Courtesy of Ed Jungst Minneapolis, Minnesota
This drag saw is another tribute to the will of the individual
to survive the great depression through willpower, ingenuity, and
initiative. It was built by Irvin H. Larson, now a resident of the
Minneapolis area.
Rolling the Venn-Severin onto temporary cribbing. A good look at
the oil and air control valves above crankshaft end. L. to r. Don
Gibson, John Davidson, John Haisma and Rodger Phillips on
tractor.
Irvin was a 24 year old carpenter in 1930, when he and a cousin
decided to cut firewood in the Fairfax, Minnesota, area to help
them survive the long, lean Minnesota winters. They contracted with
a trucker who had bought stumpage on a tract of land in the
Minnesota River bottoms near historic Fort Ridgely, which was made
famous during the Sioux Indian uprising of 1862. Irvin and his
cousin were to fall the trees, buck them up in stovewood lengths
and split them. All this at the rate of one dollar per cord. Trees
were elm, soft maple, basswood and ash ranging from one to three
feet in diameter.
It didn’t take them long to realize the need to mechanize,
so they went to an implement dealer in Gibbon, Minnesota, and
purchased the Hercules engine for three dollars; used but in good
condition. A one man crosscut saw blade was tried, but being too
thin it doubled right up ribbon shaped in short order. More cash
outlay was found necessary when a genuine blade was ordered out
from Sears Roebuck. Wheels were from two old grain binders. Trucks
did not swing, as with fancier commercial models, so machine was
simply dragged sideways to new cut by these young strappers. Gear
reduction was from an old pump jack. Clutch assembly was made from
two old Chevrolet clutches. Pitch problem was solved by pouring
kerosene on the blade when necessary.
The end of the line and a new home for a grand old engine. L. to
r. Bob Schmidt, Rodger Phillips, Jim Harmon, Bobby Givson, John
Davidson, Don Gibson and John Haisma.
Irv says, ‘Though the machine would make four cuts for every
one we could make with a two man crosscut, we worked all winter and
in spring we were exactly where we started in the fall — BROKE. We
walked off and left the machine sit in the woods in the spring of
’32 and never went back.’
