Today there's umpteen stories written about trains and planes, dogs and cats, horses and cows, bears, and bunnies, owls and crows, blue jays, and wood chucks, and the list goes on indefinitely. But today is a new day in history, I felt it would be a different one, and a special one when I jumped out of my bed, early this morning, and seen that my wife had failed to have my breakfast ready by 5:30, with my usual Starbucks coffee. Yes; I said to myself as I past her still sleeping form that was lost to the world of dreams! Today would be a day that her husband would make her proud, and that history would be made in reality, and that tomorrow she would willingly have my breakfast steaming by five am, with a big smile on her face.

We at Precision Posts: Pressure treated fence posts,  and here is a story that may be 95% true, but there's no guarantees about that. The only thing for sure is that this should be recorded as a first in the Guinness world record book, simply because it's the very first story ever written about the: Poor Little Fence Post The Poor Little Fence Post, which wasn't even pressure-treated, who was also very skinny, kind of crooked, who nobody wanted him around, was lying in the hot Kentucky sun, where lazy redneck had thrown him, at the Precision Posts pressure treating fence post mill, managed by Mr. leland Hershey and by Mr. Evart, who wanted the bank paid off before he was eighty, so he could take his wife and live in Belize with the rest of the clan who would still be alive at that time.

Poor Little Fence Post wasn't even noticed by his big uncle 8x8, who was pressure-treated to a retention rate of .40%, and was the corner post for every big and rich farmer and rancher, across the entire USA, who wanted the very best and longest lasting fence, because he was trying to live the American dream, and act like money really wasn't a problem. Poor Little Fence Post found it was very hard to wear a smile, and keep from cracking up, because his greatest fear was that Mr. Hershey would throw him on the burn pile, with all the other unwanted posts, and that he would soon be covered up and soon forgotten, like all the other debris that Mr. Hershey used for land fill, to raise his post drying pad. This was just unthinkable, and unbearable for Poor Little Fence Post to think about. "Why, oh why, could I have not been a pressure-treated post?" sighed Poor Little Fence Post. "Or a big corner post, or last but not least, a pressure-treated, dog-eared-privacy-fence-board??" "Then Mr. Hershey would have kept me, just because he had pressed that expensive C.C.A. chemical into my heartwood." "Why oh why, didn't Mr. Hoogendorn wait till I was a big tree, and keep his feller buncher in someone else's woods."

Day after day, Poor Little Fence Post watched as all the other line posts dried out, and were loaded on the treating deck, where Mr. Samuel pressed them full of cool, long lasting treatment, green colored chemicals, so that all the farmers, and ranchers, and all the fence contractors, and fence builders, and privacy fence board people could brag about how long their fences lasted. Yes; all the line posts, the corner posts, the coal mining roof support posts, the fancy face landscaping posts, the horse fence posts, the corral posts, and last but not least, all the privacy, dog-eared, picket fence boards, went right past where little fence post lay, drying in the sun, and listening to all the chatter of all the happy pressure-treated products, who were all going to their different destinations. "We're all going to a big horse farm in Lexington, and when we get there we'll all receive our shiny new coats of black, and our beautiful fancy face boards, that will make us look like a million dollars" said the 5x7's, as they were whisked away by Boyd & Sons shiny new Peterbilt. "We're all going down to Atlanta Georgia" said a load of 4x7's, "and we will never be freezing in the bitter cold snow" they cried, as the Henry and Henry truck pulled them out of the Precision Posts yard. "Bye, bye, see you later" said 6,400, pressure-treated privacy fence boards, with all their fancy dog eared, 45% trimmed heads, see you all, as the big, yellow freight, drop deck, from Freight Quote, pulled out of the yard, at Mr. Millers, Precision Posts that produces pressure-treated, fence posts of all different sizes.

What a sad, sad day it was for Poor Little Fence Post, as he watched all the different products going to all their new homes, where they were all needed so very much. How wonderful it must feel to have that cool chemical pressed all the way to my heart, have it seeping through my veins, thought Poor Little Fence Post, how wonderful to be changed into a bright green, pressure treated fence post... But Instead, Poor little fence post cried and cried, no one needed him... no one wanted him, no one even liked him enough to treat him.

Then one bright summer day, Poor Little Fence Post woke up with a startle. A very big man, with a very big, big, beard come walking along, and seen Poor Little Fence Post lying on the ground, all by his lonesome. The big man stooped down to the ground and picked up Poor Little Fence Post, and kept looking at him as he turned him over and over. "Wow!" he said, "You're not a southern yellow pine pressure-treated fence post." "You're hickory, and I needed someone just like you for an idea that's been rolling around in my mind." "Would you mind if I trimmed you up and made you into a bunch of little pieces, so I could make a bunch of duck calls from your beautiful wood??" "I am so glad that you weren't pressure treated with C.C.A like all these other fence posts in this yard, or I couldn't use you and people couldn't put you to their lips, and blow through you." Now Poor Little Fence Post never felt poor any more, in fact his heart was full of joy, now he started to sing and shout, and to be thankful for not being like all these other fence posts in the yard. He was glad that he was not a big pressure treated corner post, he was glad he was not a large creosoted telephone, or power post, he was glad he was not a 5x7 pressure-treated yellow pine post going to Lexington, or Louisville, KY, or a 4x7 fence post headed down to Atlanta, Georgia.


If you have any questions, please feel free to call 270-318-4640 Ask for: Mr Sa