Estill established proper S.C. Lowcountry storage as need increased–but it cost a life

A view of large concrete silos with metal frameworks and structures, set against a grey sky.

Story by Ronald Ahrens and photos by Kristen Cart

Having come straight from the fields, trucks were lined up for half a block, and sight of them and the brand-new gleaming white grain-storage tanks built for Harper and Bowers made J.M. Eleazer catch his breath.

“They shot 107 feet into the sky!” Eleazer, the Clemson University extension information specialist, wrote in his South Carolina newspaper column. “It looked like we were in the Mid-west.”

The Hampton County extension agent was guiding him around the town of Estill in early June of 1952.

Historic grain elevator in Estill, South Carolina, standing 149 feet tall with a capacity of 125,000 bushels.
Burrell elevator of 1951

“And the way oats and lupine seed were pouring in there,” Eleazer continued, “I didn’t doubt that they would be filled.” (Lupines were grown as a cover crop in that part of South Carolina about 50 miles north of Savannah, Ga. 

Tillotson Construction Co. had just finished a 225,000-bushel storage annex to go with the 125,000-bushel elevator built in 1951 by Thomas L. Burrell, Inc. of Indianapolis.

The nine tanks of the new annex measured 18 feet in diameter and reached 108.5 feet in height.

Eleazer’s rhapsody continued in detail:

“The whole vast outfit is practically a push-button arrangement. The grain comes in big loads in bulk. A gate is opened in the back and a hoist raises the front of the vehicle so the grain pours out the back. It falls through a grating into a pit where conveyers get it and take it to the top of the elevators. There it runs through a dryer, cleaner, and grader and right on into the proper storage bin.

A grayscale portrait of a middle-aged man with a serious expression, wearing a suit and tie.
J.M. Eleazer

“Some of the grain and lupine seed was being sold, some was going into the government loan, and some was being stored for the farmers. Each lot was sampled, graded, tested, cleaned and dried, and a simple punching of buttons told it where to go. 

“Such safe storage brings grain, corn, and legume seeds into the full stature of dependable money crops. For, handled in that manner, they become about as bankable a commodity as our friend cotton.”

Eleazer ranked Estill as a leader and an example in South Carolina, where grain-producing areas …

” … had gone about as far as they can in diversifying with such crops until suitable storage and marketing arrangements can be made … there are many farming sections ripe for just such a service now. And a facility like that stimulates such crops a lot. For when a man tastes of that service he has more confidence in those crops as sources of cash.

“You really feel like you are out in the grain belt when you stand and look up to those many great concrete towers.”

By Oct. 30, 1953, after Tillotson completed a brand-new twin-leg elevator of 334,000-bushel capacity, It had ten tanks measuring 18 feet and reaching 120 feet in height.

Eleazer provided an update:

“They tell me that vast facility at Estill has had to turn away grain and seeds seeking storage all along. It stays loaded to the gills.”

Eleazer left out an important detail after his site visit. Perhaps he hadn’t been informed, or perhaps he wanted to avoid the subject.

In 2014, Kristen visited Estill for Our Grandfathers’ Grain Elevators. She reported: “The histories neglect one of the Estill elevator’s darker episodes. In the ’40s and ’50s, construction safety was not mandated as it is now. In one of the accidents that was all too common for elevator construction, Wayne Eugene Baker lost his life in a fall while working on the storage addition, or annex, built in 1952. For all of the heartache, Wayne helped build a thing of beauty that sustained its neighborhood for many years and still brings economic benefit to its region.

Article detailing the tragic death of Wayne Baker, a 23-year-old construction worker who died after falling from a scaffold in Estill, with information about the incident and funeral arrangements.

Estill, March 19 –Wayne Baker, 23, of Pine River, Minn., who worked with the Tillotson Construction company of Omaha, Neb., was instantly killed Tuesday morning when a scaffold broke and he fell one hundred and eight feet to the ground. The Tillotson company is constructing grain elevators for Stiles M. Harper and Grover F. Bowers of here. The body of Mr. Baker is being shipped to Staples, Minn., where funeral services and interment will be held. 

