At the co-op, the conversation shifted. "How are those Massey Fergusons holding up? Heard Rick's already done with wheat. Johnston Ag treating him right?"
The doubt was fading. Not because Rick defended himself, because the numbers didn't lie. August. Rick got a text from Dale Richter at Johnston Ag.
"Got a guy two counties over asking about switching his fleet. Gave him your number. Hope that's cool."
Rick smiled. He called the guy that night. Spent an hour on the phone answering questions, sharing his experience, walking him through the transition. At the end of the call, the guy said, "Did you ever regret it?"
Rick thought about it. He thought about the dealers who stopped returning his calls, the bank that questioned his decisions, the neighbors who waited for him to fail, the dealership plaque with his name on it still hanging in a showroom he'd never walk into again. And then he thought about his shop full of equipment that worked. "No," Rick said. "Not once."
September 2024. Rick was combining corn when he saw a truck pull into his driveway. He recognized it immediately. Tom Huxley.
Rick shut down the combine and climbed out. Tom walked over, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. "I'm not here to fight," Tom said. Rick nodded. "All right."
"I'm here because I wanted to say something I should have said a year ago." Tom took a breath. "You were right. We didn't treat you the way we should have and we lost you because of it." Rick didn't respond.
Tom continued. "I'm not asking you to come back. I know that's not happening. But I wanted you to know that we've changed some things. Response times, parts inventory, how we handle guys when they're in a bind. Because watching you leave made us realize we'd gotten comfortable."
Rick studied him. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because you're not the first guy who thought about switching. You're just the first one who actually did it. And I don't want to lose anyone else the way we lost you."
Tom extended his hand. Rick shook it. Not because the past was forgotten, but because the message had finally been received.
October 2024. Rick's operation ran flawlessly. Two combines, six tractors, all Massey Ferguson red.
He wasn't fighting anyone anymore. He wasn't proving anything. He was just farming. With equipment that worked, a dealer that answered, and a fleet that didn't make him beg for parts or wait for someone to care. At the McCook co-op, guys started asking more questions.
"What's the difference between the 8S and the 7S? How's the parts availability really been? You think Johnston Ag would work with me?" Rick answered honestly every time.
And every time, he saw the same thing in their eyes. The realization that loyalty only works when it runs both ways. Rick Hollander didn't switch to Massey Ferguson to make a statement. He switched because he couldn't afford not to. And in doing so, he learned something the hard way.
The brand on the side of your tractor doesn't matter as much as the people who answer the phone when it breaks. The legacy you inherit doesn't matter as much as the operation you can sustain. And sometimes the most expensive decision you can make is staying loyal to something that stopped being loyal to you.
Rick runs Massey Ferguson now. Not because it's red, but because it runs. And because when he calls his dealer, they pick up. That's the only loyalty that pays.
There are decisions that change a farm. And then there are decisions that burn every bridge behind you. Rick Hollander made that second kind. 2,400 acres of winter wheat and registered Angus cattle in south-central Nebraska.
His operation sat 12 miles outside McCook, tucked between the Republican River Valley and rolling plains that turned gold every June. Third-generation land. His grandfather broke it with a Ford 8N. His father expanded it with International Harvester machines. Rick built it into something bigger.
All of it running on John Deere green. Nine tractors, two S-series combines, a lineup of implements, sprayers, and equipment worth $3.2 million. Some of it financed. Most of it bought outright over two decades. Every machine carried the leaping deer logo.
Every service record came from the same dealership in McCook, Huxley and Sons Equipment, a family operation that had sold Deere iron in southwest Nebraska since 1971. Rick didn't just buy from them. His family helped build them. His father bought Huxley's first 4020 back in '73. Rick bought his first 8R there in 2009.
When the dealership expanded in 2015, Rick's name went on a bronze dedication plaque in the showroom lobby. Not because he asked for it, because Tom Huxley, the owner's son and general manager, insisted. "Your family," Tom had said, "this place doesn't exist without guys like you." Rick believed him until June 14, 2023. It was the second day of wheat harvest.
The kind of day that defines a year. Clear skies, low humidity. 14-hour windows where every minute counted. Rick was running his 2020 John Deere S780 combine through a 340-acre section north of the highway, cutting at 4.2 mph, grain tank filling every 11 minutes.
Then the machine lurched. Not a small hiccup, a full mechanical seizure. The entire drivetrain locked. The header stopped mid-cut. Alarms screamed across the cab display.
Rick killed the engine, climbed down, and opened the side panel. The CVT transmission had grenaded itself. Shrapnel, fluid, metal fragments embedded in housing that wasn't supposed to crack. The kind of failure that doesn't happen from wear, it happens from a manufacturing defect that slipped through quality control and sat waiting for the worst possible moment. Rick called the dealership.
Tom Huxley didn't answer. The service manager did. "We'll get someone out there tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow?" Rick said, "I've got 1,800 acres of wheat standing. I need this fixed today."
"Rick, we're slammed. Everyone's harvesting. I'll bump you up the list, but it's going to be tomorrow at the earliest." The tech arrived 26 hours later. He took one look, whistled, and shook his head.
"Yeah, that's cooked. You're looking at a full transmission replacement." "How long?" "Parts, 3 weeks if we're lucky. Could be six."
Rick stared at him. "Six weeks?" "It's a specialized unit, comes from Germany. Deere's backlogged." "What's it cost?"
The tech pulled up his tablet. "$47,300 plus labor." Rick felt the air go out of him. $47,000, 3 to 6 weeks in the middle of harvest, with a weather window that wouldn't wait and a crop that lost value every day it sat in the field. He called Tom Huxley directly.
"Tom, I need you to do something. I need this expedited. I don't care what it costs. I'll pay rush shipping. I'll pay overtime. I need that combine running."
