THE GOLDEN ROLL


| July/August 1975



Picture of the straw pile

Courtesy of Henry Sanny, he Mars, Iowa 51031.

Henry Sanny

GEORGE C. GREEN passed away February 16, 1974 at the age of 88. He was a real gentleman and always willing to help those of us who were interested in engines, equipment and antique cars. He enjoyed your publication very much. In later years, he had time to enjoy the small engines he made as a boy and the 1904 Oldsmobile he purchased in 1907. Submitted by James Stoats, 7 Kiltie Drive, New Hope, Pennsylvania 18938.

ELMER B. LARSON, President of Western Minnesota Steam Threshers Reunion passed away unexpectedly May 12, 1975. He was 59. He died of a heart attack shortly after arriving at 'Steamer Hill' at Rollag, Minnesota. He was elected President of the organization in 1967 and his knowledge in restoring old machinery and enthusiasm in promoting projects at Steamer Hill has brought many permanent attractions to the Annual Labor Day Show, considered one of the best in America. He was known throught the nation for his knowledge of early day farm machinery, and his business firm in Fargo, North Dakota restored machines for several Midwest Reunions. Needless to say, Elmer Larson shall be greatly missed by his fellow threshermen. Submitted by Mrs. Jim Briden, Route 1, Box 292, Fargo, North Dakota 58102.

FRED HUNTINGTON - 1898 - to January 18, 1975, from R. R. 3, Bloomington, Indiana. He was at various times in his bountiful life a custom thresherman, county surveyor, school teacher and a farmer. Until recently he owned a 19-60 Keck Gonnerman engine which was always an attraction at the fairs and parades in the area. Fred was an avid conservationist and treated the land with great respect. He was a fine example for us all on how to care for and heal the land. Few men have walked the road of life so quietly, yet left such deep footprints. He is deeply missed by all. Submitted by Michael Lucas, R. R. 5, Bloomington, Indiana 47401.

ARIE KORTHOF - Minnesota:

He's gone now, never again to climb behind the throttle of our Minneapolis steam engine.

Maybe he's chuckling at the thought of four novice steam engine owners trying to figure out what to do next. Or maybe he's a bit sad at knowing the Big Minnie, as he called her, will jerk and sputter under inexperienced hands.

ARIE KORTHOF steam engineer extraordinary - by both his and our description - has left us. Not in the heat of a blustry August after when the steam reached 100 pounds and oat stacks stand glistening next to a beckoning separator. But rather on a winter afternoon when the Big Minnie stands in hibernation and the oat fields are white memories of what has past.