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

Story by Ronald Ahrens and photos by Kristen Cart

Not a stick of wood!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Construction was expected to take ninety days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Story by Ronald Ahrens and photo by Kristen Cart

June of 1947 was the wettest on record with more than seven inches of rain across western Nebraska. Hail destroyed an estimated one million acres of winter wheat statewide. Beans and other irrigated crops in the North Platte Valley took a hit. Cornfields were written off, hay spoiled in the fields, and uncut alfalfa became woody.

Even though Chicago and North Western Railway chief dispatcher Louis Remillard had accumulated 70 boxcars for grain on the Chadron-Long Pine division, the Northwest Grain Co. in Rushville found incoming wheat testing above 14 percent moisture content and refused one load after another. 

Besides the unusually lush pastures, though, there was a positive effect. At Rushville, the rains softened the ground to the benefit of Tillotson Construction Co. foreman Earl Connors and his crew as foundation work started around July 1.

In blanket coverage for the Sheridan County Star, editor Phil Gottschalk documented the drama of construction foot by foot. Forms started to rise from the ground at 1.00 a.m. on Sept. 5 after a delay in accumulating enough materials. Before long, work had started on the cupola (headhouse). 

By Oct. 2, the elevator was promised to be ready soon. Whitewashing started next, and the detailed description of the “dazzling coat of white ‘mix'” is worth noting:

“It couldn’t be called a paint because there is no paint in the concoction which consists of white cement, volcanic ash, salt, and several other chemicals. The mix will waterproof and seal the outside of the elevator as well as improving its general appearance. The coating will get whiter in a few months as the sun and the salt bleach it out.”

Tillotson foreman Earl Connors expected job completion by Oct. 21.

After operations started, the new elevator received praise for storing grain that would otherwise have been kept on the ground.

“Practically all of the 40,000 bushels of grain which were laying on the ground in Sheridan county on October 15 have now been safely stored in farm bins or commercial elevators. The Northwest Grain Company elevator in Rushville was completed in time to absorb nearly all the grain in this area which had been left outside because of a previous lack of storage space. Since the new elevator began taking grain steadily about October 27 over eleven thousand bushels a day have been received for storage. Grain has been arriving at the rate of about a thousand bushels a day, for example on Monday of this week 1,525 bushels were received. Most of this grain is coming from Oglala and Pine Ridge territory as practically all of the Sheridan county grain has already been stored or sold. ‘The elevator holds 100,000 bushels, so we are a long way from being full yet,’ Mr. Bacus said Tuesday. He anticipates quite a rush on grain receipts immediately after the first of the year but believes the new elevator will be able to handle all that comes to Rushville.” 

While editor Gottschalk was pleased, the Star’s columnist Mabel Grimes–whose thoughts open the previous Rushville post–had nothing whatsoever to say about the handsome whitewashed elevator. And in 1952, when she went to Chicago and covered the Republican National Convention for the Star, the C&NW budgeted $10,000 for installation of a signal light at the intersection just west of the depot. Frank Cook’s flagging service was no longer needed.

Our third post on Rushville will go into the background of ownership and the transformational nature of the new elevator.

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

Story by Ronald Ahrens and photos by Kristen Cart

The Chicago and North Western Railway depot in Rushville, Nebr. finally got a fresh coat of paint in the summer of 1947. Paint and painters had been scarce during the war years, and the depot needed attention. Local newspaper columnist Mabel Grimes explained that people thought such an important place of business shouldn’t look so shabby, but a touch-up job had been practically impossible.

“Now, she shines like the morning sun–a lovely bright red!” Grimes wrote in her “Swingin’ up Main Street” column for the Sheridan County Star.

At the same time, there was another forward step, a new sale barn, but it made Grimes worry about traffic at the railroad crossing.

“The hopes of the City Council for a ‘ding-dong’ signal at the crossing have faded—at least temporarily. In its place, Frank Cook sits (or stands) and waves his little red flag! Traffic will undoubtedly increase mightily [with] the Sale Barn and new Elevator across the tracks. And the little red flag might wear out—in time. We do need a loud signal there.”

Cook didn’t have to man the crossing all that often, though, so his flag would have had a long life expectancy. The Cowboy Line of the C&NW carried just a few trains per day on this route to Chadron. Nevertheless, the thought of him in his duster during stormy conditions generates respect.

The elevator in question in the northwestern Nebraska town was the 99,000-bushel single-leg monument then under construction by Tillotson Construction Co.

