Alex Tolbert
Association Perspective
Things our fathers built.
They boarded a boat, armed with minimal provisions and more determination than belongings, and set sail with courage to a new land. They set foot on a rich soil and inhabited a land. Through blood, sweat and tears, sacrifice and the will to survive, they built a country. They built a church, where they worshipped God fully, free from the oppression and corruption of their homeland, knowing every provision that nourished them was a gift from Him.
They worked together, with the common good in mind. Failure was no option, so they would grind through differences and compromise, and thus they built a government. They built plantations, they built towns, they built a foundation. More would follow, but what they built, they built to last.
We fast-forward, through the trials of westward expansion, through the mire of a divided nation, and find ourselves just past the roar of the 1920s in the depth of a depression. A time when men and women alike were crushed by the crucible. They were forged by fire — resilient and tough as nails, not so much by choice but out of necessity.
Necessity was the medium by which they made each and every decision: To sell all of their furniture, to watch their children eat while they went without, to lend a helping hand because it was “just what we do.” They were a generation of survivors, crafty and innovative. You worked with what you had. They looked hardship square in the eye and shook hands with loss and depravity.
It was this generation that would build empires. They built bridges. They built buildings that touched the sky. They built families, and they built communities. Men like my granddaddy Joe Ed Tolbert built the homes and the barns, while men like my great uncle Harold led the church in praise and hymns on Sunday morning. It was women like my grandmother Mary Brown who became an unwavering fabric that held these fledgling communities together with warmth and love.
This generation would raise what some call the greatest generation ever, an early member being my aunt Beaulah, who in her young age learned selflessness and compassion. They did it to keep it all going; they did it because they knew it was good and right in the long term. “Measure twice, cut once.” “Do it right the first time.” “Anything worth doing is worth doing right.”
They built factories, they built cars, and they only bought those goods they trusted — brands they knew would last like their own craftsmanship. They built on the foundation that was left to them by their fathers. They made tough decisions, but giving up and starting over never crossed their mind. What they built, they built to last.
I look back on them because this summer wasn’t easy on our family. We laid to rest the remaining pillars of this generation for our family. My great uncle Harold — an oak he was, independent of the world, but dependent on God — passed at the ripe old age of 103. My heart was simultaneously full of joy and broken when my aunt Beulah went home to be with our Lord at age 92. She was the matriarch of our family; she was the matriarch of our community. She embodied Philippians 2:3 (ESV): “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.”
In reflection of them, I think back to my grandfather who lived to 92 and my grandmother who was 93 when she passed. They were all pathfinders to say the least! It’s to them I pay tribute, and maybe more specifically their way of life — simple and sure, loyal and faith-filled, focused on what mattered most. That’s what they left behind; that’s what they left me.
As we continue to expand our herds, make breeding decisions, keep heifers and cull cows, let us keep the long-term in mind. Choose rugged bulls with a solid foundation of structural soundness — big-footed and deep-heeled, with the right angles, the right set to their hind leg and flex in their pasterns — strong enough to get the job done with the genetic makeup capable of making the next generation better than the last. Maybe more importantly, choose mamas built to last and calve on time, every time. Choose those females with the iron will to protect the calf and produce above par. Productivity and longevity — your gut will tell you it’s right.
Artist John Ruskin said, “Therefore, when we build let us think that we build forever. Let it not be for present delight nor for present use alone. Let it be such work as our descendants will thank us for and let us think as we lay stone on stone that a time is to come when these stones will be sacred because our hands have touched them and that men will say as they look upon the labor and the wrought substance of them, ‘See! This our fathers did for us.’ ”
They built a church, they built a nation, they built cities and monuments, they built families and they built communities. They were our fathers, and these are the things they built. What they built, they built to last. As we rebuild our cow herd, as we elect new leadership, let us build things that last. Let us build something for our sons!
Editor’s Note: Alex Tolbert is the regional manager for Region 3, including Kentucky, Ohio and Tennessee. Click here to find the regional manager for your state.
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