Tom's voice was sympathetic, professional, distant. "Rick, I hear you. But we don't control the supply chain. Deere says 3 weeks minimum. I can't make parts appear."
"You've got pull. You've been a platinum dealer for 15 years. Call someone." "I already did. They told me the same thing."
Rick stood in his shop, phone pressed to his ear, staring at the bronze plaque on his wall, a gift from Huxley and Sons when he bought his 8R. "So, what am I supposed to do?" Rick said. "Rent a combine. We've got a used S760 you could lease for the season."
"At what rate?" "$315 an hour."
Rick did the math in his head. He had 1,800 acres left. At his usual pace, that was 140 hours of run time. $44,100. Nearly the same cost as the repair, except the repair kept his asset. The rental just bled him.
"I'll think about it," Rick said. He hung up and started looking at other options. That night, Rick sat at his kitchen table with a laptop and a beer he didn't drink.
He pulled up videos, forums, performance reports. He read about brands he'd never seriously considered. Case IH, New Holland, Fendt, Massey Ferguson. Massey Ferguson kept appearing. Not because of marketing, because of testimonials.
Farmers in Australia running MF Ideal combines through canola at speeds that shouldn't be possible. Operators in Ukraine praising the simplicity of the threshing system. North Dakota wheat guys posting fuel efficiency numbers that made Deere's look bloated. And parts availability that didn't require praying to a German supply chain.
Rick clicked on a dealer locator. The closest Massey Ferguson dealer was Johnston Ag in Kearney, 83 miles northeast. He'd driven past it a hundred times and never looked twice.
He called the next morning. A guy named Dale Richter answered. Sales manager. Voice like gravel, with a tone that suggested he did not waste time. "Johnston Ag, this is Dale."
"Yeah, hi. I'm looking for information on your Ideal combine line." "You farming or custom cutting?"
"Farming. Wheat and cattle. I've got a Deere S780 that just blew its transmission. I need a replacement." "You need a rental replacement or a buy replacement?"
Rick hesitated. "I'm not sure yet."
"Well, let me make it easier. I've got a 2022 Ideal 9 on the lot. Demo unit. 340 horsepower, 450 bushel tank, low hours. It'll out-cut your S780 and burn 18% less fuel doing it. You want to see it?"
"What's it cost?" "$385,000. But we're motivated, end of quarter. I'll work with you." Rick felt something shift in his chest.
"I'll be there in 2 hours." The Ideal 9 sat in the Johnston Ag lot like it had been waiting for him. Gleaming red and silver, aggressive lines, a machine that didn't apologize for existing. Dale walked him through it, showed him the single-rotor threshing system, simpler than Deere's twin rotors, fewer parts to fail. Showed him the grain tank design, the cab layout, the hydraulic response time.
Then he said the thing that stuck. "You know what the difference is between us and Deere?" Dale said.
"When you call us, we answer. When you need parts, we get them. We don't make you wait because some algorithm in Iowa says you're not priority." Rick climbed into the cab, ran his hands over the controls. It felt different, tighter, more responsive.
"Can I test it?" "You can take it home," Dale said. "Run it through your wheat. If it doesn't outperform your Deere, bring it back."
Rick blinked. "You serious?" "Dead serious. I don't sell machines, I sell proof."
Rick drove the Ideal 9 back to his farm that afternoon. He put it in the same field where his S780 died. And he opened it up. The Massey Ferguson didn't just match the Deere, it embarrassed it. Faster ground speed, cleaner grain sample, less fuel per acre.
The single-rotor system handled green-stem wheat without slugging. The cab visibility let him push tighter to terraces without second-guessing. He ran it for 6 hours straight. Then he called Dale. "I want it."
"You sure?" "Yeah, but I want more than that." Dale paused. "I'm listening." "I want to replace my whole fleet."
The silence on the line lasted 3 seconds. "Say that again."
"I'm done with Deere," Rick said. "I want Massey Ferguson tractors. I want another combine. I want everything you've got that can replace what I'm running." Dale's voice got serious.
"Rick, I don't know what happened between you and your Deere dealer, but switching an entire fleet isn't something you do on emotion. That's a $2 million decision." "I know exactly what it is," Rick said. "And I'm not doing it on emotion. I'm doing it because I just spent 6 hours in a machine that works better, costs less, and comes from a dealer who doesn't treat me like I'm lucky to be his customer."
Dale exhaled. "All right, come back tomorrow. Let's build a plan."
Over the next 14 days, Rick did something no one in McCook had ever seen. He liquidated his entire John Deere fleet. All of it.
He listed the S780 as is, bad transmission disclosed. A custom operator in Kansas bought it for $110,000, half of what it was worth running. But Rick didn't care.
He sold the S690 backup combine to a farmer in Colorado. He sold the 8R tractors, the 6M series, the 5 series utility units. Implements, sprayers, anything green. Some of it went to auction, some through private sale, some to dealers two states away. Every piece went fast, because used Deere equipment still had value, even when the owner had lost faith in it.
Within 90 days, Rick had cleared $2.7 million, and he spent nearly all of it at Johnston Ag. The new fleet arrived in waves. Two Massey Ferguson Ideal 9 combines, red and silver, side by side in his machine shed like sculptures. Three Massey Ferguson 8S 265 tractors, 265 horsepower, continuously variable transmission, the kind of precision control that made old gear drive units feel like hammers. Two MF 7S series mid-range tractors for loader work in hay season.
One MF 5S utility tractor for feeding cattle and moving equipment. All of it Massey Ferguson red, all of it from Johnston Ag, all of it serviced by a dealer 83 miles away who treated Rick like he mattered. By mid-September, Rick's operation looked like it had been repainted overnight. No green, just red. And the entire county noticed.
