Category Archives: The Politics

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

by baggyparagraphs

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.

California dairy exodus will change crops, affecting southern Great Plains elevators

by baggyparagraphs

Elkhart, Kan.

Story and photos by Brad Perry

When you see southwest Kansas down to Amarillo, Tex. from the air (or Google Maps), a distance of 150 miles, you see thousands of center-pivot circles. The pivots were installed to grow corn for the beef-cattle industry, the huge feed yards that are located in this part of the U.S. It’s not unusual to see 100,000-head-capacity yards in this region. It became a “cattle magnet” with the construction of the IBP kill facility at Amarillo in the early 1970s. 

Why here?  Because of few people, water from the Ogallala aquifer, cheap natural gas to power the wells, and a plentiful supply of feeder cattle from Texas, Kansas, Oklahoma and New Mexico ranchers.

This heavily irrigated part of the Great Plains, and the crops that are now grown there, will be changing as drastically as any agricultural region in the U.S. 

Why? “The cows are coming!” It’s is one of the two major areas to where California dairy cows are being relocated.  

Why? Water issues and concerns about methane emissions in California.

In anticipation of all these dairy cows, new cheese plants have been built in Dalhart and Lubbock, Tex. and in Dodge City, Kan. 

The other area where California cows are moving is the Columbia Valley of the Pacific Northwest. And to point out what most folks don’t realize—California, not Wisconsin or Minnesota, has been the number-one dairy state for more than 30 years.

Tillotson elevator at Rolla, Kan., 1948
Rolla in more recent times

Here’s the change: When the cows move in, farmers tend to switch to growing forages rather than corn. It means alfalfa, grass mixtures, and specific corn varieties for silage rather than grain. They’re important for proper nutrition for dairy cows, high in protein (especially alfalfa) and the roughage is great for a ruminant. An acre of forage crop can produce about twice the biomass as compared to corn. On top of that, forage production uses significantly less water than irrigated corn. And on top of this, forages can’t be shipped in by train. An AI overview explains: 

Forage crops like hay and silage are rarely shipped by train because they are bulky, have a low financial value per pound, and spoil or catch fire easily if handled or stored incorrectly over long distances. Trucks offer a faster, door-to-door option for regional deliveries where rail lines do not go.

Tillotson’s elevator at Ensign, Kan.

Corn, and lots of it, will be imported into this market, as it has been to California. The beef cattle are still there and corn will supplement the dairies’ rations.  That’s why there has been a big push to build train-unloaders. JDH (formerly J.D. Heiskel & Co.), 5V, a joint venture between Five Rivers Cattle Feeding and Viserion Grain, and Viterra, which on July 2 merged with Bunge, are building shuttle unloaders in this market. The Andersons, of Maumee, Ohio, purchased ADM’s interest in Skyland Grain for the same reason.

We’ll see rather quickly the change in cropping patterns. I suspect these changes will move all the way to Dodge City, Kan. and beyond. 

And, yes, it will dramatically impact the grain elevators in this market.

Omaha council OKs one step in proposed adaptive re-use of Vinton Street terminal

by baggyparagraphs

By Ronald Ahrens

Fifteen years of blogging has exposed us to various concepts for the re-use of old grain elevators. Proposals have ranged from interesting to daft.

Consider these examples:

  • The sleek Mayer-Osborn elevator in Tempe, Ariz. was going to be made into a hotel, which struck me as daft.
  • Two guys from Missouri had cast their eyes from big terminals in Buffalo, N.Y., to San Francisco’s threatened Pier 92, with a mind to developing vertical farms inside the tanks. It seems more practical to adapt other types of buildings for vertical farming.
  • In 2012, the Vinton Street terminal complex in Omaha received national attention after the annexes served as the canvas for a public art project; a nonprofit organization commissioned artists to create themed banners that were draped over the silos. Then someone proposed turning the complex into a climbing facility. The art was intriguing, but the climbing facility was daft.

