More details on the Nebraska elevator site where Jim Russell died

By Kurt Glinn

I was the manager at the Aurora Cooperative Murphy location in central Nebraska. I was told from the old timers in the area that were around when the elevator was built in the late-’50s [that an] accident happened there, shutting down construction for about a week.

The Aurora Coop's Murphy elevator and annex. Jim Russell died in a fall during the elevator's construction.

The Aurora Coop’s Murphy elevator and annex. Jim Russell died in a fall during construction.

Murphy is no more than an elevator along the railroad now. It is six miles west of Aurora, Neb., or fifteen miles east of Grand Island, Neb.

Thank you for a wonderful site. One of my first bosses was a man by the name of Willis “Bill” Maahs. He was a superintendent for Tillotson into the early ’60s when he stayed in Aurora and  became operations supervisor for Aurora Co-op. He helped build the Murphy elevator and the Aurora elevators. There are two Tillotson houses in town, as well as the feed mill in Aurora.

I have always been intrigued with the workings of the old concrete houses versus the new bigger faster ones, although I know how farming and the grain business view them.

Concrete grain elevators are very highly regarded in the industry as the most permanent. My reference is to the older, smaller, multi-bin elevators of 20,000- to 25,000-bushel bins versus the newer 250,000- to 300,000-bushel bins being built.

The industry has come along way in the last fifty years: the ability to jack the forms with hydraulics, the diameter of the bins, the height and capacity of legs. Putting all the equipment outside of the structures rather than enclosing everything in the house, which has saved many elevators from the disaster of explosions, et cetera.

Farmers are into a newer generation also, thirty-five years and younger. They want fast unload and large unloading pits.
The ag industry as a whole had seen large improvements in the size and capacity of equipment, making some of the smaller, older elevators almost impossible to use.

I find the older ones more interesting because they were what started a new generation from wood houses to concrete. Building work floors and platforms from concrete rather than steel and expanded metal. All is my own opinion as to why I enjoy the first generation of concrete grain elevators in the ag industry.

A freak accident led to the fatal fall of Bill Russell’s son

The Aurora Coop's Murphy elevator and annex. Jim Russell died in a fall during the elevator's construction.

The Aurora Cooperative’s Murphy elevator and annex. Jim Russell died in a fall during the elevator’s construction. Photo by Kurt Glinn.

Story by Ronald Ahrens

My uncle, Tim Tillotson, recalls some details of the death of a son of Bill Russell, a superintendent for Tillotson Construction Company. Russell was the father of eight sons in all. The accident occurred in the 1950s.

Although he can’t remember which job [it was the Aurora Cooperative’s Murphy location in central Nebraska] or when it happened, Uncle Tim, who was not present at the time, recalls from on-the-scene reports that two of Russell’s sons were running the night crew.

The two were working with a storey pole, a measuring device of ancient origin. In this case, the storey pole was a metal tape, and it was used to verify the height of vertical sections. One son was on top, fifty-five feet up, feeding the tape down to the other on the ground.

“It was blowing in the wind, and he was letting it out,” Uncle Tim says. “The wind caught it to some power lines, and it gave him a jolt.”

A fall to the ground ensued.

“One side of him hit the Georgia buggy, which kind of spun him around. He was conscious on the ground, saying he thought he’d broken a leg. But by the time the ambulance got there, he’d died of shock.”

Uncle Tim suggests the likelihood of a brain hemorrhage as well.

Mayer-Osborn elevator contract proposals are preserved at Wauneta, Nebraska

Much of the time on the road was spent marketing. William Osborn at the wheel

William Osborn at the wheel. Much of his time was spent selling elevators to prospective buyers.

Story by Kristen Cart

The Mayer-Osborn Construction Company built their elevators from 1949 until about 1955. To do this, they had to beat out a number of formidable competitors, both large and small, vying for the same jobs. But they did not win the contract every time they tried. One example of their perseverance survives at the Frenchman Valley Co-op at Wauneta, a town in southwestern Nebraska. Mayer-Osborn did not win their bid, but their contract proposals, made over a period of several years, are still kept in the co-op vault among blueprints and records spanning almost 70 years.