A scaffold broke! Unthinkable! How could that have happened? A young man lost his life in a preventable accident. Today, there would likely be criminal charges against the company. But back then, it was every man for himself; the mind’s eye didn’t hold even a glimmer of greater precautions.

One wonders if Tillotson Construction made a financial accommodation with the young man’s family. We have no record of that.

Home-movie images from Alta, Iowa elevator site in 1950, Part II

Two individuals stand on a platform, with one wearing a blue jacket and the other a black jacket, against a blurred background.

Among the still images isolated by Mindi Adkins from an archival home-movie is the selection of on-the job scenes we present in this post.

Mindi’s grandfather, Ben E. Schmidt, worked for Tillotson Construction Co. on thirteen elevator jobs in six states, starting in his hometown of Montezuma, Kan. That was in 1948. Ben and some of his brothers, including Fred Schmidt who operated the movie camera, stayed with the company for a couple of years. We know two of the subsequent destinations were Montevideo, Minn. and Alta, Iowa, as described in previous posts.

Mindi says the movie film is likely from Alta in 1950. Ben’s wife Ruth became pregnant during that job, so they went back to Montezuma to have the baby. In time, the baby, Pearl, grew up and had her own baby, Mindi.

A group of men in work attire standing outside a partially constructed building, with one man visible inside a doorway.

Among the figures appearing in these scenes, Mindi says she’s pretty sure the blue-clad one with his back to the camera in the topmost image is Ben’s brother-in-law Jake Unruh.

Jake Michael Unruh was born in Montezuma, Kan. in 1919. He married Alda Schmidt in 1948. After elevator work, he had a career as a farmer, dairyman, and custom-harvester.

His brother-in-law Ben owned a custom-harvesting operation.

It’s hard to guess the nature of the tasks being done in these images. Suffice it to say everything appears to be well-organized. We note the crew’s rugged garb and the abundance of tools and work stations.

One image includes two late-model General Motors cars–probably Chevrolets. Do they belong to elevator crew members?

Some images show work being done on a frame structure instead of anything to do with the wooden formwork for cylindrical elevator storage tanks. If this work was on an office, mill, or other grain storage building, we don’t see notes in the construction record to describe it.

Even if some imagination is required in reconstituting the activities caught in progress, these rare color images are a valuable resource for their depictions of job layout, tools and methods, and teamwork.

We’re grateful to Mindi for sharing them.

For her part, Mindi says, “I’m hoping someone reading the blog recognizes someone from the video.”

Pages 7 and 7A of Tillotson Construction record, 1951 to 1953, York, Nebr. to Helena, Okla.

Grain silos in a rural landscape, captured in black and white, with a nearby telephone pole and some sparse trees.

Pages 7 and 7A of the Tillotson Construction Co. record document the stretch from late-1951 to 1953 when the company reached deep into the Southeast as a builder of reinforced-concrete grain-storage buildings, completing main-house elevators and/or storage annexes at sixteen locations.

The Omaha company led by Reginald O. Tillotson and Mary V. Tillotson produced 3,186,820 bushels of new capacity in this period. Jobs were in ten states: Nebraska (2), Kansas (1), Colorado (1), South Dakota (1), Iowa (2), Illinois (1), Oklahoma (3), Texas (1), South Carolina (3), and Georgia (1).

Here’s the complete list of the sixteen locations: York and Fairfield, Nebr.; Estill (2) and Millet Ville, S.C; Draper, S.D.; Manson and Ralston, Iowa; Conlen, Tex.; Meno, Cherokee, and Helena, Okla.; Columbia, Ill.; Jamestown, Kan.; and Flagler, Colo.

At Helena, as seen at the top of this post, Tillotson had built the 100,000-bushel main house with the curved cupola in 1949 and added 200,000 bushels of storage in 1953. Provenance of the second elevator is unknown.

The smallest commission was a curious 18,600-bushel elevator at Millet Ville, S.C. in 1952.

Called “Millet” today, Millet Ville was an unincorporated area on the Savannah River about 40 miles from August, Ga. The Atlantic Coast Line served this Lowcountry area. We are unable to learn anything more about the project, which is an outlier in every sense.

