The Lever, the Ladle, and the Line

 

The Lever, the Ladle, and the Line

 Announcing Iron Boots and Broken Gears: The Legend of John Holt

 by John Spencer

Every trade leaves a residual folklore in its wake, though much of it vanishes once the iron cools and the shift whistle blows for the last time. In the timber camps of the nineteenth century, working men invented Paul Bunyan to give physical proportion to an untamed wilderness that swallowed whole crews without a trace.

Along the rail beds, John Henry became the mythic measure of human endurance against the cold, unyielding steam drill. These figures were never crafted by literary scholars sitting in quiet studies; they were hammered out on furnace floors, around bunkhouse stoves, and across breakroom tables. They were necessary symbols, forged by working people to explain the crushing scale of their labor and the constant proximity of disaster.

Yet as American industry shifted from raw timber and hand-laid rails to the vast, roaring foundries of structural steel, the nature of our folklore transformed as well. The danger did not diminish, but the nature of the work required something beyond brute force. It demanded precision, physical foresight, and an intuitive mastery of mechanical law. It required a new kind of folk hero—one who did not merely fight the machine, but understood its inner workings so thoroughly that he could tame it when all else failed.

It is from this tradition that Iron Boots and Broken Gears: The Legend of John Holt emerges as a new legend in the old tradition.

Monroe Street Press is pleased to announce the official release of this new project as a complete, illustrated 30-page digital edition, available soon as a free downloadable PDF directly from our press website.

 

The Anatomy of an Industrial Legend

 

John Holt is not a character designed for grand theatrical drama, nor does he possess supernatural powers. He is an ordinary craftsman at the fictional Genesis Steel Works—a man clad in a scorched leather apron, thick boots, and safety goggles. He carries no magical weapons; his tools are a six-foot iron crowbar, an unyielding sense of geometry, and a mind that calculates torque and leverage in the space of a single breath.

The core incident of the legend rests on a single, catastrophic moment on the furnace floor. When a main crane cable snaps on a hundred-ton ladle of molten steel, suspending white-hot metal over a crowded shift, Holt does not flee. He steps into the breach, wedging his iron bar directly into the teeth of a jammed gear assembly. Taking the full, crushing weight of the ladle against his own frame, he locks the mechanism in place long enough for every worker on the floor to reach safety. He does not ask for praise, nor does he wait for a reward. He simply wipes the sweat from his forehead, returns to his bench, and continues grinding his tools before the shift ends.

From that singular act of courage and mechanical discipline, a persistent industrial superstition is born. To this day, when the wind rattles the corrugated iron of an old shop or a crane cable creaks under load, the older workers look up and remind the green hands: "Don't worry. Holt’s still holding the gear."

 

Crafting the Three-Part Edition

 

In compiling Iron Boots and Broken Gears, our goal at Monroe Street Press was to construct a volume that honors the multi-layered ways folk legends are handed down across generations. The 30-page edition is organized into three distinct parts, making it accessible to young readers while preserving the depth of the tradition:

 

 * Part I: The Man Who Held the Mighty Ladle — The core prose tall tale, written in clean, plain-spoken language suitable for young readers and family reading. It establishes the physical reality of the steel mill, the mechanical crisis, and Holt's calm reliance on mathematics and physical law over magic.

 * Part II: The Ballad of Iron Boots — A metric, rhyming industrial ballad designed to be read aloud or sung to the steady, heavy cadence of a factory clock. It captures the rhythm of the shop floor and reinforces the oral tradition that keeps such stories alive.

 * Part III: Brassfeather, Holt's Clockwork Bird — The secret history of Holt's workshop, detailing his creation of a clockwork brass owl that monitors machinery vibrations and warns of mechanical failure. This section connects Holt's physical strength to his inner life as a visionary engineer.

 

In addition to the narrative sections, the publication includes authentic line-art illustrations and an interactive coloring page depicting the critical moment at Genesis Steel Works, encouraging younger readers to engage directly with the visual and mechanical details of the story.

 

Why We Are Offering This Work Freely

 

By releasing Iron Boots and Broken Gears as an unencumbered, high-quality 30-page PDF download, we hope to place this story directly into the hands of parents, educators, young readers, and lovers of industrial lore. Whether read aloud at bedtime, studied in a classroom lesson on simple machines and leverage, or kept on a tablet for quiet reading, John Holt’s story stands as a testament to craftsmanship, quiet responsibility, and human endurance.

