For generations, the tractor has been a central figure in kibbutz life - admired by children, a status symbol for teens, and the pride of the farming crews. Every evening, kibbutz youngsters gathered in the tractor yard, touching the black levers, turning the stiff wheel, and imagining themselves “being like Dad” before he left for night duty.
Tractors were also a source of passionate debate. Enlightened kibbutzim such as Ein Harod preferred white Case tractors, while conservative ones like Geva and Moledet swore by green John Deeres - arguments that lasted for decades. So strong was this “devotion” that the idea of a John Deere entering Ein Harod seemed impossible - until one hot summer evening when two brand-new green tractors suddenly appeared, astonishing both children and adults.
Their success soon led to the arrival of a large, sophisticated American John Deere model, equipped with advanced gears, a digital display, and bright halogen headlights. For the kibbutz members, this was cutting-edge technology - astonishing and almost unreal.
At that time, the writer’s youth group began working in the fields. Once a week he worked under Moran, a skilled and colorful character who adored Pink Floyd and valued quick understanding. The writer usually received small, unimpressive tractors - until one evening his name appeared alongside the prestigious American John Deere and a large cultivator he had never operated before.
Excited and sleepless, he arrived at the parking yard at dawn. After a short explanation, Moran encouraged him - adding even more pressure. But moments later, while leaving the yard through the wrong exit, the cultivator crashed into the grain-storage wall and shattered. Covered in debris and shame, he awaited Moran’s verdict. Moran arrived, surveyed the damage, and simply said: “Don’t worry - I once overturned a cotton picker.”
The writer and the American tractor never worked together again. They passed each other in silence - the writer looking down in embarrassment, the tractor’s headlights glinting as if saying, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”