Tom Huxley noticed, too. The first sign came when Rick called Huxley and Sons to order a PTO shaft for an old Deere baler he'd kept. One of the few green machines he hadn't sold because it still worked and wasn't worth replacing. The parts desk put him on hold for 11 minutes.
When they came back, the voice was clipped. "Yeah, we don't have that in stock." "Can you order it?" "It's discontinued."
Rick frowned. "It's a current production baler. How is the part discontinued?" "That's what the system says." "Can you check again?"
"I did. It's not available." Rick hung up. He drove to the dealership the next day.
Walked into the parts department, asked to speak to the manager. The manager, Kurt, a guy Rick had known for 8 years, came out with his arms crossed. "What can I do for you, Rick?"
"I need a PTO shaft for a 569 baler. Your guy told me it's discontinued. I know that's not true."
Kurt looked at his computer, clicked a few keys. "Hmm. Yeah, looks like we can get it, but it's special order now. 4-week lead time." "4 weeks for a PTO shaft?"
"Supply chain issues. You know how it is." Rick stared at him. "Kurt, I've bought parts from you for 15 years. You've never made me wait 4 weeks for a shaft."
Kurt shrugged. "Things change." Rick felt the message loud and clear. He left without ordering.
And he called the AGCO parts supplier in Kansas. They had the shaft in stock. It arrived in 3 days. The retaliation didn't stop there. 2 weeks later, Rick's 8R tractor, one of the last Deere machines he'd kept for finish mowing, developed a hydraulic leak.
Small issue, quick fix, but it needed a seal kit. He called Huxley and Sons. The service manager told him they couldn't schedule him for 2 weeks. "I just need a seal kit," Rick said. "I'll install it myself."
"We don't have it in stock." "Can you overnight it?" "We don't do rush orders anymore."
Rick hung up. He called a Deere dealer in Kansas. They had the kit. Shipped it same day, but the pattern was forming.
Every time Rick needed something from Huxley and Sons, it was suddenly unavailable, delayed, special order, back-ordered. His phone calls started going to voicemail. Service appointments got rescheduled. At the co-op in McCook, Rick started hearing whispers. "Heard you went full red."
"Tom Huxley's not happy about it." "You really think those Massey Fergusons are going to hold up?" Rick didn't respond. He just kept working.
October came, corn harvest. Rick ran both Ideal 9 combines through 800 acres of irrigated corn, cutting at 5.1 mph, with grain loss under 0.4% and fuel consumption 22% better than his old S-series Deeres. The machines didn't miss a beat. No breakdowns, no delays, no 3-week parts waits.
When he needed a concave adjustment kit, he called Johnston Ag at 7:00 a.m. Dale had it couriered to Rick's farm by 2:00 p.m. the same day. "That's how we do it," Dale said.
Rick started doing the math. In a normal year, he'd spend $18,000 in parts and service with Huxley and Sons. Emergency calls, preventive maintenance, filters, belts, fluids. Now, he was spending it with Johnston Ag and getting faster responses.
Huxley and Sons had lost an $18,000-a-year customer. And they knew it. November, Rick was at the McCook Farm Bureau meeting. Monthly gathering, 30 guys, coffee and gossip in a community center basement. Tom Huxley was there.
He didn't sit near Rick, didn't acknowledge him. But halfway through the meeting, during open discussion, Tom stood up. "I just want to say something," Tom said. "There's been a lot of talk lately about brand loyalty, about who supports local businesses and who doesn't."
The room went quiet. Tom didn't look at Rick, but everyone else did.
"We've been here for 50 years," Tom continued. "We've supported this community. We financed guys when banks wouldn't. We've kept people running when parts were scarce. And I think it's worth remembering that loyalty goes both ways."
He sat down. Rick felt 30 pairs of eyes on him. He didn't respond, didn't defend himself, just drank his coffee and waited for the meeting to end.
But the message landed. Tom Huxley wasn't just mad. He was making Rick a cautionary tale.
December brought the test Rick had been dreading. Calving season prep. He needed his equipment running flawlessly. Tractors for feeding, loaders for bedding. Reliability in sub-zero temperatures where a breakdown could mean dead calves and financial disaster.
The Massey Fergusons had never seen a Nebraska winter. The old-timers at the co-op reminded him of that. "Those fancy red tractors work great in August," one guy said. "Let's see how they do in January when it's 12 below and the hydraulics freeze."
Rick didn't argue. He just made sure his MF 8S and 7S tractors were prepped. Synthetic fluids, block heaters, cold weather fuel treatments. The first cold snap hit on December 9, 6° Fahrenheit at 5:00 a.m. Rick walked out to his machine shed, climbed into the 8S.265, turned the key.
It fired on the first crank. No hesitation, no sluggish starter, just clean ignition and smooth idle. He ran it for 3 hours feeding 240 head of cattle, moving big bales, operating the loader with hydraulic response that didn't fade in the cold. The tractor didn't flinch. Rick smiled for the first time in months.
But Tom Huxley wasn't done. In early January, Rick got a call from his bank. First National of McCook, the same bank that financed his land purchase in 2004, his equipment upgrades in 2011 and 2017. The loan officer, Gary Went, asked Rick to come in for a meeting.
Rick walked into Gary's office on a Thursday morning. Gary was polite, professional, but there was tension in his voice. "Rick, I wanted to talk to you about your equipment financing. You've got $340,000 outstanding on implements and machinery, correct?" "That's right."
"And you recently liquidated your John Deere fleet and replaced it with Massey Ferguson." Rick's jaw tightened. "I did."
"Well, we've had some concerns raised about resale value. Deere equipment holds value better in this region. If we ever had to repossess—" "You're not going to repossess anything," Rick said. "I've never missed a payment."
"I know, but we have to consider asset depreciation. Massey Ferguson isn't as strong in the secondary market here. We'd like you to increase your collateral coverage by 15%." Rick stared at him. "You want me to put up more collateral because I switched brands?"
