*»"*>•April 18,1981 40years in extension service
Harry Sloat reviews 60 years
BY CURT HAULER
LANCASTER For 40 years the
farmers of Lancaster saw Harry S
Sloat on a weekly basis. But during
the past 20 years, farmers have
been more likely to ask, “What
ever happened to Harry 9 "
The answer is simple nothing
happened to Harry Sloat.
The former Lancaster County
agricultural extension agent still
lives right behind the Manor
Shopping Center in a brick home as
solid as his reputation as a farm
leader
Although he has suffered what he
describes as “ticker trouble,”
Harry makes only one concession
to old age
“I’ve given up night driving,” he
explains
Until the recent retirement of
Max Smith after 44 years, Harry
Sloat held the state record for
longevity among county agents
The Carbon County native
relocated from Rockport, midway
between Allentown and Wilkes-
Barre, to Lancaster County in
February 1921.
For 40 years, until his retirement
in 1961, Sloat made his way around
the county discussing poultry,
tobacco, vegetables, fruit, and
field crops with Lancaster far
mers
First it was in a Ford, later in a
Dodge, finally in a Chevy, that he
toured the farmland of Lancaster
County
He made his most lasting mark
in farm managment programs
Even today farmers regularly
discuss how Harry Sloat taught
them bookkeeping or got them
started on a particular record
keeping program
But as Harry spins stones of his
past as an extei ,sion agent, it
quickly becomes apparent that
Lancaster County almost didn’t
have a Harry Sloat in its extension
service more times than one
Harry Sloat had enrolled in Penn
State and was to be graduated in
1919. At the tune he was in the
Reserve Officers Training Corps
“When World War II I mean
World War 1 broke out, I
dropped out of college to serve,’’ he
recalls.
That was in the Fall of 1917
Only days before he was due to
be shipped overseas he came down
with a deathly bout of the flu
By the time he recovered the
hostilities had ended and Harry
was on his own again.
He got a job as a chemist running
tests on lead and zinc oxide for a
plant near his home.
While working he fell victim to
an industrial accident and his legs
were severely burned. The
damage was so bad the physicians
wanted to amputate his leg
But Harry Sloat had other plans.
He wanted to join a Masonic
Lodge, and the Masons would not
accept a person missing limbs.
With a great deal of assistance
from a French doctor, Sloat
recovered.
“I decided college was better
than what I’d been through,” he
says.
He returned to Penn State, and in
February 1921 he received his
degree in horticulture.
Harry Sloat started working with
Lancaster County farmers a few
days before he received his B.S.
from Penn State College, as it was
known then.
His blue-grey eyes flash from
behind gold framed glasses as he
recalls the early days of extension
work in the county.
“Bucher and I used to go out to
farms and see problems first
hand,” he says, referring to long
time county agent Dutch Bucher.
“We didn’t use radio or TV
programs then, ’ ’ he continues.
SJoat seems resigned to the mass
media contacts made by county
agents today, but that doesn’t
mean he has to like them.
Still, he used the media himself.
For the last several years he was
in extension he did an article every
Friday for the Lancaster New Era,
covering farm or 4-H happenings.
It was under Dutch Bucher that
he got his first promotion, from
area farm management specialist
to assistant county agent
But there were troubles working
with Dutch. As most oldtimers
remember, Dutch Bucher always
ran around the county on his
motorcycle. When Dutch needed
help with a talk or demonstration,
Harry would be drafted into riding
along in the cycle’s sidecar.
“It was between Quarryville and
Kirkwood, one day, that we came
around a sharp curve a bit too fast.
He lifted the third wheel right off
the ground.
“I thought I was going to go
through the fence head first,”
Hariy recalls. But Bucher got the
cycle back on track and the ex
tension service was saved the
burden of hiring a whole new ag
staff
There was a thinner extension
staff then, Sloat recalls.
“For years before my
retirement on February 1, 1961
Bucher and I were doing all the
farm work. There was a home
economist and her assistant, and
that was our whole staff,” he says
He looks with some amazement
at a recent brochure which shows
twice as many extension directors
and nearly three times the staff
today as what he and Dutch had to
work with
Harry’s mind shifts gears, for a
moment.
“You know, Dutch had a girl in
Kansas he used to tell me about.
Said they came really close to
getting married*
“But then he moved away from
there, became ill down South, and
lost touch. They never did get
married,” Harry concludes.
For Sloat, though, there was a
woman to share the years.
"Emma Carey and I originally
were in classes together back in
1919,” he recalls. “Psychology, I
believe ”
As fate would have it, the two
never dated at Penn State
‘ I ran across her teaching at
Lampeter,” he continues.
The ag teacher at Lampeter used
to be strong on eggs Sloat, long
remembered for his ties to the
county poultry business, naturally
was involved in egg activities.
“I’d help Roy B. Herr and the
other poultrymen get together
their exhibit. Several years they
won the medal for the largest and
best exhibit at the Farm Show,” he
remembers.
Herr, of course, was president of
the Poultry Association for about
15 years, following Harry Metzler
who was the group’s first
president.
“Anyway, I ran into her again
when she was tea clung at Lam
peter. Now, Pappy Gibbs who had
an ice cream plant, and some
others of us would go dancmg
every Tuesday evening.
“I took Emma to a couple of
those dances and we just kept on
going,” Harry says
Emma’s brother Charles taught
vo-ag at Lampeter for a few years
and then moved to York County as
supervisor. Now he is retired in
Williamsport.
