In Search of an Elusive “Spoker” JD-D

by Lee Tubach

Mil Harr and I have known each other since grade school days. My father, who was a pastor, was assigned to a church at Cosby, Missouri in 1949 where Mil’s family attended. Mil and I became good friends, as kids, and then attended the same high school. We went our separate ways after that but kept in touch. As luck would have it, we both ended up with jobs in the Denver area after we got married and served our time in the military. I found employment during my high school days at Cosby, in the summers working for local farmers. Mil’s dad and his uncle Alvin were among my regular employers “buckin’” hay bales! Most of the farmers in that neck of the woods were avid John Deere loyalists, as were the Harr’s. I drove a lot of the two-cylinder John Deere’s in the course of that employment. Occasionally I was forced to drive a Farmall or, God forbid, an Allis-Chalmers now and then, but I got over it. So, Mil and I both grew up with JD two-cylinder fever, from which we never recovered. Mil became the more serious collector/restorer. I was happy enough to later own a couple of John Deere’s. I did accompany Mil, on occasion, to parts hunt on trips to Rocky Ford, La Junta, Lamar and Holly. Mil knew of junk yards in those areas full of John Deere ‘treasures.’ I enjoyed those times, the camaraderie, the road trip and the “thrill of the hunt!” So then, in the year 2,000, after we all survived Y2K and the millennium, we both retired and had more time to pursue the “old tractor” hobby. Mil heard from an old high school buddy, Wilbur Field, who was a year ahead of us in school. Coincidently, it was this guy’s older sister, Darlene, who was my 7th & 8th grade teacher. Wilbur advised Mil that he had a hot lead on a “Spoker” JD-D. Wow, the “crème de la crème” of all collector John Deere’s! They were model D’s in production in 1924-25. The unique thing about them was the fact they were factory equipped with a spoke flywheel; hence the nickname “Spoker D.” John Deere went back to a solid flywheel in 1926. Some think spoke flywheels were short lived because they were a safety hazard. You could get hands, arms and clothing in the spokes when you were turning the flywheel to start the tractor. Doubtful, but indeed some of them were flawed castings and would crack. Dangerous or not, in later years, this made them valuable as a collector’s item because they were rare. Some of them, in good condition, were selling in the five figures. Recently, one that was in perfect condition, sold for $210,000 at a high stakes auction. Serious money! Probably two egotistic rich fools bidding against each other. So, where could we possibly find such a rare beast? In Golva, ND where our buddy, Wilbur, was living at that time. A map shows Golva located in the Golden Valley of North Dakota, about 6 miles south of Beech and I94. Surrounded on three sides by the Theodore Roosevelt National Park and the Little Missouri National Grasslands. The Montana state border is one and a half miles to the west. Wilbur married Marilyn Roberts, one of our high school class mates. He ended up in Golva, all the way from Missouri, to be near a son and daughter and Marilyn’s brother who operates a nearby Montana ranch to this day. Marilyn could stand him no longer and in 2000 Wilbur lived in a trailer house with a large lot in Golva. Huge town with a population of 61 … 60 when Wilbur was ushered out and returned to Missouri. Wilbur had the prestigious political distinctions of being the Mayor of Golva, dog catcher and park maintenance man. Beside all of his civic duties, Wilbur was the “Successful Farming” magazine rep for the Golva region. He had a “Successful Farming” logo on the doors of his old Chrysler sedan. How many engines had he burned up? He had also set himself up as the local classic and antique tractor and implement dealer. Under the guise of being a magazine salesman, he visited various farms and ranches in the area so he could get a peek at all the old stuff they had lying around. When something wore out or became obsolete, most farmers of that day just let it set where it was last used. Sometimes Wilbur would make deals on the old stuff he thought was valuable, then brought his treasures in to store them on the lot with his trailer. It appeared more a junk yard than an implement dealer. Wilbur’s collectible searches uncovered a JD-D with a serial number that should be a “Spoker.” He could not afford to buy everything he found so he told Mil about the tractor. Mil thought a tractor hauling trip might be a great adventure since neither one of us had been in that part of the country and we might snag a real treasure in the alleged “Spoker.” There was also an old International pick-up truck of 30’s vintage that was for sale. Mil knew someone who wanted it. So, it wouldn’t be a wasted trip if the “Spoker” didn’t pan out. In early April of year 2000, Mil and I headed north in Mil’s Ford Power Stroke pulling his flatbed gooseneck trailer. It was a mostly uneventful trip, but within about 100 miles of our destination, we began to notice the absence of any other road traffic. In that area of the Dakotas, there is only rolling farm land with very few houses or farm buildings and most of what was there seemed abandoned. No signs of life anywhere! Drawing closer to Golva, we realized we had not met another vehicle for nearly 50 miles. It was like we had driven into some kind of a third dimension in time. Had the “rapture” occurred and we didn’t even know it? It was like Tim LaHaye’s “Left Behind” series. Maybe we didn’t make the cut! Arriving Golva, it wasn’t hard to find