Gary shifted in his seat. "It's just a risk assessment." "Did Tom Huxley call you?" Gary didn't answer.
Rick stood up. "I'll refinance somewhere else." "Rick, we're done."
Rick walked out. 2 days later, he secured financing through Frontier Bank in Kearney, the same town where Johnston Ag operated. Better rate, no collateral increase, no brand loyalty clause. When Gary called to apologize, Rick didn't pick up.
February, calving season in full swing, 14-hour days, sub-zero nights, equipment running non-stop. Rick's MF 7S.165 tractor logged 340 hours in 30 days. Feeding, hauling, bedding. Pulling calves in pasture corrals where grip and power mattered more than speed. Not one breakdown, not one service call.
When a hydraulic line blew on the loader, Rick called Johnston Ag. They had the replacement hose in stock. Rick drove up, grabbed it, installed it himself in 40 minutes. If he'd still been running Deere and called Huxley and Sons, a 2-week back order.
Rick was learning something that went beyond horsepower and fuel efficiency. Freedom had a value, and it wasn't measured in resale percentages. March, planting prep. Rick needed seed, fertilizer, and chemical. His usual supplier was Huxley Agronomy, a sister company to Huxley and Sons equipment, run by Tom's brother Jeff.
Rick had bought from them for 12 years. He called to place his order. Jeff answered. "Yeah, Rick, we're a little tight on inventory this year. I'm not sure we can prioritize your acres."
Rick kept his voice even. "Jeff, I've been buying from you since 2011. You've never had inventory issues before." "Well, things are different now. Suppliers are favoring long-term loyal customers."
The subtext was clear. Rick hung up. He drove to Landmark Cooperative in Holbrook, 30 miles west, placed his full seed and chemical order. They had everything in stock. Better pricing than Huxley Agronomy had offered the year before.
Rick loaded his truck and drove home. He was done playing defense. April, spring planting. Rick ran his three MF 8S.265 tractors through 2,100 acres of corn and soybeans in 17 days. The CVT transmission let him adjust speed on the fly without shifting.
The hydraulics gave him precise control on planter depth in variable soil. The fuel efficiency meant fewer stops, fewer refills, more acres per day. His neighbor, Bill Kesterson, a lifelong Deere operator running two 8R tractors, finished his 1,900 acres in 19 days. Rick's Massey Fergusons planted more ground faster on less fuel. Bill didn't say anything, but he stopped making jokes about those red tractors.
May, Rick was fueling up at the co-op in McCook when he saw Tom Huxley's truck pull in. Tom stepped out, saw Rick, walked over. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Tom said, "You made your point."
Rick looked at him. "What point is that?" "That you don't need us." "I never said that," Rick replied. "You're the one who decided I didn't matter anymore."
Tom's face hardened. "You walked away from 30 years of relationship. My family sold to your family. We financed you when—"
"You left me hanging," Rick cut him off. "I had a combine down in the middle of harvest and you told me to wait 3 weeks. I couldn't wait. So, I found someone who wouldn't make me."
"And now you're running equipment no one around here services. What happens when those Massey Fergusons break down and Johnston Ag can't get you parts?" Rick met his eyes. "Then I'll deal with it. But at least I'll be dealing with a company that treats me like I'm worth their time."
Tom shook his head. "You're going to regret this." "Maybe," Rick said. "But it'll be my regret, not yours."
Tom walked back to his truck. They didn't speak again. June 2024. One year since the S780 transmission failure. Rick stood in his shop looking at the lineup of Massey Ferguson equipment that had carried his operation through a full cycle.
Two Ideal 9 combines with 680 combined hours, zero breakdowns. Three 8S tractors with 240 hours between them, one hydraulic hose and one fuel filter housing. That was it. Two 7S tractors with 890 hours. Flawless.
Total maintenance cost for the year, $11,400. Previous year with Deere, $24,300. Fuel savings, $16,800. Downtime, nearly zero. Rick pulled out his phone and opened his accounting software.
Net income for 2024, $447,000. Best year he'd ever had.
Not because of market prices, those were average. Not because of yield, that was normal. Because his equipment worked. Because he didn't spend 3 weeks waiting for parts. Because when he called his dealer, someone answered.
July. Wheat harvest again. Rick ran both Ideal 9 combines through his fields at speeds that made his old S-series machines look cautious. He finished 2,400 acres in 9 days. Bill Kesterson, running his Deere S790, took 11.
At the co-op, the conversation shifted. "How are those Massey Fergusons holding up? Heard Rick's already done with wheat. Johnston Ag treating him right?"
The doubt was fading. Not because Rick defended himself, because the numbers didn't lie. August. Rick got a text from Dale Richter at Johnston Ag.
"Got a guy two counties over asking about switching his fleet. Gave him your number. Hope that's cool."
Rick smiled. He called the guy that night. Spent an hour on the phone answering questions, sharing his experience, walking him through the transition. At the end of the call, the guy said, "Did you ever regret it?"
Rick thought about it. He thought about the dealers who stopped returning his calls, the bank that questioned his decisions, the neighbors who waited for him to fail, the dealership plaque with his name on it still hanging in a showroom he'd never walk into again. And then he thought about his shop full of equipment that worked. "No," Rick said. "Not once."
September 2024. Rick was combining corn when he saw a truck pull into his driveway. He recognized it immediately. Tom Huxley.
Rick shut down the combine and climbed out. Tom walked over, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. "I'm not here to fight," Tom said. Rick nodded. "All right."
"I'm here because I wanted to say something I should have said a year ago." Tom took a breath. "You were right. We didn't treat you the way we should have and we lost you because of it." Rick didn't respond.
