The year was 1925. The year of Jazz and Flappers and the depression was about to set in. Adolf Hitler published his book, “Mein Kampf” and Howard Hughes moved to Hollywood to being his movie-making career. The first television was being built and, to us, God blessed us with Roger Lawson - better known to all as Stormy.

Stormy was raised with four sisters on a small farm just outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. He grew up knowing what it means to work hard and to appreciate the hard tasks of agricultural life and to have inborn fondness for NEBRASKA and the Nebraska Cornhuskers. He is a current season ticket holder for the Husker women’s softball team and the women’s basketball team, and has been for thirty years. He was a season ticket holder for the football team, too, but being a dedicated harvester, he passed those tickets on to his daughter. He never missed a game. He was once offered $200 for a pair of tickets to the football game, during a blizzard, and would not give up the seats that he and his former wife held. At that time, that amount of money would have paid the rent for four months. Every time he crosses the Nebraska border he rolls his window down so he can breathe the fresh air of God’s country.

While still in high school, he decided to become a “wheatie”. He went on harvest with Valentine Harvesting of Hastings, NE. The first two summers that he worked for Valentine Harvesting, they had pull-type Gleaner combines that they would load into the back of their trucks. These trucks were two-ton single axle Chevy’s. They did not make tandems yet. The last three years, he states, they modernized a bit and bought self-propelled Massey-Harris machines. They did travel from north Texas clear into Canada. They did not have the luxuries that we have now. They slept under the trucks with their bedrolls. If it rained, they would climb into the back of the trucks and pray there were no holes in the tarp. The third year there, they bought a bunkhouse that provided a roof over their heads, out of the weather and that was about all, but it was better than the ground. Of course, it is nothing like the harvesting of today with our fancy motels and campers.

In 1948, Stormy went to work for Goodyear, working there fulltime until 1960. When he would get home in the evening and on weekends, he would farm with his father. In 1961, Stormy started a new job. He started a career with the Lincoln Housing Authority in Lincoln, NE. He still worked with his father on the farm. He and his father had their own custom business, cutting crops locally. His main crop was milo. In 1971, he bought his own machine, a BRAND NEW International 503. His father sold the farm and retired in 1975, thus ending his own harvesting operation. While working for the Housing Authority, he made quite an impression during his 29 years of service, ending his career as the Housing Authority Superintendant of Operations. In a tribute written about Stormy in 1990, upon his retirement, it states: There are several qualities in a person that generate admiration and respect from others. During the 1960’s, the maintenance of the housing units at Arnold Heights, formerly referred to as Huskerville, had been sadly neglected. An organized maintenance program was lacking. Materials were disappearing. Many housing units had leaky basements and were uninhabitable. The tenants were restless and angry. The situation called for prompt action. Stormy pursued his responsibilities with vision and vigor. He is a self-started who does not require oversight to provide a one-hundred-percent effort in everything he does. The maintenance building at Arnold Heights serves as a fitting example of Stormy's efforts. The commission annually held meetings in the storage room. You could eat off the floor. All of the materials are properly stored in pilferage-proof spaces, where they are thoroughly organized, catalogued, and subject to accountability. As with most government jobs, Stormy was asked to retire in 1990 at the young age of 65.
Stormy stayed home for two years, fixing his own houses, building a garage and seeing his youngest daughter off in marriage. He then decided he needed a career change. Stormy put an ad in the High Plains Journal looking for a harvesting company to drive for. He said he narrowed the operators down to twenty. He went and visited these twenty places. Of course, he has been an awesome storyteller all his life and if you get the chance, you should get his version of this great undertaking. One of the biggest determinants on choosing a company to work for was that the harvester had to stay in motels so he would have a clean bed to sleep in every night, space to move around and not listen to too much snoring or loud young men. Several harvesters were not interested in Stormy because they felt he was too old - too old for what, we’re not sure. He found Oetting Harvesting of Sylvan Grove, KS. He liked their family and their work ethic. That was in 1992. He plans on heading south with them again this May - at the ripe age of 81. This will be his sixteenth year going with Oetting Harvesting. He knows he cannot do many of the mechanical things that the younger guys might be able to do, so he compensates for this by doing more of the things he can do - like getting everyone out of bed in the morning, greasing every combine, and paying for everyone’s dinner now and again.

