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Farm & Ranch Happenings

published: February 5th 2010
by: Harvey Buehring

“A Memorable Trip To The Sale Barn”

A lot of things have changed in the cattle industry during the past fifty years. And yet, a whole lot has remained the same.   I can remember when I was about 9 or 10 years old, my granddad taking me for my first visit to a livestock auction barn.

It was a big trip for a young country boy. The auction barn was located about 20 miles from grandpa’s place, on the south side of our county seat. We left after morning feeding chores were completed.   Grandma usually accompanied grandpa when he got their  black 1951 Chevy four door sedan out of the shed for trips to the nearby town about 5 miles away.  She shopped for groceries and dry goods while he went to the feed and hardware stores.  For this particular trip she opted to stay home but provided a short list of items that required stops at the J. C. Penny and Sears and Robuck stores.   Her parting reminder to Grandpa was to not forget to feed me lunch and not to loose track of time at the sale barn because evening  chores needed to be done before dark.  

It  was indeed a memorable day for me.  After taking care of Grandma’s list at the two catalog stores we headed to the sale barn.   This trip occurred in the early summer around 1956 or ‘57.  It was in what I often refer to as the “B.G.” era.  For you younger readers, “B.G.” means “Before Goosenecks”.

I remember looking over the large parking lot in front to the big tin barn.  It was nearly filled with an assortment of half-ton step-side pickup trucks, many outfitted with wooden side-boards for hauling livestock.  I also noticed many single axle stock trailers,  some attached to pickup trucks, and a few others hooked to the back bumper of cars.  Among the larger vehicles were about a half dozen old bobtail trucks with wooden side boards coated with layers of  manure and a couple of single deck trailer-trucks at the loading docks.    I always loved big trucks so grandpa let me get a close up look.

I was anxious to make my way to the double screen door front entrance, but  Grandpa said we needed to see what was for sale before the auction started.   So we headed around the side of the building to the covered pens.  It was the loudest cattle bellering and pig squealing I had ever heard.  Then we made our way up the stairway where he introduced me to the cat walk.  At the top of the stairs he bent down to share a few words of warning about watching my feet, staying away from the edge and holding his hand as we made our way across the cat walk. He occasionally stopped when something of interest caught his eye.

We saw some examples of most every type of livestock: high headed hump-back cows with sharp horns and excitement in their eyes, old gentle milk cows, calves of all colors and sizes, and a dwarf- looking white face bull calf panting in the mid-day heat.  They were all part of the offering along the first alleyway.  We made our way across to the other side of the barn were the pens where devoted to horses, mules, sheep, goats and pigs.  

After viewing the auction offerings of the day, we finally made our way into the auction barn through the back door.  I was impressed to see the rows of seats that rose at least 15 feet above the half-circle pen made of thick pipe rails.  I wanted to climb to the top and get a birdseye view until Grandpa derailed that notion by asking if I was hungry enough to eat a hamburger.   We made our way into the Sale Barn Café after a brief detour to the wash room.  Grandpa placed me on a swivel stool at the counter and ordered a couple of hamburgers.   They were great! Fresh off the grill, hot and juicy.  The kind that takes a couple of napkins to keep your chin dry until you put down the last wonderful bite.  Incidently, it is the only time I can remember my grandfather ever eating in a restaurant. From the café we could hear the load speakers let out a couple of squeals and then a voice announcing that the sale was about to begin.   The folks at the tables in the café started getting up and paying the lady at the counter for their meals.   When we finally got into the sale pavilion, the first three rows of more comfortable cushion seats were taken by older gentlemen that were wearing felt hats, many chewing on cigars and all carrying a card with a number sticking out of their shirt pockets.   About that time gates starting clanging, livestock began moving into the ring and dust starting churning in front of the crowd. The man at the microphone began rapidly chanting numbers while pointing at the men who were nodding their heads or moving the cards in their hands.  

Grandpa instructed me to sit still, keep my hands on the edge of the bench and watch what was happening.  After four to five minutes of observing what appeared to be a whole lot of organized confusion, my grandpa began explaining what was going on.   After a while I asked, “ When are you going to raise your hand, Grandpa?”   He told me that he didn’t come to buy,  he came to see what the buyers were willing to pay.  If prices were good he might bring something to sell next week.       

I am sure that Grandpa got more than his fair share of questions from me on that 20 mile trip to the auction barn and about twice as many on the way home.  It was indeed an educational trip for me.   As we were walking out of the sale barn after an hour or two inside, my ears had a slight ring.   Grandpa, an observant man of few words, took a few minutes before starting the car to explain that studying the parking lot could tell you a lot about the crowd inside.

He said that the late model cars parked under the shade trees belonged to the big cattle order buyers.  The old bobtail trucks belonged to the cattle traders who look for bargain stocker cows and thin heifers to put out on pasture and bring back to sell when they got in better shape or the market moved up.   The pickups with side-boards belonged to small stock farmers who dropped off a few head of calves, sheep or pigs and were waiting around to get their checks when the sale was over.  The pickups pulling those  trailers were likely to be meat market or locker plant owners looking for fat butcher calves or a couple of hogs for processing.  

I nodded and then I asked about those cars that were pulling trailers.  He replied,” they probably belong to farmers like me who only have one vehicle. So if you need some money to buy feed or planting seed and are lucky enough to have a few head of stock to sell, then you use what you have to get them to the auction barn.

Grandpa’s wisdom and the sites, sounds and smells of that day made a lasting impression.   Today’s sale barns are air conditioned, their offices are computerized, many have digital displays showing the animals’ weights.  Most livestock auctions have their own web sites and promptly post their weekly market sale prices as well as share that information with livestock publications and farm and ranch broadcasters.   With the  exception that sale barn parking lots of today are filled with nicely equipped heavy-duty pickups pulling gooseneck trailers driven by stockmen carrying pocket phones, the sites, sounds, and aroma, as well as the characters that make-up the crowd assembled on sale day have changed very little during the past 50 years.