Constructed of materials such as 2x6’s and 2x10’s which in reality aren’t and held in place by pressure plates and covered by cold tin, they can never match the lofty old barns once built by communiuty bees. Huge timbers, notched and held by foot long pegs and covered by tongue and groove boards have easily proven their ability to outlast the newer facilities. After every heavy snow fall or ice storm they still stand towering over the land, a testament to their superior construction and strength, while their newer cousins suffer problems and calamities such as roofs collapsing.

Now, though, many old barns are facing their end at the hands of farmers who find them unprofitable and archaic in a "bigger is better" mentality. Locally, we have noticed six barns demolished this year as well as two old farm houses razed, all leaving holes in the countryside.

With one exception, the barns were all probably a century old and all but one were still standing square. That one has had an awe inspiring lean to it for the past twenty or more years. Every spring we expect to see it leveled, stabled horses and all, but no, there it would be, defying both nature and gravity. It withstood the Ice Storm and the heavy snow falls until its demise last summer.

These barns were once the pride and joy of their owners, housing the dairy herd, a couple of teams of horses, maybe some sheep or pigs. As dairying became a controlled industry the non-bovine residents would have been moved out and the herd expanded into their space. A small milk house with a cement tank to cool the cans, then enlarged for an electric can cooler and, finally a bulk tank. Each step up the rung of mechanization would have been undertaken with kitchen table discussions, "Shall we....., shan’t we....". Eventually the decision to stop was made and the auctioneer’s gavel marked the end.

The family gone, the farm would sell to a neighbour as he expanded. The house and barn, surplus to the new owner, would either be severed and sold with a few acres to a newcomer or rented. The latter was usually the beginning of the end for the old buildings as a series of tenants came and went without any care to maintenance.
 The barns, now empty and unused, would slowly deteriorate: broken panes of glass never replaced, hinges rusted and wore, doors hung crooked, tin loosened and flapped in the winds allowing the rain and snow to enter and rot the wood beams. Weeds freely grew around the outside and, for sure, at least one Manitoba Maple forced its roots into the foundation.

In time, they became a liability and an eyesore, unused and uncared for. Probably it was almost an act of kindness to demolish them and bulldoze the foundations. They went quietly, there one week, gone the next, some beams and barn board hopefully salvaged.

The two farm houses went with much more flare. Both owners cited tenant problems and upkeep as reasons to be rid of buildings which were once the heart of flourishing farms. In their passing they provided training for the local volunteer Fire Departments. Tankers from three stations ferried water pumped from the local river, dumping it in portable pools where it was hosed on to adjacent buildings to prevent them from igniting.

The first house gave up a secret during its burning, it had originally been a log house, but covered by boards, sidings and panels over the years. Having resurrected and restored an almost two hundred year old log house on our original farm and knowing the warmth and coziness of these dwellings, it seemed a shame that this one had no savior.

At the second house, its red brick outer walls stood proud and tall against the roaring flames ...... until a backhoe pushed them over, sending sparks and embers skyward. No more families, no more livestock, no more memories, just the end.

And so, another one bites the dust.....................