Tom continued. "I'm not asking you to come back. I know that's not happening. But I wanted you to know that we've changed some things. Response times, parts inventory, how we handle guys when they're in a bind. Because watching you leave made us realize we'd gotten comfortable."
Rick studied him. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because you're not the first guy who thought about switching. You're just the first one who actually did it. And I don't want to lose anyone else the way we lost you."
Tom extended his hand. Rick shook it. Not because the past was forgotten, but because the message had finally been received.
October 2024. Rick's operation ran flawlessly. Two combines, six tractors, all Massey Ferguson red.
He wasn't fighting anyone anymore. He wasn't proving anything. He was just farming. With equipment that worked, a dealer that answered, and a fleet that didn't make him beg for parts or wait for someone to care. At the McCook co-op, guys started asking more questions.
"What's the difference between the 8S and the 7S? How's the parts availability really been? You think Johnston Ag would work with me?" Rick answered honestly every time.
And every time, he saw the same thing in their eyes. The realization that loyalty only works when it runs both ways. Rick Hollander didn't switch to Massey Ferguson to make a statement. He switched because he couldn't afford not to. And in doing so, he learned something the hard way.
The brand on the side of your tractor doesn't matter as much as the people who answer the phone when it breaks. The legacy you inherit doesn't matter as much as the operation you can sustain. And sometimes the most expensive decision you can make is staying loyal to something that stopped being loyal to you.
Rick runs Massey Ferguson now. Not because it's red, but because it runs. And because when he calls his dealer, they pick up. That's the only loyalty that pays.
His operation sat 12 miles outside McCook, tucked between the Republican River Valley and rolling plains that turned gold every June. Third-generation land. His grandfather broke it with a Ford 8N. His father expanded it with International Harvester machines. Rick built it into something bigger.
All of it running on John Deere green. Nine tractors, two S-series combines, a lineup of implements, sprayers, and equipment worth $3.2 million. Some of it financed. Most of it bought outright over two decades. Every machine carried the leaping deer logo.
Every service record came from the same dealership in McCook, Huxley and Sons Equipment, a family operation that had sold Deere iron in southwest Nebraska since 1971. Rick didn't just buy from them. His family helped build them. His father bought Huxley's first 4020 back in '73. Rick bought his first 8R there in 2009.
When the dealership expanded in 2015, Rick's name went on a bronze dedication plaque in the showroom lobby. Not because he asked for it, because Tom Huxley, the owner's son and general manager, insisted. "Your family," Tom had said, "this place doesn't exist without guys like you." Rick believed him until June 14, 2023. It was the second day of wheat harvest.
The kind of day that defines a year. Clear skies, low humidity. 14-hour windows where every minute counted. Rick was running his 2020 John Deere S780 combine through a 340-acre section north of the highway, cutting at 4.2 mph, grain tank filling every 11 minutes.
Then the machine lurched. Not a small hiccup, a full mechanical seizure. The entire drivetrain locked. The header stopped mid-cut. Alarms screamed across the cab display.
Rick killed the engine, climbed down, and opened the side panel. The CVT transmission had grenaded itself. Shrapnel, fluid, metal fragments embedded in housing that wasn't supposed to crack. The kind of failure that doesn't happen from wear, it happens from a manufacturing defect that slipped through quality control and sat waiting for the worst possible moment. Rick called the dealership.
Tom Huxley didn't answer. The service manager did. "We'll get someone out there tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow?" Rick said, "I've got 1,800 acres of wheat standing. I need this fixed today."
"Rick, we're slammed. Everyone's harvesting. I'll bump you up the list, but it's going to be tomorrow at the earliest." The tech arrived 26 hours later. He took one look, whistled, and shook his head.
"Yeah, that's cooked. You're looking at a full transmission replacement." "How long?" "Parts, 3 weeks if we're lucky. Could be six."
Rick stared at him. "Six weeks?" "It's a specialized unit, comes from Germany. Deere's backlogged." "What's it cost?"
The tech pulled up his tablet. "$47,300 plus labor." Rick felt the air go out of him. $47,000, 3 to 6 weeks in the middle of harvest, with a weather window that wouldn't wait and a crop that lost value every day it sat in the field. He called Tom Huxley directly.
"Tom, I need you to do something. I need this expedited. I don't care what it costs. I'll pay rush shipping. I'll pay overtime. I need that combine running."
Tom's voice was sympathetic, professional, distant. "Rick, I hear you. But we don't control the supply chain. Deere says 3 weeks minimum. I can't make parts appear."
"You've got pull. You've been a platinum dealer for 15 years. Call someone." "I already did. They told me the same thing."
Rick stood in his shop, phone pressed to his ear, staring at the bronze plaque on his wall, a gift from Huxley and Sons when he bought his 8R. "So, what am I supposed to do?" Rick said. "Rent a combine. We've got a used S760 you could lease for the season."
"At what rate?" "$315 an hour."
Rick did the math in his head. He had 1,800 acres left. At his usual pace, that was 140 hours of run time. $44,100. Nearly the same cost as the repair, except the repair kept his asset. The rental just bled him.
"I'll think about it," Rick said. He hung up and started looking at other options. That night, Rick sat at his kitchen table with a laptop and a beer he didn't drink.
He pulled up videos, forums, performance reports. He read about brands he'd never seriously considered. Case IH, New Holland, Fendt, Massey Ferguson. Massey Ferguson kept appearing. Not because of marketing, because of testimonials.
Farmers in Australia running MF Ideal combines through canola at speeds that shouldn't be possible. Operators in Ukraine praising the simplicity of the threshing system. North Dakota wheat guys posting fuel efficiency numbers that made Deere's look bloated. And parts availability that didn't require praying to a German supply chain.
Rick clicked on a dealer locator. The closest Massey Ferguson dealer was Johnston Ag in Kearney, 83 miles northeast. He'd driven past it a hundred times and never looked twice.
