Category Archives: Their Work

Archival photo leads to guesses on the location of a mighty wooden elevator complex

by baggyparagraphs

The cache of archival photos recovered from the Tillotson homestead includes an image of a wooden elevator complex, but there are no inscriptions on back of the photo so we have no clue of the location or date.

Close inspection of the image reveals the smaller of the two elevator buildings is labeled. It appears that “Farmers Co-Op” was painted over other lettering, possibly “Grain & Coal.”

The larger building–how about that headhouse!–is labeled Farmers Co-Op Co.

We sure wish we could identify the woman standing on the office porch. She is buttoned up tight inside her overcoat and giving a nice smile.

The car looks like a mid-1930s Pontiac.

There are other markings. We see the numerals 2 and 8 at the extreme left but can’t explain them. Three signs hang on the outer walls of the office. The one the car is facing advertises Semi Solid Buttermilk, a brand of partially dehydrated buttermilk that was used as a livestock and poultry feed supplement.

Brand advertising claimed: “When Sows are fed Semi-Solid they have little or no trouble from ‘dreaded white scours’ among the pigs.”

Ad from The Nebraska Farmer, Feb. 2, 1929

Signs to either side of the woman are illegible, but the shingle under the gable is inscribed Fairbanks Scales.

All the signs would lend the elevator a stamp of authentication: a patron of this establishment could be assured of getting the most advanced and most accurate services.

In general, the whole complex projects a mighty aura, and it’s easy to suspect this was one of the leading operations in its region.

A Tillotson warehouse, 1,000 bells, and a cat round out the legacy of Peet’s Feeds

by baggyparagraphs

This much is known: Tillotson Construction Co. performed a job for E.M. Peet Manufacturing Co. in Council Bluffs, Iowa. It’s with apparent disinterest, or at best indifference, that the backs of two photos are marked “Warehouse.” No record of the job itself can be located, so we have to guess the date and what exactly was built. A 5,000-square-foot addition was done in 1958 to increase sacking and storage capacity as Peet’s joined the trend of adding bulk-storage bins, six in all. But that small job went to Ranch Construction Co., with Grain Storage and Construction Co. getting the machinery contract. 

The photos suggest Tillotson Construction did a bigger project. We estimate the width of the two-story building at 80 feet. Could 15,000 square feet be too high for the total volume? 

We’re trying to identify the two trucks and their model years, which could be pre-World War Two.

The next best clue for the date of Tillotson’s job is a Peet’s newspaper ad. 

E.M. Peet Manufacturing Co. was founded in 1917 by Ernest M. Peet and W.A. Ruehlman. It was Peet who ran the company as president, making livestock and poultry feeds. Besides their home location at 33 S. 25th St., Peet’s had branches in several states. They also had test farms. 

Pete was a Christian Scientist and belonged to fraternal lodges in the Bluffs. He and his wife Ethel lived at 163 Glen Avenue. Their daughter was Mrs. Dorothy Bammann. Ethel proved to be a ding-a-ling. She belonged to the American Bell Association and collected more than 1,000 bells. She used to drag out her suitcase and pack her dress, the one with bells sewn on it, and go to the ABA’s annual conventions in different cities.

“Everybody comes dressed with bell accessories in some manner,” she told the Daily Nonpareil’s “What’s Your Hobby?” column.  

Ernie Peet was 63 years old when he died Dec. 10, 1944—a shock to the community. More than 500 people including 75 of his salesmen attended the funeral, and there were truckloads of flowers. The Daily Nonpareil lamented: 

The death of E.M. Peet has left Council Bluffs without one of its best established and well-known business leaders. His loss will be felt for a long time.” 

The revealing newspaper ad we referred to ran on February 11, 1945.

Until Reginald Tillotson speaks from his own grave, we have no way of pinning down whether the warehouse was done in Peet’s lifetime, but it’s interesting that the archival photo (top of post) matches the photo of Peet’s operation in the ad. All this indicates an early job for Tillotson Construction, one they finished well before Ernie Peet’s death.