 

Visit monroestpress.com later this week to access your free PDF copy of Iron Boots and Broken Gears.

A recap of the Old Roads Tour

Now that the Old Roads Tour has wrapped up, Monroe St Press is focusing on our next projects and exploring some ideas for the future.... first a recap of our later tour stops.

Toulon

The Old Roads Tour came to West Main Coffee and Books in Toulon, Illinois, on June 6.  John had the opportunity to read excerpts from Last Ride On the Galena Coach Road and Other Tales and from Iron & Ashes: An Epic Poem in the Homeric Tongue in Three Acts.  We had very engaging conversations about writing, small town life and many other topics with our host, Payton Schott (left) and guests, including Mary (center), who purchased a copy of Last Ride. 

 

 Princeville

On June 20 we visited The Vine Coffeehouse and Bakery in Princeville, Illinois. Since this is John's hometown, this was an especially meaningful event. Those who came shared stories, memories, laughter, and a few readings from Last Ride, Iron & Ashes, and recent essays.

One of the great joys of the day was reconnecting with old classmates, welcoming one of John's brothers into the gathering, and discovering once again how deeply the places of our youth continue to shape us. We also stayed in the nearby village of Monica and won half a hog as a raffle prize! 

Days like this remind us that books are more than pages—they are bridges back to people, places, and moments that still matter.

Bradford

Our next stop was at the Bradford Public Library in Bradford, Illinois on July 9. This event was one of those those reminders that success isn't always measured by the size of the crowd. Wonderful people joined us, and together we spent a delightful afternoon talking about old roads, local history, storytelling, and the places that shape our lives. The conversations were thoughtful, lively, and exactly the sort of exchange an author hopes for.

We were also made to feel incredibly welcome by the library staff, including library director Sarah Boehm (right) and her assistant Kate (left) who greeted us with such kindness and hospitality. They had refreshments waiting for everyone, creating an atmosphere that felt more like gathering with old friends than attending a formal event. Libraries like Bradford's are true community treasures, keeping alive our shared love of books, history, and conversation.

 

We also visited libraries, bookstores, and businesses in Henry, Princeton, Ohio, Dixon, Sterling, Rock Falls, and Walnut, and stayed overnight at the Hungry World Farm (formerly Plow Creek) near Tiskilwa. Along the way we met welcoming folks, sampled great food, discovered fascinating aspects of local history, and enjoyed the natural beauty of the Bureau Valley region. 

 

Thank you to everyone who came, listened, asked questions, and shared their own stories. Those conversations are every bit as memorable as signing books. We left Bradford grateful for your warm welcome and looking forward to the next stop down the road.

Walnut 

Our final book signing stop was at Avanti Foods in Walnut, Illinois, on July 31. Many people from the area remember this venue as a cheese factory that hosted tours and field trips. Although the facility no longer produces its own cheese, it is still a well known destination and our host (Jeri Zueger) and visitors shared their memories and history of the area. 

Our trip also included stops in Rock Falls, Sterling, and Wyanet, which have their own historic and cultural points of interest, local landmarks and celebrations, some of which are noted in the collage at the end of this post. 

 

 

The Rail Splitter

There was also another unexpected stop along the way -- The Rail Splitter tavern and restaurant in Mossville, Illinois. We stopped here on three separate occasions during the Old Roads Tour, not for a book signing but to take a break from traveling in heavy rain. 

On our last stop, drying off over coffee, we laughingly explained the three stops to our server, Tara, and enjoyed a warm chat over John's memories of the place.

 

When we got home, John did a little historical research on the location. As it turns out that exact location at 10307 N. State St. in Mossville has a long history of feeding and providing shelter to weary travelers along the Galena Trail & Coach Road stretching back nearly 200 years!

 

In honor of The Rail Splitter and its Old Galena Trail heritage, John wrote the poem below and put together this keepsake memento from photos to capture the moment.

 

Thanks to every venue that welcomed us, every reader who took home a book, and friends and family who encouraged us along the way. 

 

The Old Roads Tour may be over, but there are still plenty of stories and roads waiting to be explored just around the bend. 

 

Meet you again soon down the road.....

Bringing an American Epic Home

Why did Monroe St. Press choose to publish a new edition of Stephen Vincent Benét's John Brown's Body? 

