Floyd Orlando Lamb

Floyd Orlando Lamb

Floyd Orlando Lamb

1/14/1913 – 10/7/1952

God said, “Honor your father and mother” that your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God gives you.

And the ancient Egyptians believed that so long as a person’s name was uttered, that person lived.

So, while I still yet can, I would like to place my father’s name “In Memoriam” so that readers may know of him and speak the name Floyd “Nubbins” Lamb, a native son of Belle Plaine, who died under a corn picker on Oct. 7, 1952, on his 160-acre farm near Haven, leaving a widow and two sons, ages 10 and 15.

A young man of 39 at the time, a husband, father and friend, he went through difficult times during the Depression to become a highly successful farmer and salesman for Archer Oil.

He drank deep from the cup of life and enjoyed every sip. He loved to sing, to dance, to hunt, to fish, to farm, to joke, to spend time with his family, and to celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas with his 8 siblings and 20 nephews and nieces at his parents’ home outside Belle Plaine.

He loved to ride horses and bought horses for his sons. He loved his family and friends and was loved and respected by all in return.

He never was heard to argue, fight, use harsh words or language with our mother.

He taught me to be hardworking and honest, to respect and support friends and neighbors, to serve my community and country to the best of my abilities, to do right by others and to try to be a good father.

He fought in no wars, but he was a hero to me and left his mark on me. In his own way, he made the world a little better.

He left us all too soon with no chance to say goodbye but has always been in my thoughts and prayers and always will be as long as I live.

God grant that I might be remembered as fondly by my children and grandchildren.

Farmers and farm wives take note: one week before his death, Floyd wanted to buy life insurance, but mother talked him out of it, saying she didn’t want money if something happened to him. BIG MISTAKE! When Floyd died, hard times fell on our family. We could not afford even a small Christmas tree for two years. I suffered from PTSD for the next ten years and mother felt compelled to marry a neighboring bachelor to help on the farm who, at age 41, was not accustomed to having others around, especially another man’s sons. He once kicked me so hard that my tail bone hurt for three months.

Ours was not an exceptional story: According to a 2020 University of Missouri Extension report titled Farming: The most dangerous job in the U.S., “Each year, more people die while farming than while serving as police officers, firefighters or other emergency responders. Tractor rollovers are the leading cause of farm deaths. Farm fatalities deliver a crushing blow to families.” “Pennsylvania State Cooperative Extension reports that 7 in 10 farms go out of business within a year of a fatal tractor rollover.”

So, with harvest time here, the most dangerous time of the year for farmers, be careful, think of your families, your wife and your children.

I thank again the 75 neighbors who finished bringing in the corn and the 500 people who attended Floyd’s funeral in Chelsea on Oct. 10, 1952. Their support and sympathy helped sustain us in a difficult time. Like Floyd, they and their deeds are not forgotten.

I also thank the many readers who over the years responded with kind notes of condolence which were appreciated more than they will ever know and enabled me to establish contact with one childhood friend and make new friends, including one who drove from Cedar Rapids to Vining to put flowers on my father’s grave.

At my age, this may be the last time you see this “In Memoriam” to my father, but I have the names and contact data for some who responded so kindly and if I ever make it back to Iowa, I will invite them to a “Friends of Floyd” dinner in Amana.

Floyd rests in the Czech National Cemetery near Vining. His grave is near the exit on the west side of the road, shaded by the tall, beautiful spruce trees that line the road through the cemetery.

Honor your father and mother while you can. We do not always get to say goodbye properly. And like Floyd, live life to its fullest and treat your family well so that you will be remembered long and kindly when you

are gone.

-Dennis Lamb

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