Yes, I have a tractor. No, I am not a farmer. So how would a woman like me, long acrylic nails, and living in the city, end up with a tractor? That is a long STORY, involving marriage, babies, wasted concert tickets, international travel, and a long drive from Marshall county to Madison county. My daddy is a country boy from Guntersville, Alabama and he purchased the tractor in 1979, right before meeting my mother. Living there, he definitely had a use for one. My mother is a sweet and feisty island girl from Bermuda and was living in Huntsville, Alabama studying to become a nurse at UAH. She was friends with my dad's sister (my aunt) who had moved from Guntersville and was now living in Huntsville.
My mother accompanied my aunt on a little road trip to Guntersville. She always told me that when she saw my dad come out of his trailer, he was the finest man she had ever seen and she knew she was going to marry him. They got married and moved to Huntsville, leaving the tractor back in Guntersville. My mother was crazy about Kenny Rogers and he was coming to Huntsville to perform at the Von Braun Civic Center, so she and my daddy had their tickets. However, she went into labor early that morning, around midnight, and so she missed the show, but I made my debut.
Shortly after I was born, we moved to Bermuda and I was raised there. Meanwhile, his relatives gradually moved away from Guntersville and moved on with their lives. During one of our annual visits to Huntsville, they decided to go get the tractor from Guntersville and bring it to Huntsville (rather than sell it). So my dad drove the tractor ALL THE WAY from Guntersville to Huntsville with me and my mom trailing behind in the car (she refused to let me ride on the tractor with him). Holding up all kinds of traffic, people were honking their horns and cursing. The tractor was put in the shed behind the house that they bought when they got married. And basically, that was our vacation house, because remember, we were living in Bermuda at the time. So it was locked up in the shed, outta sight, outta mind.
Years later, I had just turned 20 and moved to Huntsville to earn my bachelor's degree after doing two years at The Bermuda College. My mom came with me to help me bring my stuff and transition, blah, blah, blah. By this time, Habititat For Humanity had built some houses for people on the same street. Which is cool, everybody should have a place to live. But this crackhead girl across the street kept knocking on my door and approaching me in my driveway. My mom was like, " I don't feel comfortable going back to Bermuda and leaving you to deal with this kinda thing." So she called the realtor, we found another house and put the other one on the market. Of course, the tractor had to come too, so when my dad came out to visit he drove it to the new place, which is where I live now. He thought he was going to keep it parked in my driveway but I said no. It fits in the 2-car garage and that is where it has been since.
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