BOYHOOD DAYS RECALLED THE OLD PORTERVILLE HORSE POWER THRESHING MACHINE USED BY PERMISSION OF Mary Kilbourn Morgan, Morgan Co. Utah 115 This item copied from Morgan County News, Sept. 21, 1951 Coming up the valley the other morning we saw a threshing machine at work, with the chaff blowing from the long pipe, and we commented that it was the first threshing machine we had seen in a long time. Seeing this almost passe piece of farm equipment, our minds were flooded with memories of the big event each fall when the threshing crew came to grandfather's farm. We remembered how all the sons and. daughters-in-law, and daughters and sons-in law and all the children converged on the farm to help out with "the threshers." Golden Kilburn was thinking of the same thing the other day as is evidenced in a letter of reminiscence to his parents, Mr. and Mrs. O. S. Kilburn. "It was about 40 years ago, the road was quite dusty in west Porterville. It was in early September, when we had just finished stack¬ing large stacks of wheat, mostly hauled from Millcreek farm. The stacks were well put up and quite high. School was about ready to start and Bub and I were both hoping that the threshers would come before we had to go to school. Finally the thresher caravan was seen coming over the dugway by Will Florence's place; we lit out on a dead run to meet the biggest event of the year, and there they were, the great big separator (the agitator) with four big horses pulling it, with the two grain tables thrown together to form a sort of triangle. Jim Florence was driving the four horses while John Riley Porter tended the brakes. Next came the old horse power with tumbling rods lashed to and being driven by Hyrum Phillips, followed by the trap wagon containing all the little gadgets and the oil and oil cans. Then came Tom Phillips driving the toll wagon carrying a bunch of empty two bushel seamless sacks which could be purchased at that time at the fabulous price of 25 cents each. 116 Grandfather Taylor was all excited to see that everything was in readiness. He had fixed stalls for the horses to be fed by and had a hayrack loaded with hay so that the fellows wouldn't have to get up into the barn for feed. He also had put poles across the ditch where some water had run down through the field so that the thresher would not get stuck in the mud. Through the Dig gate across the road, by the old frame house and up passed the old cellar and granary, down to the corral the train went. Great care was exercised by Jim Florence and John Riley in getting the great separator placed exactly between the stacks and in block¬ing up one wheel on the lower side so as to meet the requirements of a spirit level; the old straw carrier was unjack-knifed and low¬ered away with the web buckled in place, by this time tumbling rods were clanging, sweeps were being inserted for the five teams to be hitched to and stakes driven to hold everything in position. Hyrum Phillips engineered the horsepower setting, while Low Durrant was placing the old measuring box under the worm where the threshed grain was to come pouring out. The two half bushel measure were put in to the box, the tally adjusted to store the number of bushels of grain threshed, and the sacks all laid carefully so that the sackholder could get them without delay. Tom Phillips was doing the oiling and adjusting the belts on the old agitator, while John Riley and Jim were hitching the horses to the horsepower. By this time the pitchers and the straw stackers had arrived. They were sampling the water from the 10 gallon can that had been placed on the shady side of the bundlestack, Dovey Garter, Billy Smethurst, Fred Florence, Kelly Florence, Dan Garter, Joe Mikesell and George Kershaw, the straw stacker, and a number of others who might be loose to help. Each man was busy fixing his large red or 117 blue bandana around his collar so that the chaff and dust would not get down his back and neck. Father (O. S. Kilburn) would come sweeping in with old Sailor and Jack hooked onto the Grain wagon, and back up to the area near the measuring box, so as to haul grain to the granary. By this time every-thing was about ready to go. Hyrum would be perched up on the old horsepower, with his long whip in his hand and all at once, he would yell, "pitchers up." About this time there would be some little dis-cussion as to who was going up onto that high bundle stack first, and George Kershaw would say, "I guess you better go up first, Doc, (meaning Doc or Dovey Carter) you ain't got no children or wife to support." Well finally some one would shinny up the side of the stack and throw a few bundles down. Hyrum would lash the horses and the show was on. The string cutter, usually Sam or Jim, would cut the bands and Tom would start to feed the grain into the cylinder, and the dust flew, the grain started to pour out and the straw was also on its way along the straw-carrier. The next big consideration was for the straw stacker to determine the size that the stack should be so that it would top off nicely when the job was finished. Now 25 bushels are threshed, so Low Durrant had to sack up two bushels of toll, for you know they took eight bushels of toll on each hundred bushels they threshed. The bundles would continue to go through, with an occasional wet or green bundle and you should hear the old machine growl. Too many bundles would hit the table and nearly cover Tom up and he would shake his fist at the pitchers. By this time a pulley would begin to slip and squeak or a bearing get hot and Hyrum would have to stop the horses which needed a rest to keep from getting dizzy going round in the same circle. The straw stacker would 118 come down blowing his nose and wiping his eyes and the pitchers would come down for a drink while the repairs were going on. A few rare stories were swapped and Hyrum yells, "pitchers up," and bundles start to tumble for about another hour, boy, how fast the time goes. There's 200 bushel knocked out and its dark. Double trees drop, as the tugs are unhitched; horses are taken over to the ditch to water, hay is put out around the feed stalls and considerable grain (oats) is kept out to put in the heavy feed boxes. Now the horses are eating and the whole crew, some twenty men, head for the house for supper. You can bank on it that the family has been cooking for days for the threshers for every family tried to out do the other in the community on the numbers of pies and cakes and three or four kinds of meat. If the menu wasn't up to expectations the crew which usually followed the machine thru the season certainly were free about telling it. Washing up for dinner was an event. Tubs of water were placed about the yard with towels hung on the rose bushes for drying. The men would splash into the water, some making a blowing sound like a large whale sounding in Hudson bay. The towels were always a dark complexion after the threshers washed up. The crew was eventually seated around a large table with a banquet of the olden days style on top, and what some of those boys could put away at one sitting was something for Ripley to write about. Dinner over, the machine crew would go to unharness their horses and make their beds, either in the barn or if weather was good, maybe near the straw stack, with plenty of bright straw under them. Others would go home on horseback to return early next morning. Next morning it was cloudy and after a couple of hours of work it would begin to rain. Now it was pitchers down after rounding up the open grain stacks a little. Everyone went home, but the 10 horses were left to be fed until the storm was over. By this time the stack 119 were wet and probably some of the grain had started to sprout, but it was threshed with plenty of the grain going over the straw carrier into the stack. That which was sacked had to be handled carefully for drying. Well, the threshing is over for another year. Us kids would get on stick horses and nearly runn ourselves to death racing around the old horsepower track which by now was some eight inches deep in a perfect circle. School was on now and we only had Saturdays to look forward to. The old time thresher crew is something long since vanished, like a few other things dear to all of our hearts, like the old 24th of July celebrations. It seems that the greed for money has ruined many fine things just as mechanical progress has made obsolete the old horsepower. We cannot live on memories, out have to go along with the times, but it is nice to remember our old friends, many who have gone on ahead, who are part of the days of yore. Used by permission of Mary Kilbourn Mother of Golden Kilburn