Stormy mentioned he did not want to live in campers with all those young boys. He did not have to worry about the boys; he got a girl as a roommate. We could not believe this man of 67 didn’t mind rooming with a woman. Then we found out why. He had four sisters - no brothers - and then he had five (yes, five) daughters and no sons. He also raised a neighbor girl. One of his famous quotes is that he knows more about bras and panties than any man should. And, his idea of raising these six young women included putting all six of them through college and helping them whenever the need would arise. Yes, that also included six trips down the aisle. His daughters surprised him on his eightieth birthday with what they call, “Dad and His Daughter’s Day”. Four of them picked him up in a limo and went on a journey. They relived their past by visiting the house they were raised in, finding the fifth daughter there, which he had not seen in some time. They then took him to the Husker softball field, Bowlin Stadium, and on the way showed a video the team had made especially for him for his birthday. They went to the Devaney Center, home of the Husker women’s basketball team, and were welcomed by eight team members for a round of basketball. One of the members he shot hoops with always pats the coach’s son’s head for good luck, but that afternoon it was Stormy’s head that was patted.

We all have many stories about our harvest experiences and I have a couple about Stormy. The summer of 1992 was a wet one. We arrived in Texas only to sit for three weeks. I think we cut a total of 80 acres in Texas. To while away the hours, we played cards, basketball, drove around a bit, practiced driving (those that had never driven a tandem), and ate lots of food. Stormy would study the combine manual every chance he got because he was a combine operator - not just a driver - and I cleaned windows. We were all ready to head for the house so we hollered at Stormy on the radio. Those that know Stormy, know he does everything with gusto - ninety to nothing. He put his manual down, and headed out the door of his combine, forgetting or, not realizing, the door was closed. Stormy knocked himself out. We kept hollering. We went to check on him and found him just coming to. Ever since then, you will know which machine is his, he keeps a big “X” on his door to let himself know if it is open or closed. Texas is known for its breakfast pickles. Everyone there knows you use the juice off them to put on your eggs. Stormy was convinced they were not hot, with the help of Keith Oetting, because he could eat hot foods and not be bothered. Stormy could have bathed in the sweat that rolled off his head that day. He also found that if you see a fire ant hill, you do not stop to kick at it while taking a break from the road. They crawl up pant legs and when you are in the back seat of a vehicle, it is hard to jump out quick to get ants out of your pants. Modesty was nowhere to be found that day. Of course, his place in the pickup is behind the driver’s seat holding onto the seat belt - everyone knows that and no one should take his seat - it has been his for fifteen years. Stormy has lost his sheep, too. He had directions to turn west at a field of sheep and go three miles to the wheat field in his combine. When he got to the corner, where the sheep were, he never found the sheep - they had moved over the hill out of sight and Stormy kept going south. We did finally find him, about ten miles farther south - almost out of radio range.

Stormy has had some ups and downs, too, during his career of being a stubble stomper. He never drank water, said it would either kill you or keep you in the “john”, until 1993 when he had sever kidney stones and he passed out and spent time in the hospital. He also suffered from a heart attack in 1998. He was extremely upset over this, not because he was ill, but that he missed going to Texas. He did manage to operate a combine that year, but not until August when Oettings arrived in the Dakotas.

When fall comes and the weather starts to get chilly, he can hear his recliner calling. He loves the people, everyone in the café’s and the sale barns across the Midwest that visit with him during the mealtime, the elevator operators that see him bringing in a sample, the farmers that he cuts for, Harold, the tire man in Martin, the motel owners and the maids he enjoys harassing. He has left his mark - a big mark for the better! We love you, Stormy. Hope to see you along the way - somewhere - for many years to come!