The cover letter for the Mayer-Osborn contract proposal at Wauneta, Neb.

The cover letter for the Mayer-Osborn contract proposal at Wauneta, Neb.

When I was first trying to get a handle on the scope of Mayer-Osborn’s business, I asked my dad, Jerry Osborn, which partner did most of the marketing. I was under the mistaken impression that Eugene Mayer was in charge of all that, and I thought that all my grandfather William Osborn had to do was show up and start pouring concrete.

“No,” Dad said, “Gene Mayer took care of the office and accounting, but your grandpa did a lot of the sales.”

This ad for Mayer-Osborn Company ran in Farmers' Elevator Guide over a period of several years in the early 1950s.

This ad for Mayer-Osborn Company ran in Farmers’ Elevator Guide over a period of several years in the early 1950s.

Grandpa put many miles on his cars, visiting prospective clients, when he was not supervising an active construction site. He spent almost all of his time on the road. Dad recalls that he and his mother were home alone during those years, while his brother Dick was in Korea and his sister Audrey was married. We have a few pictures of Dad with both of his parents, but they were taken at a job site. The sales part of Grandpa’s job took much more effort than I had ever imagined.

For a closer look at the Mayer-Osborn plans for Wauneta, Neb., and the final outcome of their efforts, stay tuned.

Concrete problems plagued consecutive elevator projects at Blencoe, Iowa

DSC_0578Story and photos by Kristen Cart

In the summer of 1954, Mayer-Osborn Construction built an elevator with a stepped headhouse in the northwestern Iowa town of Blencoe. As my dad, Jerry Osborn, explained, after the crew poured the first ten feet of concrete in the slip-form process, the concrete sides below the forms showed signs of crumbling. An investigation revealed that the concrete mixture had not been set correctly. It took as many hours to remove the concrete and start over as it did to pour it. Dad worked on the project and saw the fallout first hand.

The larger Tillotson elevator stands to the left. The Mayer-Osborn elevator obstructs the view of its large annex which extends behind it.

The larger Tillotson elevator stands to the left. The Mayer-Osborn elevator on the right serves a large annex which extends behind it. Photo by Kristen Cart

Builders were required to do a destructive test on the concrete mix at various stages of curing, to ensure the proper strength for each part of the elevator structure. Engineers tested various mix ratios to decide upon the best one. Naturally, this process was used at Blencoe, but when the mix was finally set and the pour began, it was done incorrectly. I can imagine the blue language wafting from the site as the concrete was taken down. Someone on the site had his ears pinned back pretty fiercely. But the construction continued, and a handsome elevator still stands there today, nearly 60 years later.

Not until this year, when Tim Tillotson located the Tillotson company records and photographs, did we discover that Tillotson Construction of Omaha faced a similar problem as they built their elevator nearby about a year later. This time, the error was not caught as early, and the consequences became immediately apparent.

Tim Tillotson said he thought the blowout happened in about 1955. Whether Tillotson Construction did the repairs and completed the project, or whether another contractor was brought in, is not known to me, but I hope to revisit the site later this year and learn more. The image below is a rare one. It is amazing that photographic evidence survived, serving as a cautionary note, lest any builder were to become overconfident.

Blencoe_blowout-1 copy

This company photo shows the blowout. On the right the completed Mayer-Osborn elevator may be seen.

Errors were a constant threat in this business. In the best cases, they manifested themselves in embarrassing delays, in the worst, they incurred expensive lawsuits or physical harm.

Tillotson Construction and Mayer-Osborn both recovered from their respective forays into bad concrete and lived to build again, leaving handsome and serviceable elevators at Blencoe and elsewhere. The lessons they learned were priceless.

Full specifications of Tillotson Construction’s elevator in Moscow, Kansas

The construction record was written with painstaking attention to detail.

The construction record was written with painstaking attention to detail.

Our friend Linda Laird has asked if the Tillotson Construction Company’s records included any Kansas elevators. The answer is yes, and here’s an example.

