest; later sections include “Dies Irae”–day of wrath); note that the requiem mass was in Latin
The mass (the main religious ritual of the Roman Catholic Church) had been set to music for centuries: chanted through Middle Ages; polyphonic mass starting in the 1300s; famous masses by Palestrina [in Renaissance], Bach [in Baroque period], Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven [classical period], and others;
Requiem mass also chanted; polyphonic settings starting in 1400s; one of most famous is by Mozart in classical period; later settings: Berlioz, Verdi, and Faure (also Liszt, Saint-Saens, Bruckner, and Dvorak) in 1800s; Benjamin Britten, John Rutter, and Andrew Lloyd Webber in 20th century
**—>**Brahms’s setting is different because doesn’t use the words or structure of the requiem mass; rather uses scriptures from the Old and New Testaments (and the Apocrypha) in Luther’s translation; also instead of Latin, German–hence “A German Requiem” (note: he later said he maybe should have called it “A Human Requiem”)
**—>**Non-denominational (not even explicitly Christian, though uses New Testament scriptures); also differs from traditional requiem in being more for the living (those who are mourning) than for the dead
(Not entirely new, though); Influence of earlier music: Bach (polyphony; sacred choral music); even earlier Heinrich Schutz (wrote a requiem in German and other sacred music using some of the same verses)
it says to me that the barn wasn’t very near a road, or it would have had “Mail Pouch” painted on it long ago!
Abandoned houses always make me rather sad. I keep thinking “if only that poor old house could talk…the stories it could tell!”
Redwolf
From the movies seen on TV,
The stories houses tell,
Are often quite unseemly,
Maybe from the depths of hell.
There was a movie, Poltergeist,
Or maybe there were three,
Effects were cheap and poorly spliced,
And dreadful, seemed to me.
Why not leave the houses quiet,
And let them have their peace?
And if you cannot buy it,
Don’t sign a long-term lease!
–Walden
I love to look at old barns for all the aforementioned reasons. Great pics.
Cynth, please take, and post, those pictures!!!
It makes me feel slightly uneasy.
Possibly because I am currently reading “In Cold Blood”
Doug, you have the soul of a poet…
M
There was a King Farm near me. I drive by it every day on the way to work. Don’t read this story if you don’t want to feel like there’s something wrong with the world.
King Farm was in suburban Washington. It was a fixture on one of the main roads in the burbs. When heavy development began out here, oh, 20-odd years ago, Mr. King was adamant that his farm remain a farm for the foreseeable future. It was wonderful to be driving up Rockville Pike, past all the car dealers, and encounter a mile of corn. It was a fixture on the landscape. Around 1990, in failing health, he sold his farm to his adult children, maybe 500 acres for $2.4 million. When Mr. King died, the IRS was going over his estate and discovered this sale. They hit the kids with a tax bill of tens of millions of dollars, claiming the land was worth $100 million, and they owed tax on $97.6 million, the difference between the commercial value of the land and what the kids had paid. Evidently the county had zoned the land as mixed-use, when everyone had assumed it was zoned agricultural. The kids fought the tax thing, the county fought it, but in the end the IRS won. The land was auctioned for $44.5 million. In the end the kids wound up with. . . 2.4 million. After all the legal fees, back taxes, and penalties, they got back exactly what they paid for it. And the rest of us got 20,000 residential and commercial units. Personally I’d rather drive by a corn field.
Nice! Brilliant piece. Didn’t know that about Schutz.
What they say to me are:
Beware of eminent domain.
I think you mean "scottielvr, please take, and post, those pictures!!! And I’d love to see them too. 
All righty then, Cynth, I give up. This goes beyond a personal identity crisis; it seems I’ve been assimilated. They want me to be you, so to heck with it. It’s not that much fun being me, anyway, so I’m packing for Iowa. I’m cool with that; I hear it’s lovely there this time of year. I look forward to seeing the baby raccoons. You can take the day shift on the board, and I’ll handle the night-shift posting duties. Will that be quite convenient?
P.S. I don’t do windows. But I suppose I can help y’all out with making the jerky…if I have to.
P.P.S. Doug, I’m sorry; your lovely thread has been hijacked. But you can’t really blame me. I’m not myself these days.
Hey, I already apologized for my gaff, Cynthlvr … I mean, sorry, I … er … Scottcynthr … NO, I mean, um … Scinnyliver … <darn, what was it again?> … 
djm
Now just hang on there a minute little dudette. Let’s think about this.
Everyone remembers what you say and they remember my name. So I think they want me to be you!
Someone has lied to you. It is lovely only if you are a corn plant. You are not cool with that. You are hot, sweaty, sticky, and cranky. You can see the haze across the street. The humidity is so bad your hair is four times its normal volume. You have merely to lift a finger (something I rarely do in any case and certainly not for the purpose of washing windows) and sweat pours down your brow into your eyes.
This is what is looks like here right now. That haze is all the water in the air.
It got up to around 90 today. They have air conditioning for the hogs.
Heck, I’m more than ready to be someone else. Don’t you live in some nice cool mountains in North Carolina or thereabouts? How hot is it there? More to the point, what’s your relative humidity been? What’s the snake situation like? Have many earwigs?
If it’s hot and humid where you are too, I suggest we desert our posts and go somewhere cool.
Like Iceland!!!
This IS scary.
So, scottielvr, um…pics? heh heh. 