MARYLAND STEAM HISTORICAL SOCIETY BICENTENNIAL SHOW REPORT 1976

Also, on the week-end, the antique automobile owners from the
nearby communities had their beautiful autos on display. There was
a Stanley Run-about which was in excellent condition.

There were also helicopter rides available on the show grounds.
As usual, the food stands were continuously busy, with hot
sandwiches, drinks and homemade soup prepared on the spot.

President Gilbert Wisner and all of the directors and members of
our club wish to invite you to our 1977 Show in September 15-18.
Come and join us this fall – admission and parking – Free!

Some time ago my son presented me a birthday gift of a
subscription to Iron Men Album Magazine and I have now received
three issues.

I want to express my appreciation to I.M.A. for the many fine
articles and pictures of each issue. It sure has taken me back to
the early twenties and my experience as operator and owner of steam
engines and threshing machines.

My interest in steam engines goes back to my early childhood.
When about four or five years of age, my father said one morning
that my Uncle was coming that morning with his engine and sheller
to shell corn. I remember taking a place near a window overlooking
the farm yard; soon the engine with sheller behind came into the
yard. I was amazed at the big machine slowly coming thru the yard
with black smoke pouring from the stack. My amazement soon turned
to terror as my Uncle blew the whistle loud and long, the big
screaming monster was too much and I ran to Mother’s bedroom,
crawled under the bed, where I stayed till noon, according to my
mother’s story.

After they had dinner my Uncle took me out to the engine, told
me to pull the whistle string; it was a little scary, but fun. The
rest of the afternoon I sat watching the engine run, intrigued to
no small degree by the whirling balls of the governor, and thus my
love of engines was born.

However when I was 10 or 11 years old, that love of engines was
almost extinguished. My same Uncle was baling straw on our place
and I was on or near the engine most of the time. My Uncle had to
go to the baler to make an adjustment and he showed me the throttle
lever and that I was to push it forward if he gave me the signal to
stop the engine. The signal soon came and I jumped at the
opportunity to stop the engine. Being a little short, I grabbed a
pipe at the rear of the boiler so I could reach up farther. The
pipe, unfortunately for me, was the hot pipe to the injector and
the palm of my hand was literally fried to the pipe; quite a blow
to a budding ambition to operate a steam engine some day.

A few years later at the age of 17 my father sent me to the
threshing run in our community with a bundle rack and team. This
was quite a thrill for me, for now I was taking a man’s place
and contact with the threshing machine crew the steam engine and
separator.

Through the several years that followed I looked forward each
fall to the threshing run, the big meals for 18 or 20 men mostly
neighbors and hired men; the good-natured banter among the group;
also of course my love and interest in the threshing rig. I used
every opportunity to observe and question the crew about the
operation of engine and separator.

In the spring of 1919 my Uncle asked me if I would be interested
in a partnership with him in a threshing machine venture. I leaped
at the idea, but worried about the finance of the project.

We ended up buying a new 20 HP Minneapolis engine and a slightly
used 36-54 Advance separator.

This outfit was used for many years in my home community and
proved to be quite profitable. Besides our threshing run we moved
many buildings and filled silos. After we finished our Community
threshing in 1921, we shipped the threshing rig to Cheyenne county,
20 miles south of Sidney, Nebraska. This was new country and wheat
was real good. Most fields were at least 160 acres and we would set
in each 40 acres, all shock threshing. Four big Bethlehem trucks,
big for that day hauled the wheat 20 miles to Sidney, Nebraska. We
had instructions not to stop threshing if a truck was not there, so
many times the wheat would pile up on the ground under the
separator.

We got 12 cents per bushel for threshing and that was good money
for that time. I would sit up on the separator and every time the
weigher dumped the half bushel I figured there was six cents for my
partner and the next one, six cents for me.

My Uncle and I almost met disaster there one afternoon in a
severe thunderstorm. We had covered up the separator with a tarp as
the storm approached and then ran for the farm house one-fourth
mile away. About half way there lightning struck very near and all
at once I found myself on my knees and my Uncle in the same
position beside me. The next morning on our way back to the machine
in the field we found four of five shocks of grain just charred
ashes, how close it struck we’ll never know, but too close for
comfort.

One fall after finishing our threshing run we got a contract to
pull an elevator grader with the steamer for a road builder. It was
a hard task guiding the steam engine to make the right cut for the
grader, but we got good pay for the hard work involved. One morning
a rather amusing incident happened. There were ten dump wagons
pulled by mule teams that hauled the dirt from the elevator grader
and as we pulled into the grading area one cold morning, the water
gauge broke, with a roar of steam and water. Before we could get it
shut off, six of the teams ran away. It took about two hours before
those mule skinners could get their wagon under the elevator.

Another rather amusing incident happened when pulling a house
with the engine for a house mover. One of the moving trucks broke
through a small culvert and while we were jacking the house up to
get the truck out, a convoy of trucks of mobile artillery over took
us. The road was blocked and an angry Army Major climbed on the
engine and demanded I pull the house in the ditch so the army could
pass. I told him the house mover was my boss, talk to him. The
house mover told him to go back one-fourth mile and he could by
pass the block. The indignant Army Major said the army does not
turn back. By that time the house was jacked up ready to go. To my
embarrasment I found that in the excitment I had let the steam
level go down and the engine was unable to move the house. In about
15 minutes it was able to move up to a cross road and the Nebraska
army could pass much to my amusement but not the Majors.

Here is another incident that had us in hot water for a short
time, so to speak. We were crossing a little creek with a rock
bottom, the bank going down was rather steep and on the way down
the safety valve popped off. At that step angle water in the boiler
filled the dome and we were showered with hot water till the engine
became lever. No harm was done but a couple of fellows were pretty
warm under the collar.

The early thirties saw the combine come in and take over the
grain threshing activity. We sold the steam engine and separator
for a measly $200.

I surely thought that would be the end of my experiences with
steam engines, but not so. Some time in the late 60’s a good
friend and neighbor, Ernest Dietz, head of the Waverly Plumbing
Company became interested in antique machinery, especially engines.
He purchased at an auction, a good 1916 50 HP. Case steamer and
later a Woods Bros, separator. Since that time our community has
had some fun gathering for a threshing bee on a Sunday
afternoon.

Neighbors plant a patch of oats and when it is ripe, we cut it
with an old binder and the kids and friends set up the shocks. The
evening of the afternoon we thresh oats, all who have helped gather
for a picnic reliving the old days for the oldsters and confounding
the young folks with stories of the good old Days.

During our local town’s 100 year anniversary, Mr. Dietz
showed his machine in another threshing demonstration and it proved
to be a popular attraction.

Last summer our town had a big Bicentennial celebration and
again the Dietz threshing machine was enjoyed by young and old. We
set up in the city park, hauling oats bundles there in several rack
loads. We blew the straw from the separator into my son’s
covered hay chopping wagon so as not to dirty the park. The large
crowd there asked many questions of the operation and how it all
worked. A couple of boys, after looking at the engine for the first
time, came to me and asked what all the pimples on the engine were
for. I was stumped for a spell and then I realized they were
talking about the rivet heads on the engine boiler.

Once a year for a few hours at least I’m 50 years
younger.