Sport: Elmer’s Brother

Husking an ear of corn consists of tearing off the husk in which it is wrapped, breaking it off its stalk, tossing it into a wagon. As a feat of skill, it is not difficult. Nevertheless, last week the spectacle of men husking corn drew a crowd of 160,000, second biggest ever gathered at a sporting spectacle in the U. S.,* to a remote 485-acre farm owned by Alva Oyler, 25 miles east of Columbus in Ohio’s Licking County. There, while the Oyler livestock mooed, crowed and grunted with amazement, 18 able cornhuskers husked for the U. S. husking championship.

The conception of cornhusking as a sport rather than a chore sprang from the fertile brain of Henry Agard Wallace. As editor of Wallace’s Farmer, President Roosevelt’s Secretary of Agriculture decided in 1924 that U. S. farmers needed an indigenous sport. First major corn-huskingcontest, for the championship of Iowa, was promoted by him and watched by 800 people. By 1928 the Wallace tournament had become the U. S.championship and National Broadcasting Co. thought it worth describing. By 1930 champion cornhuskers from nine Corn Belt States were entered and the crowd had swelled to 30,000. Since then corn-huskinghas been the fastest growing sporting spectacle in the world. Last year, at Newtown, Ind., 110,000 spectators were on hand when Elmer Carlson of Audubon, Iowa, set the incredible record of 41½ bushels in 80 minutes, through the fat rows of Leslie Mitchell’s farm.

Cornhusking crowds attend free. At Oyler’s farm last week, the huge army of spectators parked their cars in the fields, bought cider and fried chicken at outdoor stands, eyed exhibits of 1937 low-priced cars, clutched their wallets when warned about pickpockets, deplored the poor condition of the corn. Nine inches of snow had melted, making the field too muddy for high speed. The rows were “spotty.” When the starter’s bomb boomed, a few thousand spectators followed the buskers. Most stood still and listened to loudspeakers.

Husking championship rules are simple. Each contestant is assigned his “land”—a strip of eight rows of corn. Each land is separated from the next by an eight-row lane in which the stalks have been cut to make a road for the tractor-drawn husking-wagon. On the side of the wagon farthest from the husker is a “bang-board” against which the ears of corn are pitched, to bounce down to the floor of the wagon. Each husker husks two rows at a time. From the total weight of corn in his wagon, when the finish bomb sounds after 80 minutes, are subtracted three times the weight of his “gleanings” (ears left on the stalks or on the ground). A penalty is deducted also for excess husk left on the ears in the wagon.

Best “lands” on Oyler’s farm last week were those at the ends of the field chosen for the contest. Having drawn one of the middle lands, Minnesota’s Ted Balko, 1934 champion, was handicapped by rows so spotty that once he found only three ears in 15 feet, of which one was so small that it flew through a crack in his bang-board. Adam Byczynski, Illinois champion and a hot favorite, husked fast but carelessly. His creditable total of 1,630 lb. was cut down to 1,466 by penalties. Well short of the Byczynski gross but a shade ahead of his net was the score of a long-faced, 38-year-old Iowan who, dressed in tennis shoes, white duck pants and an undershirt, had husked his rows more slowly but with scrupulous care. He was Carl Carlson, brother of famed Elmer, who did not bother to defend his title this year. Carl Carlson’s gross of 1,540 lb. left him with a net of 1,472 lb. and the 1936 championship.

Ordinary farmers are pleased if they husk 100 bushels of corn in a ten-hour day. That Carl Carlson husked only 21 bushels in his 80 minutes last week was due to poor conditions rather than to technical inferiority to his famed younger brother Elmer. Closest thing in the U. S.to an efficient cornhusking machine are Carl, Elmer and two other Carlson brothers, who will be favorites in future cornhusking championships. Hauled onto a platform last week to get his $100 prize money, Carl Carlson was so excited that he mistook the loudspeaker microphone for a radio outlet. Said he to the 160,000 spectators at Oyler’s farm: “Hello everybody back there in Audubon County, I’m glad I could win. … I was going pretty strong and believe I could have even given my brother Elmer a good beating.”

*Biggest U. S. sporting crowd: 168,000 at the 1936 Memorial Day automobile race at Indianapolis.