He called the next morning. A guy named Dale Richter answered. Sales manager. Voice like gravel, with a tone that suggested he did not waste time. "Johnston Ag, this is Dale."
"Yeah, hi. I'm looking for information on your Ideal combine line." "You farming or custom cutting?"
"Farming. Wheat and cattle. I've got a Deere S780 that just blew its transmission. I need a replacement." "You need a rental replacement or a buy replacement?"
Rick hesitated. "I'm not sure yet."
"Well, let me make it easier. I've got a 2022 Ideal 9 on the lot. Demo unit. 340 horsepower, 450 bushel tank, low hours. It'll out-cut your S780 and burn 18% less fuel doing it. You want to see it?"
"What's it cost?" "$385,000. But we're motivated, end of quarter. I'll work with you." Rick felt something shift in his chest.
"I'll be there in 2 hours." The Ideal 9 sat in the Johnston Ag lot like it had been waiting for him. Gleaming red and silver, aggressive lines, a machine that didn't apologize for existing. Dale walked him through it, showed him the single-rotor threshing system, simpler than Deere's twin rotors, fewer parts to fail. Showed him the grain tank design, the cab layout, the hydraulic response time.
Then he said the thing that stuck. "You know what the difference is between us and Deere?" Dale said.
"When you call us, we answer. When you need parts, we get them. We don't make you wait because some algorithm in Iowa says you're not priority." Rick climbed into the cab, ran his hands over the controls. It felt different, tighter, more responsive.
"Can I test it?" "You can take it home," Dale said. "Run it through your wheat. If it doesn't outperform your Deere, bring it back."
Rick blinked. "You serious?" "Dead serious. I don't sell machines, I sell proof."
Rick drove the Ideal 9 back to his farm that afternoon. He put it in the same field where his S780 died. And he opened it up. The Massey Ferguson didn't just match the Deere, it embarrassed it. Faster ground speed, cleaner grain sample, less fuel per acre.
The single-rotor system handled green-stem wheat without slugging. The cab visibility let him push tighter to terraces without second-guessing. He ran it for 6 hours straight. Then he called Dale. "I want it."
"You sure?" "Yeah, but I want more than that." Dale paused. "I'm listening." "I want to replace my whole fleet."
The silence on the line lasted 3 seconds. "Say that again."
"I'm done with Deere," Rick said. "I want Massey Ferguson tractors. I want another combine. I want everything you've got that can replace what I'm running." Dale's voice got serious.
"Rick, I don't know what happened between you and your Deere dealer, but switching an entire fleet isn't something you do on emotion. That's a $2 million decision." "I know exactly what it is," Rick said. "And I'm not doing it on emotion. I'm doing it because I just spent 6 hours in a machine that works better, costs less, and comes from a dealer who doesn't treat me like I'm lucky to be his customer."
Dale exhaled. "All right, come back tomorrow. Let's build a plan."
Over the next 14 days, Rick did something no one in McCook had ever seen. He liquidated his entire John Deere fleet. All of it.
He listed the S780 as is, bad transmission disclosed. A custom operator in Kansas bought it for $110,000, half of what it was worth running. But Rick didn't care.
He sold the S690 backup combine to a farmer in Colorado. He sold the 8R tractors, the 6M series, the 5 series utility units. Implements, sprayers, anything green. Some of it went to auction, some through private sale, some to dealers two states away. Every piece went fast, because used Deere equipment still had value, even when the owner had lost faith in it.
Within 90 days, Rick had cleared $2.7 million, and he spent nearly all of it at Johnston Ag. The new fleet arrived in waves. Two Massey Ferguson Ideal 9 combines, red and silver, side by side in his machine shed like sculptures. Three Massey Ferguson 8S 265 tractors, 265 horsepower, continuously variable transmission, the kind of precision control that made old gear drive units feel like hammers. Two MF 7S series mid-range tractors for loader work in hay season.
One MF 5S utility tractor for feeding cattle and moving equipment. All of it Massey Ferguson red, all of it from Johnston Ag, all of it serviced by a dealer 83 miles away who treated Rick like he mattered. By mid-September, Rick's operation looked like it had been repainted overnight. No green, just red. And the entire county noticed.
Tom Huxley noticed, too. The first sign came when Rick called Huxley and Sons to order a PTO shaft for an old Deere baler he'd kept. One of the few green machines he hadn't sold because it still worked and wasn't worth replacing. The parts desk put him on hold for 11 minutes.
When they came back, the voice was clipped. "Yeah, we don't have that in stock." "Can you order it?" "It's discontinued."
Rick frowned. "It's a current production baler. How is the part discontinued?" "That's what the system says." "Can you check again?"
"I did. It's not available." Rick hung up. He drove to the dealership the next day.
Walked into the parts department, asked to speak to the manager. The manager, Kurt, a guy Rick had known for 8 years, came out with his arms crossed. "What can I do for you, Rick?"
"I need a PTO shaft for a 569 baler. Your guy told me it's discontinued. I know that's not true."
Kurt looked at his computer, clicked a few keys. "Hmm. Yeah, looks like we can get it, but it's special order now. 4-week lead time." "4 weeks for a PTO shaft?"
"Supply chain issues. You know how it is." Rick stared at him. "Kurt, I've bought parts from you for 15 years. You've never made me wait 4 weeks for a shaft."
Kurt shrugged. "Things change." Rick felt the message loud and clear. He left without ordering.
And he called the AGCO parts supplier in Kansas. They had the shaft in stock. It arrived in 3 days. The retaliation didn't stop there. 2 weeks later, Rick's 8R tractor, one of the last Deere machines he'd kept for finish mowing, developed a hydraulic leak.