Notes in the record show Millet Ville with five bins measuring 10 feet in diameter and reaching 50 feet in height. There were eight internal bins and a 300-bushel-per-hour leg.

The facility was built without a driveway.

The Millet Ville cupola was of frame construction, and the manlift was hand-operated.

Our Tillotson uncles worked on the Flagler job in 1953 and took some valuable pictures, starting with construction of the first formwork next-door to the old wood elevator.

The elevator at Estill, S.C. was for Harper and Bowers, an outfit with 715,000 bushels of storage. It came at a time when grain production was expanding in the Palmetto State and Midwestern expertise was needed for storage.

Following the plan first used at Cedar Bluffs, Nebr., Tillotson also built a 130,000-bushel elevator on the old Macon Road at Orchard Hill, Ga.

Historical marker for the first grain elevator in Georgia, detailing its construction in 1946 and capacity of 108,000 bushels.

A plaque established by the Georgia Historical Society gives the date as 1954, but our record differs on that point. A search shows the elevator remains standing but is not in operation today.

The largest commission was the 537,500-bushel storage annex at another dot on the map, Ralston, Iowa.

Meno, Okla. is yet another dot on the map–but one we visited in 2018. The photos from that visit show two elevators. We believe Tillotson built both of them, but we only have the record of the smaller one–152,000 bushels–seen at the right in the above photos. Concrete-pouring started on Dec. 26, 1952 and the job was finished by late-March of 1953.

Photos, postcards open window on Montevideo, Minn. crewman and family

Weathered white wall with a closed metal roll-up door and rusted supports.

By Ronald Ahrens with photos by Mindi Adkins

In a tip-of-the-iceberg moment, Our Grandfathers’ Grain Elevators has received a fresh take on the Montevideo, Minn. elevator built in 1949 by Tillotson Construction Co., and it opens a door on the personal lives of crew members.

Mindi Adkins stopped by Montevideo en route from South Dakota and took pictures of the elevator.

“My grandpa Ben Schmidt helped build that elevator and many others,” Mindi explains.

Montevideo happens to be Tillotson’s “cover girl” elevator featured in the January 1950 issue of Farmers Elevator Guide. The story behind the story is that six unions filed a strike notice as the job got going the previous summer. One way or other, work was completed in the autumn and Farmers Equity Elevator Co. dedicated their new grain house on Dec. 30, 1949.

Mindi’s revelation has an additional personal element, as her contribution also includes postcards to her grandparents. One is addressed to them at Watson’s Cabins in Montevideo. The other is general delivery.

Ruth Toews Schmidt was from Montezuma, Kan. (site of another Tillotson elevator). She and Ben E. Schmidt married on May 20, 1945. They soon went to Colorado Springs, where Ben was assigned to a Civilian Public Service camp, serving two years. He came home and worked on Tillotson’s 1948 Montezuma elevator.

“My grandma Ruth told me that when they were building the Montezuma elevator, Ben jumped the gap between the two elevators at the top!” Mindi says. “I wish I knew how many feet it is, but Ruth didn’t approve!”

Afterwards, the couple went on the circuit of elevator jobs.

Mindi elaborates on the question of elevator construction:

“I did get some information from Grandma. She told me all the elevators she remembered that Grandpa worked on–approximately 13 in seven different states. Then several years ago, my grandpa’s brother Lincoln, who also worked on elevators, told me the Tillotson name.”

After working in Montevideo, Ben was part of Tillotson’s crew at Alta, Iowa in 1950. Ruth became pregnant during that time.

“My grandma was weary of moving so much and requested that she go home to Kansas for the baby to be born. So Grandpa took off work, and my mom, Pearl, was born in Montezuma in June 1950.”

Smiling elderly man with a white beard and glasses, wearing a light-colored shirt, posed in front of wooden furniture.
Ben E. Schmidt

After their elevator work ended, Ben and Ruth settled in Osceola, S.D. and took up farming. They raised three daughters and one son. 

A historical advertisement for a Guernsey milk cow, including contact information for the seller.
The Daily Plainsman, Dec. 9, 1966

Lore from the elevator years continued to circulate within the Schmidt family. Mindi’s uncle Lincoln told of working on Tillotson’s elevator at Stromsburg, Nebr. and falling in love with a girl who lived there. “He could see from the top of the elevator when she arrived home from work. They did marry and raise a family.”

