A lifetime ago, I was the new girl at the Co-op. I was continually dazzled and awed by the celebrities that darkened our doors. I’ve seen Phil Fulmer, Bill Landry, countless local politicians, loads of Partons (my favorite is Bobby), and the mule man from Silver Dollar City. Seems like everybody needs the Co-op at one time or another.
But some of the ones I remember the fondest are the ones who aren’t famous at all. There was an old gentleman, always neat, always precise, always cordial, that came in regularly. And to be honest, I was terrified to wait on him. I didn’t want to mess up. He frequently had one or two sons with him, and their presence just added to my nervousness. More witnesses to see me mess up.
One afternoon I didn’t have a choice but to wait on him and his five pound bag of bolts. Gary wasn’t there to bail me out and I had to look up every single size in “The Book”. That’s not the good book, but it is the Co-op Bible. Before the internet, it’s what we had for information. It was like a condensed farming encyclopedia with item numbers, descriptions, pictures, and prices because plenty of Co-ops still wrote hand tickets in the early 2000’s. Anyway, there were several pages of tables for pricing bolts. First you had to know what you had. Is it a carriage bolt? Is it a plow bolt? Is it a hex bolt? Is it bolt at all? Could it be a roofing screw? Or roofing nail? Or finishing nail? (The bottom fell out of a box of those one time on me. What a mess). Is it just a nail? What size? 10 penny? 20? 60? If it’s a hex bolt, is it Grade 5 or Grade 8? Or is it metric? In order to get tax off an item back then, it had to have a precise description. Unfortunately, bolts fell under the catch-all item number of MI1010, Gary’s favorite to this day. Of course these farmers wanted to save every dime they could (who wouldn’t? It’s hard enough out there without pesky taxes) so I was frantically scrambling for sizes and prices and remembering to take the tax off. I would type “MI1010” & the description would say “Misc Farm Equipment”. I would erase that and put in something like “GR5 3/8 x 2 1/2”.

It took an eternity.
These gentlemen never once became frustrated or impatient with me as I asked them sizes when I wasn’t sure how to read my extremely technical little red plastic device. I was flustered, but they tried to assure me they were in no hurry, to take my time and make sure it was right. In the meantime, he cautioned me against drinking anything besides water. This was how it all began.
I came to know the family well. They are highly respected and admired in not only farming circles, but the community. They have a reputable farm and a desire to help anyone they can, whenever they can.
I’m sad to say the father passed away several years ago but he left a lasting impression on me. His son counsels me regularly, and I take his word as gospel. If he told me to start eating lead for digestive health and sleep wrapped up in asbestos, I probably would.
I do tease him about having a pet dinosaur as a kid and tell me about creating fire just one more time but I do love him dearly. There are few people I regard so highly and am so determined to please. He’s an extremely busy man but has never been too busy to talk to me. We’ve ironed out some dilemmas over the years and walked a few miles figuratively and physically. He’s one of my most trusted advisors and I’ve gained a wealth of knowledge by knowing him. I’ll never be able to repay him for everything he’s taught me, but I’m thankful to count him as a friend. I’ve found that usually the best people are the ones who are the most humble. And you’ll find no one less willing to brag on himself than Mr. Sarten.

Today is his birthday. I hope you all have the pleasure of at least meeting Mr. Sarten if you don’t already know him. And I hope he has a wonderful birthday.