Grainnet

by Barbara Krupp Selyem
Like so many grain elevator offices, the Bombay Elevator Co. office was a museum for priceless objects that cost little or nothing. Years of business licenses were tacked on the wall in consecutive order on top of each other. Yellowing newspaper comics that seemed appropriate when they were taped up hung next to smudged business cards that provided numbers for the elevator vendors. Handwritten notes advertised those wanting to buy and those wanting to sell.

Shelves held a grain company match dispenser from the 1920s and books and memorabilia from various nutrition conferences. There were piles of magazines stacked on the counter, table, and floor. A manual pencil sharpener was mounted near the scale. The moisture tester was not new, but it wasn’t nearly as old as the vintage pans used for sampling. An aerial photo of the elevator hung just inside the door from the pop machine.

Every chair was unique and each donated by customers who brought them in from time to time. The bench belonged to Tubby Aase for 25 years, before Allen Geyer inherited it. Like church pews, the seating was not formally assigned but always respected. Frequently, there were bakery treats and sometimes birthday cakes.

Payroll and farmers’ checks hung on a piece of wood that had been fixed to a lumber shipment decades ago. It was artistically lettered with the words “Bombay Elevator Company, Bombay, Minnesota.”

Disaster
Shortly after 4 p.m. on July 9, 2008, Ashley Linaman who lived next door to the elevator heard popping noises. She saw puffs of dust coming from the elevator and called 911.

Jeff Davidson, whose ancestors had farmed the ground under the elevator and the railroad before each was built, saw a cloud above the elevator from his driveway three-quarters of a mile away. He and his wife, Karen, arrived before the first fire trucks.

In all, about 80 firefighters from six local departments responded. The sheriff closed State Highway 60, but those who wanted to come found alternate routes. Trucks and cars lined nearby county roads, as people gathered in disbelief.

The Bombay Elevator had stood before all memory that day. Despite hope and effort, the two towers, the drive shed, the feed warehouse, and the wonderful old office/museum were completely consumed in what seemed like a matter of minutes.

The Quonsets and steel bins that provided most of the company’s storage and room for its feed manufacturing operation were spared. No one was hurt.

As people would gather to comfort each other after the death of a loved one, in the days since the fire, the community has rallied behind the owners, Steve and Bruce Boyum. The elevator had been Bombay’s commercial hub, as well as its social center. Many voiced their respect for the business and their fond memories of happier times.

Century of History
When the Chicago, Milwaukee, St. Paul & Pacific Railroad laid tracks from Faribault to Zumbrota in 1903, two private companies built elevators in Bombay – L.M. Loomis and Milwaukee. This, however, was the era of the farmers’ cooperative movement in Minnesota, and after months of negotiations, the newly-formed Bombay Farmers Mercantile & Elevator Co. purchased the Loomis elevator in 1909 and the Milwaukee elevator in 1910.

To streamline its operation, the cooperative moved the easternmost elevator onto a new foundation next to the other in 1916. The two elevators would stand as one for the next 92 years.

For a while, despite numerous changes in managers, the cooperative prospered. But in 1924, the farmers were unable to meet their obligations. They sold the elevator to Fleischmann Malting Co. of Red Wing, MN. Later, Fleischmann sold to the Commander Elevator (a division of ADM) in 1944.

Memories of Hard Work
Claremont Skillestad, who had worked at the elevator since 1939, was the manager for 30 years, first for the Commander Elevator and then GTA, the Farmers Union Grain Terminal Association that took over in 1960. His wife, Esther, 91, remembers those hard-working decades.

“In the evenings after supper, I would go back over to the elevator with Claremont, and while he worked, I did the bookkeeping. I was never an employee and never paid a cent, but at least I got to spend time with my husband.

“There were usually six to eight men working at the elevator, and pranks were commonplace. One time, some of the guys lifted another guy’s car up on concrete blocks, then watched from the office and laughed when the fellow went to go home.

"We ground feed and bought and sold grain and coal. Coal cars were moved onto a side track, and one guy unloaded them by hand. I can still hear the sounds of his shovel as it scraped the coal from the bottom of the car."

Kristi Nystuen is the great-granddaughter of Henry Sands, one of the original members of the farmers’ board of directors, and is married to Richard Nystuen, the current manager.

"I started going to the elevator with my Dad when I was four years old. Claremont always had suckers or tootsie rolls, and the men who hung out in the office always teased me. It was most thrilling when Dad let me stay in the truck while the hoist raised the front end to allow grain to dump out the back."

Jeff Davidson, 53, grew up across the street and spent many hours playing on the grounds of the elevator.

"On weekends, we would sneak into the elevator and ride our bikes in the driveway," he recalls. "I know Claremont could see our tracks in the dust on Monday mornings, but he never said anything.

"Most of the customers were real characters. Tubby Aase loved pulling jokes and have jokes pulled on him. People here usually leave their keys in their cars, and one time, at an elevator get-together, Tubby went and moved all the cars to different parking spots.

Recent History
In 1990, GTA offered to sell the elevator to cooperatives in Kenyon, Wanamingo, and Pine Island. None were interested, and all thought a local farmer would buy it for farm storage. They did not anticipate another competitor.

But the Boyum brothers had bigger ideas. They bought the elevator, added more storage, and became a commercial grain and feed manufacturing operation.

Richard Nystuen, who holds a master’s degree in nutrition from Michigan State University, had been Steve and Bruce’s teacher in high school. He worked for another feed manufacturing company in Kenyon from 1982 until the brothers offered him the Bombay Elevator manager’s position in 1996.

Having someone of such high caliber working for their operation was a great addition. That has proved to be true time and again, especially now.

After the Fire
Two weeks after the fire, the smoldering grain was finally extinguished. Under Richard’s leadership, the company recycled the steel and buried the rest of the rubble. Luckily, computer records had been backed up, and Kari Nystuen, Richard’s daughter and the elevator bookkeeper, has been working to restore that information. Business is resuming a more normal operation.

Myron Heggedahl, 91, started hauling grain to Bombay Elevator in 1946 and still comes a couple of times each day, as there is usually someone to visit with. He has said more than once, “It’s a good way to further my education.”

In the days since the fire, Myron has been seen several times standing at a distance with hands in his pockets watching Don Knott and Josh Nystuen working at the elevator.

“In the winter, none of the buildings are heated, and it’s very cold working in those Quonsets. In the summer, it’s really hot. Those boys have been working like troopers cleaning up here.”

“Josh remarked that he hoped the company could keep going because he didn’t want to work anywhere else. If you didn’t hear it, you wouldn’t believe it.”

In her editorial following the fire, Kristy Jacomson wrote in the Kenyon Leader newspaper:

“It is sad to see such a historic agricultural landmark go up in smoke. Generations of farmers have used this rural elevator to market their goods. But as the ashes settle, and the smoke begins to dissipate, hope for tomorrow remains. It might not be ‘business as usual’ for a while, but farming, hauling, storing, and marketing our agricultural commodities will go on. History has taught us so.”

Barbara and Bruce Selyem are directors of the Country Grain Elevator Historical Society. For more information, contact the society at 406-388-9282; e-mail: bselyem@country-grain-elevator-historical-society.org.

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