Lancaster Sure Crop was the
com variety to beat in those days
“I remember at one demon
stration near Strasburg we had an
18-foot tall Mexican line that was
in Lancaster County
“It was so high you had to reach
up to touch the ear,’’ Harry says,
reaching high over his head for
emphasis
Hybrid varieties eventually
made the old lines obsolete.
Meanwhile, the age of chemicals
was arriving.
“In the late 30s we started a
program to spray for spittlebug,”
Harry says.
One of the first demonstrations
was on a farm below Kirkwood.
Sloat went out to the farm with
Penn State specialist John Pepper.
Pepper, Sloat recalls, was a bit
reluctant to make the drive
because he doubted there would be
much farmer interest.
“When we got there we saw cars
parked along the road for a mile
and a half,” Harry recalls.
By the next summer a lot of
fellows had rigged up sprayers and
in a short tune the practice of
spraying alfalfa became common
In those days, Sloat says, a
specialist from the College would
be through the county every 10
days or two weeks.
There was Elmer Pfeifer or Jim
Eakm to talk about agronomy.
John Pepper would be through to
look at disease or insect problems.
“In between tunes. I’d send out
personal letters to farmers to help
with their problems. Now they
send out these books,” he says
holding up an Orchard Managment
book and an Agronomy Guide,
“and the farmers come in for
meetings.”
4-H activities kept agents busy
At that tune the youth club was
everyone’s responsibility.
“We used to be out every mght to
a 4-H club meeting, except
Saturday and Sunday Now club
leaders do that work,” he says.
Sloat continues to talk slowly,
'remembering how things were.
Money, then as now, was a con
stant worry
“Mrs Collins McSparren and I
were delegated to see the County
Commissioners for the extension
appropriation,” he says
Getting dollars to support the ag
extension program then, as now,
was a major undertaking.
He remembers one particular
commission chairman as “a
politician and much the tightwad ”
But with a great deal of coaxing
the pair managed to get the county
appropriation doubled from $5OOO
to $lO,OOO.
“That was for all expenses, staff,
office space and the rest,” Harry
emphasizes, noting today’s budget
has grown but still represents a
challenge to extension leaders
Even newcomers to the County
can remember when there was no
modem Farm and Home Center to
support agricultural activities
But how many can remember
walking into the office where
Harry Sloat first started his work,
the one out East Orange Street in
Lancaster’
From there the extension office
was moved to the top of the
Woolworth Building near the
square in Lancaster, and later to
the second floor of the Post Office
Building.
“At the Post Office there was no
charge for rent,” Harry notes with
apparent glee.
Harry Sloat took calls at all of
those locations, and notes that it
often would be 2 p.m. before’he
could dip out to eat lunch.
He says with some surprise that
he still gets calls and requests for
information at home.
“Memory doesn’t hold up as
good as it used to,” he says just
before spouting off names and lists
of places, like the recent fruit and
poultry meetings he attended
Harry mat relaxes in the living room of his Lancaster
home, surrounded by magazines and books-many of which
are Yearbooks of Agriculture or plant and garden volumes.
Last Monday, for example, he
and J Wilbur Houser of Lampeter
went to the beekeepers and
fruitgrowers meeting.
During the 60 years he has
travelled Lancaster County roads,
Harry Sloat has seen thousands of
changes some for the good,
some not so good.
“There is a crying need for more
work to be done on sod con
servation,’’he says.
‘We need help to keep industry
and housing from enroachmg on
good farmland Look at the
Manheim Pike, or around Mount
Joy, or along the Lincoln High
way,” he says.
Since his early days in Lancaster
County, except in the Eastern
parts where the Amish and Pike
Mennomte have been; farms have
become totally mechanized, he
points out.
Big dairymen with 25 cows now
have 90 to 100 They ship to giant
co-ops rather than to local dairies,
he continues
Confinement feeding of swine
and cattle is fairly common.
Poultry and broiler industry
expansion has pretty’ well covered
the whole county.
“All of that has helped keep
Lancaster in front of the non
irrigated counties in the United
States,” he emphasizes.
He also throws m a pitch for
Eastern products.
“Eaten any of those Washington
apples’” he asks. “They may
produce color out West with all
that sunshine and irrigation.
But their apples have little or
no flavor. If I want apples, I want
Eastern apples,” he says.
Harry pauses for a moment to
check on his wife.
She had an aneurism of the brain
some tune ago and underwent five
nours surgery.
“She has had problems,” he
says. “It falls to me to do the work
around here.”
Returning to the room he
speculates on how Lancaster
County’s farms will fare during the
coming 60 years
“If I’d be able to come back to [
Lancaster County and look at
agriculture I’d like to see lower,
stable interest rates.
“There has to be a retrenchment
and balancing of budgets for
farmers as well as the government
if they both are going to keep from
going bankrupt,” he declares.
“I hope we can continue to adjust
to things and then we’ll succeed,”
he says.
Harry Sloat still can’t get ovei
how people remember him
When he worked as agent he was
honored many tunes. One in
particular he recalls was an award
presented in New York’s Waldorf
Astoria hotel for helping farmers
use pest control materials.
He has a folder of over 100 letters
given him upon his retirement. He
still looks through them now and
then.
“You’d be surprised at the calls
and questions I get at times. I seem
to have reached the farmers more
personally than some do today,”
Harry muses.
With all the years spent in
agriculture, Harry Sloat can’t keep
far from the soil.
His garden is lush with
rhododendron, magnolia, bridal
wreath, and roses.
He takes a few quick, short steps
to show his visitor to the door. “It’s
amazing they still remember,” he
says.
No, that’s not amazing
surprising thing about Harry S. •
Sloat is that he doesn’t expect
people to remember him.