He was young when the automobiles came out. It was the new thing, especially in the far off city, and many economic opportunities arose. Many if the families in he Rural lived nearly independent of the city. They grew or traded for all their food, built their houses, wove their clothes, and created their own fuel. Of course no one family did so alone. Even so, some found opportunity in digging for fuel to aid the automobiles. But the boy’s father, Father T., chose not to. That was his youthful mistake.

Some time later, a harsh winter made a large portion of the Rural’s area temporarily unfruitful. Some men came from the city saying they would take willing people to a bog  owned by the state to dig peat unaffected by the lowering temperatures. After a few weeks of struggling to survive, Father T. decided to join. By doing so, he and his family were able to survive.

When the winter effects and offer ended, the soldiers returned to their cared-for families. With their aching backs, he diggers of the Rural took a short, but well deserved, rest, except for Father T.

Father T. remembered the suffering and sadness in his family’s eyes as they lacked money and food. He never wanted to see them like that again.

He came home and continued digging for peat. By this time, his son was doing all the digging for food. That allowed Father T. to focus on extracting and selling the fuel. Sometimes people came and watched him gorge the earth constantly. “Hey th’re Mr. T.! Haven’t ya ‘ad enough from the state’s bog? You dug more than all us there.” That’s the type of statements that were made toward Father T., but he casted them all aside. He kept digging. And so did his son.

The boy remembered the first automobiles. He remembered the intense winter. He remembered his father’s determination. And he remembers the promise he made to his future family.

In modeling his father, the man dug whatever he could. As automobiles developed and attempted other sources for fuel, turf became slightly less popular. His main pursuit was his potatoes. And just like his Father T., Mr. C. made sure his family was in constant care.

The story of Father T. was continued amongst the people of the Rural; the man who cut more turf in a day than any other man on the State’s bog. Mr. C. often took his son to see their Father T.’s unfailing strength. Mr. C. did not mind his son’s hobby for writing. But he wanted his son to know what it took to ensure his family’s comfort; what it took to be a man.