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4Lewis, Vigo Co. (596.05)when, in my mid-teens, I could actually shoulder one of those sacks and carry it into our waiting GMC truck.What I remember most is the saga of our tonand-a-half Jimmy truck, with me at the wheel, driving up that elevator. First, I should point out that the way a farmer delivered his grain in Libertyville was to drive his truck up and around the very tall elevator shaft and dump his load at the top. Let me emphasize that the pathway to the top was a narrow circular incline that wound tightly around the outside of the elevator shaft all the way up. At the top, the grain was dumped and distributed, according to classification, through a maze of tubes into a variety of bins below. Then, one had that winding, tortuous return trip down. Heaven help you if the brakes or clutch gave away.It is impossible to adequately describe this experience in words. One needed to be behind the wheel to understand. Picture, if you can, this incline, winding upward in a dimly lit passageway that was only slightly wider than the truck bed itself. The continuous winding nature of the incline left little or no room on either side of the truck for error. A scar or two on the side of our truck gave testimony to my occasional misjudgment. Adding to one%u2019s nervousness was the fact that the floor of the incline consisted of wide oak planks, with two-inch intervals between each, to let spilled grain or dirt fall through the cracks to the ground below%u2014far below. It took discipline not to glance out the side window of the cab and be reminded that, as you were creeping upward, the ground was several stories below. The first few round trips were frightening. Thereafter, each was challenging, even though you drove the