In 1948, Tillotson built an elevator of reinforced concrete at Moscow, in the extreme southwestern corner of the Sunflower State. The plan’s basic aspects were as follows: four tanks of 14 feet in diameter, 120 feet in height, and an eight-foot spread. The driveway was was 13 x 17 feet and there were six bins over the drive. Another notation says “Ext. to roof.” This shows up on most other plans and is supplemented by “1/2 grain” or “for grain.” The final item at the head of the plan’s entry in company records notes “13 bins & dust bin.”  Here are all the data:

Capacity per Plans (with Pack) 100,000 bushels

Capacity per foot of height 1033 bushels

Reinforced concrete/plans (Total) 1070 cubic yards

Plain concrete (hoppers) 15 cubic yards

Reinforced steel/Plans (includes jack rods) 49.8 tons

Average steel per cubic yard of reinforced concrete 93.0 pounds

 

Steel & reinforced concrete itemized per plans

Below main slab 2850 lb/25 cu yd

Main slab 12,646 lb/91 cu yd

Drawform walls 68,424 lb/812 cu yd

Work & driveway floor (including columns) 1790 lb/14.5 cu yd

Deep bin bottoms 3740 lb/20.7 cu yd

Overhead bin bottoms 1733 lb/13.7 cu yd

Bin roof (corner) 2284 lb/23.1 cu yd

Scale floor (complete) 100 lb/3.0 cu yd

Cupola walls 3750 lb/40.0 cu yd

Distributor floor 1190 lb/5.0 cu yd

Cupola roof 890 lb/10.0 cu yd

Miscellaneous (boot, leg, head, track sink, steps) 100 lb/12.0 cu yd

Construction details 

Tillotson's Moscow, Kan., elevator, right, was built in 1948. The annex had to come later. Photo by Kristen Cart.

Tillotson’s Moscow, Kan., elevator, right, was built in 1948. The annex had to come later. Photo by Gary Rich.

Main slab dimensions (Drive length first dimen.) 40 x 45 feet

Main slab area (actual outside on ground) 1712 sqare feet

Weight of reinforced (total) concrete (4000#/cu yd + steel) 2190 tons

Weight of plan concrete (hoppers 4000#/cu yd) 30 tons

Weight hopper fill sand (3000#/cu yd) 260 tons

Weight of grain (at 60# per bushel) 3000 tons

Weight of structural steel & machinery 10 tons

Gross weight loaded 5490 tons

Bearing pressure 3.21 tons per sq ft

Main slab thickness 18 inches

Main slab steel (straight) 1 in diameter at 6 inch o.c.

Tank steel at bottom (round tanks) ⅜ inch diameter at 9 inch o.c.

Lineal feet of drawform walls 382 feet including exterior

Height of drawform walls 120 feet

Pit depth below main slab 11 feet 0 inches

Cupola dimensions (W x L x Ht.) 14 x 36 x 23 feet

Pulley centers 145.5 feet

Number of legs 1

Distributor floor Yes

Track sink Yes

Full basement Yes

Electrical room Yes

Driveway width–clear 12 feet

Dump grate size 2 – 6 x 11 feet

Columns under tanks size 20 inches square

Boot — leg & head Concrete

 

Machinery Details

Looking down the crowded streets of Moscow at Tillotson's elevator, far right. Photo by Kristen Cart.

Looking down the crowded streets of Moscow at Tillotson’s elevator, far right. Photo by Gary Rich.

Boot pulley 60 x 14 x 2 3/16 inches

Head pulley 60 x 14 x 3 15/16 inches

R.P.M. head pulley 42 rpm

Belt 14 inch 6 ply Calumet

Cups 12 x 6 inch at 8.5 inch o.c. Howell

Head drive 30 horsepower

Theoretical leg capacity (cup manufacturer rating) 66.0 bushels per hour

Actual leg capacity (80 percent of theoretical) 52.8 bushels per hour

Horsepower required for leg (based on above actual capacity plus 15 percent for motor) 23.3 hp

Man lift 2 horsepower Ehr

Load out scale Two 10 bushel Rich

Load out spout 8.25 inch W.C.