Mayer-Osborn’s 1951 Tempe elevator

A few weeks ago, after we announced receipt of an archive of family papers and photos, Patrick Mason, director of business development for Dicon Construction, contacted us.

“Any chance they gave you anything related to the Vinton Silos? I am the owner. We are building apartments on the site but preserving some of the bins.”

We haven’t gotten to the blueprints yet, but there are among them records for the Vinton Street complex.

The Vinton Street complex, which was a signature project for Tillotson Construction Co., has been problematic for years. The Reader, which bills itself as “A Service of Nebraska Public Media,” reported “The old grain elevator and silos have sat empty for decades, attracting urban explorers, adventurous teens and an array of graffiti artists. In 2017, a man in his 50s fell about 30 feet, lying hurt with a broken leg until he was discovered at sunrise. In 2024, a teenage girl was seriously injured after falling 20 feet, and another teen was rescued after getting stuck.”

Latest news on the Dicon Construction’s adaptive re-use project is to knock down most of the elevator and annex, saw off a few tanks above ground level, and spent $56.2 million to build an apartment complex. A rendering shows a small building and the pool and patio resting atop the stubs of about 10 sawed-off tanks.

The Omaha City Council was considering Dicon’s application for $10.4 million in tax-increment financing.

The proposed project ranks somewhere between the high point so far, which is the public art project, and the low, which is the idea for a climbing facility. My wife lived two blocks from the elevator and points out the limited circulation of traffic in the neighborhood, which ends up pressing against Interstate 80.

Would hundreds of new residents improve or degrade the neighborhood?

All governmental units are perpetually hungry for added revenue. If the Omaha city council really wants to go ahead with Dicon’s unusual development, the members should have a midafternoon snack to tame their hunger and then think hard about the questions of public safety and the impact of a high-density development at this clogged-up location.

I don’t have an opinion on the appropriateness of the project, although it seems quirky. Nor am I one who thinks every grain elevator should be restored and made into a shrine, as we’re seeing in Broken Arrow, Okla.

One thing to say, though, is that I continue to marvel at the way a derelict grain elevator fires the imagination.

A cupola’s label reads ‘Gano’ and leads to hidden history from Pritchett, Colo.

by baggyparagraphs

By Ronald Ahrens

In haste to get out of southeastern Colorado and into southwestern Kansas, I snapped an extra picture of an elevator’s cupola labeled “Gano.” I did this even though it wasn’t a Tillotson elevator. Almost as an afterthought, I also grabbed two shots of downtown Pritchett, Colo., where three abandoned elevators stand including a Mayer-Osborn elevator.

It seemed I must be leaving a lot behind as we raced eastward.

What does Gano refer to? What happened to Pritchett? Why were the elevators abandoned?

George E. Gano was a grain dealer from Hutchinson, Kan. In a 1930 telegraph to U.S. President Herbert Hoover, he explains his situation as the government was competing against him and others like him:

“The Farmers National Corporation issued orders to buy wheat at stabilized price only from co-operative elevators. Personally have 50 good country elevators in southwest Kansas. Buy wheat direct from the farmers and have for 30 years. This order closes every elevator I have as stabilization price 12 to 15 cents above the open market in which I am forced to sell my grain. If this order stands this is simply confiscation of a business built up in a lifetime. You are appropriating money to this organization from which I contribute a good share in taxes. Not more than half of the farmers in this territory belong to co-operatives. This is the most vicious order ever issued by an agent of the United States government and should be rescinded at once. Am only too glad to assist in stabilizing the wheat price. Have no axe to grind with the Farmers corporation. All I ask is fair play and an even break. This not only applies to me but to every independent grain dealer in this section. Wish you would confer with Mr. Legge [Farm Board Chairman Alexander Legge] and explain matters.”

The George E. Gano Grain Co. was formed in 1924 out of another organization in Hutchinson, Kan. Gano was able to build this Pritchett elevator or reinforced concrete at a later date.

Bunge Co. bought out Gano in 1947.

