Box A, Worcester, New York 12197
Probably one of the most serious maladies to strike an old iron nut is 'RUMELY FEVER.' It's one of the easiest collector diseases to get, but one of the hardest to cure. Granted, the antidote is well known, but the prescription (buy a Rumely) is hard to fill. Not only is the cost prohibitive, but available ingredients are hard to locate.
Prior to finding a heavy-weight to suit my fancy, I spent a small fortune on stamps and a great deal of time on correspondence. I am grateful to the many fellow collectors who fully understood my plight and offered as much assistance as they could.
Of the dozens of letters I received, all but one offered Rumely lightweights. I had just about settled on one located on the west coast when I received a letter offering a heavy-weight in Iowa. Now that's a little far for a preacher to trailer something that size, but it started me thinking heavy-weights again.
While waiting for pictures to arrive from Iowa, a friend called me on the phone and told me he had a Rumely to sell only 123 miles south of Worcester.
That's all I needed! By now, my fever had become a raging passion. I was unable to go to see the Rumely for three days as I had other pressing appointments. However, my wife and sons were very understanding as I wandered about the house going 'huffa-huffa' trying my best to sound like a full grown Rumely. To console me for the moment, my son, George, even designed me a special Rumely shirt. I wore it around for the next three days-sort of like a security blanket.
Tuesday finally rolled around, as Tuesdays always do, and as soon as the boys left for school, I left for Marlboro, New York. Straining to hold the 400 horses of my Caprice to the legal 55 MPH, I finally arrived at Ed Dina's shop around 11:00 A.M. that morning.
We soon left for his home where he showed me the 20/40 under the shed. I looked at it and it looked at me and we both knew we weren't made for each other. My heart sank to my boots! I knew I would never have room to maneuver that hunk of iron around behind the church so I knew I would have to pass on the 20/40. Immediately, the fever, which had started to subside, raged again.
Ed said he really didn't want to sell that one anyway but he had one in the barn I might like.
We tramped through the snow and into the barn and there before my eyes stood the most beautiful 16/30 I had ever seen. It easily spoke of the many countless hours Ed had spent in loving care and restoration.
Not only did he want me to see it, he wanted me to hear it. I told him I never expected it to start in the 17° weather but after a few pulls on the flywheel, I heard the old familiar warcry of the heavy-weight-HUFFA-HUFFA-HUFFA - my heart skipped a beat.
After about an hour I was on the road headed north, the proud owner of a 16/30, and I was wearing the biggest grin I ever wore.
You fellow collectors, you know what I mean!!!
A reprint of a Sandwich Gasoline Engine Catalog, showing numerous products, has been issued by Vestal Press of Vestal, New York.
Picture reproduction is of exceptional quality. The maker, Sandwich Manufacturing Company, Sandwich, Illinois, said it sought to turn out 'the best engine sold in the agricultural trade.' Discussing its 'Excess Power Gasoline and Kerosene Engines,' the firm said: 'Sandwich engines are all of the horizontal type. The beds are unusually heavy and amply strong for the strain put upon them. The crankshaft boxes are cast at an angle of 30 degrees, thus distributing the thrust equally throughout the bed instead of directly against the bolts which secure the box caps. All beds are surfaced and bored in jogs, insuring accuracy.'
We could not find a date of issuance of the catalog, but Sandwich collectors will probably be able to zero in on it. It has 32 pages, 6' x 10'; $4.00 postpaid. A job well done.
The catalog can be ordered from Stemgas Publishing Company, Box 328, Lancaster, Pennsylvania 17604. -Gerry Lestz