When Monroe St. Press began publishing, our goal was never simply to produce books. It was to preserve voices, stories, and ideas that deserve another moment in the light.

John Brown's Body is one of those works. First published in 1928 and awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry, Benét's sweeping narrative poem examines the American Civil War not only as a conflict between armies, but as a defining moment in the life of a nation. Through its many voices—soldiers, families, dreamers, and ordinary citizens—it captures something larger than history alone. It captures memory.

At Monroe St. Press, we believe those conversations remain important. The questions raised by Benét's epic are not confined to the 19th Century. They continue to ask us who we are, what we remember, and how the stories of everyday people become part of the larger American story.

This edition of John Brown's Body represents more than a reprint. It represents a conversation between past and present. It stands alongside contemporary works exploring the American experience, including John Spencer's forthcoming Iron & Ashes, a lyric novelette rooted in the landscapes, labor, and forgotten places of the Midwest.

From Civil War battlefields to abandoned roads and small-town communities, the American epic continues to evolve. It is found not only in moments of national crisis, but also in the quiet perseverance of ordinary lives.

The epics of the past also deserve to be presented in new editions that can be read, handled and shared just like contemporary paperbacks and hardbacks, instead of merely being preserved on a shelf. This is why we have taken the time to format this book, as well as our other titles, in a size and style designed for easy reading while still preserving the text as originally written.

That is why Monroe St. Press is proud to share this edition of John Brown's Body with readers today—because the stories that shape us do not disappear. They wait to be remembered. 

Why We Still Need the American Epic: From John Brown to the Scrap Yard

The American epic has never looked much like Homer's. 

It has seldom been about kings, rarely about emperors, and almost never about palaces.

Our epics are built beside rivers, railroads, wheat fields, factory whistles, and dirt roads. They are carried by soldiers, blacksmiths, widows, farmers, preachers, immigrants, mechanics, and ordinary people who discover that history has quietly asked something extraordinary of them. 

That is why Stephen Vincent Benét's poem John Brown's Body still matters, nearly a century after its publication. And it is why John Spencer found himself writing Iron & Ashes. 

These two works occupy different centuries. Benét, writing in the early 20th century, stood amid the 19th century Civil War. Spencer, writing in the 21st century, stands beside an aging scrap dealer still plying his trade in the late 20th century on old U.S. Route 40 in Illinois. Yet both are asking remarkably similar questions. 

What becomes of a nation after the noise of history has faded? What remains once the speeches have ended? Who remembers?

Benét answered by gathering the voices of America itself, allowing generals and laborers, abolitionists and slaves, soldiers and statesmen, mothers and children to speak in one vast chorus.  His was not merely a poem about war. It was a poem about the making—and breaking—of a people, and their re-formation into a new kind of nation. 

Iron & Ashes begins where another kind of struggle quietly unfolds. Its battlefield is not Shiloh, Antietam or Gettysburg; it is the scrapyard.  There, iron becomes memory, and rust becomes inheritance. A forgotten bearing or broken plowshare becomes evidence that ordinary labor once held communities together. 

The epic has simply changed its clothing. Where Homer sang of bronze shields, we inherit welding torches. Where Benét heard marching armies, we hear the steady rumble of diesel trucks crossing the Illinois prairie. 

Yet the questions remain the same: Who are we? What have we inherited? What are we willing to carry forward? 

Perhaps every generation must write its own epic—not because history changes, but because memory fades. 

The old roads disappear beneath interstate highways. Family farms become subdivisions. Rail depots become antique malls. Even the objects themselves vanish into the furnace. 

Someone must remember before the last traces are melted away. 

That, I believe, is the work of literature. Not merely to entertain or even to preserve facts, but to recover meaning from the ordinary. 

To look at a weathered wrench, an abandoned forge, a forgotten crossroads, or an old soldier's silence and recognize that these, too, belong within America's great story. 

The epic has never died. It simply moved from the battlefield to the back roads. 

And perhaps that is where it has always belonged.

About This Essay 

This essay also serves as the basis for a Monroe St. Press lecture and discussion program presented to libraries, historical societies, museums, civic organizations, and book clubs. The program explores the American epic tradition through the lens of Stephen Vincent Benet's John Brown's Body, John Spencer's Iron & Ashes, and the enduring relationship between literature, history, and place. 