Foreman Earl Connors oversaw a crew that mixed seasoned Tillotson hands with fresh local talent. As the project got into full swing, the Star noted on July 10 that Leon Lupher, Jr. and his wife had come to Rushville to work on the elevator, and on July 4, their parents arrived to visit from Minatare (home of another Tillotson elevator) and Northport, bringing “well filled” picnic baskets, the contents to be enjoyed in the shade at the park.

In its July 17 edition, the Star noted: “Elevator Goes up Fast.”

“Construction of the new 100,000 bushel elevator is two weeks ahead of schedule, G.A. Bacus, manager of the Northwest Grain Company, said Wednesday. The elevator is ahead of schedule because the construction company found the digging of the basement and boot pit to be much speedier than expected, the ground being soft and easily worked. This week a concrete slab a foot and a half thick was poured to form the basement of the 45 foot square structure. The slab contains 97 cubic yards of concrete—about equivalent to two railroad gondola car loads of concrete. The slab is being made thick because it will bear three thousand tons pressure from the empty elevator and six thousand tons pressure when the elevator is full. This means that there will be a load of nearly three tons to the square foot on the concrete slab base. Approximately 55 tons of reinforcing steel and tremendous amounts of sand, gravel, and cement will be used in completing the 125 foot high structure. Wooden forms for the four large corner bins, each holding 14,000 bushels have been completed ready for installation.” 

An editorial in the same issue lauded the backers of the sale barn and elevator.

“Every load of grain or herd of cattle sold in Rushville will enable the Rushville businessman to expand his operations, pay more taxes, contribute more money to community projects, and build Rushville into an even more attractive trade center and place to live.”

We’ve never found stronger testimonials to the fact that an elevator increased not only prosperity but also happiness. 

Our next post will document foot by foot the rise of the Rushville elevator. 

Manhole cover represents social, commercial importance in a remote town

Photo by Kristen Cart

At an out-of-the-way location on the Great Plains, Kristen visited a 99,000-bushel single-leg Tillotson elevator for a photographic record. We offer her photo of a manhole cover as an enticement for three upcoming posts that explain the social and commercial importance of the first reinforced-concrete elevator at this town. Watch Our Grandfathers’ Grain Elevators for the rest of the story.

Catastrophic collapse in Albert City, Iowa resulted in 7 dead, 1 injured in 1970

In our grain elevator studies, we always keep in mind the danger to workers. We’ve reported construction-site accidents, some resulting in death. Never had we heard of anything as bad as the accident at Albert City, Iowa on Friday, June 19, 1970.

Tillotson Construction Co. built a 252,000-bushel elevator at Albert City in 1954. My uncles Michael Tillotson and the late Charles J. Tillotson worked on that job and have shared memories. The elevator was built with eight tanks measuring 18 feet in diameter and reaching 120 feet in height.

Naturally, the question arises: Did the accident occur at an annex to the Tillotson elevator. No, the Des Moines Register’s photo shows another elevator with two storage annexes.

In any case, the 1970 tragedy hits close to home.

Newspaper accounts explain that the top of a tank collapsed as a crew was finishing construction, and the men–ranging in age from 18 to 49 years old–plunged to their deaths. Another man who was at work in the bottom of the tank was seriously injured. Extricating the victims, who were trapped amid steel and wet concrete, was a monumental challenge.

Des Moines Tribune, Saturday, June 20, 1970:

A Mason City man remained in serious condition Saturday in a Storm Lake hospital with injuries suffered Friday [June 19] when a roof platform atop a concrete grain elevator collapsed, plunging seven other men 130 feet to their deaths. 

Donald Peterson, 48, who suffered internal injuries and shock, was working on the ground inside the elevator when the platform collapsed. He was buried by wet concrete and falling debris. 

The seven dead construction workers are: 

James Jorstad, of Hillsboro, N.D. and his brother Ronald, 23, of Cummings, N.D.; Virgil Buchholtz, 27, of Albert City; Michael McCormick, 18, or Rembrandt; Kenneth Andre, 40, of Fenton; Roger Mitchell, 49, of Mankato, Minn.; and Steven Mangold, 29, of Linn Grove. 

Duane Rasmussen, 32, of Ada, Minn., construction superintendent, said two other workers escaped, 

Leif Rodal, 60, of Oslo, Minn., was on a catwalk leading to an adjacent elevator also under construction, and stayed on the catwalk. 