Time magazine had observed in 1929 that “private grain commission men in Chicago and Minneapolis were fighting for their economic lives against the Farmers’ National Grain Corp. created and largely financed by the Federal Farm Board as a direct cooperative sales agency for grain growers.”

One assumes Gano was part of the fight.

As for Pritchett, we found this profile among the Denver Public Library’s digital collections:

 “Occupied town, Pritchett is fading away. The railroad that once brought prosperity to Pritchett has been torn up miles east of the town. The town is a victim of drought and changing economic conditions. Pritchett is located in what was once the broomcorn belt, but plastic has replaced this natural material in brooms. Farmers have turned to growing wheat, milo and sorghum. Livestock covers the rangeland. The Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe formed a subsidiary, the Dodge City & Cimarron Valley Railway Company, which built a rail line from Kansas to Pritchett in 1926 that opened the following year. Originally, the rails were to reach three miles farther to Joycoy, and based on the prospects of rail service, Joycoy was founded. Merchants who had set up shop were given inducements by the railroad in the form of choice lots to move to Pritchett. The move from Joycoy to Pritchett included the post office, and nothing remains at Joycoy. Pritchett was named for Dr. Henry S. Pritchett, one of the Santa Fe’s directors. The new town grew rapidly with plenty of open farmland. Soon there were a couple of lumberyards, state bank, hardware stores and three grocery stores. With the construction of three hotels and the addition of a drug store, service stations, a bakery and clothing stores, the town was complete. A trio of grain elevators was constructed by the tracks on the south side of the business district. Pritchett even had its own radio station. With the Great Depression of the 1930s was combined with a sustained drought to create the Dust Bowl jobs disappeared along with the town’s only bank. The government sponsored Works Progress Administration brought in hundreds of jobs for those willing to work on roads, bridges and construction projects. This helped relieve Pritchett’s depression. Pritchett is located on U.S. 160 south of County Road DD and north of County Road CC.”

In 2017, a Facebook post by Jordan Palmer explained more eloquently:

Down near the southeast corner of Colorado sits the small town of Pritchett. A spur of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe [Railway] once ran here off the mainline that runs through nearby Springfield. Abandoned long ago, the tracks are gone, but weathered ties and broken crossbuck signs remain along the old grade. The most noticeable pieces, though, are the three grain elevators, standing abandoned on the south edge of town. They tower lonely over the high plains waiting for grains and trains, both of which will never come.

Osiris mill in Garfield County, Utah hides century-old secrets in a canyon

by baggyparagraphs

By Ronald Ahrens

John’s Valley Road, the narrow paved byway from Bryce Canyon City, Utah to the tiny hamlet of Antinomy, follows the east fork of the Sevier River through remote country that hardly promised an elevator discovery, yet we found a mill house and grain storage tanks in an obscure place called Black Canyon.

The wooden structure that adjoined stubby concrete tanks appeared after we passed a series of irrigated alfalfa fields on the plateau. Four tanks rose about twenty-five feet from the canyon floor. They were creased at regular intervals and seemed to indicate a type of construction other than the familiar slip-forming of our prairie and Great Plains elevators. The outer surfaces of the tanks were pleated, so to speak, and I had the impression they were made of precast concrete and joined together by mortar. The place was fenced, though, so it wasn’t possible to get up close. My guess is that, because the tanks aren’t so tall, a lower load-bearing rating meant this manner of construction produced a result sufficient in strength. Additionally, it’s hard to imagine a continuous-pour operation in such an out-of-the-way place.

In the central space between them, the four tanks supported a generously proportioned superstructure, which I’d otherwise call a run, and a ramshackle cupola.

I stepped out of the car for pictures but found it unnerving to have the absolute stillness broken by intermittent blasts from a medium-bore rifle. It seemed a safe bet the target wasn’t a grain-elevator blogger, though. Anyway, it’s illegal to shoot across a road, isn’t it? So I went ahead with the photos. It was around five o’clock, and the ruins were harshly backlit.

