Tag Archives: history

Page 1 of Tillotson Construction record, with specs, Goltry, Okla. to Wellsburg, Iowa

by baggyparagraphs

Here at last we present a digitized page of the Tillotson Construction Co. record the late Tim Tillotson duplicated in 2012. Kristen Cart took the whole load of dupes to a copy center, and her effort leads to a batch of pages to be shared over the next few weeks. In that service, we’ve created a new subcategory of the blog for the records’ easy location.

Tillotson Construction Co. was formed in Omaha by Reginald and Joe Tillotson in 1938. Their first concrete elevator, listed on this page, was a 60,000-bushel job in Goltry, Okla. We visited that location in 2018.

Rose A. Tillotson was widow of Charles H. Tillotson and mother to Joe and Reginald.

The reader will note the company got off to a fast start until 1941 when World War Two intervened. There is a three-year gap until the next job in 1944. The page lists more from then until 1946. The jobs got much bigger–up to 350,000 bushels at Farnsworth, Tex. (Good luck squeezing “Farnsworth” into a narrow column heading!

Besides Goltry, we find details from Newkirk, Okla.; Douglas, Okla.; Medford, Okla.; Thomas, Okla.; Minatare, Nebr.; Sheldon, Iowa; Peterson, Iowa; Burlington, Okla.; Cherokee, Okla.; Lamont, Okla.; Blackwell, Okla.; Booker, Tex.; Follett, Tex.; Farnsworth, Tex.; Custer, Okla.; Elkhart, Kan.; Kingfisher, Okla.; Thomas, Okla. (another job); Ensign, Kan.; Pond Creek, Okla.; and Wellsburg, Iowa.

We visited some of these locations on our 2018 Texas-Oklahoma road trip.

Job sites are written atop the page with the year of construction. Most note which plan the elevator follows and extra information such as location of the driveway or diameters of the tanks. Zooming in splendidly reveals meticulously written entries. Uncle Tim told us the name of the employee who started this record. Maybe it’s in one of our early posts.

A key to reading this table: The left-hand column headed by “Item” lists various specifications such as gross capacity of the elevator and amount of rebar used per cubic yard of concrete in varying locations throughout the structure.

The middle section is devoted to costs (less commission) for labor and materials and even includes a line for state taxes. Only a few of Tillotson’s subsequent records include costs.

The bottom block has more info about total dollars and labor rates. At the very bottom, the notes are ad-libbed. They elaborate mundane points. One, for example, indicates total cost included a scale and office.

All in all, it’s a direct connection to answers on a great many points of Tillotson elevators.

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.

More than 100 years ago, Charles H. Tillotson posed with … his father?

by baggyparagraphs

The man on the left is probably Charles H. Tillotson, and it’s possible the older man on the right is his father, John Wheeler Tillotson. There’s no labeling anywhere on the photo to help us. The location would likely be somewhere in Iowa. What was the occasion? It could be that Charles was showing off a car on a visit home. We can’t put a finger on the car’s make. Ford Motor Co. dominated in those days, but it doesn’t seem to be a Ford. The refined two-door runabout body style became common across the automotive industry around 1915. Charles H. already had a family by then. This wasn’t a kid-friendly auto, but he may have been setting a standard for his son Reginald and his grandchildren to come. They were all car-crazy.

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. 

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.

How some wooden elevators in Nebraska were repurposed to produce cattle feed

by baggyparagraphs

Story and photos by Brad Perry

In Nebraska, many of the 12,000- to 18,000-bushel wood elevators got turned into feed mills, mainly for cattle feed. Most of these elevators had a roller mill in the basement and made a decent feed mill due to their small bins. An example from Walthill, Nebr. is seen in the photo above.

Halbur, Iowa mill
Dodge, Nebr.
Oakland, Iowa

In Iowa, this was less common due to more hogs than cattle. Swine feeds tended to be more complex with more ingredients than cattle feed.

Feed mills were still being built of wood in Iowa up until the 1960s.

Quad States Construction, out of Des Moines, Iowa, got started building wood feed mills and then became a major builder of concrete elevators and annex tanks.

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.

A reader’s contribution presents two of the largest–and last–wooden elevators on the prairie

by baggyparagraphs

Story and photos by Brad Perry

When I started with the Omaha Bank for Cooperatives in 1975, my accounts were the co-ops north of Interstate 80. One was Tekamah, Nebr., where Farmers Elevator was in grain and feed. I was told this was the last wood elevator built in Nebraska. 

It was huge for a wood house — 100,000-bushel capacity. I was also told they went with wood due to poor soil conditions. You can still see it on Google Earth. It’s the big one on the left.

Editor’s note: The poor soil conditions may have led to a heavy concrete elevator settling.

This June 29, 1961 article from the Burt County Plaindealer describes the new twin-leg elevator that would soon open with all the modern fittings found in a concrete elevator.

The very last wood house we financed at OBC was for the co-op at Sisseton, S.D. It’s still in use and holds 60,000 bushels. 

I can remember it cost $6 per bushel ($360,000) when a 250,000-bushel concrete house was $500,000. 

Minnesota and North Dakota stayed with wood longer than anywhere else because of their cold weather. They built as much as 250,000-bushel wood houses. Wood is a much better insulator than concrete and does not have condensation issues.

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.