This was written by my maternal grandmother, Alice Green-Kollenborn (1911-2005).
When I was about four years old, my sister Mary and I went with Effie, our oldest sister, age 14, to break a field of corn stocks so they could be plowed under for fertilizer. Effie hooked Beck and Babe to the float made of heavy timbers fastened together while Mary and I sat on the front of the float. Effie stood up holding the horse’s reins. She had been forbidden to take us younger kids with her when she was using the horses, but trusting horses explicitly she felt no danger would come to us.
As the float caught on a rough spot and the horses gave a lurch, I tumbled off between the front of the float and the horses’ hind feet. As the float rolled me beneath it, I was cushioned by the soft earth and came out frightened but unharmed except for a few bruises.
Effie was so frightened by the experience she gave me her brown hobby horse, her most treasured possession for years, if I wouldn’t tell Mama about the incident. As far as I know, Mama never did find out, and Effie never took me places again without her permission.