There’s something about a barn

There’s something about a barn.

Wind whispers a different song every day when it comes through the knots in the siding of an old barn; hay and straw in the hayloft have a peculiar smell, depending on the season of the year; treasures – real and imaginary – lay hidden in the nooks and crannies.

It may seem odd to many people, but those childhood memories of time spent doing chores – or just being near my dad, Clemens Kloeckner, while he milked the cows and fed assorted livestock – remain with me to this day as among the best experiences of my life.

There’s just something about a barn.

The barn that was host to all those magical moments is no more. A bolt of lightning led to its quick and fiery demise almost 20 years ago. The images of that blaze remain vivid in my mind, aided in part by a photograph I took as the old, dry beams burned – the barn I loved to play in seemed to groan in agony as the fire consumed its life, leaving only memories in the ash.

My father endured numerous hardships in his life – as everyone does – but standing by and watching helplessly as that fire burned the barn produced emotions that he rarely displayed. He did not cry, but there was pure agony on his face.

I know how he felt.

It had been many years since the barn had housed animals – and equally long ago that I enjoyed playing games in its safe interior – but it was such a part of my being that I simply could not envision the farm without "the barn." It was supposed to be there always – standing tall, just as it was when my grandpa, Henry Witt, posed in front of its bright red exterior for a photo that my mom, Marcella, took back in the 1930s.

Not so.

It was gone, swiftly and unexpectedly.

To this day when I approach the farm, I picture the barn as it was before that day in August – a landmark that is easily spotted from Pratt Road.

Imagine my surprise, and pleasure, when I learned that a pair of young neighbors were planning to move an "old" barn onto their property – on the opposite side of Pratt Road from the farm. Jason and Jolene Vanneste have a vision for what their Hickory Corner farm will become someday – and it definitely includes a barn.

An old-fashioned barn, with hand-hewn beams and a hayloft where their children, Jack and Anna – and probably several more – will play and create memories, just like mine.

After I visited with the enterprising "farmers" and took some photos of their "new" barn, I drove around the corner onto Forest Hill Road and admired the view of the Vanneste barn from a different perspective – the site where our barn once stood. A flowering crab tree and some of the fieldstone rocks that were part of the barn’s foundation mark that spot today, a memorial of sorts to a structure – and important time in my life.

It’s nice to know that when my family’s farm achieves centennial status next year, we can look across the field and see a barn in the distance – and the potential for a new farm family to create its own memories.

There’s something about a barn.