Got back from South Carolina where we buried my 80-yr-old Dad after a long fight with Parkinson's. He was a radioman flying on B-17 bombers at the end of WWII. He taught us how to farm, hunt and fish. He love the details of nature including things like the color and texture of a rock and the sparkle of dew on a spider web. He never NEVER complained about anything or uttered a disparaging word about anyone his whole life. He was a man among men and those like him from his generation are truly rare and will be sorely missed.
While home, Mom wanted to cut down some hickory nut trees that were encroaching on the house. Dad's saw, a Husky Rancher 50, had been sitting in an outside shed for at least 6-7 years and the chain was rusted to the bar. Luckily, though, he had run the tank dry before storing it so after replacing the chain and cleaning up the bar, it started up and I was able to get the work done. Anyway, Mom wanted me to have the saw, so I brought it home to Utah. Obviously, this little saw will have a large place in my collection. Its the older magnesium case model with the white shroud.