Peet’s was big enough that its sales staff would congregate for special presentations on the latest advances. In 1951, for example, a group of 75 convened for three days at the Hotel Chieftain and, among other things, heard a University of Minnesota professor report new measures in animal nutrition such as adding Vitamin B-12, select minerals, and even antibiotics to the feed.

All that was for bovine and porcine types. But an amusing anecdote expands the Peet’s legacy in a feline way. 

In 1955, the warehouse cat, Lily, received publicity from a Daily Nonpareil story, which led to her selection as winner of the national Puss’n Boots Bronze Award. (Puss’n Boots was a brand of pet food.) The citation purred: 

Amusing mascot, loyal friend, doting mother—that’s Lily. Born in a manufacturing plant (now raising her family there), this affectionate feline endeared herself to fellow workers by her fondness for riding on the company tractor. No day is complete for her friends until Lily comes riding by. To loyal, adaptable Lily, a tractor-riding tabby, this tribute. 

Away from the office, Reginald and Mary Tillotson rode horseback amid the piñons

by baggyparagraphs

Laying off from work in their Omaha office, Reginald Tillotson and his sister Mary Tillotson knew how to play, too. Here we see them on horseback, going down a cliffside with three others who cannot be identified. Reginald wore the white hat and ample chaps, Mary flourished the white tie. It was an adventure that Reginald’s wife Margaret would never have attempted. The Tillotsons owned a New Mexico ranch, so we guess this trail’s location is nearby. We’re also guessing the ponies knew just where to stop for the photo, and that’s not only because of the way they’re lined up. Note the marker that’s jabbing into the center of the picture. Lettering stenciled on the arm says “HANDS OFF.” We welcome guesses about it.

In 1958 letter, Reginald Tillotson seeks son Mike’s pencil prowess on new project

by baggyparagraphs

In December of 1958, Reginald Tillotson, president of Tillotson Construction Co., was working on a project in Kansas City, Mo. and was apparently a guest in the office of another company when he invited his youngest son, Michael, to make the 185-mile journey from Omaha and join the team.

Besides the purpose he expressed, it’s interesting to note the intentional jokey misspellings in a midcentury-comix style of writing, namely, “wouldend” for “wouldn’t” and “ketch” for “catch.”

Dear Mike;

I am working here in Beggs office and sure didn’t intend to ask you to do anything I wouldend do in wanting you to come here and help Tom out on these drawings. He really needs the help and any time you want to pack your bag and ketch the train down and go to work here it is OK with me.

I would appreciate it as it will free me to do the things I need to do and I know Tom would rather have you than me as I don’t know a 1-H from a 4-H pencil, etc. He saw what you did here on that sketch for Carrier, Okla. and was satisfied. His son is teaching here at the Finlay Engineering school here and you might want to look into the situation. Tom is the best elevator engineer I have met and has Wayne Skinner beat a thousand miles. You wouldn’t get better schooling.

Your Dad

P.S. You can come home week ends.

The “Beggs office” that Reginald refers to was probably Beggs Engineering, and more is to be learned about that concern and its relationship to Tillotson Construction Co. For now, though, the major takeaway is Reginald’s genial paternal tone and his droll way of praising and encouraging his son.

About five months before this letter, Mike was a passenger in a bad car accident with my father driving, my mother and I in the backseat, all of us flying out of a tiny little convertible, a Nash Metropolitan, in the night on a country road.

According to my mother Mary Catherine, who was Mike’s older sister, he suffered a fractured shoulder and, in consequence, lost his wrestling scholarship at University of Nebraska. From fragmented sources, we piece together the rest of his story. In 1959 and 1960, Mike served in the army. He then returned to Lincoln and attained a bachelor’s degree in education. No career as a schoolteacher or coach followed. Nor a career at Tillotson Construction Co.–it went out of business after Reginald’s death in 1960.

Mike had learned his carpentry skills building formwork for elevators, and it led to his long career as a carpenter.

Incorporation notices provide a timeline and sketch the drama of Van Ness Construction Co.

by kocart

Story by Kristen Cart

We know a little bit about the R. M. Van Ness Construction Co. from newspaper articles prior to its incorporation. When the business began, Van Ness built elevators from its headquarters in Fairbury, Nebr. before moving to Omaha in 1916. They situated their Omaha headquarters on the ground floor of the Grain Exchange building.