E. Frank Klahs, Jr., of Rembrandt was on the platform when it collapsed but grabbed the outer edge of the elevator and hand-crawled 30 feet to a catwalk. 

Rasmussen said he was on the ground a few feet from the elevator when the collapse occurred. 

“I have no idea what caused it,” he said. 

Crews from the T.E. Ibberson Co., of Minneapolis have been building the twin concrete-and-steel elevators for the Farmers Co-operative Elevator Co. here since April. The structures are 130 feet tall and 55 feet in diameter, with concrete walls eight inches thick. 

The roofs were to have been completed Friday.

Rasmussen said, “We had poured about 30 yards of concrete for the roof before [the accident].” 

That amount of concrete would weigh more than 60 tons. 

One workman said the “whole platform gave way after beams on one side slipped down and everything came tumbling down.” 

Rasmussen said the men killed in the fall were buried under a four-foot pile of debris. 

Rescue operations were hampered because the only ground-level opening to the elevator was blocked by rubble that had to be removed by digging. 

A call to AgState Cooperative put us in touch with Marc Mears, chief operating officer. He says AgStates runs both Albert City elevators. The Tillotson elevator continues to operate well, and Google Maps shows it looking well, too.

“The facility is referred to as the North House and is used primarily as a place to unload beans during times that most of the inbound truck activity is corn unloads,” Mears says. “This allows the bean trucks to unload more quickly and avoids having to switch one of the pits away from corn at the South House.”

Given the anecdotes of my uncles’ personal experiences, and the catastrophe at the nearby complex, the North House in Albert City is one of the most significant elevators in the portfolio.

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

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.

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.

Then and now Part II in Montezuma, Kan. confirms modifications to original cupola

By Ronald Ahrens

In the previous post, I expressed uncertainty on the fate of the curved cupola atop Tillotson’s 208,000-bushel elevator built at Montezuma, Kan. in 1948.

Everything else about the elevator matched a 1954 photo, but the cupola appeared to have been modified since. One might even say mutilated.

The original cupola measured 21.5 feet long, 47.5 feet wide, and 46 feet high. Maybe it wasn’t commodious enough to meet a need for higher capacity.

Two readers responded to the post, offering their explanations about the situation.

Longtime reader Chandler Thomas steps forward with this analysis:

“From the photos provided we can ascertain these things. The concrete headhouse/cupola has been removed and a steel structure installed in its place. Both bucket elevators/“legs” are in place, which can be seen on one of the night photos.”

Chandler Thomas continues:

I designed and constructed several upgrade projects to Tillotson elevators.

Commonly, the first issue was to increase leg capacity. There was ample space in the leg wells to accommodate a higher capacity leg. Doing this normally required removal of the pothole-type distributor and replacing it with a double-rotary distributor as is shown in the photos. 

In a few of my projects, the new distributor was larger in diameter than the headhouse width.

I suspect, since this elevator does not show any signs of an explosion, that the headhouse was selectively demolished, a steel structure was constructed in its place to support the new distributor, and legs and the lower portion of the steel structure were enclosed to help keep rain out of the bins from the locations where spouts entered them and from the manholes.

Meanwhile, reader Robert Summers gives a different account:

“Grain dust explosion damage circa 1980 required building a new head house, and by that time OSHA specs encouraged or mandated leg motors and drives not being enclosed to minimize risk of major damage from grain dust explosions.”

We’re grateful to our readers for sharing their expertise

Candid view pairs Tillotson’s 212,500-bushel elevator, small wood elevator at Elkhart, Kan.

By Ronald Ahrens

If a wood elevator ever looked toylike, it was the one in Elkhart, Kan. As seen in an aerial photo, it resembles a model railroader’s prop.

In 1946, Tillotson Construction Co. built an imposing 212,500-bushel elevator of reinforced concrete as part of a post-World War Two building boom. As in the auto industry, which stopped building passenger cars and light trucks for more than three years, scarce resources curtailed activities in the civilian construction sector until the troops were coming home.

Tillotson had built five elevators in 1941, none in 1942 and 1943, and one in 1944.