Ben and Ruth Schmidt left South Dakota for Oklahoma in 1967. Ruth, who loved to sing, worked as a nurse and caregiver. Ben had a custom-combining business. He died in 1997.

Mindi migrated back to South Dakota in the early 1990s. Her grandmother Ruth died in 2016 in Kansas.

The Schmidts represent Tillotson Construction as exemplars of hard work, sacrifice, and resourcefulness. Our Grandfathers’ Grain Elevators is honored to record their achievements.

Not even ‘by fits and starts’ applies to Tillotson Construction Co. in Missouri

A view of large concrete silos used for grain storage, with a loading mechanism and a crane in the background under a clear blue sky.

By Ronald Ahrens with Brad Perry

As with Minnesota, where we know of just two jobs, we have to ask why Tillotson Construction Co. did so little work in the state of Missouri. After all, it’s an agricultural leader, a noteworthy part of the Grain Belt, ranking eighth in corn production. Tillotson built plenty of elevators in neighboring states. All we have to show for work in the Show-Me State is a 1951 elevator at Malta Bend.

An irony in this comes from the fact that Charles H. Tillotson was born in Brunswick, Mo. in 1877. In the mid-1920s, when he worked for Van Ness Construction Co., there was involvement with a wood elevator in Wilcox, Mo.

Announcement about G. A. Sallee purchasing an idle elevator in Wilcox, Missouri, previously owned by the R. M. Van Ness Construction Co.

Wouldn’t it be interesting to know details of how Van Ness ended up as owner of an elevator that it likely enough built?

After the death of my great-grandfather Charles H. in 1938, sons Reginald (my grandfather) and Joe (great uncle) launched Tillotson Construction Co. to build grain elevators of reinforced concrete.

For a concrete elevator, Malta Bend was “tiny” with capacity of 50,000 bushels. There were four tanks measuring 12.5 feet in diameter and reaching 90 feet in height.

Map showing the location of a town in Missouri, highlighting its position within the state and surrounding counties.
Malta Bend, Saline County, Missouri via Wikipedia

I asked contributor Brad Perry for his take on Missouri. His reasoning follows:

Until modern genetics, reduced tillage, and other tech advances, Missouri agriculture North of the Missouri River was “subsistence.” Similar to southwest and south-central Iowa below Interstate 80. The primary crop-growing regions were the valleys north and south of the Missouri River, chunks of eastern Missouri adjacent to the Mississippi River, and in the Bootheel.

Yes, there are some 1940s and 1950s concrete elevators (or earlier) but they tend to be barge-loaders or feed-soybean-wheat processors. 

Missouri’s grain business has been dominated by two companies, both of which are cooperatives. One is MFA, or Missouri Farmers Association, headquartered in Columbia. The other is Ray-Carroll County Grain Growers, of Richmond, Mo. I have worked with both–quite extensively with Ray-Carroll. 

Exterior view of a grain elevator with silos marked MFA, located beside a highway with a for sale sign in the foreground.
MFA complex at Brunswick, Mo. by Brad Perry

A third factor in Missouri grain markets has been St. Louis, which was the primary destination of any grain not already loaded on barges on the Missouri River. Ray-Carroll has an elevator in St. Louis. 

Finally, the Missouri grain world changed with large trains. Ray-Carroll was the leader in this for Missouri. They geared up for 54-car (now 110-car) Burlington Northern trains at Hardin (seen in Brad’s photo at the top of this post); 50- and then 75-car trains at Norborne (“Soybean Capital of the World”); and 75- and then 100-car trains at Carrollton. 

Ray-Carroll next built greenfield shuttle loaders at Slater and Corder–their first moves on the south side of the Missouri River. They have also turned their Brunswick location into a Burlington Northern shuttle loader. 

MFA has tried to follow suit with a greenfield loader at Hamilton, along with upgrading a couple of other facilities.

Page 5 of Tillotson Construction record, 1949 to 1950, Wapello, Iowa to Rock Valley, Iowa

A large grain silo complex with multiple white silos against a cloudy sky.