Cupola spouting 8.25 inch W.C.

Truck lift 7.5 horsepower Ehr

Dust collector system Fan → Air

Driveway doors Two overhead rolling

Conveyor Not required

 

Also Built

Office

Truck scale 45 x 10 feet — 50 ton

List of Tillotson Construction supervisors includes 2 unfortunate incidents

Flagler by Gary Rich

Flagler, Colo. in 2011. Photo by Gary Rich

By Ronald Ahrens

My uncles Tim and Charles Tillotson have put their heads together and come up with a list of supervisors who directed operations on Tillotson Construction Company jobs. What follows are Uncle Tim’s notes, and we’ve done the best that we can in regard to spelling.

Glen Morrison

Francis Dawson (ranch in New Mexico connected to ours)

Doyle Elliott

Glen Casey

Jerry Grimes

Wallly Farmer (also did the house, Kelby Road)

Bill Russell (had seven [surviving] sons; some ran jobs for us; one [the eighth] was electrocuted dropping a steel measuring tape down one morning to verify height on a deck “story pole”; wind blew tape, which touched bare spot on high-tension power lines)

Jim Sheets (’bout half Native American)

Everett Glen (Chas & I concur Everett was the super on Flagler, Colo., in 1953; I had told you before that Mother found him dead in his car in the parking at the house where he was working on finish trim, cabinet work, et cetera; this unfortunate incident had to be fall or winter of ’53 after the job in the summer.)

Painting an elevator meant ‘swing time’ on a flying scaffold in the wind

Scan

By Ronald Ahrens

This photo from the Tillotson Construction Company archives shows two painters on a flying scaffold at an undetermined elevator.

The following passage is by my Uncle Merle Ahrens, who recalls spending the summer of 1955 with my Uncle Mike Tillotson, painting elevators in Nebraska:

When Michael and I started work, all the concrete pouring was complete and we were given the task of painting the outside of the whole elevator. We painted it using a lime-base whitewash.

We had to crawl over the edge of the top of the tank onto a flying scaffold. The scaffold was held up by a pair of rope block-and-tackles connected to a pair of wood beams that were extended about two feet over the edge of the tank. The wood beams extended about ten feet inboard and were weighed down with sandbags to keep the scaffold from falling. The scaffold was made up of a pair of two-by-twelve boards with a metal frame at each end and two-by-four railings around it. The rope block and tackles were attached to the scaffold on the ground. We had to pull the scaffold up to the top every time for each ten-foot width we painted.

There was an old man on the ground who mixed the paint and pulled it up to us in a five gallon bucket. He had a harder job than we had. All we had to do was brush on the paint and pull the rope to release the half hitch that held up the scaffold and let gravity work to lower it. The “flying” part of flying scaffold was when the wind was blowing. You would fly halfway around the tank.

Merle at home

Merle Ahrens in 2011 at his home in Titusville, Florida.

Every night we would take off our Levi’s and stand them in a corner. There was so much paint on them! Yet one pair lasted all summer.

After a couple of months we finished painting the elevator in Lincoln and went to David City to paint another grain elevator. This time we used a new latex paint. It was very slow-drying and the wind kicked up a lot of dust. The elevator ended up white with grey stripes.

We kept hearing of accidents at other sites. One man [Larry Ryan]was said to have fallen from a plank used to walk between the tops of two tanks. He was wearing new boots and slipped.

Another was killed when roofers removed the sandbags holding the beam for the flying scaffold so they could hot-tar the roof.

A couple more were hurt while riding on a bucket and the clamps holding the cable slipped. The clamps were installed wrong.

I do know for a fact that one worker at Lincoln was hit in the face when a five-gallon bucket with concrete in it fell while he was using a rope and pulley to lift it overhead.

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Painting a concrete grain elevator in Lincoln, Nebraska

Uncle Tim Tillotson recalled the challenge of painting while the scaffold flew back and forth in the wind. “When you’d come back you’d get a few licks in with the brush,” he said.

