Bang, bang, bang, bang.
There’s a steady rhythm coming from the repair shop, and Jim Gates has a good idea of what’s happening.
“They’re likely trying to remove a pin. It’s a front axle pivot pin that’s pressed in tight, and there’s no way to use a press in that spot, so you have to pound it out,” he remarks without even glancing into the shop.
“I’ve swung that hammer a few times. No point in using the small one for this job; just grab your 4-pound hammer and get to work.”
We’re sitting in a second-floor break room that hasn’t changed much since the 1980s, overlooking a hangar filled with agricultural machinery in various stages of repair. The scene is painted in John Deere yellows and greens, with combines beside sprayers, trucks, and tractors. Some tires tower over a standing man, almost like a full-grown deer. From up here, the massive machines resemble toys, and when you step onto the shop floor, you realize the doors are large enough to allow a combine to pass through.
Jim has spent 40 years as a farm machinery mechanic and currently works at PrairieLand Partners in Independence, Kansas. He has been around long enough to recall a time before air conditioning, when he would close his toolbox at the end of a hot day only to find his wrenches still warm the following morning.
Jim is intimately familiar with tractor engines; he could sketch the layout of a 4020 transmission on the back of a pizza napkin. His journey into tractor mechanics began when machines still utilized direct mechanical fuel injectors, a far cry from today’s electronics-controlled systems.
The machine and its mechanic — Jim Gates in front of a John Deere 4440 with a disassembled transmission. The 4440 series was produced from 1978 to 1982 and was the first tractor series Jim learned to work on as a new mechanic. (Story photos by Nick Rex)
Jim grew up in town in Independence. He got his start fixing machines by changing the disks on his grandfather’s Clinton push mower. Throughout his youth, he mowed lawns, repaired mowers, and delved into car engines. He attended automotive vo-tech school in Coffeyville, where his classmates took the farm machinery course by requirement, while he genuinely enjoyed diving into the mechanics. His eyes reflect sincerity.
This intricate “maze” is the transmission valve body of a John Deere 8360R. It directs oil to various clutches and brakes within the transmission. Jim has taken it out to access the inner transmission for repairs.
Jim was employed at a gas station when Larry O’Malley himself offered him a position at O’Malley Equipment Company. With O’Malley as a mentor, Jim absorbed knowledge about the latest tractor series at the time — the John Deere 4440, produced during the late 1970s and early 80s.
As computers began to emerge in the 90s, Jim adapted mid-career, learning to integrate technology into farm machinery. The mechanical linkages once used in combines and tractors evolved into a system of computerized controllers and electrical sensors. He mastered the assembly and disassembly of circuits while repairing solenoids and sensors, navigating between heavy-duty work and fine-tuning electronics.
The next move in fixing the transmission of this John Deere 4440 tractor involves setting the differential adjustments before reinstalling the top shaft. During its production run (1978-1982), the 4440 model featured a top-notch transmission with 16 forward speeds, employing a clutchless power shift that allowed operators to shift on the move.
The sounds of air hammers fill the air as the shop floor is strewn with absorbent pellets. We walk beneath combines with their sides open. Jim scrapes at oil grime from his fingernails using a pocket knife.
Times have changed. Driving down Pennsylvania Avenue in Independence, the iconic pillars of the old gas station where he once worked stand tall, now serving as an office for an insurance company.
“So much has changed. There are fewer gas stations now. Everyone seems to be in a rush these days—everyone but me,” Jim quips.
“I’ve spent countless nights making the drive to Beto Junction just to spend the weekend with my kids. Those who have their children and grandchildren nearby don’t fully understand how fortunate that is.”
A glimpse into the mechanic’s office — several sets of wrenches hang alongside parts from disassembled farm machinery, intertwined with photos of family: a growing granddaughter, a cherished first Harley Davidson, and a Santa Claus beard from deer season.
“This toolbox could fetch the price of a used 4-wheel drive truck if I put my money elsewhere,” Jim laughs. “These tools are older than most folks in this building.”
In 2013, Jim upgraded to a new toolbox, suggesting he could have also bought a used 4-wheel drive pickup with the expenditure. His toolbox reflects a mechanic’s den—hanging wrenches, assorted metal pieces from various machines, a photo of his first Harley Davidson, and pictures of his family, now scattered across three states.
“My daughters are thriving and have families of their own now. In October, we took the grandkids to Neewollah, and they had a blast. Grandma and I took the boys on all those little rides, which I know for a fact are the same ones I enjoyed as a kid. Back and forth, back and forth. The twin grandsons couldn’t get enough of the rides!”
Now, Jim stands as the seasoned buck in the woods—a mentor to a new wave of mechanics. His skills are unmatched. It’s not unusual for him to have six tractors torn apart simultaneously, expertly tracking which parts belong to which machines. Jim embodies the unsung heroes of agriculture— the farm machinery mechanic— a maestro making farmers’ broken wheels spin again. It takes four decades of engine rebuilding, transmission memorization, software learning, and the occasional jarring encounters with a forklift to reach his level of proficiency.
“Maybe it has only taken me 20 years,” Jim chuckles. “Unless I’m just a slow learner.”
“There are many heroes out there,” he acknowledges. “Like all those before me, the ones who taught me.”
(Story photos by Nick Rex)