VDH Ultra Subscriber

Victor Davis Hanson The American barn was a symbol, its profile a stark reminder that rural America was healthy and raised families as well as food. The old wisdom of my grandfather echoes as the job nears completion, and I begin to get an inkling of what the finished barn will look like: “You can

Victor Davis Hanson In the end, I said “Ok, let’s do it”—just as the latest torrential storm hit (so much for the tired warning that the “drought is not over” as we receive two back-to-back near-record years of rain and snow). Over the last two weeks, all sorts of lumber and materials arrived. Manlifts were

Victor Davis Hanson So, 150 years after the barn’s birth, the last month’s California storms started to flop up the roof sheets again. In one gusty hour, I saw the roofline sway and the barn itself shake. Another far more skilled and imaginative roofer came out who two years ago had saved some of the

Victor Davis Hanson When the almond shakers and sweepers of the surrounding orchards kicked up clouds of dust the floors by this November were 3–4 inches deep in dirt. It was in theory a barn, but so perforated and porous that the inside was not much different from the world outside. About 10 years ago

Victor Davis Hanson I was told by my grandfather (1890–1976) that his grandmother Lucy Anna Davis (1832–1923) when she and her boys arrived by train here from Missouri (ca. 1870–71), bought what is now left of our present farm from the railroad (ca. $4 an acre contingent on improvements made within a set period of