Stories from Mid-America
From last Friday’s entry about Dekalb Genetics, my friend Jesse sent a story from his childhood along. I thought it was a poignant look at how companies and their symbols get into our minds and hearts. Herewith:
Don’t remember if I ever showed you my prized specimen. It’s on a sort of fiberboard, about 3 feet wide. Not sure how old it is, but I’m surprised I found it in such good condition, assuming it was hanging outside (which it looks like it probably was). I remember as a kid Dad would bring home yellow and green Dekalb hats for my brother and I that he got from the dealer. I guess we’d call them trucker hats today, back then they were just “hats”. I think I had three or four, wish I had them still. When I got a little older I’d ride in the gravity wagon behind the corn picker (the kind that mounts on a tractor and looks like a dinosaur), dodging the ears shooting out of it and pushing the corn to the middle with my legs while Dad and Grandpa took turns driving. Great memories.
And here’s my prized specimen, a rusted weathervane. I kinda love how this logo’s never the same twice.