Page 5 of the Tillotson Construction Co. record documents the stretch in 1949 to 1950 when the company extended its accomplishments as a builder of reinforced-concrete grain-storage buildings, completing main-house elevators or annexes at sixteen locations.

The Omaha company led by Reginald O. Tillotson and Mary V. Tillotson produced 3,744,000 bushels of new capacity in this period. Jobs were in six states: Iowa (3), Nebraska (1), Kansas (1), Colorado (3), Oklahoma (5) and Texas (3). 

A detailed construction record chart for concrete elevators, featuring columns for items, measurements, and cost totals, with entries for various project locations and specifications.

Here’s the complete list of locations: Wapello, Alta, and Rock Valley, Iowa; Bellwood, Nebr.; Clifton, Kan.; Seibert, Burlington, and Flagler, Colo.; Bushland, Canyon, and Hartley, Tex.; and Helena, Imo, Drummond, Pond Creek, and Kildare, Okla. 

Bushland, Tex. is pictured at the top of this post.

Tillotson was in its maximalist phase. The average among these sixteen jobs was 234,000 bushels. Not bad for a company that a decade earlier (with time off during World War Two) started with 60,000 bushels at Goltry, Okla. 

The smallest commission was the 100,000-bushel storage annex at Helena, Okla,, where Tillotson had built the main house two years earlier. Its capacity, too, was 100,000 bushels. 

Largest in this group were the 320,000-bushel elevators at Canyon, Tex. and Bellwood, Nebr. Both followed the same plan with eight tanks measuring 20 feet in diameter and reaching 120 feet in height. There were 22 internal bins and a dust bin.

A digital copy of Page 5A of the records, giving more complete specifications, isn’t available for this post.

Rising from the plain, a bean house has a concave cupola in Dove Creek, Colo.

Close-up of a silo with antennas and equipment on top, against a blue sky.

Story by Ronald Ahrens with photography by Mark Vaughn

Crossing from Utah into Colorado on U.S. 491 leaves a traveler with very little to look at. The landscape is wide open and featureless, giving extra significance to architectural wonders that may be encountered. As he left the Beehive State on this route and approached Dove Creek, Colo., our friend Mark Vaughn found his drifting thoughts interrupted by the stirring sight of a concrete elevator.

A person riding a green bicycle on a paved path surrounded by greenery in a sunny outdoor setting.
Mark Vaughn

Vaughn’s thoughts then turned to his favorite blog, Despite being overcome by mad inspiration, he kept his car on the road while taking a picture through the windshield.

As West Coast editor for Autoweek, keeping cars on the road has been a Vaughn specialty for thirty-seven years. His interest in elevators is a more recent development and redounds to our benefit.

With contoured sides, an overhanging brow, and twin rectangular windows as “eyes,” the bare concrete structure at Dove Creek looks like a tall, broad-shouldered robot. Studying the results of Vaughn’s scouting leaves us marveling at the concave cupola, which is of a rare design.

Who built this elevator? And when? The answer could well be on the cast-iron plate covering the manhole. This plate is seen near the bottom of the left-side tank. We wouldn’t be surprised if embossed lettering names Mayer-Osborn Construction Co., of Denver, as the builder. Mayer-Osborn had incorporated curvature up top into its design vocabulary during the company’s early 1950s heyday.

Alas, Vaughn’s high rate of speed precluded his stopping in order to climb up and read the plate.

Our call to High Country Elevators, Inc., of Dove Creek, has not been returned. Nor has anything turned up in our search of newspaper archives.

A tall concrete grain silo next to a small building, set against a blue sky with wispy clouds.

Dryland bean production is big in southwestern Colorado, and elevator capacity at Dove Creek is devoted to pinto beans. If indeed this was a Mayer-Osborn job, we can’t say our grandfathers always built grain elevators. Sometimes they built bean elevators.

A large concrete grain silo next to a metal storage building, with a white silo and a rolling door visible in the foreground.

The Dove Creek Press probably holds answers to our questions, but that newspaper is archived on microfilm at the Colorado Historical Society. Because Vaughn didn’t stop there either, we won’t know anytime soon.

Approaching the northern limit for concrete elevators at Jackson, Minn.

