SPARK PLUG OF THE MONTH

By Staff
Published on September 1, 1970
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Courtesy of Joe Fahnestock, Union City, Indiana 47390.
Courtesy of Joe Fahnestock, Union City, Indiana 47390.
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Courtesy of Joe fahneslock, Vnion City, Indiana 47390.
Courtesy of Joe fahneslock, Vnion City, Indiana 47390.

Dayton Daily News & Radio’s ‘Joe’s
Journal’

‘Oh come, come, come, come — Come to the church in the
wildwood. Oh come to the church in the vale …’

There’s no place so dear to this Spark Plug man, as the
little white church by the side of the road where Woody Turner
preaches ‘salvation’ for the lost souls of old, rusty gas
engines.

The coal oil lights flickered late into the night at the little
old Antioch Methodist country church. But there was no choir
beckoning us to its door with the rendition of that old-time hymn,
‘The Church In The Wildwood’ as there once was calling
sinners from across fields and meadows back to the fold. No bell
was ringing in the belfry overhead.

As we entered the silent portals and stalked quietly and rather
hesitantly through the tiny vestibule, as if afraid we might
disturb the evening worship, we almost wished there were a choir to
stare at us and heads twisting on necks throughout the congregation
as if asking, ‘Who are those strangers in our midst?’

But, alas, the little country church has gone the way of other
Americana so dear to our hearts — a victim of the modern age. The
human element of choir and congregation singing forth about the
old-time religion was strangely silent. Instead there sat a
solitary figure, feet propped up on some old wood crates and
lolling back in an old swivel chair, blocking the aisle where once
the deacons passed the collection plates. He seemed tired from his
day’s labors. Like a country preacher, looking over his
evening’s sermon, he was thumbing thoughtfully through some
tattered pages — not pages of Holy Writ, perhaps, but papers and
programs pertaining to the forthcoming big Tri-State Gas Engine and
Tractor Reunion soon to be held up Portland, Indiana-way.

The ‘preacher ‘ was none other than Woody — Woodrow
Wilson Turner, famous for his ‘League of Notions’ when it
comes to ideas and innovations for planning and running an antique
tractor and gas engine reunion. Like his famous predecessor,
President Woodrow Wilson, author of The League of Nations, Woody
Turner has that certain fertility fermenting in his noggin that has
set him up as number one man in the hearts and minds of gas engine
bugs throughout the great midwest. Not a man in the organization
that you can ask about Woody Turner but will answer, ‘We’ve
got the best president that any bunch can have. That Woody Turner
is tops.’

It was a maze of old-time patriotism flavored with memories of
country religion that hung like an aura over the specimens of early
Americana — the ancient gas engines, oil lamps, printing presses,
lard presses, cider mills, wooden pumps and whatnots that Woody
Turner had collected in the old church to rehabilitate and preserve
for posterity. In the once vocal choir loft, there now stands an
assortment of old farm gas engines with others likewise are spotted
in the crowded church aisle here and there where once the church
pews held human worshippers singing praises to God. Up on the
rostrum where once the preacher pounded the pulpit, warning of
hell-fire and brimstone and calling sinners to repentance, there
now stands an old printing press with type-sets, upon which
President Woodrow Wilson Turner prints up his ‘League of
Notions’ about how the next gas engine and tractor reunion
will, or should be run. And smiling benignly on his labors is a
faded portrait of Father George Washington, hanging a bit askew on
the wall, while Old Glory lends authenticity to the proceedings
even if its field of stars should be displayed to the left instead
of the right.

SPARK PLUG WOODY TURNER’S THEME SONG TO DEAN AND FORGOTTEN
OLD GAS ENGINES IS THAT FAVORITE OLD HYMN – ‘Come, Come, Come
to the church in the vale’ When folks ask Woody Turner what
he’s going to do with that old engine, it may sound sort of
unorthodox to say, ‘I’m takin’ it to church.’ But
that’s exactly what he does. Shown here, Woody is unloading an
old Anderson Reliable Gas Engine, made in Anderson, Indiana.

‘Yes, I’ll have to reverse the flag,’ replied
President Woodrow Wilson Turner, after my school ma’rm wife had
reminded him of the correctness of hanging the American flag. Over
the vestibule entrance of the old church, where once folks entered
to seek the Gospel light, there now hang rare remnants of another
kind of light -an old kerosene headlight which a friend had given
him from an ancient stream thresh engine, an old coal-oil bandstand
park lamp, a spidery looking gas light relegated from a village Odd
Fellows Hall — all early forms of human attempts at giving light
to a darkened world.

To the left. as one enters the sanctuary, there is Woody
Turner’s well-catalogued department of old gas engine parts,
valves, rocker-arms, compressions springs and magnetoes.

And yet we’ve only begun to describe the main items of
interest, let alone those possibly just as signilicant but less
noble in proportions.

True, the old upright church piano may no longer be plunking out
tunes about the old-time religion but it’s a mighty handy place
to set such things as antique kerosene railroad lanterns and
half-horse electric motors on. And the main aisle where young
marriageables, bent on matrimony, marched altarward to the tune of
‘Here Comes The Bride,’ rendered by the church
‘pie-anist,’ now boasts having the first cider press ever
installed in a Methodist Church. All of which would require very
little conversion to dispensing communion grape juice should the
old edifice ever return to its churchly functions.

Overhead hangs kerosene headlight from an old Thresh Engine, a
coal-oil park bandstand light and gas light from a village Odd
Fellows Hall. Woody Turner is holding an apple peeler from his
collection. Beneath juts the head of a Gray Gas Engine.

Though it may sound sort of unorthodox, whenever someone asks
Woody what he’s going to do with that gas engine he’s just
bought at a farm sale, and he answers, ‘I’m going to take
it to church’ — that’s exactly just what he does. Indeed,
it’s no laughing matter amongst neighbors who are used to
seeing Spark Plug Woodrow Wilson Turner drive up to the little
church by the side of the road, unclasp the chains, and lovingly
lug off from the bed of his pickup truck another and another old
gas engine, tenderly carrying them through the vestibule portals.
Once in the inner sanctuary, like a country pastor administering to
a dying, lost soul, Woody applies all the miracles of the
proverbial Spark Plug that restores the old engine to a new chug
and purpose in life. And from thence, if some eagle-eyed engine
swapper doesn’t arrive at the church on time, before he can
move it out, they eventually wind up in his spacious engine barn,
at home, where they are mounted on his big red fire truck for the
next Tri-State show, come the middle of August.

‘Whether it’s cider presses, lard presses, cherry
seeders or apple-peelers or gas engines — it’s mighty hard to
outsmart Tri-State President, Spark Plug Woodrow Wilson Turner who
collects and cherishes them all.

An honored seat in the Spark Plug Hall of Fame to Woody Turner
for his tireless efforts at searching out the unusual and worth
preserving of our great American past. And for his tireless efforts
at planning, guiding and bringing into fulfillment such an
outstanding show as Tri-State Gas Engine and Tractor Show, with all
the sideshows of old-time fiddlers’ contests, apple-butter
makin’ by steam engine, the exhibits of rare old watches and
early American radios, boots ‘n shoes and even the spinning of
flax and cotton thread — we simply cannot thank him enough.

‘The biggest thanks 1 get are never said,’ sighs Woody.
‘It’s just in knowing that folks get to see things at our
show they never have seen before.’

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