Harvey Cleveland fires up his Allis-Chalmers D21 tractor at the going out of business auction of Cleveland Equipment, a Barton institution. Hundreds of customers lined up to buy parts and farm equipment for one last time. Many of them said they would miss Mr. Cleveland’s stock and his vast knowledge. “Harvey was Cleveland Equipment,” one man declared. Photos by Joseph Gresser
BARTON — Anyone driving through Barton Saturday morning knew something big was up. It looked like every farmer, logger, trucker and equipment operator in Orleans County and the surrounding country could be found in or around Cleveland Equipment, as Harvey Cleveland’s vast inventory of parts and equipment went up for auction.
A cruiser from the sheriff’s department, blue light flashing, was on hand to keep traffic moving. It was not an unnecessary precaution as every available space near the barn red buildings was filled by a pickup truck. The overflow was directed to parking that’s normally reserved for the Orleans County Fair, and a shuttle ferried people to the sale.
Cleveland Equipment has been a fixture in Barton for well over 20 years and was in Glover a decade before that. Almost everyone in the crowd had done business with Mr. Cleveland for years, and all said they would miss both the resource and Mr. Cleveland himself.
Dan Molleur said Mr. Cleveland has supplied loggers around the area for years. He said he always had necessary items like cables in stock. He said
A crowd jams the workshop at Cleveland Equipment Saturday, while more bidders wait outside under an awning or in the cold rain. Hundreds of local farmers and loggers showed up to get a needed part or just seek out a bargain.
other dealers didn’t bother stocking some of the equipment carried by Mr. Cleveland because they knew they couldn’t match his prices.
Others said Mr. Cleveland’s stock was only part of the story; his extensive knowledge of farm machinery is irreplaceable, several said.
Kurt Nygren pointed out another, unadvertised, service Mr. Cleveland offered.
“If you feel you’ve been neglected, and you want a little abuse,” he said, “just stop by and see Harvey.”
Mr. Nygren was quick to praise Mr. Cleveland as “the most knowledgeable guy about tractors in these parts. If you need a part, call Harvey. If you need a baler or a hay rake, call Harvey.”
Over the 15 or 16 years he has done business at Cleveland Equipment, he said, “Harvey has been very fair. I’ve always been treated excellent.”
The crowd moved from building to building in the early part of the day, bidding on parts and tools. The smaller items were held aloft so people at the back of the throng could see what was being sold. While some items were easily recognizable, many of the parts were specialized enough that no mere impulse buyer was likely to jump in with an offer.
A white-haired man with a long, unlit cigar clenched in his teeth watched the proceedings in the crowded workshop. Fred Cleveland, a familiar figure at the tractor pulls that often take place in front of the grandstand at Roaring Brook Park, said he had just stopped by to get in out of the rain.
He said he figures that he must be related to Harvey Cleveland through Moses Cleveland, who came to America in 1627 and is the ancestor of most Clevelands in the northeastern states.
Jon Lussier sings out to let auctioneer Toby Lussier know the bid for a piece of farm machinery has jumped.
Auctioneer Reg Lussier, spelled later in the day by his son Toby, kept things moving at a brisk pace as he tried to incite bidders to ever higher offers. The general opinion was that some prices were high and others were pretty fair. No one was boasting of having gotten a great bargain.
Around noon, everything in Cleveland Equipment’s workshop and storage building had been sold, and the crowd moved out into the yard, where new and used equipment, wheel rims and other large items were on display. The cold rain that wet down the area early in the day let up for a while as people followed the sale outdoors.
Richard Somers hovered around a buzz saw built on the frame of an old Massey-Ferguson mower. He said he built it himself in the 1980s and used it to buck up wood until he sold it for $100 in 1995.
Mr. Somers said he wondered where it had gotten to until it turned up one day at Cleveland Equipment. He looked it over carefully, pointing out where a safety guard had been welded onto the outside of the saw blade housing, and how the moving table on which the wood to be sawn rides had changed from his original design.
He said he would miss Cleveland Equipment because it’s “about the only place left you can get anything reasonable.” Mr. Somers was in no doubt as to where he would turn to find the odd part — eBay.
Still he was sorry to see the end of a tradition. “Harv has been around forever,” Mr. Somers mused.
One person who said he goes back a ways with Mr. Cleveland was David Picken of Waterloo, Quebec. These days Mr. Picken sells new farm equipment, but he sold used tractors when he first met Mr. Cleveland, who was still doing business “up on the hill in Glover,” He used to buy truckloads of used equipment from Mr. Picken and ferry it down to Vermont.
“He had an old International, and any way he could get them on he’d get them on there,” Mr. Picken recalled. “He put in some long days.”
Mr. Picken’s son is old enough to be in business with his father, and he goes back a ways with Mr. Cleveland, too.
“My kids both know him as Big Red,” Mr. Picken said. “He used to have a red beard — it turned white for some reason.”
Mr. Picken said he’ll miss stopping in at Cleveland Equipment to talk with his friend. “I’ll have to stop by his house,” he said.
Mr. Cleveland has been a good friend, he said. “If he saw where he could help you, he’d help you.”
