Last week we talked about Bax and Zoe taking over the calf feeding duties. That opening was created when our long-time employee (basically a family member at this point) had to retire. Steve has been a part of Carlton Farms all my life, and the vast majority of his. I remember running around this farm as a boy and being enamored by the sheer strength this man possessed. It was normal for me to be impressed; I was just a little boy. I knew something was different about him when grown adults would visit the farm and seem just as astonished as I was. Here are a few things I remember that left visitors (and us) wide-eyed.

The size of his hands. Upon an initial handshake, you knew you were in the presence of a mountain-sized man. When I would run into anyone in town who had recently met Steve, his hands were the first topic of conversation. A common first reaction was for a grown adult to hold out both hands side by side and say, "His hands are as big as both of mine."
Loading Hay. Thankfully, we bought a round hay bailer when I was in middle school, but before that, we would store roughly 10,000 of the small square bales of hay each year. Steve mastered the art of hay hauling and used it to demonstrate his strength to others. I remember loading hay from the field onto our silage truck with tall side-planks. Most people would simply hoist the bale up at the back of the truck, where there were no side-planks. Not Steve. He would just throw the bale over the side plank of the truck, which was approximately 10 feet from the ground. He would do this over and over until the truck was full. However, if someone stopped by to visit, Steve liked to show off a little. He would "accidentally" throw a bale over the side plank, clear over the truck, and the opposite side-plank, and it would land on the opposite side of the truck. This was a 60 lb bale of hay, y'all. It was impressive to watch.
Stacking Hay. When the truck got back to the barn, we then had to stack the hay. Steve could throw a bale from the truck and make it land in its perfect orientation on the stack. We were right there with him unloading and stacking, but he could be a one-man bale stacker when he needed to be.
The most impressed I have ever been by Steve's strength, I personally witnessed with my own eyes when I was the only one there to see. We were working in the shop, and some piece of equipment somewhere needed a battery. I pointed at a battery in the corner of the shop and informed Steve that that was a good battery. As he left to go back to the equipment needing a battery, he bent over and PALMED the car battery, lifting it and walking away with it. To this day, I have no idea how any human could have enough strength in his hand to palm a car battery, but Steve did.

There are many, many more stories. As we discuss Steve's retirement over the next few weeks, I may revisit this topic as more memories are stirred.

Steve's knees no longer let him get around well, and the strength I remember being otherworldly now exists only in very fond memories. Steve's spirit, however, has remained unchanged. He is, and has always been, a gentle giant. I have never known him to be aggressive or even angry toward anyone. Steve is simply kind and friendly. If we are fortunate to be here long enough, time catches up to us all. We can't outrun it, and even Steve couldn't overpower it. In retirement, his spirit will be as strong as his body ever was. I look forward to the stories and memories we all share as we celebrate the retirement of Steve, who is like nothing less than an extra son to my parents, and has been much like a brother to my siblings and me. Have a Happy Retirement Steve.