We sat together in a local restaurant, reminiscing, laughing, and interrupting one another’s story with our own. September 3, 1975, was a historic day for all three of us—Bishop A. D. Beacham, Kathy Larsen, and I—though for different reasons and from different perspectives.
Kathy’s involvement in the event seemed much more dramatic than ours. She was there when a helicopter lifted the world and began its flight across town to its designated resting place. In fact, Kathy had witnessed its fabrication from being a vision to its completion.
On the other end of the process, Bishop Beacham’s father, the Reverend A. D. Beacham, along with most of the Headquarters’ staff, stood in the grass and watched as the massive globe arrived at the entrance to the newly-renovated Pentecostal Holiness Executive Offices in Bethany, Oklahoma. I will never forget seeing the world being lowered into its permanent home west of the gate.
“I love telling the story of the globe from my family’s perspective,” says Kathy Larsen. “The timing was what I call a ‘God thing’ in so many ways, from the day Mr. Bill Mash contacted my father with an idea, until its idea’s realization and transport to its ultimate destination.”
Kathy’s dad, G.R. “Jeff” Shilling, Jr., a second-generation blacksmith by trade, owned and managed Atlas Iron Works. He was the creator, designer, and overseer—the BOSS. The men in the shop did the actual fabrication on most of the orders, and Kathy’s job included clerical duties, which involved ordering materials and locating and procuring means for transporting the finished projects, some of which were impressively large but none as extraordinary as the sculpture in question.
Mr. Bill Mash, a local contractor and member of the Muse Memorial Pentecostal Holiness Church, located near Atlas Iron Works, approached Mr. Shilling one day with a question: “Can you construct a metal globe?” he asked. “I would like for it to be grander than the largest one known at this time, which is located in California.”
“Dad loved a challenge,” admits Kathy. That fact was event in the company’s slogan: “Particular Iron for Particular People.”
Jeff Shilling, an artist with iron as his medium, was known to procrastinate at times (a common trait of many creative individuals). So, sometime after his initial conversation with her dad, Mr. Mash contacted Kathy. He expressed his desire for Atlas to do the job, but, being on a tight deadline and working with a specific budget, he was anxious to receive a bid. He needed the project to move forward to completion before Dedication Day of the property, which was scheduled for October 24, 1975. After some tough “father-daughter” discussion (as Kathy describes it), she found the information on her desk the next morning and, soon, a reasonable bid was in Mr. Mash’s hands.
Though Atlas Iron Works had accepted the job, the world’s construction offered several challenges. First, it came at a time when the Shillings family was facing some internal struggles. “Yet, we were always grateful for every job-related opportunity,” says Kathy. “However, this one was unique. It presented several issues for consideration. Along with the creativity required in producing such a massive sculpture, questions arose with regard to its overall design, fabrication, and the availability of the precise materials needed for the job.” Even so, God provided the means at every level.
As the project neared completion, another issue arose: how to transport the globe across town to the PH Headquarters. Since Mr. Shilling was scheduled to be out of town at the time, he gave Kathy information that helped her determine how best to proceed. Because of its size, moving the structure over neither land nor water was an option. It had to be flown. But how?
Kathy began the search but every possibility in Oklahoma–from private entities to military—was unable to assist in the transport. Then, a business friend mentioned a company in Missouri—St. Louis Helicopter Airways. He thought they might be a resource. Kathy wasted no time. She contacted them immediately. Not only were they able to fly but they “just happened” to have a chopper available on the exact day and at the specific time they were needed. “God does provide!” exclaimed Kathy.
The next morning, which was the day before they were to transport, St. Louis Helicopter Airways called Atlas, inquiring about the weight of the globe. “To answer their questions, we brought in a crane scale to weigh the globe,” says Kathy. “It registered a whopping 5200 pounds, with a diameter of 24 feet, which was within only a few pounds of our calculations. I called St. Louis, and they said it weighed several hundred pounds too much.”
Considering the weight of the piece, the Atlas crew was faced with yet another challenge: if parts were removed, the braces from the center axis might collapse the globe. There was only one way to find out. That evening, the shop foreman and Kathy cut the braces extending from the axis. “We removed the center axis,” explains Kathy, “That gave an acceptable less than an inch change in diameter. We were good for the morning flight!”
When the helicopter arrived, a crowd had gathered to witness the “world’s lifting.” As they watched from a safe distance, the helicopter pilot tried twice but could not get a lift. So, the shop crew and volunteers rolled the sphere over the parking lot to a vacant lot across the road. At first try from there, the helicopter rose, veered south to follow the railroad tracks, then turned west to the river to cross over Lake Overholser. Then, it made a wide U-turn by flying east over Wiley Post Airport then straight south to the world’s new home.
Being an astute business woman, Kathy’s mother, Ruth, remained in the office that day to answer the phone. As she waited, she wrote a letter and titled it, “The Day the World Moved!” That piece, along with pictures of the transaction, found its way into several publications, including the Pentecostal Holiness Advocate.
As Kathy returned to the office, her mother handed her the phone. A caller from St. Louis Helicopter was on the line. “We need to reschedule the lift,” he explained. “Considering the weight of the sculpture and the atmospheric conditions today, it would be ‘humanly impossible’ to move it at this time.”
Kathy informed the caller that they had provided the means but God had already moved the world safely to its destination. “God was totally in the lead for the move of the ‘world’ in more ways than any of us knew. He planted an idea then provided the creativity, knowledge, and means every step of the way.”
Each year at the National Ornamental Metal Manufacturers Association, manufacturers are allowed to enter photographs of jobs they feel are worthy of recognition by their peers. Atlas Iron Works entered the “world,” along with two other projects—a Dallas church and a Las Vegas Hilton remodel. Each won first place in their category. The world, however, was awarded the Top Job of overall entries.
That was then and this now, more than 50 years after the fact, and my memory bank seems to be a bit “low on funds.” However, I do remember September 3, 1975, as being an historical day. The Headquarters building was abuzz with anticipation as word spread for employees to gather at the entrance to the property for the arrival of something special. We stood there in the Oklahoma sunshine as a chopper appeared, bearing one of the most impressive sculptures in iron most of us had ever seen. After the globe was lowered into place, Bishop J. Floyd Williams, led in a prayer of thanksgiving and dedication, and we returned to our duties.
For the next 35 years, that beautiful sphere welcomed me to my place of service. Though I was actually employed by Advocate Press (which later became LifeSprings Resources) in Franklin Springs, Georgia, having an office in the IPHC Headquarters was truly a privilege and blessing. That place of hope became for me an outlet for ministry. And the globe still stands there today as a distinctive landmark and defining symbol of the vision and goals of the International Pentecostal Holiness Church to help lift a much larger world out of depravity by spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Yes, Kathy Larsen and I found common ground and it focused on a magnificent piece of art. She lived the story of the day the world was lifted, and I saw it arrive and have lived to help tell its story again in retrospect.