Mr. Picken said that he understands why Mr. Cleveland would want to get out of the business and have some time to himself, but said it’s hard to see the business close.
“I had a hard time talking to him yesterday, it was more me than him,” Mr. Picken said. Mr. Cleveland, he said, doesn’t have many second thoughts about his decision. “He said you can’t look forward and in the back mirror at the same time.”
While Mr. Picken was telling about his friend, the sale went on. The tire rims went quickly. A very pleased man told a friend that he had gotten just what he needed — a single rim.
The sale moved around to the front of the lot, where mowers, buckets, chains, and other equipment were lined up. Toby Lussier climbed into a booth built into the back of a truck and pumped his spiel out to the buyers through speakers mounted on its side.
Many of the people who were not directly interested in the items up for sale at any particular moment spent some time looking over a pair of tractors, one a Massey-Ferguson, the other a big orange Allis-Chalmers. Each of the machines sported a first-place trophy, and everybody knew these were Mr. Cleveland’s competition machines.
Mr. Cleveland was a well-known figure at the Orleans County fairgrounds for years before his recent rise to the presidency of the Orleans County Fair Association. Mr. Nygren said Mr. Cleveland has run the weighing house at the fair for years and has a deep knowledge of the rules of tractor pulling.
He said that Mr. Cleveland is well known for sharing his expertise with newcomers to the sport.
Gary Leet cast a skeptical eye on the tractors Mr. Cleveland had put up for sale. He said he’s a John Deere man, and recalled beating Mr. Cleveland
Gary Leet, whose John Deere cap accurately reflects his loyalties, casts a skeptical eye on one of the competition tractors Harvey Cleveland put up for bid Saturday. At right Reg Lussier kept an eye out for bidders, but there was no offer that met Mr. Cleveland’s reserve price. Mr. Leet opined that Mr. Cleveland would have done better if he’d painted it John Deere green.
in a pull in Bradford one year.
He and his daughter were putting together an album of photographs for Mr. Cleveland, many of a subversive nature. For instance Mr. Leet held his John Deere cap over the initials of Massey-Ferguson printed on the back plate of Mr. Cleveland’s tractor, leaving only the words “A matter of pride” in view.
Mr. Leet said he had been the victim of a similar practical joke, which he suspects — despite his denials — was perpetrated by Mr. Cleveland.
After a trip to Montana, Mr. Leet began wearing a big black slouch hat to tractor pulls. One day, he said, a poster appeared at the P&H truck stop, near Mr. Leet’s home in Wells River. Over a picture of Mr. Leet was the question — “Do real cowboys ride Deere?”
Mr. Leet’s daughter told another story. After her father suffered a stroke a few years ago, Mr. Cleveland showed up in Wells River with a truck and trailer. He loaded Mr. Leet’s tractor up and drove him and the tractor the hour and a quarter to Roaring Brook Park. There he set the weights for the tractor and, after Mr. Leet finished competing, drove him back down to Wells River.
“That goes to show the kind of person he is,” Ms. Leet said.
As the auctioneer’s truck pulled up in front of Mr. Cleveland’s competition tractors, there was an air of expectancy in the crowd. It seemed that everyone had heard that Mr. Cleveland had put a reserve price on two rigs.
A man climbed into the seat of the Massey-Ferguson and fired it up. Smoke filled the air, it made a satisfying rumble, and Reg Lussier tried to gin up some excitement by loudly announcing that these tractors had won Mr. Cleveland a lot of trophies and money.
Toby Lussier laughed at that. “A lot of trophies, maybe,” he said, “but not a lot of money.”
He tried to start the bidding in the five figure range, but there were no takers. Even with Mr. Lussier exerting his persuasive powers to the maximum, he could only get up to $5,500, far below Mr. Cleveland’s selling price.
Mr. Cleveland himself emerged from the cab of the auctioneer’s truck to show off the big Allis-Chalmers. Sitting like an emperor on his throne he started up the engine, blowing the tin can that covered its stack high into the air.
He revved the tractor several times, blowing satisfying columns of black smoke into the air before dismounting and returning to the truck.
Richard Somers looks over an old saw he built almost thirty years ago. He said he sold it in 1995 for $100. On Saturday it cost him $350 to buy it back.
Even with that display, Mr. Lussier was only able to pry a bid of $11,000 out of a crowd that was clearly of a practical disposition.
“That’s a lot of money for a toy,” one man muttered.
Mr. Leet had his own opinion. “He should have painted them green,” he said.
Mr. Cleveland said that he would run the tractors at the fair again this year, and he didn’t seem too upset about the prospect.
Gradually the crowd moved down the line, bidding on the equipment as the rain started up again.
Mr. Somers waited patiently near his buzz saw. When the bidding was done he had repurchased it for $350, three and a half times the price he got for it 15 years ago.
On Monday Mr. Cleveland was over at the fairgrounds supervising some work at the stage. About the auction he said, “It could have been better, it could have been worse.”
About his years at Cleveland Equipment he smiled and said, “We met a lot of really nice people.”