A tall grain silo with three cylindrical sections, set against a clear sky, featuring electrical wires in the foreground and nearby buildings.

By Ronald Ahrens with Brad Perry

Tillotson Construction Co. completed an elevator at Jackson, Minn., seven miles north of the Iowa state line, and it remains in use. We would like to say more about its history, but too little is clear. The completion photo seen above comes from Tillotson archives. “Jackson, Minn” is scrawled across the back in pencil without a date.

Attempts to access Jackson County Pilot newspaper archives failed.

Additionally, there’s no entry for the Jackson elevator in company records, although there is an entry for 100,000 bushels of storage in 1949. Here’s the link to all specs from that job.

A grain elevator facility with large silos and industrial equipment under a blue sky.
Tillotson elevator at the center in Jackson, Minn. Photo by Brad Perry

Instead of historical details of the elevator’s construction, we offer some perspective about what makes grain storage in Minnesota and the Dakotas a different matter as compared to other Grain Belt states just to the south, namely, Iowa and Nebraska, where concrete elevators abound.

Ronald: Do you have a take on why Tillotson built only a couple of elevators in Minnesota?

Brad: There were, and still are, some old-line construction companies in Minnesota that built a number of elevators in both Minnesota and Iowa.

Ronald: As we go north, concrete seems to lose its advantages.

Brad: Wood elevators were still being built in the 1970s in Minnesota and the Dakotas. I was always told that wood is a much better insulator (Duh!) and maintains grain quality better in cold climates.

Grain silos and warehouses alongside a railway track, with a water tower visible in the background and greenery in the foreground.
Wood elevator complex at Minnesota Lake, Minn. Photo by Brad Perry
A large, gray grain elevator building stands against a cloudy sky, featuring multiple storage silos and loading equipment, with a nearby stop sign and train crossing sign.
Wood elevator at Bricelyn, Minn. Photo by Brad Perry

Brad (continued): All over Minnesota you’ll find 100,000- and even 200,000-bushel wood houses and especially annexes. Concrete in Jackson makes sense—it’s about on the Iowa line. I can still remember a wood house for the Sisseton, S.D. co-op that we financed in 1976 at over $5 per bushel, which was two times the cost of concrete at that time.

Ronald: I went through Sisseton once. It’s near the North Dakota line. That’s as close as I ever came to North Dakota.

Brad: Another reason could also be due to livestock. Other than the southern two tiers of counties, Minnesota producers fed their corn to dairy cattle, hogs, and turkeys so that somewhat less of the collective storage was required. Minnesota is still the number-one state for turkey production.

Overcoming 1949 labor strife, Tillotson built a ‘cover girl’ in Montevideo, Minn.

By Ronald Ahrens

Not every job produced a beautiful enough result for the cover of Farmers Elevator Guide, but Tillotson’s 99,000-bushel elevator at Montevideo, Minn. made the grade in January of 1950. This ingenue hardly derailed the flourishing pinup careers of Marilyn Monroe and Bettie Page. Yet, by its own graces, the comely house at Montevideo merited exposure.

Image featuring silos under a cloudy sky with the text 'Labor Day 2026' prominently displayed.

How odd it is that such glory emanated from a state where Tillotson Construction Co. did little work.

It appears to be so because of a combination of factors. For one thing, agricultural practices were different in the northern part of the Grain Belt. For another, extreme winter weather there may have militated against the advantages of concrete construction. And then again, a tough labor climate may have made the company reticent about bidding on additional Minnesota contracts.

It can be established the company was active in Minnesota as early as 1943 when a Help Wanted ad ran in the Minneapolis Star Tribune.

Job advertisement for experienced mechanics for country grain elevator construction by Tillotson Construction Co., Omaha, Nebraska.

Yet our study of records reveals just two elevators of reinforced-concrete that the company built in the North Star state. We might be able to explain the small number, but first we must consider the story of a strike threat.

Tillotson started to prepare the build for Farmers Equity Elevator Co. early in the summer of 1949, but six unions–laborers, drivers, electricians, carpenters, iron workers, and equipment operators–filed a strike notice against the company on July 25. So much of Tillotson’s work until then had been on the western prairies and the Great Plains, which is to say it occurred in a kind of void.