Returning afterwards to the car, I drove away hoping to find details about this attractive hybrid building, part grain-storage facility and part mill.

In no more than ten miles, my wife and I came to the tiny Garfield County hamlet of Antimony, pronounced AN-ti-MO-NEE, which takes its name from a “metalloid element” that’s useful as an alloy and in the making of semiconductors.

The name Antimony definitely doesn’t suggest a grain trading capital. The town is said to be so remote that it was the last in Utah to get electricity.

Nothing was moving except for a sturdy-looking man doing landscaping chores at Antimony Community Center.

“Oh, that’s Red Mill,” he said when I described the subject of my investigation. There used to be dryland wheat farming where the alfalfa is now, he said. The wheat growers gave it up after the Drought of … he couldn’t remember but reckoned the flour mill was last used sixty years ago.

Red Mill, more properly called Osiris Mill and Creamery, was built by William F. Holt, a major figure in western development projects. When he died in 1951, The New York Times declared, “WILLIAM HOLT, 87, BUILDER OF TOWNS; Developer of Resources of the Imperial Valley Dies–Work Formed Basis of Novel.” Or as the Garfield County News summarized: California’s Imperial Valley benefited from Holt’s touch.

Holt first came to Garfield County from his home in Hollywood, California in 1923. The County News lauded him:

“He was the real father of the Imperial Valley, starting work there in about 1900, at a time when there was neither water nor people in that entire country, its only inhabitants being horned toads and Gila monsters, and the turkey buzzards and crows all carried canteens.”

The News reported Holt’s initial development had started at Widstoe, namely, a power plant, a creamery, and Holt “expected to have a flour mill running in the near future.” He was president of Garfield Land Company, which operated out of a Los Angeles P.O. box. In 1926, Holt received permission from the Utah State Engineer’s Office to divert water from the east fork of the Sevier and fill a 3,000-acre-foot impoundment. The water would be used to irrigate 1,600 surface acres. Holt liked to go on about how California was becoming overcrowded and needed to import food — “everything that is suitable to be raised in this part of the country,” according to the News. He pushed for a new road between Widstoe, where his own fields were, and Escalante so that farm produce could more easily reach the Union Pacific line at Cedar City, arriving the next night in L.A.

Osiris Mill served as a granary and creamery at the now-defunct town of Osiris, named for the Egyptian deity who lorded over the underworld while also representing fertility and agriculture. Ruins on the other side of John’s Canyon road indicate the remains of Osiris. Widstoe is also characterized today as a ghost town; it was up on the plateau where I saw the irrigated fields. Widstoe and Osiris were separate by fifteen miles, and it seems safe to assume the flour mill and creamery referred to in the newspaper were the same relic we visited despite not being located at Widstoe.

Henry Bell Wright, the first American novelist to make $1 million, modeled a character on Holt in The Winning of Barbara Worth. Wright’s novel became a silent movie starring Ronald Colman, Vilma Bánky, and Gary Cooper. This Western flickered before the public in 1926, the same year the Utah Engineer’s Office awarded irrigation rights.

While time itself seems to stand still in this part of Garfield County, a full century has elapsed since the movie’s release.

The Osiris Mill and Creamery was well-crafted, which makes today’s overgrown site especially regrettable.

Despite the gunfire, our discovery of Osiris seemed heaven-sent. Even though it’s not one of Our Grandfathers’ Grain Elevators, we’re pleased to shine the spotlight once again on this remote wonderment.

‘Huge strides’ prompt extreme reactions in Lincoln elevator demo project

by baggyparagraphs

A representative of CL Construction, of Lincoln, sends this aerial photo and reports “huge strides in the demolition of the grain elevators at 3001 Cornhusker Hwy. in Lincoln.” News of the project first broke late in 2024. The demolition site will be offered for redevelopment.

Lincoln’s 10/11 News visited early in 2026 for an update. Comments on the channel’s report range from sublime to ridiculous. These are unedited for style or factual correctness.

