FARMING IS IN HIS BLOOD

John Fred Seabaugh, seated, and his sister Jane in the mid-1950s with a 1942 Ford tractor which is still in use on the farm.

Among numerous items from the farm's past are a whiskey bottle dated 1898, a number of photos and an electric dvice designed to remedy nerve afflictions.

John Fred and his sister Jane pose for a photo during a summertime visit.

The farm John Seabaugh works is as much a part of his family and its history as Seabaugh himself.

The farm, located off Route K between Gordonville and Cape Girardeau, was first occupied by Seabaugh's great-great grandfather Henry Grossheider in 1865 and has been named by the University of Missouri Extension as a Century Farm, a designation reserved for land which has been actively farmed by the same family for 100 years or more.

Seabaugh began farming with his grandfather Fred Grossheider in 1978 and is proud of the heritage of the land.

"I think it means something to have that family connection because you are able to look back and realize some of the difficulties of the generations that came before you and appreciate some of the modern conveniences like running water and lights," said Seabaugh. He and his wife Joyce and their children Julie and Bryan live on the farm in a home built by great grandfather Albert Grossheider around the turn of the century.

Casper Grossheider, Seabaugh's great-great-great grandfather, immigrated to the United States from Germany, settling at Friedheim in Perry County in 1839. Casper's son Henry purchased the land near Gordonville in 1865 and set to work shaping the land into a farm plot.

In ensuing years, Grossheiders have continued to raise livestock and crops on the land. Henry passed the farm on to great grandfather Albert Grossheider, who built the sturdy two-story frame home which still stands overlooking Route K from atop a slight rise.

Seabaugh's grandfather Fred Grossheider took over the farm in 1936. Fred Grossheider's stint on the farm saw it produce both milk and row crops.

This is the period Seabaugh remembers best as it was the time of his childhood. He and his sister Jane would visit the farm on weekends and more frequently throughout the summer. One picture from the family album shows the pair on a small Ford tractor Fred Grossheider bought in 1952 and which is still used, housed in a hay barn he built during the 1950s. Another photo shows one of the children on a tricycle near the pond just behind the house.

Fred Grossheider spent almost all of his life on the farm, leaving only to serve his country during World War I and for granddaughter Jane's wedding.

"After World War I, the only time my grandfather spend a night off the farm was for my sister's wedding," said Seabaugh, explaining that Fred Grossheider's dairy operation required a lot of work and left Fred with little opportunity to get away for much more than a day trip to St. Louis.

"My grandpa milked every day and never missed a day whether he was sick or not," said a proud Seabaugh.

The Grossheider farm of the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s was a self-sufficient one, like many of the farms of that time.

"When I was growing up, all of the farmers had chickens and livestock and a big garden," he said. "The farms were self-sufficient; my grandma and grandpa never worked away from the farm but today, it's pretty hard to make a living as a farmer."

Seabaugh now works with an excavating company during the winter months while his wife is a teacher in Scott City.

He developed his interest in agriculture during his days on the farm as a child. After farming with his grandfather for a number of years, Seabaugh took over the operation in 1990, exactly 125 years after Casper Grossheider first set foot on the farm.

The farm remains an amalgamation of things contributed by previous generations. Until a windstorm in 1980, a log barn measuring 120 feet long and 60 feet wide sat near the house, built by one of the Grossheider men. Just beyond the former site of the log barn is a long concrete dairy house, a remnant of Fred Grossheider's days as a milk producer. Out back is another of Fred Grossheider's contributions, a hay barn constructed in 1955 by carpenters working for the wage of $1 per hour. The head carpenter rated $1.25.

The house itself, with its steep roof and dormer windows, hails from the days of great grandfather Albert Grossheider. The home still offers up some of its past on occasion.

"My great grandmother always said they drank a lot when they built this house and we found the evidence," laughs Seabaugh as he shows a flat-sided whisky bottle with the year 1898 imprinted on its bottom. It is one of several such bottles found in the attic.

Among other clues to the past are a bicycle catalog from the early 1900s found behind some kitchen cabinets and a Ford dealership's postcard thanking Fred Grossheider for test driving a tractor.

Another unique item found in the attic is a therapeutic device used by one of Seabaugh's uncles. The device consists of shoebox-sized wooden container which holds a small, hand-cranked generator with wires leading to a couple of metal bars. The uncle, who suffered from a nerve disorder, would hold to two bars and the electric shock he received when the generator was cranked was believed to be therapeutic.

Like his grandfathers, Seabaugh continues to make his own marks on the farm. He is now working to remodel the kitchen, the latest in a series of remodeling projects undertaken since the family moved into the home ("We've pretty much been all through it," he said of the remodeling work). New drywall and kitchen cabinets are his most recent contributions and may remain when his own children inherit the land.

"I think the farm will be in the family for another generation," Seabaugh said. "I don't have any plans to sell. I'll just pass it on to my kids."