The company structure was formalized in 1923, when the R. M. Van Ness Construction Co. incorporated as a grain elevator construction business. Officers were therein named, shareholding partners designated, and the valuation of shares determined.

We find these partners and board members appearing in subsequent articles about their business dealings, as we will illuminate in upcoming posts.

The company published an amendment to the articles of incorporation after the 1927 death of the founder, R. M. Van Ness, who fell victim to a brain hemorrhage at age 50.

Mary A. Van Ness assumed leadership and guided her construction business during some of its most productive years.

She held the reins during the tumultuous personal events of 1928, as well, when daughter Mary Van Ness Stribling and her husband Harold Stribling survived a home invasion and attack by an “ax-maniac” who had terrorized the Omaha-Council Bluffs area. A suspect named Jake Bird was tried and convicted of assault early the following year in Council Bluffs district court.

The local papers played up the story, culminating in the Omaha World-Herald’s Feb. 3, 1929 report of the guilty verdict.

“Well, it’s a tough break,” Bird said after the verdict was announced.

“Oh, I’m glad,” Mary Van Ness said before embracing her daughter.

“It’s the only way it could be,” Mary Van Ness Stribling said. “No other verdict would be honest or just. I never was in doubt about Bird being the man. Any other verdict would have affected me terribly, because it would have reflected on my honesty, and would make it appear that I had done an injustice. I have been through a terrible ordeal. It’s bad enough as it is.”

By 1931, according to newspaper accounts, Mary A. Van Ness had had enough, and we find this short newspaper item:

Charles H. Tillotson and John Conrey had taken the helm, and the company continued an extremely active period of grain elevator construction until Charles Tillotson’s death in 1938. It appears that Charles H. Tillotson, and later his son Reginald, were involved with this company throughout its existence.

The value of the stock was down from $25,000 to $5,000 during the height of the Great Depression.

We will explore the several phases of the company’s evolution in future posts.

The men and projects of Van Ness Construction Co. appeared in social notes of local newspapers

by kocart

Story by Kristen Cart

While searching old newspaper articles for early Van Ness Construction Co. work projects, I happened upon an interesting way to track them. Society pages in newspapers routinely mentioned visitors to a town and the movements of important citizens. The purposes of the visits were usually noted. In these pages, I found a treasure trove of elevator information in various Nebraska newspapers. A few examples follow, giving clues to the tempo of Van Ness Construction’s operations.

Anton Proskovec, of Lushton, Nebr., was a foreman for the Van Ness Construction Company of Omaha, and he worked on several jobs in 1934. The People’s Banner of David City, Nebr., among other papers, carefully cataloged his comings and goings that year.

Anton Proskovec of Lushton visited home folks, the J. B. Proskovec family on Sunday. He has been made a foreman of the Van Ness Construction Co., of Omaha. They are tearing down an elevator in Lushton.

The paper also cataloged Anton’s visits to Roscoe, Nebr., where the Van Ness company was installing a dust eliminator; Shelby, Nebr., where they built a new elevator; and Linwood, Nebr., where they tore one down. Five newspaper items from The People’s Banner detailed his movements in 1934. Further investigation revealed that his father, James B. Proskovec, owned property, conducted business, and was involved in local politics in Butler County, Nebr.

In two similar newspaper notices, we discovered that Virgil Johnson, the family patriarch of the elevator construction company Johnson & Sampson Construction Co., got his start as an employee of Van Ness Construction.

First, the Beatrice Daily Sun of Feb 20, 1934, mentioned that Virgil Johnson and Rupert Hammonds were boarding with Mrs. C. R. Rossel while ironing the Farmers’ Union elevator for Van Ness. But where was the job site?

Then, in the Beatrice Daily Sun of March 22, 1934, we found this gem:

Messrs. Rupert Hammons (sic) and Virgil Johnson of the Van Ness Construction company of Omaha finished ironing the Farmers’ Union elevator early last week and left Rockford.