Sublime: @dougnagel1155 “What weird comments. It’s just time to move on. When I was a kid hauling grain to this elevator, it was on the outskirts of town. Now it’s pretty much in the middle of town. Farmers are not bringing the crops to Lincoln like they used to. There’s other elevators north of town that are easier to haul to and avoid city traffic. I’m sure the Lincoln site isn’t profitable anymore.”

Ridiculous: @VictorianMaid99 “No grain means no food and no food means no people. Planned demolition just like 911.”

Sublime: @danlowe8684 “Those silos were not in ‘disrepair’. They were some of the beefiest structures ever built – and would have been standing for many more generations. They have been working to demolish them for over a year with modern machinery – and are far from done. The silo builders invented slip-form concrete construction in the early 1900s (Buffalo, NY, I believe), and it is used today for bridge and highway construction.”

Ridiculous: @e030396  “Another example of this generations’ toxic mentality (tear-down-functional-structures with out good reason). Looks like a stupid move not considering the increase carbon foot print.”

Sublime: @paulkurilecz4209 “More than likely the conveyor systems were in disrepair. They were not refurbished due to a lack of business.”

Meanwhile, CL Construction has been active elsewhere.

“In between all of this, our team has been down in Sunray, Tex. to dismantle another grain elevator facility,” the spokesman reports.

We know Tillotson built in Sunray and suspect that’s the facility in question.

Note: The white elevator at upper right is a Tillotson elevator from the mid-1950s.

Van Ness completes a 30,000-bushel elevator in Cedar Bluffs, Nebr. and the party is on

by baggyparagraphs

A lovely Monday in early May of 1934 proved perfect for festivities that attended dedication of the new Farmers Union elevator in Cedar Bluffs, Nebr. 

After deciding in January to tear down its 48-year-old elevator and rebuild, the Farmers Union Co-Operative Association awarded the job to Van Ness Construction Co., of Omaha. A new 30,000-bushel elevator soon rose on the same site as the demolished elevator in Cedar Bluffs, a progressive Saunders County village. Photos by Reginald Tillotson, who worked for Van Ness along with his father Charles H. Tillotson, show the job starting in early spring before the trees budded out.

A news report explains how the dedication attracted an “immense” crowd and sparked a festival-like atmosphere on that pleasant occasion. Events started at 12.00 noon with free ice cream, cake, and coffee for more than 600 registrants. 

“There was plenty to eat for everybody,” the New Cedar Bluffs Standard reported. 

After dinner, races and contests were held for boys and girls, providing entertainment for the crowd and fun for the youngsters. Cash prizes were given out. The Midland College band traveled from nearby Fremont to play for everybody.

Mayor J. P. Jessen took the platform, welcomed folks, and introduced lots of dignitaries. H.D. Black received special recognition as manager of the elevator, and Alex McAuley—a 17-year veteran of the company—was assistant manager. 

Next came the parade. A line of automobiles carried the officers and directors of the elevator association. A former employee of Farmers Union weighed in with the ceremonial first load of wheat to be received and stored away in the new house.

The entertainment continued as a quartet took the stage and sang old favorites. Following their numbers, a solo vocalist performed with piano accompaniment.

Other cash prizes were awarded, this time to L.A. Freeman, the association stockholder who had the largest family present. The jackpot for longest distance traveled went to Jim Broz, who made the journey from Prague, a town 16.5 miles away by road. 

Speechifying was courtesy of Newton Gaines, of the University of Nebraska Extension service, who “as usual did a mighty fine job of it. He is an interesting and entertaining speaker.” Gaines himself was Midland College graduate devoted to the gospel of better farming and spread it with humor and philosophy in thousands of speeches.

The Cedar Bluffs day of parties ended with a free, well-attended dance at the opera house, and the next day was back to normal with the new elevator in service. The dedication day was long-remembered by the people. Even now we take away the message of an elevator’s importance within its community. Sometimes in daily life, the people came and went without even noticing it, but in fact it was the thing that held the community together.

