Paean to the Past: Barn

The barn was one of the aspects of Owl Acres that drew me to the place. It’s old, proudly flaunting its birthdate—1915—in big white numbers on its red front.

 The brothers who farmed the land around Owl Acres in 1915 probably used local timber to build the barn. They had a sawmill powered by a steam engine to cut the logs and shape the beams. To build the barn, they used a set of special-purpose timber framing tools and techniques. Each beam was hewn to size by hand and carefully carved so that it could be fit to its neighbors. Each fit included a square hole chiseled into a beam, and a matching square peg left standing on the neighboring beam. The holes are called mortises, and the pegs are the tenons.

They didn’t use any nails or other hardware for the framing—just the mortises and tenons, with wooden pegs driven into the joints to secure them. They put the frame together like a giant puzzle. Over 100 years later, that timber framing stands solid and true.  The barn stands about three stories high with a footprint of 24 by 48 feet. It sits on a poured concrete foundation wall, enclosing a dirt floor. The siding is typical board and batten. Wide planks were nailed vertically to the timber frame. Where two planks met, a gap was left and a thin strip of wood was added on the outside to cover the seam. Inside, a hay floor or “hay mow” formed a second story above the dirt floor. To reach the hay mow, they nailed boards to the frame to form a permanent ladder.

The barn was built with two specific purposes. First and foremost, it was designed to store hay and keep it dry. Ventilation was critical for both drying and preserving the hay. That’s why there’s a cupola on top of the barn. In the warm months, the hot air rises and flows out of the louvers on the cupola. It helps draw air up and out of the barn, keeping the hay dry. Dry hay won’t mold.  Although hay bales have been stored in the barn in recent years, originally the hay stored there was loose. High in the gables, a hay door opened onto a hay transport system consisting of a large grappling hook traveling on a track. With ropes to control it, the farmers used the grappling hook to grab a bunch of hay from a strategically placed wagon, lift it up, carry it into the barn and deposit it in the hay mow. When it was time to feed the cows, the hay was forked through a hole in the floor directly into the manger below where the cows could munch it while they were being milked.

Second, the barn was designed to manage the milking process. The cows would be driven into the barn twice a day for milking. 21 milk cows could be stationed in the milking parlor at one time to facilitate the milking. Their heads would be captured in the stanchions, giving them access to the hay that was pitched down from the hay mow. The cows would munch away while they were milked, and then sent back out into the nearby pasture. Day in and day out, the milking routine would have tied the family to the farm. The cows had to be milked every twelve hours. The milk might have been sold to a local dairy. It would have been cooled and stored in the milk house awaiting collection by the dairy. Some would have been diverted to the house, where the cream would be skimmed, and some of the milk kept for drinking. Some of the cream might be used on oatmeal or peaches. The rest would be churned into butter and buttermilk. The skimmed milk would be fed to the hogs. The work would have been relentless, but the results would be a rich and nourishing table.

One of the 21 milking stanchions in the ground floor milking parlor. The stanchion’s latch bar is up, permitting nearby board to swing sideways and let the cow’s head through. After, the board is swung back and locked by the bar. The cow is secured with her head over the feed trough, and she stays calm for milking. Author photo.

The barn hasn’t been used for milking in decades. In recent years, it has been used for storing bales of hay for the neighbors’ horses. And now, even that use has ceased.

When I first saw the barn, I wanted to convert it into my house. I made elaborate plans for constructing a balcony overlooking the hay floor, laying out a kitchen, living room and bedrooms. The lower level where the milking parlor had been could be used for more living space with some work. Removing all the old stanchions; adding wiring, plumbing, insulation, re-siding. It would be a beautiful paean to Iowa’s rural life. I found a young architect interested in the project and went to the bank for a construction loan. No, they said. We won’t lend you the money. Too risky. And the architect—it would take too much work to get what you want. Darn! But, oh well—plan B. I’ll build a new house instead. So the barn, with a new metal roof to protect it from the elements, stands forlorn and unused on the east edge of Owl Acres.

Except it is not abandoned or unused by many residents of Owl Acres. A red-tailed hawk sits on the cupola sometimes to scan the world for prey. A colony of bats shelters high up on the beams. Mice, packrats, raccoons, and skunks find it to be a perfect shelter for the winter.

Feature photo by Author.  Alt text: The 1915 red barn on Owl Acres. Weathered, board-and-batten siding and green metal roof. Four-sided cupola with louvered panels perches on top. The roof has a sharp, pointed extension over the east gable, housing the track for the hay conveyor and providing partial cover for the large hay doors.