Minnesota was a different story. It was emphatically not Kansas or Oklahoma, where laissez-faire practices prevailed. For one thing, Senator Hubert Humphrey was in his first term in Washington, D.C. after being elected on the Democratic-Farmer-Labor ticket. And we speculate that unions were on the prowl, compensating for the loss of government contracts after World War Two.

There’s no record of reactions to the notice by John Evans, who led Farmers Equity, or by the other members of the board of directors: N.F. Nelson, E.J. Jorgenson, Nels Larson, and Clifford Canton. 

My grandfather Reginald Tillotson may or may not have been sympathetic to organized labor, but it’s unlikely that he appreciated the strong-arming attempt by six unions. It led to an unwelcome delay. People were left twiddling their thumbs until matters got settled. The company surely incurred unanticipated costs. Meanwhile, in a continuous-pour operation, how would a small flexible crew observe union work rules?

Filing the strike notice earned the unions a ten-day waiting period before Harry Hanson, the Minnesota labor conciliator, came to Kandiyohi County to hear the case.

As reported in the West Central Tribune, of Willmar, the unions charged bias by Tillotson.

‘The company is discriminating against union members of the various building trade crafts and is refusing to discuss or sign the standard union agreements in effect in this area. Unless an agreement can be reached, we will be forced to strike on or after the date prescribed by law.”

When the meeting was finally held, the iffy situation was extended.

“The State Conciliator ordered that neither party take any action relative to the dispute until a further conciliation meeting has been held. The meeting was set for Tuesday in Montevideo. The Tillotson firm was represented by Wm. Russell and by Attorney Prindell of Montevideo. Union representatives were Ernest Lee, General Drivers; Harry Smith, Construction Laborers; Joe Krech, Electrical Workers; Ed Lynch, Structural Iron Workers; Dale Burchett, Operating Engineers; and a representative of the Carpenters’ local.”

What happened next is unclear except for the fact that the Montevideo elevator was finished. It was built on the plan established earlier in 1949 at Churdan, Iowa, the chief differences being it was a twin-leg house instead of single-leg and the drawform walls reached 102 feet in height instead of 100 feet. The extra leg required additional internal space. Even though both elevators had four tanks measuring 14.5 feet in diameter, total capacity at Churdan was 102,000 bushels–some 3,000 bushels greater than at Montevideo.

Remarks in the construction record indicate special provisions:

The Farmers Elevator Guide cover photo shows two men posing with scaffolding at the 13 x 17-foot driveway door. Piles of sand and gravel are nearby. The hoist remains in place on the roof, and a big sheet of something or other dangles along one side. In the lower left corner we see a wood structure.

Whatever strife was experienced, it was forgotten by the time of the dedication ceremony on Dec. 30. Tom Croll, assistant manager of the Farmers Union Grain Terminal association, came clear from St. Paul to deliver the principal address. (To our regret, none of his remarks were repeated in the Tribune.) There were other dignitaries: the Montevideo mayor, the presidents of the co-op creamery and the co-op cannery, and the assistant superintendent of the Hastings and Dakota division of the Chicago, Milwaukee, St. Paul and Pacific Railroad (the Milwaukee Road).

After speeches, Mrs. Ernie Hellervik, Basil Hendrickson, and Ruth Nelson performed songs. Following the music, the projector lit up to show promotional films produced by the Minnesota Farmers Union Grain Terminal Association.

In its report on the dedication, the Tribune became a little breathless when reciting the new elevator’s specifications and features.

The 100,000 bushel capacity of the recently completed elevator raises the total capacity of the co-operative to 125,000 bushels. Special features of the new building include its 17 bins, 50 ton and 50 foot scale, two concrete elevating legs, very modern distributing system and two section dump pit, each of which has 400 bushels capacity. Into the all-concrete structure went 8 thousand bags of cement. The firm [Farmers Equity] is particularly proud of its new type of corn drier, with a 400 bushel per hour capacity, and of its two large grain cleaners.

On Google Maps, we found the elevator in a lovely sunset photo that we don’t have the nerve to swipe for display here, so we’re providing the link and one can look for oneself: https://maps.app.goo.gl/fsx2v5ykxDhiZH8q7.