By 1945, the Omaha company regathered its crews to build seven elevators in 1945–all in Oklahoma and Texas. The next year, there were at least seven more. One was in Wellsburg, Iowa; four were in Oklahoma, and two in Kansas: Ensign (240,000 bushels) and Elkhart. By that time, Tillotson–which started building concrete elevators in 1939–had already built seven elevators, all in Oklahoma and Texas, of greater than 200,000-bushel capacity. The largest of them was a whopping 340,000 bushels at Farnsworth, Tex. The ability to go upscale with the concept and execution of these elevators remains impressive more than eighty years later.

Tillotson hired Potter Studio, of Lamar, Colo., for an aerial shot of Elkhart. On Facebook, I found a post by Timothy K. Coy, who wrote:

My grandmother, her husband Gerald and my parents S.D. and Bette Coy, operated Potter Studio in Lamar from about 1946 to 1955, when Elizabeth Potter retired and the business was sold.

The aerial job must have been one of the studio’s first important commissions.

I have Page 1 of the construction record but lack Page 1A with full specs. Nevertheless, we know Elkhart was built on the revised plan established in Medford, Okla. in 1941. The record isn’t entirely specific about Medford, but I think there were 10 tanks measuring 15.5 feet in diameter and 22 bins. I have no information on whether the job included the office and service buildings.

Until 1945, the record included costs. Medford was built for $41,289.37. While the total isn’t available for Elkhart, there’s a note that the labor rate was 80 cents per hour, with overtime ringing in at $1.25.

Elkhart is situated along U.S. 56 in the southwestern corner of Kansas, bordering Oklahoma’s Panhandle. On our road trip, we were unable to detour to Elkhart but did go to Satanta, which is about 60 miles northwest on that road. The Satanta elevator is one of the first, or perhaps the very first, where Tillotson rounded the corners of the cupola. This Elkhart elevator is a good example of the early rectangular style.

I wish there were more to say about Elkhart but can point out that it previously came up more than a decade ago in a post on this blog. I’d chatted with a California neighbor and learned she had just visited Elkhart. She shared pictures, taken from the car, of “a funny building.”

What was a novelty to her was an awe-inspiring symbol of progress to the people of Morton County, Kansas in 1946, leaving the wood elevator next door to sing the Cimarron Valley Outmoded Blues.

Photos from then and now reveal a pioneering elevator in Moscow, Kan.

By Ronald Ahrens

One of the last photos from the archive of Tillotson Construction Co. that relates to our exploration of southwest Kansas is from the tiny Stevens County town of Moscow. Time was scarce and we weren’t able to swing by the elevators in Moscow, Rolla, or Elkhart in that part of the state, but the aerial photo gives us a good look.

The single-leg elevator in Moscow stands along the Cimarron Valley Railroad and U.S. Route 56. It was built on an original plan in 1948, duplicating the curved-cupola that Tillotson had worked out the previous year in nearby Satanta.

The 100,000-bushel Moscow elevator had four tanks measuring 14 feet in diameter and reaching 120 feet in height. The job required 1,070 cubic yards of reinforced concrete and 49.8 tons of reinforcing steel (including jack rods).

The main slab was 40 x 45 feet and covered 1,712 square feet. The gross weight loaded was 5,490 tons.

The cupola was 14 x 36 x 23 feet (L x W x H). Pulley centers in the leg were 145.5 feet apart.

A note in the records, at the bottom of page 3 (not shown), says “Bad weather.” A second note, this one on 3A, indicates the office building at the site was also part of the build.

I’d like to say more about the history of the Moscow elevator, but from lack of access to digitized Kansas newspaper files, I can’t find contemporary reports of the construction nor any background on Moscow Elevator Company or E.L. Gaskill & Sons, whose names are proclaimed in the aerial image.

For now, I have to satisfy myself with the knowledge it was a good-looking elevator when new, another example of Tillotson style.

Unmarked but not unloved, a likely Tillotson elevator awaits definitive I.D.

The archive from the Tillotson Construction Co. has been richly productive for Our Grandfathers’ Grain Elevators, even in this case giving us an elevator and a storage annex that we can’t identify. The elevator in the foreground appears to have a curved cupola that’s typical of Tillotson’s style. It looks like a single-leg main house with approximate capacity of 120,000 bushels.

In the background, a companion elevator of similar capacity reflects a different style of building.

The tanks of the storage annex extending across the left side of the photo could also be Tillotson handiwork, our conjecture being based upon the characteristic manhole covers seen about fifteen feet up from ground level.

Otherwise, neither sign or label, nor an incidental detail elsewhere in the scene helps to identify this elevator complex.

We look forward to the emergence of further information in the hope of making an identification.