Did shacks temporarily shelter workers at Tillotson’s Vinton Street site?

Vinton Street Shacks

By Ronald Ahrens

This photo from Tillotson Construction Company’s archives looks south from the site of the Vinton Street elevator, completed in 1950. On the far right you see the main house, which is finished but for windows. The driveway is formed up. Leftover rebar is in the lower left and scrap is heaped in the center.

It’s unknown whether the silver trailer was being used in connection with the job, perhaps as an office. The black car, which could be a 1938 Buick, and the ugly-duckling blue-gray car, which could be a Plymouth (or maybe a Hudson?)–did they belong to employees?

What especially intrigues us are the shacks along the street. Were they part of the job–again, as office space, or to accommodate  workers? Two of my Tillotson uncles have strained their memories but aren’t able to put together this part of the story, explaining why the photo was taken.

The Big Springs, Nebraska, elevator proved to be a Mayer-Osborn Construction job

The Cheppell, Nebraska elevator built by Chalmers & Borton

The Chappell, Nebraska elevator built by Chalmers & Borton. 

Story and photos by Kristen Cart

My grandfather William Osborn built an elevator in the western Nebraska town of Chappell, according to my dad Jerry Osborn. Dad’s recollections have guided our search thus far, for Mayer-Osborn elevators. Surely over the kitchen table he heard the names of towns where his absent father had construction jobs. Or perhaps he saw the postmarks of letters sent home.

Chappell was probably stamped on one of those postmarked letters, or it was the nearest town with a motel, because when I went to visit in 2011, there was nary a Mayer-Osborn elevator in evidence. Impressive elevators there were, but I found out later that they all had the ubiquitous Chalmers & Borton nameplate, the trademark of Grandpa’s biggest competitor.

The Mayer-Osborn elevator lacked the annex when it was first built. It is the same plan as used in McCook, Neb. and Blencoe, Iowa.

The Mayer-Osborn elevator at Big Springs, Neb. lacked the annex when it was first built. It is the same style as used in McCook, Neb., and Blencoe, Iowa.

One stop east on the rail line, however, was a large, handsome elevator that looked like one of Mayer-Osborn’s jobs. It was the spitting image of the first elevator Grandpa built on his own at McCook, Neb. The first time I saw it, I was curious enough to snap a photo, but identification was going to wait for another year. My dad knew nothing about Big Springs.

When Gary Rich, a contributor to this blog, looked into the builders of the elevators he photographed, he solved the mystery. He identified the Big Springs elevator by its manhole covers inside the driveway, each embossed with “Mayer-Osborn Construction, Denver, Colo.” above the Hutchinson Foundry stamp.

The Big Springs, Neb. elevator in October, 2012

The Big Springs, Neb., elevator in October, 2012. 

I paid another visit to Big Springs last fall after our Wyoming elk hunt. We didn’t get any elk, but I did get some nice photographs of the elevator. It was a sleepy Sunday with no one around. Next time, perhaps I can see inside.

It is an honor to pay respects to my grandfather’s enduring work. It is living history of a kind that is rarely noticed or mentioned. Once gone, it is scarcely remembered except in dusty repositories of pictures, and in mostly forgotten stories.

At Big Springs, Neb., that day of fading away is still far off in the future.

The Vinton Street elevator’s driveway took special planning before construction

 

Vinton Street Drive way

By Ronald Ahrens

The Vinton Street elevator‘s driveway required the building of plenty of formwork before concrete could be poured. Here we see two men making final preparations. One is sweeping the deck, while the worker at the lower right is perhaps using a tool. The unknown photographer’s shadow intrudes into the lower left part of the frame.

Records show that 17 cubic yards of concrete were allotted for the driveway and the elevator’s work floor. The amount of reinforcing steel was not recorded.

A truck shed was then built. Although we lack a photo of it after completion, the record does show that Johnson Overhead Doors were to be installed, one at each end of the shed. And of course a scale was part of the package.