Rockford is a tiny Gage County hamlet nine miles from Beatrice on U.S. Route 136.

Immediately preceding that note, we find:

Joe Tillotson of Omaha was a supper guest at the A. L. Burroughs home Tuesday night the 13th.

Joe, one of the sons of Charles H. Tillotson and brother to Reginald, could have been in town either working in the elevator trade or simply visiting the family. It is hard to guess. Joe, much later, founded the J. H. Tillotson Construction Co. of Denver, Colo. with William Osborn as superintendent.

The Colfax County Caller recorded the movements of Reginald Tilloston and his wife Margaret on Oct. 18, 1934, noting:

Mr. and Mrs. R. O. Tillatson (sic) of Omaha have taken light housekeeping rooms at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Joe Divis. Mr. Tillatson (sic), who is employed by the Van Ness Construction Co., is helping wreck the Dawson elevator in Linwood.

An interesting connection was revealed when the Colfax County Caller of Nov. 22, 1934, mentioned that J. A. Divis returned from Shelby on Monday, where he had been employed by Van Ness for four weeks.

Three months earlier, an article located the Tillotson couple in Arapahoe, Nebr. According to The Public Mirror of July 26, 1934 …

Mr. and Mrs. Tillison (sic) have rented light housekeeping rooms at the Orval Millard residence. Mr. Tillison (sic) is employed with the Van Ness Construction Co. of Omaha and is working on the Farmers’ Elevator repair job.

The Tillotsons had a very full work calendar that year.

The Nemaha County Herald of Feb 14, 1935, said that C. H. Tillotson of the Van Ness Construction Co. of Omaha was a Brock visitor on Tuesday. Was it a sales call for elevator work in Brock, Nebr.? Or was it a social visit?

Other newspaper social pages gave us more Van Ness employees and their projects: Mr. Webb was in McNeill, Nebr. in 1935 doing elevator repair; Phillip Connell was in Rydal, Nebr. in 1935 for an automatic shipping scale installation; Guy Freeman of Fremont was in Fremont, Nebr. and in Kansas in 1935 doing work for Van Ness; Mr. Wise was foreman at Grafton, Nebr., doing elevator remodeling in 1938; and Mr. R. A. Spatz was foreman at Blue Hill, Nebr. and Keene, Kans. in 1938, performing elevator overhauls.

The previous items spanned the period after the Van Ness family left the business, and when Charles H. Tilloston was a partner. They show indirectly how prominent in the trade Van Ness Construction had become.

A much earlier mention from Marysville, Kan. in 1925 said Mr. Greenway was working on a new elevator there. This Mr. Greenway was among the board members when the company first incorporated. It was the lone mention of Van Ness in the society pages, before the 1930s, that I could find so far.

In an upcoming post, I will review some rather unusual incidents and life events that shed further light on Van Ness Construction.

Old wooden elevators must repurpose or perish, as the surviving elevator in Lander, Wyo. shows

by kocart

Story and photos by Kristen Cart

It’s wonderful to find an elevator that has taken on a new life. The Lander, Wyo. grain elevator, which stands sentry at one end of the business district, was in a sorry state when its rescuer arrived on scene, as told by the Cowboy State Daily, Jan 20, 2024. It took a lot of money and a bit of wild romanticism to see beauty in the spoiled hulk, and to do something about it. I too wondered how that bike got up there. Now I know.

Artists who happened through Lander have also been inspired by the elevator, and you will find it with its Bike Mill and Purina checkerboard represented in paintings and drawings all over town. J. C. Dye, a local painter and sculptor, recently worked on a painting commission that featured the Lander elevator prominently, with a cattle drive running down the main street in its shadow. The painting will soon adorn a local concern.

An old elevator normally will not overcome fifty or more years of pigeon poop and rotten grain crusted throughout the interior, with rain and snow coming in through a ruined roof. It will become a haven for vermin, a nuisance, and a safety hazard. Then it will meet the bulldozer or the wrecking crane.

Many elevators didn’t make it that far, as revealed by story after story in local newspapers of elevator fires and the ensuing destruction.