Small issue, quick fix, but it needed a seal kit. He called Huxley and Sons. The service manager told him they couldn't schedule him for 2 weeks. "I just need a seal kit," Rick said. "I'll install it myself."
"We don't have it in stock." "Can you overnight it?" "We don't do rush orders anymore."
Rick hung up. He called a Deere dealer in Kansas. They had the kit. Shipped it same day, but the pattern was forming.
Every time Rick needed something from Huxley and Sons, it was suddenly unavailable, delayed, special order, back-ordered. His phone calls started going to voicemail. Service appointments got rescheduled. At the co-op in McCook, Rick started hearing whispers. "Heard you went full red."
"Tom Huxley's not happy about it." "You really think those Massey Fergusons are going to hold up?" Rick didn't respond. He just kept working.
October came, corn harvest. Rick ran both Ideal 9 combines through 800 acres of irrigated corn, cutting at 5.1 mph, with grain loss under 0.4% and fuel consumption 22% better than his old S-series Deeres. The machines didn't miss a beat. No breakdowns, no delays, no 3-week parts waits.
When he needed a concave adjustment kit, he called Johnston Ag at 7:00 a.m. Dale had it couriered to Rick's farm by 2:00 p.m. the same day. "That's how we do it," Dale said.
Rick started doing the math. In a normal year, he'd spend $18,000 in parts and service with Huxley and Sons. Emergency calls, preventive maintenance, filters, belts, fluids. Now, he was spending it with Johnston Ag and getting faster responses.
Huxley and Sons had lost an $18,000-a-year customer. And they knew it. November, Rick was at the McCook Farm Bureau meeting. Monthly gathering, 30 guys, coffee and gossip in a community center basement. Tom Huxley was there.
He didn't sit near Rick, didn't acknowledge him. But halfway through the meeting, during open discussion, Tom stood up. "I just want to say something," Tom said. "There's been a lot of talk lately about brand loyalty, about who supports local businesses and who doesn't."
The room went quiet. Tom didn't look at Rick, but everyone else did.
"We've been here for 50 years," Tom continued. "We've supported this community. We financed guys when banks wouldn't. We've kept people running when parts were scarce. And I think it's worth remembering that loyalty goes both ways."
He sat down. Rick felt 30 pairs of eyes on him. He didn't respond, didn't defend himself, just drank his coffee and waited for the meeting to end.
But the message landed. Tom Huxley wasn't just mad. He was making Rick a cautionary tale.
December brought the test Rick had been dreading. Calving season prep. He needed his equipment running flawlessly. Tractors for feeding, loaders for bedding. Reliability in sub-zero temperatures where a breakdown could mean dead calves and financial disaster.
The Massey Fergusons had never seen a Nebraska winter. The old-timers at the co-op reminded him of that. "Those fancy red tractors work great in August," one guy said. "Let's see how they do in January when it's 12 below and the hydraulics freeze."
Rick didn't argue. He just made sure his MF 8S and 7S tractors were prepped. Synthetic fluids, block heaters, cold weather fuel treatments. The first cold snap hit on December 9, 6° Fahrenheit at 5:00 a.m. Rick walked out to his machine shed, climbed into the 8S.265, turned the key.
It fired on the first crank. No hesitation, no sluggish starter, just clean ignition and smooth idle. He ran it for 3 hours feeding 240 head of cattle, moving big bales, operating the loader with hydraulic response that didn't fade in the cold. The tractor didn't flinch. Rick smiled for the first time in months.
But Tom Huxley wasn't done. In early January, Rick got a call from his bank. First National of McCook, the same bank that financed his land purchase in 2004, his equipment upgrades in 2011 and 2017. The loan officer, Gary Went, asked Rick to come in for a meeting.
Rick walked into Gary's office on a Thursday morning. Gary was polite, professional, but there was tension in his voice. "Rick, I wanted to talk to you about your equipment financing. You've got $340,000 outstanding on implements and machinery, correct?" "That's right."
"And you recently liquidated your John Deere fleet and replaced it with Massey Ferguson." Rick's jaw tightened. "I did."
"Well, we've had some concerns raised about resale value. Deere equipment holds value better in this region. If we ever had to repossess—" "You're not going to repossess anything," Rick said. "I've never missed a payment."
"I know, but we have to consider asset depreciation. Massey Ferguson isn't as strong in the secondary market here. We'd like you to increase your collateral coverage by 15%." Rick stared at him. "You want me to put up more collateral because I switched brands?"
Gary shifted in his seat. "It's just a risk assessment." "Did Tom Huxley call you?" Gary didn't answer.
Rick stood up. "I'll refinance somewhere else." "Rick, we're done."
Rick walked out. 2 days later, he secured financing through Frontier Bank in Kearney, the same town where Johnston Ag operated. Better rate, no collateral increase, no brand loyalty clause. When Gary called to apologize, Rick didn't pick up.
February, calving season in full swing, 14-hour days, sub-zero nights, equipment running non-stop. Rick's MF 7S.165 tractor logged 340 hours in 30 days. Feeding, hauling, bedding. Pulling calves in pasture corrals where grip and power mattered more than speed. Not one breakdown, not one service call.
When a hydraulic line blew on the loader, Rick called Johnston Ag. They had the replacement hose in stock. Rick drove up, grabbed it, installed it himself in 40 minutes. If he'd still been running Deere and called Huxley and Sons, a 2-week back order.
Rick was learning something that went beyond horsepower and fuel efficiency. Freedom had a value, and it wasn't measured in resale percentages. March, planting prep. Rick needed seed, fertilizer, and chemical. His usual supplier was Huxley Agronomy, a sister company to Huxley and Sons equipment, run by Tom's brother Jeff.
Rick had bought from them for 12 years. He called to place his order. Jeff answered. "Yeah, Rick, we're a little tight on inventory this year. I'm not sure we can prioritize your acres."
