Dr. Bailey and His Wonderful Wheat-Threshing, Wood-Cutting, Corn-Cooking Contraptions

Enclosed also is an article about my steam engine activity as
published by St. Louis University, where I studied Medicine. After
reading this article, one of my patients composed the accompanying
poem, which may be used if you wish.

Following is the list of my engines: 1967 – large MINNEAPOLIS
steam engine. 1968 – model steam engine with water wagon -also in
1969, 1970, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1974. 1975 – Altman-Taylor model
tractor.

William Harold Bailey (Med. ’32) is a city doctor with a
country avocation. He collects and displays old steam engines, of
the kind used on American farms not so long ago to thresh wheat and
saw wood.

Dr. Bailey doesn’t have much time to give to his
smoke-belching monsters. Six days a week he takes care of eye
problems at his office near the University, operates at several
hospitals, and consults with medical residents at Firmin Desloge in
the capacity of associate clinical professor of ophthalmology.

On the seventh day, unlike the Creator, he doesn’t rest, at
least not in July and August. He is busy showing his engines at
gatherings such as the recent Owensville Old Threshers Association
Steam Engine and Threshing Show, in Rosebud, Mo.

Dr. Bailey’s hobby is unusual for a man in his line of work.
He only knows of one other ophthalmologist who collects steam
engines, and that one’s a Britisher. He first became hooked
about ten years ago, when he happened to attend a demonstration of
old-time steam power on a farm near Fulton, Mo. Its purpose was
partly to raise money for a community eye tissue bank. Among the 20
or so engines one caught the doctor’s eye. It was a Peerless,
the same type once used by his father, a farmer, and sold back in
1910. It brought back memories of the threshing season when he used
to help as a young boy.

Since that time he has acquired three old farm machines of his
own two steam engines and a scaled down version of an early
gasoline tractor. One of the steam-powered contraptions is a
Minneapolis #8427, built about 1924. The other is a model engine,
smaller than the original but still big enough, with its water
wagon, to accommodate six or seven small fry plus the engineer.

With or without Dr. Bailey’s own engines, the entire family,
including two small granddaughters, attends many of the old-time
steam shows in the Midwest. A high spot, around Labor Day, is a
five-day gathering in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, which leaves local
residents groggy from smoke inhalation. Steam engine buffs, when in
earnest, burn soft coal in their fireboxes!

The collection, refurbishing and display of old farm engines is
growing in popularity. There are shows even in Florida. But
it’s still an easy-going countrified hobby, which is one reason
the Baileys like it. Many collectors are farmers who sold their
last steam engine for scrap during the Depression and bought back
others as times became more prosperous. For them, in the words of
one addict, ‘It’s like a trip to the attic to meet
yourself.’

Dr. Bailey keeps his machines at a weekend hideout on a hill
near Washington, Mo. The bluff drops down to the Missouri River on
one side. On the other it overlooks the Bailey acreage, settled by
his great-great-grandfather under a Spanish land grant and still
farmed by one of the clan. On his high, wooded corner of the farm
Dr. Bailey has built a cabin, with his own hands, from oak, hard
maple and walnut cut on the place.

‘Bailey Bluff’ is only an hour and a half’s drive
from the doctor’s weekday suburban residence. But it’s a
long way from St. Louis in atmosphere. There the steam engines are
cared for, in the doctor’s absence, by his cousin, Earl
Koirtyohann, who also helps him show them. A third engineer, on
these occasions, is the Bailey’s young granddaughter, Laura
Neuman.

The smaller engine gets around a good deal, in a special trailer
which doubles as sleeping quarters. At Washington, Vienna and
Rosebud, Mo., it makes itself useful riding delighted children
around the show grounds, while the big machines show their prowess
at cutting wood or thrashing grain.

The big Minneapolis, for the most part, stays home on the bluff.
Turning it loose on the highway, under steam power, would tie up
traffic from St. Louis to Kansas

City, so it has to be transported on a special hired truck. But
Dr. Bailey often fires it up to give rides to visiting youngsters.
They love its row of six whistles, each with a different tone. It
also comes in handy for warming up the swimming pool with jets of
live steam. And a special taste treat for guests is steam engine
corn on the cob, roasted in the monster’s glowing entrails.
J.P.

Dr. Bailey and his Steam Farm Engines

It is like a breath of fresh air
After the choking smoke of the past
To read and appreciate their performance
To say nothing of the cast.

In June, one heard their whistles.
Some said, some meant, bring water.
To me they meant another harvest
For one never came without the other.

I was part of a crew once,
Sadly at the very bottom rung,
Pushing wires to tie straw bales,
No risk at all to do something wrong.

My eyes would often fill with chaff,
To have one open was the norm.
Goggles were unknown to us who then
Worked at odd jobs on someone’s farm.

Yet, there were exciting moments in those days,
For once I heard an old-timer calmly say
That he was there when a straw pile caught fire.
Modern evacuation system? Nothing rivaled the one that day!

Tho’ moaning that was heard
Over the total cost,
One is lead to believe
That there were no lives lost.

So, to you engineers of those engines,
Enjoy your memoirs of the past.
Who knows, you may add a few more
As oil threatens not to last.

By Mr. Claude Soto, 10601 Homestead, St. Louis, Missouri
63114.