Turning right on Ivey-Weaver Road off North Jefferson Street held surprises for me. Never would I have imagined finding real farm animals so close to the city. But there they were, cows and horses, grazing lazily. I turned in the driveway, exited the car, and was greeted with great anticipation by Mr. Tiny Ivey. I was soon comfortably seated and ready to hear his story.
Do you know who Flannery O'Connor was? She is a writer who lived in Milledgeville on a farm called Andalusia, across from the Holiday Inn. One of her many stories was called "The Displaced Person", which included a worker on a farm who was killed by a tractor.
Well, a movie was being made from this story. The filmmakers from New York decided to film from Flannery's country home, Andalusia. Everything needed to be as authentic-looking as possible for the 1930s period, even the tractor.
After they looked over several local tractors, mine was rented for the film. The film crew didn't want to pay much for renting my tractor. Even though I knew they were making big money on the movie, they didn't want to pay me much for my services.
They asked if they could paint my tractor to look more like a tractor in the '30s. Of course, I agreed. But being city folks, they didn't know anything about painting a tractor. They would glob on paint like little children do. Even city people should know how to paint. As a result, the tractor became a yellowish-orange color, resembling nothing of the tractors of the past. Old tires were put on, and even old batteries were put in. This made no sense to me because the tractors of the past had no batteries.
Once the filming started, problems with the tractor came from every direction. From changing flat tires and dead batteries to simply cranking the tractor, problems occurred. They didn't have a clue as to what to do. They tried to start the tractor with the blades engaged. However, it would never crank. They would call me in to fix these problems. As soon as I'd get home, they would call me back. I was constantly getting phone calls. I had to go there so much it became comical. You'd think those educated city folks would know something, or at least use some common sense once in a while. It was ironic. They were coming down here to film a story about uneducated, simple folks, and they couldn't operate the simplest of equipment.
After fixing a particular problem, I was always hurried off the set so I couldn't see anything, only to be called back again. After all that fiasco, we never saw the movie. But a librarian friend in Ohio said she saw the movie, including our tractor, and she said it was pretty darn good. If you're wondering what happened to the tractor, I sold it.