Meanwhile, it’s a pity we only have the cover image but not the full issue of Farmers Elevator Guide, because it would be interesting to see if the cover-girl elevator also appeared on the centerfold.

Excitement and drama of 1947 elevator in Rushville, Nebr., Part III

Story by Ronald Ahrens and photos by Kristen Cart

Not a stick of wood!

So boasted George Bacus, Northwest Grain Co. boss, when he announced in June of 1947 that Tillotson Construction Co. was about to start a 99,000-bushel single-leg elevator in Rushville, Nebr.

It would be based on the plan established in 1941 at Sheldon, Iowa with four tanks measuring 14.5 feet in diameter and reaching 100 feet in height.

The tab for this elevator “of the most modern design” would come to $60,000. Details of the financing were not reported.

“We have long felt the need for more storage capacity and are quadrupling the grain facilities here because we want to keep Rushville the most attractive grain market in Sheridan county,” Bacus told the Sheridan County Star.

Other towns–Gordon, Hay Springs, and Clinton–could eat their hearts out.

The Tillotson elevator would rise on the site where the old Wolvington elevator was being torn down. Walter Wolvington, an auctioneer who went into the grain business, first partnered with Lester Davis in the purchase of the Aplan elevator in Rushville. Their next move, reported in the May 15, 1925 issue of The American Elevator and Grain Trade, was to buy the Nye Schneider elevator.

The partnership may have dissolved. After more than two decades, Wolvington sold to Bacus, who since 1939 had managed Farmers Elevator in Hay Springs. A big fire at that facility led him to go into business for himself.

In a display ad of Sept. 27, 1945, Wolvington wrote:

“Having sold my elevator I want to take this means of thanking the people of this community for their business and their loyal support during the twenty-two years I have been in the grain and coal business. Your friendship and your patronage are deeply appreciated. George Bacus, the new owner, is well experienced, friendly, and co-operative and will serve you efficiently and honestly. I will continue in my auctioneer work. See me for dates.”

Combined with the Aplan elevator and Rushville Roller Mills, total capacity in Rushville would increase from 40,000 to 130,000 bushels.

Not only was it the size of the new elevator, but also the speed of operation that impressed everybody. Thanks to the 20-horsepower motor in the cupola, the pace of boxcar loading would rise from 500 to 2,200 bushels per hour.

Construction was expected to take ninety days.

In Part II of this three-part Rushville series, we detailed the important steps in construction, and indeed the work was mostly wrapped up in October. The exception, though, was the electrically operated man lift, which was only installed in February of 1948. The Star’s description is worth repeating:

“The man lift is a miniature electric elevator which will provide transportation from the basement of the elevator to the head house. It will save employees of the local grain company a lot of strenuous climbing as it is necessary to go up to the head house several times a day when grain is being loaded out. The elevator has a small wire cage, about the size of a phone booth and operates exactly like elevators in Omaha department stores. A two horsepower electric motor at the top operates a steel cable which lifts the elevator cage at the rate of ninety feet a minute. The complete trip of 110 feet from basement to headhouse takes just over a minute and is a good deal easier than climbing the iron rung stairs fastened in the side of the elevator shaft.”

The Rushville elevator served Sheridan County farmers for decades. Now, after Kristen’s visit on May 23, we figure the facility is out of service. A couple of calls to Rushville to inquire about the present status produced nothing on the present ownership. But Kristen reports:

“Windows are broken out of the headhouse, and the scale house needs paint and appears unused. Concrete foundations remain after several round bins were removed. It’s hard to tell what they were. The metal sheds and round bins seem to be in use and in good condition. When I was there, the place was deserted, but in May that is to be expected.”

We did reach Jerry Wellnitz at the Sheridan County Historical Society. He heard the elevator building was condemned.

“The foundation is getting bad on it,” Wellnitz said.

After the admiring description of the foundation in Part I, which noted the slab was a foot-and-a-half thick with 97 cubic yards of concrete, it’s hard to believe there’s been degradation. Yet it’s pretty sure the elevator faces its 80th birthday in a state of limbo.