Newly discovered photos emerge of a 1950 blowout at a Tillotson ‘clone’ elevator in Bird City, Kansas

by baggyparagraphs

For a 2013 post, we visited the elevator at Bird City, Kan. to learn more about its provenance. Bird City (pop. 447) is in Cheyenne County, in the northwestern corner of Kansas. The county population is about 2,500.

“It has been demonstrated that the curved headhouse was a Tillotson signature,” we wrote after the site visit. “Did someone leave the Tillotson operation and branch out on his own, or were the plans sold to Vickroy-Mong?”

Later, we followed up with the story of a blowout that occurred there in 1950, not too long after the elevator was built by Vickroy-Mong Construction Co., of Salina, Kan.

Thanks to reader Steve Wilson, who grew up in St. Francis some 15 miles from Bird City, we have new views of the aftermath of that blowout, and these give a clue as to why the name Vickroy-Mong has otherwise disappeared from history.

The elevator was announced in January of 1950. The Omaha World-Herald reported as follows:

The Bird City Equity has voted to build a 250-thousand bushel storage elevator this spring. The government will assist in the finance to the extent of 80 per cent of the cost. It will also guarantee storage income for a three-year period. A drive to raise 50 thousand dollars in capital will be staged. Total cost of the elevator is estimated to be around 160 thousand dollars.

Photos courtesy of Steve Wilson

Soon after the tanks were loaded with grain, the blowout occurred. On Aug. 24, 1950, The Herndon (Kan.) Nonpareil reported: 

Approximately 15,000 bushels of the 1950 Cheyenne County wheat crop spilled out on the ground about 6 a.m. Friday when a 30′ by 8′ section of the newly constructed Bird City Equity elevator caved in. The section of wall giving way was over the loading bins on the railroad. A train was in Bird City at the time and was sent to St Francis to be turned after wheat augers brought in from the surrounding countryside had cleared a path through the grain on the tracks. More than six boxcars of wheat were loaded with the augers after the engine returned, but between 6,000 and 7,000 bushels of wheat still remained on the ground the next day, A.A. Gillispie veteran St. Francis newspaperman reported. The elevator which has a capacity of 250,000 bushels was finished shortly before harvest this year.

Photos by Gary Rich

Chalmers & Borton received the contract for the repair work. In 1958, they also won the contract for an addition of 241,000 bushels.

W. Stephen “Steve” Wilson retired as professor of mathematics at Johns Hopkins University and lives in Baltimore. His father, Charles Wm. Wilson, M.D., served the people of Cheyenne County “doing everything from glasses to babies to surgery.” And Dr. Wilson was a photography buff. Steve Wilson provides this addendum regarding the blowout:

I was only 4, or almost 4, but it was a big deal. Lots of grain elevators in that part of the country, and they don’t usually fall apart. Worth the drive to see it!

In 2009, I took my kid out to see where I was from (the year before he graduated from high school). We went out to one of the elevators in St. Francis, the county seat. This was an elevator [where] they would take us kids up to the top, and we would throw model airplanes with cherry bombs in them.

However, when my son and I started walking towards the elevator, someone ran out of the office and told us we couldn’t get close to the elevator. Homeland security rules. What a waste of resources! If a terrorist wants to blow up a grain elevator in a town of 1,500 where you still have to drive 175 miles to get to a town of 25,000, that’s not a bright idea. Spending money to prevent it is even stupider.

In 1939 letter, Joe Tillotson asks about wheat allotment, reports on new concrete elevator

by baggyparagraphs

July 22, 1939

Dict. July 21

Mr. Warren Tillotson

Shields, Kansas

Dear Uncle Warren:

We have thought several times about writing to you to ask if there would be any possibility that we could get an allotment for not raising wheat on that land of Dad’s down there in Kansas.

Now of course it doesn’t seem right to us that the government should pay for this land being idle when there is really no intention of farming it, but we keep hearing of similar cases like this and even understand that where the local agent knows the owner of the land they are solicited and offered an allotment for this unused land.