A lot of these old monuments won’t overcome the day they no longer make money for their owners. The Cogdill elevators and mills in Dow City and Dunlap, Iowa would meet their demise by fire. The sons of Pat Codgill of The Cogdill Farm Supply Company intended to demolish them to modernize the operation after taking over for their dad. When I looked for them some years later, the elevators were gone.

The demolition at Arimo, Idaho on May 1, 2012.

The better preserved elevators may be taken down board by board for their pretty blond lumber, the way the elevator in Arimo, Idaho, met its fate. The wood became more valuable than the storage. The economics are brutal once these structures become obsolete.

A demolition in Billings, Montana, in 2025

I caught the very end of a demolition in Billings, Montana, recently, and stopped for a couple of snapshots. The old wooden mill was mostly shredded lumber, and the concrete bins were a tangle of rebar and gravel, with a few remaining hulks. In a few days, there would be little left. It’s a depressingly familiar scene.

It’s very nice to come across a survivor. Thank you, people of Lander, for saving a piece of your history.

As wooden elevators disappear, documentation becomes difficult

by kocart

Story and photos by Kristen Cart

As we research an earlier generation of elevator construction, we can find wooden elevators, but not the ones we hope to find. It is almost impossible to match a builder to a specific elevator this late in the game, especially among the few surviving examples. But we are trying.

The difficulty is easy to illustrate. A case in point is the old elevator in Chugwater, Wyoming. I noticed it in the early 2000s on one of our many hunting trips while bypassing the town on I-25. I planned for a future photo shoot there, catching a cell phone image on the fly a couple of times to note its location. Once, I pulled over on the side of the road to get a couple of for-the-record shots. But when I finally decided to give it a proper visit, the elevator was nowhere to be found.

Chugwater, Wyo, 2016. The elevator on the left has disappeared.

Chugwater is known for some rather fine barbecue sauce, and it also has a historic soda fountain with the best root-beer floats ever made (just don’t stop on a Tuesday or Wednesday, when they are closed). When I asked a local business proprietor how long the elevator had been gone, she didn’t know–although she grew up in the town, she didn’t notice its absence. It was just there, and then it wasn’t.

I drove to the old elevator location, and found hardly any debris. Some concrete pads still existed in the field next to the railroad tracks, but you couldn’t tell what had once stood there. I took a couple of documentary shots. Those telltale concrete pads only remained because digging up the large quantity of concrete that supported the structure would be too expensive. And who really cared?

I guess I care, and I am scrambling to catch the last moments of the few elevators I can photograph while they exist.

Another example is the elevator in Clayton, New Mexico. It presently serves as a coffee bean roasting facility for an adjacent coffee house, but not for much longer. The proprietor explained that the elevator was beginning to lean because the prior owner had removed some structural support beams for personal use. The elevator is showing the strain. The metal siding is beginning to buckle, and even the resident ravens seem worried.

A raven holds court atop the Clayton, NM elevator, March 2026

I took pictures–lots of them.

We will keep trying to find any surviving Van Ness Construction-built elevators, and we will document their history. In the meantime, I will catch snatches of hundred-year-old stories while memorializing wooden elevators for as long as I can.

An ancient Van Ness annex survives to the present in Alliance, Nebr.

by kocart

By K O Cart

When my blogging partner Ronald Ahrens received a cache of photos from his grandfather’s estate, he discovered pictures of the construction of an elevator annex in Alliance, Nebr., as indicated by handwritten captions. I searched my old elevator photos and found this 2016 image from my stop in Alliance on a trip through Nebraska. Details of the old headhouse were an exact match to the Van Ness Construction photos from Alliance, which Ronald featured in an earlier post on this blog.

I decided to revisit the site in February to see if the elevator and annex were still standing. We were in luck.

With the passage of another decade, the elevator (pictured above in my photo) looks more tattered and plainly unused, but it stands much the same as in this image. A local man who worked nearby said that owls lived in the headhouse, and they might come out in the evening, if I wanted to see them. I didn’t have time to stay until nightfall to find out. Otherwise, all was quiet. The annex had been quite a grand affair when first built, and was solidly constructed. It had not changed very much at all from the outside in nearly one hundred years.