Wilbur’s trailer. He was directly across the street from the local grade school. Uncle Wilbur was at home. (Maybe he hadn’t made the cut either) He welcomed us to a typical bachelor pad and advised us that he was going to make supper for us of cooked tomatoes, as there were no cafés in Golva. Mil and I looked at each other with some apprehension but accepted his gracious offer. As I recall, it was a pretty decent meal! Mil and I went north about 6 miles to Beech, ND after supper and checked into a motel. We woke up to a light dusting of snow on the ground next day and it was cold. After breakfast we went back to Golva, so Wilbur could tour guide us to places of local hidden treasures. The first was to see a farmer named Rodney. After a visit to his farm house, his mother (this guy was single and lived with his mother) directs us to the field where “Sir Rodney” was planting wheat. At that point, we began to refer to him as “Sir Rodney” for some obvious yet undefined reason. We drove to the field but didn’t see anything. Off in the distance we could hear the “thump, thump, thump” of a John Deere diesel. “Sir Rodney” finally appeared on the horizon and when he saw us, he stopped the tractor and came to greet us. The distinctive things that we remember about him was that he giggled like a school girl in response to some of our questions, and also that he had patches sewn on the patches of the overalls he was wearing. Probably sewn on by his mother! “Sir Rodney” owned a ’49 Hudson pick-up, among his various JD diesel tractors (bought for parts, you understand) that appeared to be in pretty good shape parked in his salvage lot. We figured a Hudson pick-up to be rather rare and a pretty good buy if it could be purchased at a reasonable price. We made the mistake of telling “Sir Rodney” that we were from Denver and that ran up a “red flag” for him. Obviously his thinking was, “big city fellers out to screw us poor farmers out of our hard-earned treasures for pennies on the dollar.” I don’t recall if he named a price that was totally unreal or if he refused to sell it, thus we concluded no deal with “Sir Rodney.” It was then about noon and Wilbur said, “I’m gonna buy you boys lunch.” We graciously accepted Wilbur’s offer, as a “free lunch” always sounded good to us! We motored back to Golva, where we recalled there were no restaurants or cafes! What is he thinkin’? We arrived at the Golva Co-Op grain elevator, which also served as the town meeting house, coffee shop and lunch emporium. Wilbur directed us to a sandwich vending machine and told us to each pick one. He plunked in sufficient coins to buy the sandwiches. Then he asked us over to the pop machine where we did the same thing. We then sat down to enjoy lunch with some of the Golva locals who had a difficult time figuring out why we would come all the way from Denver just to buy junk! We were given free hats with the Co-Op elevator logo as an added lunch bonus. That afternoon we visited a place that had three “D” John Deere’s and the International pick-up truck. Mil bought the pick-up and one of the “D’s” of about 1927 vintage. The supposed “Spoker” turned out to look very much like one but did not have the spoke flywheel. Mil thought the serial number matched the 1924-25 production years, but for the money that was being asked, it was not worth it. The flywheel was solid and it would have been difficult to find an authentic spoke replacement. So, no deal on any “Spokers” We loaded the two “treasures” with come-alongs then told Uncle Wilbur we would treat him to supper that evening. He said there was a nice restaurant in the little town of Carlyle, Montana, about 5 miles south of Golva. Carlyle wasn’t much bigger than Golva, but it did have a restaurant, so away we go. The place was full of locals who were not used to seeing strangers, as that part of the world was far from being any kind of a tourist destination. We were dressed in our farmer togs and thought we looked just like they did. That didn’t fool them! We heard necks popping as heads snapped around in our direction as we came in the door. “Yew ain’t from around here, are yeh?” One ole’ boy and his wife were sitting at a table next to us, and you could tell he was straining to hear our conversation. He finally couldn’t hold out any longer. He was looking at our “free hats” from the Golva elevator and said, “Where you boys get them hats?” We told him that they gave them to us at the elevator in Golva. He wanted to know where we were from. We told him we were from Denver and the 3 of us were driving cross country to deliver 3 brand new Mack garbage trucks. “You came all the way from Denver to get them free hats?” “Well, no, we are actually looking for antique John Deere tractors to buy.” Next thing we had to hear all about the John Deere’s he had owned in his life and how many hours he spent on them, etc., etc. He wasn’t much help on the tractor search, claiming he didn’t know of any for sale. We went back to the Beech motel that night and then returned to Wilbur’s place to get ready for the trip back to Denver. Mil was securing the trailer load when one of the teachers, evidently on playground duty, yelled out at Mil from across the street. “It’s about time you git that s_ _t outta here!” She was obviously referring to Wilbur’s yard of treasures. “Well, thank you, M’am, you have a nice day too!” Some of the children of Golva probably learned new words that morning! Mil and I started back to Denver on that note, with the two treasures and to civilization as we knew it. No “Spoker” D’s on this adventurous, yet entertaining with local North Dakota color, trip!