Rick kept his voice even. "Jeff, I've been buying from you since 2011. You've never had inventory issues before." "Well, things are different now. Suppliers are favoring long-term loyal customers."
The subtext was clear. Rick hung up. He drove to Landmark Cooperative in Holbrook, 30 miles west, placed his full seed and chemical order. They had everything in stock. Better pricing than Huxley Agronomy had offered the year before.
Rick loaded his truck and drove home. He was done playing defense. April, spring planting. Rick ran his three MF 8S.265 tractors through 2,100 acres of corn and soybeans in 17 days. The CVT transmission let him adjust speed on the fly without shifting.
The hydraulics gave him precise control on planter depth in variable soil. The fuel efficiency meant fewer stops, fewer refills, more acres per day. His neighbor, Bill Kesterson, a lifelong Deere operator running two 8R tractors, finished his 1,900 acres in 19 days. Rick's Massey Fergusons planted more ground faster on less fuel. Bill didn't say anything, but he stopped making jokes about those red tractors.
May, Rick was fueling up at the co-op in McCook when he saw Tom Huxley's truck pull in. Tom stepped out, saw Rick, walked over. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Tom said, "You made your point."
Rick looked at him. "What point is that?" "That you don't need us." "I never said that," Rick replied. "You're the one who decided I didn't matter anymore."
Tom's face hardened. "You walked away from 30 years of relationship. My family sold to your family. We financed you when—"
"You left me hanging," Rick cut him off. "I had a combine down in the middle of harvest and you told me to wait 3 weeks. I couldn't wait. So, I found someone who wouldn't make me."
"And now you're running equipment no one around here services. What happens when those Massey Fergusons break down and Johnston Ag can't get you parts?" Rick met his eyes. "Then I'll deal with it. But at least I'll be dealing with a company that treats me like I'm worth their time."
Tom shook his head. "You're going to regret this." "Maybe," Rick said. "But it'll be my regret, not yours."
Tom walked back to his truck. They didn't speak again. June 2024. One year since the S780 transmission failure. Rick stood in his shop looking at the lineup of Massey Ferguson equipment that had carried his operation through a full cycle.
Two Ideal 9 combines with 680 combined hours, zero breakdowns. Three 8S tractors with 240 hours between them, one hydraulic hose and one fuel filter housing. That was it. Two 7S tractors with 890 hours. Flawless.
Total maintenance cost for the year, $11,400. Previous year with Deere, $24,300. Fuel savings, $16,800. Downtime, nearly zero. Rick pulled out his phone and opened his accounting software.
Net income for 2024, $447,000. Best year he'd ever had.
Not because of market prices, those were average. Not because of yield, that was normal. Because his equipment worked. Because he didn't spend 3 weeks waiting for parts. Because when he called his dealer, someone answered.
July. Wheat harvest again. Rick ran both Ideal 9 combines through his fields at speeds that made his old S-series machines look cautious. He finished 2,400 acres in 9 days. Bill Kesterson, running his Deere S790, took 11.
At the co-op, the conversation shifted. "How are those Massey Fergusons holding up? Heard Rick's already done with wheat. Johnston Ag treating him right?"
The doubt was fading. Not because Rick defended himself, because the numbers didn't lie. August. Rick got a text from Dale Richter at Johnston Ag.
"Got a guy two counties over asking about switching his fleet. Gave him your number. Hope that's cool."
Rick smiled. He called the guy that night. Spent an hour on the phone answering questions, sharing his experience, walking him through the transition. At the end of the call, the guy said, "Did you ever regret it?"
Rick thought about it. He thought about the dealers who stopped returning his calls, the bank that questioned his decisions, the neighbors who waited for him to fail, the dealership plaque with his name on it still hanging in a showroom he'd never walk into again. And then he thought about his shop full of equipment that worked. "No," Rick said. "Not once."
September 2024. Rick was combining corn when he saw a truck pull into his driveway. He recognized it immediately. Tom Huxley.
Rick shut down the combine and climbed out. Tom walked over, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. "I'm not here to fight," Tom said. Rick nodded. "All right."
"I'm here because I wanted to say something I should have said a year ago." Tom took a breath. "You were right. We didn't treat you the way we should have and we lost you because of it." Rick didn't respond.
Tom continued. "I'm not asking you to come back. I know that's not happening. But I wanted you to know that we've changed some things. Response times, parts inventory, how we handle guys when they're in a bind. Because watching you leave made us realize we'd gotten comfortable."
Rick studied him. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because you're not the first guy who thought about switching. You're just the first one who actually did it. And I don't want to lose anyone else the way we lost you."
Tom extended his hand. Rick shook it. Not because the past was forgotten, but because the message had finally been received.
October 2024. Rick's operation ran flawlessly. Two combines, six tractors, all Massey Ferguson red.
He wasn't fighting anyone anymore. He wasn't proving anything. He was just farming. With equipment that worked, a dealer that answered, and a fleet that didn't make him beg for parts or wait for someone to care. At the McCook co-op, guys started asking more questions.
"What's the difference between the 8S and the 7S? How's the parts availability really been? You think Johnston Ag would work with me?" Rick answered honestly every time.
And every time, he saw the same thing in their eyes. The realization that loyalty only works when it runs both ways. Rick Hollander didn't switch to Massey Ferguson to make a statement. He switched because he couldn't afford not to. And in doing so, he learned something the hard way.
The brand on the side of your tractor doesn't matter as much as the people who answer the phone when it breaks. The legacy you inherit doesn't matter as much as the operation you can sustain. And sometimes the most expensive decision you can make is staying loyal to something that stopped being loyal to you.
Rick runs Massey Ferguson now. Not because it's red, but because it runs. And because when he calls his dealer, they pick up. That's the only loyalty that pays.