This Feb 2026 photo shows some sheet metal loss and roof damage on the main elevator. The annex behind it remains solid.

I researched newspaper articles about Van Ness Construction and found that they repaired, updated, and also demolished elevators in the 1920s and 30s. Their niche in elevator construction fell somewhere between the first elevator pioneers and the builders of the concrete era. It is highly unlikely that many of the first-generation elevators survive, since new technology rapidly overtook them, and many of the Van Ness-period elevators are also gone. It was quite a shock to find one of their projects still standing.

To discover a Van Ness elevator that still exists, I start with a newspaper search to find a location, then check a Google satellite view to decide whether a visit is warranted. I also check my photo archives. So far, I have found only one, which, having dodged almost a century of tornadoes and the wrecking ball, is rather amazing to find. The Alliance annex holds the title as the only known remnant of decades of work by the Van Ness Construction Company. The title will stand, until we dig up another one.

Taken in Sep 2019, this image shows the size of the annex, which dwarfs the elevator in volume. It has weathered well.

After ‘Burning Down the House’ in Filley, a new elevator went up in nearby Crab Orchard, Nebr.

by baggyparagraphs

For a town that today has just forty-seven people, Crab Orchard sure presented a big footprint. Among other things, the little hamlet on U.S. 136 in Johnson County, Nebraska, about 20 miles from Beatrice, boasted a weekly newspaper, the Crab Orchard Herald. For remodeling needs, the Crab Orchard Drug Co. sold paint and wallpaper, while the Crab Apple Pharmacy carried back-to-school supplies. The Crab Orchard Lumber Co. promoted Arrow Carbolineum, which killed chicken mites in poultry houses after once-yearly application.

As early as Nov. 6, 1908, the newspaper was bragging up the Crab Orchard Telephone Co. for its part in an election-night bulletin-service event that brought national results to “a large and eager crowd” that gathered at the Bank of Crab Orchard. The results were relayed via the Nebraska Telephone Co., of Tecumseh, to the Crab Orchard assembly.

The Herald’s account included a bit of boosterism:

Telephone people all over the United States have heard of Crab Orchard and its telephone system, and we have the word of a man prominently identified with the greatest system in the country to the effect that there is not a more efficient telephone service anywhere than the people of Crab Orchard are getting. 

Could anything more be needed to make a tiny community self-sufficient? The Crab Orchard Grain Co. added what it could to the effort.

We know that Van Ness Construction Co. built a new elevator in Crab Orchard, and because Reginald Tillotson labeled the back of his photo “1934,” we nail down the year. This deduction is supported by a June 29, 1934 update from the Crab Orchard Herald:

The new elevator of the Crab Orchard Grain Co. is fast nearing completion. V.F. Wise of Grand Island, foreman of the Van Ness Construction Co., of Omaha, which is building the elevator, estimates that the job will be completed in another two weeks. The work has given employment to a large number of local men. The elevator, built at a cost of between $9,000 and $10,000, will have a capacity of well over 30,000 bushels. 

It was just over six years earlier, in the spring of 1928, that the company formed.

The Nye & Jenks elevator at Crab Orchard has been purchased by Wm. McNeil of Kansas City, the new owner taking possession immediately. The new business will be conducted under the firm name of The Crab Orchard Grain Co. R.E. Lidolph, local manager, will remain in charge.

We can’t determine when the outgoing Crab Orchard elevator was built. It conducted operations for Nye & Jenks under the motto “We Crave Business and Deal Square.”

Whatever reasons Nye & Jenks had for selling to Mr. Wise may have been compounded by the fact that the company lost an elevator in nearby Filley that April. A group of young people were returning from Beatrice after midnight when they saw “flames bursting through the roof.”

Meanwhile in Crab Orchard, R.E. Lidolph stayed put through everything, and he continued to preside after completion of the handsome new elevator.

On behalf of Crab Orchard Grain Co., he placed a Christmas ad in 1934, writing, “We wish to extend to all our customers and friends best wishes for a happy and prosperous New Year.”