Mr. Wright had actually done the grading in former days when he was more active, but he relinquished this particular chore reluctantly as he absolutely loved grading. What he previously used was an old antique mechanism that had four wheels, a steel platform on which to stand, two large controlling wheels to change the tile of a large blade that was more or less centered between the aforementioned four wheels. There were other controls to raise and lower the main blade as well. The contraption didn't even have an engine; it had to be pulled by a tractor, and not only had it not been sold for scrap, this was the apparatus I had been assigned to use. While grading the roads you had to be certain to allow for rain water to drain away from earth that might cause water to pond, and as you got close to cattle guards that kept the fellowship cows in their proper fields, you had to make certain that your grading made a smooth transition to these iron grates in the road. It was a demanding job, but at the same time, it was fun.

One day while I was grading the road just over the hillock between Hillside and Midway, and being pulled by another apprentice on the tractor, who do I see in his suit and pork pie hat, but Mr. Wright. He had been strolling from Hillside to our jobsite to ascertain the quality of the work in progress. We were doing fine until he showed up. He began to raise his hand and wave his cane with the other to direct the blade to accomplish what he wanted. The trouble was there is no way the blade will move as fast as a cane. You frantically spin the large controlling wheels but the gear ratio is such it takes a bit of time for the reaction to take place. Meanwhile Mr. Wright is giving you more directions with his cane, somewhat like a conductor of an orchestra, do this, do that, and do something else, while the blade does what it wants to do. The tractor made so much noise, his voice wasn't getting to me, and his gestures with hand and cane were not at all clear to me, and he would shout again something that I could not hear, and then go back to conducting again. Finally after eight to ten minutes of whirling his cane, he was exasperated enough to turn and walk back to Hillside. It was also frustrating for me to be in that situation, I was trying to do what he wanted, but the blade would not cooperate with his assistance. After he was off the job, we did a nice job in reshaping the roads.

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