Anthe Machine Works in Photos

Kara Uhl

Jun 2

A couple weeks ago, we received a call from Kathy Porter, daughter of Frank Joseph Anthe. Turns out Kathy is local, and she said she had a picture or two of her father. "Would we like to stop by to see them?" she asked.

Someday I'd love to share my day with Kathy, which was unexpected and so fun. But for now, I want to share these incredible photos, which were over and beyond what I expected.

Above is Kathy's father, Frank Joseph Anthe, who was born 1901. Everyone in the family and various newspaper clippings say Frank Joseph Anthe took over Anthe Machine Works when was 15-years-old, when his father, Frank D. Anthe, died.

Frank D. Anthe died in 1919, so we assumed his son, Frank Joseph Anthe, took over, perhaps, a few years prior to his father's death. According to a genealogist Kathy hired in the 1990s, Frank D. Anthe died "of a form of Bright's Disease, caused by working with iron or lead". Historically, "Bright's disease" was used to classify a type of kidney disease, what we now call nephritis.

This genealogy report also included a copy of Frank D. Anthe's will, written in 1918. In it, he wrote that he wished to give his business, located at 407 Madison Ave., Covington, Kentucky, to his children, and that he wished for his son to continue to operate it as the same. However, he also acknowledged that while he trusted his son to be "thoroughly competent" as he grew older, until his son was 21, he wished for the finances to be handled by executors and trustees, who were instructed, in the meantime, to compensate Frank Joseph Anthe for his work.

So in this picture (which we colorized), we have a teenager or possible early 20-something, whose father had died in 1919, and whose mother had died in 1914, tasked with keeping Anthe Machine Works up and running, the employees who worked there employed and his father's legacy alive. And he did. Kathy says she remembers her father saying how kind and helpful many locals in the business community were as he transitioned from not just keeping the machines up and running, but also keeping the financials on track, too.

Here are two more early looks at the interior of Anthe Machine Works and its employees. These photos are undated, but Kathy's dad is the one in the three-piece suit. She said he wore a three-piece to work every day.

Here's a great shot of the front of Anthe Machine Works, which we also colorized. Again, undated.

Here we have two professionally taken photos that Kathy found tucked in an Anthe Machine Works catalog. One is a sampling of wood cutters made by Anthe and the other is a shot of longtime employee Vic, Kathy said.

"What's Vic's last name?" I asked, thinking about past research I had done.

"Schraivogel," she said pronouncing the name emphatically. I gathered he was a longtime, loved employee.

And then I remembered – the 1975 obituary I found for Victor J. Schraivogel, 69, "a retired machinist for the Anthe Machine Works, Covington, where he was employed for 44 years," the one I mentioned here. And now, we have this beautiful photo of him!

Kathy says many of her father's employees worked at Anthe for years. He was a good dad, she said, so he probably was a good boss.

(And again, for more views of Anthe cutters and catalogs, check out this video, by Jason French, curator at Behringer-Crawford Museum.)

I'm throwing this photo in just because it's fun. In a 1980 brochure called "Take a Tankquilizer," there is an article titled, "CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! Went The Street Car OOGA! OOGA! OOGA! Went The Horn." The article says, "The operator of this #1 street car and some of the spectators on the side walk seem concerned. All but the driver of the car. He seems to have a good grip on the wheel and his sights set straight ahead. Any ideas of the place, time, and people involved? Submit information to TANK Marketing Department and receive your next ride on #1 or any other TANK route of your choice, 'FREE.'"

I have no additional information to share except that's the Anthe building in the background and the scene gives a wonderful sense of time and place, decades ago.