For speaking engagements or program information, please contact Monroe St. Press via email at elaine@monroestpress.com

Coming soon: John Brown's Body by Stephen Vincent Benet

 

 

A work that Monroe St. Press will soon be adding to its lineup of classic literary reprints is the epic poem John Brown's Body by Stephen Vincent Benet, published in 1928.

This book-length epic poem, which received the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1929, recounts the history of the American Civil War in a way that official records, personal memoirs, historical treatises and textbooks cannot capture. 

Beginning with the 1859 raid on Harpers Ferry by abolitionist John Brown, and ending with the surrender of the Confederates at Appomattox and the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, John Brown's Body describes in Homeric-style verse the lives of major historical figures, ordinary soldiers, civilians and enslaved persons caught up in a war that defined the United States as a singular nation.

Here is how Benet describes the titular character, awaiting execution after the failed raid:

Sometimes there comes a crack in Time itself.
Sometimes the earth is torn by something blind.
Sometimes an image that has stood so long
It seems implanted as the polar star
Is moved against an unfathomed force
That suddenly will not have it any more....
                            And when it moves
It will employ a hard and actual stone
To batter into bits an actual wall
And change the actual scheme of things.
                                       John Brown
Was such a stone--unreasoning as the stone,
Destructive as the stone, and, if you like,
Heroic and devoted as such a stone.
He had no gift for life, no gift to bring
Life but his body and a cutting edge,
But he knew how to die.
                       And yardstick law
Gave him six weeks to burn that hoarded knowledge
In one swift fire whose sparks fell like live coals
On every State in the Union.

Benet introduces Abraham Lincoln in this manner: 

Lincoln, six feet one in his stocking feet,
The lank man, knotty and tough as a hickory rail,
Whose hands were always too big for white-kid gloves,
Whose wit was a coonskin sack of dry, tall tales,
Whose weathered face was homely as a plowed field--
Abraham Lincoln, who padded up and down
The sacred White House in nightshirt and carpet-slippers,
And yet could strike young hero-worshipping Hay
As dignified past any neat, balanced, fine
Plutarchan sentences carved in a Latin bronze;
The low clown out of the prairies, the ape-buffoon,
The small-town lawyer, the crude small-time politician,
State-character but comparative failure at forty
In spite of ambition enough for twenty Caesars,
Honesty rare as a man without self-pity,
Kindness as large and plain as a prairie wind,
And a self-confidence like an iron bar....

John Brown's Body established Benet, born in Pennsylvania in 1898, as a promising 20th-century American author. He was also known for his short story "The Devil and Daniel Webster" (1936), which he adapted as a stage play, an opera and a film screenplay. At the time of his death in 1943, Benet was working on another narrative poem, Western Star, recounting the settlement of the United States; this work, although unfinished, received a posthumous Pulitzer Prize in 1944.

Fellow poet Leonard Bacon, in a tribute to Benet after his death, described John Brown's Body thus: 

"Histories of the Civil War we have had ad nauseam. And they are no 'jewels five words long' either! But John Brown's Body is nearer than history is apt to get to that veracity which is beyond time.... A hundred passages in John Brown's Body light up the surface of events, dulled by the ceaseless wash of uninspired repetition, as ultraviolet light brings out unfamiliar flame from a weathered quartz pebble... John Brown, Lincoln, Lee, Stonewall Jackson, Grant each speaks in his proper idiom. Touched by the magic hand of chance they become living men, and no longer steel engravings static in half-forgotten histories." 

The Old Roads Tour stops along Route 66

On Saturday, May 16, the Old Roads Tour stopped in Atlanta, Illinois, for a signing event at the Atlanta Public Library. We thank the staff and administration for hosting us at their historic Library, which is just one of several notable landmarks in this community of more than 1,600 residents.

 

 

The octagonal-shaped public library was constructed in 1908 and the clock tower was added to the grounds in the 1970s. It is on the National Register of Historic Places and has retained most of its original character. Two reading rooms, one of which includes a fireplace, provide inviting retreats for bibliophiles or anyone who would enjoy the ambiance of an Edwardian Era study.

Author John Spencer, pictured with library staffers Darcy McKown (left) and Cindy New (right), brought copies of Last Ride On The Galena Coach Road and Other Tales, along with some of the Surge novels and other titles from Monroe St. Press.

 

 

 

 Atlanta has taken full advantage of its location along the former U.S. Route 66, 11 miles northeast of Lincoln, Illinois and 21 miles southwest of Bloomington, to promote its businesses and other attractions. 