We feel that you are probably familiar with this subject and if you have a few moments to spare, might drop us a line and let us know what you think about it.

We thought we would get out to see you and John sometime this summer but haven’t had a call anywhere near you so far. Most of our work this year has been down in Oklahoma, Kansas in the eastern part, Missouri in the western part, and eastern Iowa. We are enclosing a local newspaper from Goltry, Oklahoma which shows a job that we just finished. This is our first attempt at concrete construction and out of five similar jobs built in this same neighborhood our concrete by test shows to be the strongest, the machinery the best and fastest, and the insurance rate on this job is lower than any of the others; and as long as we didn’t lose any money on our first attempt at this line of work we feel that we would like to have more of this reinforced concrete construction work.

Don’t believe we answered John’s letter of April 5, as it came in right when we were the very busiest, but we still have hopes of getting out there to see both of you before the year is over.

We hope your wheat crop was good and that you may be coming up this way sometime soon and will stop and see us.

Respectfully,

Your nephew,

Joe

Peering into ancient grain storage practices from Tell Edfu to Ribchester

by kocart

By Kristen Cart

As long as agriculture has existed, food storage has been essential to human survival. Grains could be stored without substantial spoilage more easily than other foods, so societies engineered grain storage very early, which enabled people to congregate in cities. In the book of Genesis in the Bible, the story of Joseph relates how he helped Egypt store grain against periods of famine. It was a successful strategy.

Genesis 41:48-49:

48 During those seven years, Joseph collected all the excess food in the land of Egypt and stored it in the cities. In every city he laid up the food from the fields around it. 49 So Joseph stored up grain in such abundance, like the sand of the sea, that he stopped keeping track of it; for it was beyond measure.

The practice of grain storage that was credited to Joseph in the Bible was indeed part of the long-standing economic system in Egypt.

Surviving ancient Egyptian city sites, while fairly rare, have drawn renewed interest as archaeologists explore how urban societies developed. A prominent feature of Tell Edfu, an Egyptian city studied by the University of Chicago, is a courtyard containing seven circular mud-brick silos, built together to store surplus grain. Each silo measures 5.5-6.5 meters across. The 3500 year-old site was built beside an administrative center, a feature that points to a period of prosperity measured in grain, which was the currency of the time.

Archaeologists find silos and administration center from early Egyptian city

Another example of early grain storage was discovered in Lancashire, England, in Ribchester. This location was an early Roman outpost where a garrison was stationed. Stored grain was needed to provide for the soldiers and their livestock. When the Roman soldiers abandoned the fort, evidence shows that the remaining stores were burned and the storage site destroyed.

Ribchester Roman Granaries

Every grain operation has to contend with temperature, humidity, and spoilage when storing grain. The Romans found ingenious solutions to the same problems we encounter. Their granaries had thick walls with column-supported floors, leaving void areas underneath, and drainage gutters to keep rain diverted away. These measures kept the grain cool and dry. Building the granaries above ground level also helped keep rats and mice out.

All that remains at the Ribchester site are the thick wall bases, outlining the footprint of two rectangular bins, and the support columns that held the old flagstone floors above the ground. Signs of burned grain and broken flagstones tell the story of the abandonment of the outpost.

I was curious whether ancient Greece used similar storage. Accounts I read pointed out that they used amphorae, or large pottery jars, to transport commodities including grain. They imported their grain supply across the Mediterranean Sea using these vessels, while prohibiting grain exports, to ensure their food security. Amphorae were convenient because they could be stored, but they were also portable. They were an ideal solution for foodstuffs moving through a major trading center. I wonder if consumption kept up with supply to the point that large-scale permanent storage was not needed. It is a good topic for further exploration.

Grain is such an ordinary part of life for us that it goes mostly ignored, though the history of grain is compelling. I am forever curious. Perhaps more of this remarkable history will be uncovered. I will share whatever I find.