by Bill Chamberlain
Down in the horse pasture on Picnic Day in 1949 or so (I was about 14 and too young to qualify as a tug-of-war team member), contestants laid down an old one-inch sisal rope. Each team lined up, digging their heels into the ground. The last man on each side had a rope tied around his waist. “Lean back,” they were told. Anchor the team from being pulled ahead.
The pull began and, “damn,” the rope broke, laying everyone flat. Did I mention that there were several on-lookers sitting on the rail fence?
Someone asked Percy, “you have a new hay rope up in the barn – can we get it?” Percy countered by asking contestants to double the old rope rather than risk a new one. The pull was completed, but, in my memory, we haven’t had a tug-a-war since.