Photo caption: All the guys during harvest 2022. Roy is pictured second from the right. (Courtesy photo.)
If you met Roy Fisher just once in your life, you’d never forget him. A sweet man in his 70s, he always had a clever joke to share, and he would make his way around the room telling everyone individually until we had all heard it. Roy was a cousin to my father-in-law, but he was treated more like a brother or uncle in our family.
He was one of our part-time hired hands, driving the Peterbilt during fall and summer harvest, hauling hay and water for the sprayer. Roy was unloading sorghum at our grain bins last fall when he suffered a fatal heart attack. It was a shock to our family and it’s still difficult to imagine him not being here for wheat harvest this year.
During harvest, he was always first in line when we pulled into the field with lunch or dinner. Sometimes I would be driving into the field to set up for dinner just as he was leaving with a load of grain, which would delay his meal. I could see the visible disappointment on his face through his windshield. He loved food and enjoying a meal with friends and family. After he ate, Roy was always the first to thank the cook with his signature phrase, “Thank you, that was a scrumptious and delightful meal!”
I only knew Roy for a short time, but he made a significant impact on me in that time. I met him in 2020 when I started dating my now husband, Landon. I remember he told me a joke at our first meeting, and a month or two later I saw him again and he said he had a gift for me. It was a vintage High Plains Journal yardstick—these were given out a farm shows years ago and he had found one that was probably about 30 to 40 years old.
I could see the pride brimming from him as he handed it to me. He knew I worked for HPJ and went out of his way to give me a special gift, and it meant a lot to me. From then on, he would ask how the yardstick was—as if it was a pet—and although we all laughed at him, Roy was serious. He gave gifts from the heart to the people he cared about and respected and that wasn’t lost on me.
I would be remiss if I did not mention his blood donations. Roy donated blood as often as he could, even receiving his 28-gallon donor pin, which he proudly wore and talked about often. One of the Oklahoma Blood Institute phlebotomists attended his funeral and spoke at the service about what a special person he was, and I think it brought tears to everyone’s eyes.
When Landon and I got married in the fall of 2021, Roy received an invitation, and he was so excited to attend. I did not expect a wedding gift from him, but there he was with a beautifully wrapped gift from Dillard’s department store. This single man, who probably hadn’t been to a mall in 20 years or more, drove an hour to Oklahoma City, found a retail associate and they helped him look at our registry to find the perfect gift.
He chose an expensive silver ice bucket, and I think about him every time I use it at parties. I think our wedding was the highlight of his year. He got spiffed up in some new duds, came with a fresh set of jokes for a new crowd and was even the victor in the garter toss.
Only farm families will understand this statement, but harvest can be similar to Christmas or Thanksgiving. There is a lot of work put in prior to the event; there is stress and anxiety; families gather together at the same time each year; everyone is worn out by the time it’s over and there is always food. And the first major holiday after a family member’s death is always hard to get through.
Most harvest crews are tightknit, like a family, and the first year without an instrumental member of your team can be tough as well. We’re experiencing that this year, but I feel a little better when I consider where Roy is now that he’s left his earthly body. And if I know Roy, he’s got a grin on his face and will be looking down on us all this harvest season. My only wish would be to serve him one more meal in the field.
Lacey Vilhauer can be reached at 620-227-1871 or [email protected].