 

 

 

The American Giants Museum, housed in a former Texaco gas station, features towering fiberglass figures originally used to market automotive products. Some such as the Texaco Big Friend and Phillips 66 Cowboy (right) have retained their original appearance, while others such as the Hot Dog Muffler Man, the Carpet Viking (center) and the Snerd (left) were converted to other uses. There's also an original Bob's Big Boy statue and a display devoted to other creations of the International Fiberglass Company such as Uniroyal Gals, A & W Root Beer Families and Esso Tigers. 

 

 

Meanwhile, the J. H. Hawes Grain Elevator Museum consists of a fully restored 1904 grain elevator, engine shed, and scale house with a hand-operated rope pulley and 7 flights of twisting stairs from the ground floor to the top. It also is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. 

 

Atlanta's downtown includes the Atlanta Museum, the Route 66 Memories Museum, the Route 66 Arcade Museum, vintage-style murals, and shops such as the Arch Street Artisans and Artful Market. For updates on local attractions and events, visit the City of Atlanta, IL website or the Logan County Tourism Bureau website. 

 

Whatever brings you to Atlanta, they'll be sure to welcome you with a smile!

 

 

 

Iron & Ashes: A Measure Set in Steel

Coming soon from Monroe St. Press and John Spencer, author of the Surge Series and Last Ride On The Galena Coach Road and Other Tales:

  Iron & Ashes, a literary cycle—part epic poem, part lyric narrative, part stage play, part novel—set in late 20th century Illinois, where progress presses against memory, and shortcuts threaten to erase what still holds. 

Some roads aren't remembered. They're measured. 

Along a worn stretch of U.S. 40 near Effingham, Illinois, in the late 1970s, a scrapyard sits just off the road—ordered with a precision that borders on reverence. Nothing there is accidental. Nothing is wasted. Every piece of metal, every tool, every remnant of industry is placed, accounted for. 

The man who keeps it that way is Silas Vance. He is not a dreamer. Not a man given to abstractions. 

He is a builder. An octogenarian engineer. 

A man who has seen the great works of the world—canals cut through continents, steel raised into skylines—and who has chosen, deliberately, to step away from wealth and status into something quieter... but no less exacting. 

And yet—he is not alone. There is a presence in that yard. A witness. 

Arthur. A son who never came home from the Second World War.    

In Iron & Ashes by John Spencer, the past does not fade. It watches. It measures.

As Effingham begins to grow—pushed by the same restless force that has always driven expansion along the old roads—pressure mounts. Land is wanted. Deals are made. Corners are cut. Lines are bent. 

But some men do not bend. 

And some places do not yield without being measured first. 

In Iron & Ashes, Spencer utilizes the plumb bob as a central metaphor, representing Silas Vance's unbending moral compass. It symbolizes the conflict between individual craftsmanship and the destructive fires of progress. A Scriptural image, used by Old Testament prophets to call attention to ancient Israel's departure from the straight and true. 

 As an engineer of the old school, Vance uses his literal and metaphorical plumb line to expose crooked shortcuts, legal loopholes, and ethical compromises, and forces the town to look at what they are losing in the name of progress. 

  However, this is not a story about resisting change. It is about judging it. About whether what is built stands true... or comes up crooked. 

 Setting Iron & Ashes along U.S. 40 is also significant. Originally, this was the National Road, commissioned by Thomas Jefferson in 1806 as the first federally funded highway. It carved through the wilderness to open Illinois to pioneer settlement. Effingham grew out of the dirt along this original trail.

With the explosion of the automobile in the 20th century, it became U.S. Route 40, the "Main Street of America", lined with mom-and-pop gas stations, diners, and yards that served a traveling nation. 

 By the 1970s, however, it had been superseded by Interstate 70, which bypassed local businesses. Towns began to decline and developers stepped in to clear out the old landscape for corporate expansion, and this is the historical turning point that inspires the conflict in Iron & Ashes. 

This story, like John Spencer's other stories, demands that the reader stop and look vertically, by the steady weight of the plumb line. From the perilous freedom trails of the antebellum Surge Series, to walking the restless paths of the Galena Coach Road, or standing with Silas Vance amidst the iron and ancestral ashes of an Effingham scrapyard, the lesson remains the same. 

The road runs through it all. 

And it keeps its own account. 

Iron & Ashes—Coming Summer 2026.