Wonderfully Obsessed: Meet the Willy Wonka of John Deere Farm Toys

Toy land is a real place. Max Williams, the Willy Wonka of John Deere toys, is a farm boy eight decades removed from the addiction of his first cast iron tractor, and wonderfully obsessed.

By Chris Bennett

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February 23, 2021 08:01 AM

Toy land is a real place. Step into the green and yellow confines of a remodeled horse barn in a corner of Kansas, and marvel at a time capsule in the form of a veritable toy museum, stocked with almost 1,000 John Deere farm vehicles of every type, stripe and model. In rows, on shelves, behind glass—and nary a speck of dust—this is the realm of Max Williams, the Willy Wonka of John Deere farm toys. Williams, a farm boy eight decades removed from the addiction of his first cast iron tractor, is wonderfully obsessed.

In 1989, Williams began piecing together the foundation of a simple farm toy collection, and his curiosity quickly ramped into a hunt, and further exploded into an insatiable quest. There are many astounding farm toy stories across rural America, but there is only one with the unique flavor found in the collection housed at Williams’ magical playground.

Katy, Bar the Door

Born in 1938, on a wheat and soybean farm in the southeast pocket of Kansas, Williams was raised almost exclusively to the rumble of John Deere farm equipment—several tractors, a disc and a plow. The family farm and home, centered on 80 acres in Labette County, was a daily walk and a mere quarter mile from a one-room schoolhouse, where Williams spent eight years of elementary education split between two teachers, before switching to the county high school. Life was relatively simple, mainly divided between the schoolhouse and grain fields, and although finances were typically tight, the farm boy maintained a fleet of toy tractors, pushing the metal vehicles until the wheels rubbed to nubs in the dirt of the yard or wore off against hardwood floors.

Lured by financial prospects, Williams went urban following high school, taking a job with Boeing in Wichita. Plainly stated, Williams and the big city didn’t mix, and he next found employment in 1959 with Funk, a small manufacturing company in the relatively small town of Coffeyville. In 1989, Funk was bought by John Deere, and on the first day of the buyout, Williams, relishing his role as manufacturing manager for his new employer, went to a local John Deere dealership and bought a single 1/32 scale tractor. “It’s been, ‘Katy, bar the door,’ ever since,” he laughs. “Sometimes I look around at all the toys and ask myself, ‘My Lord, what have I done?’”

Floor to Ceiling

Out of the gate, Williams bought several more tractors as office decorations, not intending to accumulate significant numbers. Regardless of intention, the fires of childhood had been stoked, and as the past came roaring back, Williams dove headfirst into nostalgia.

Best laid plans. Williams’ initial idea to buy several farm toys as reminders of his past soon crashed to collecting reality. He began ordering by the case: “Working at John Deere, I could get toys at a good price, so I’d get’em in bulk, and keep one, and then sell the other four or six, depending. Tractors, implements, a full set of NASCAR vehicles, model airplanes—it didn’t matter as long as they were John Deere.”

Five toys became 10; 10 blossomed to 20; 20 expanded to 100; and storage became a major issue as the miniature machinery outgrew the office shelves. After retiring in 2001, Williams set about building a home for an ever-expanding toy army: “I found some companies going out of business and bought some display cases. I’d bought a good-size horse barn, and I tore out the stables and put in a concrete floor, and used a portion of it for my farm toys. Pretty soon I had six display cases packed full from floor to ceiling.”

At 800-plus pieces (100% John Deere), Williams stopped counting, and today’s total may be closer to 1,000 items, mixed between tractors, backhoes, combines, cultivators, grain buggies, grater blades, pickers, manure spreaders, spray tanks, trailers, trucks, cars, and airplanes. For the moment, shelf space is sparse, and Williams leaves new toys boxed. However, the oldest members of the group hold Williams’ heart: “I’ve got about 100 toys from the 1950s and 60s, and I’d say the old John Deere A’s and B’s are my favorites, because those are what I was raised on. I don’t have them refurbished—they’re just as is.”

“A Helluva Time”

Significantly, Williams also has a sizable collection of antique cars, license plates (including a complete set of first-year Kansas issues from 1913 to 2021), Ford memorabilia, and a restored 1949 John Deere A tractor.

Gary Fisher, 80, a close friend of Williams’ and frequent breakfast companion, describes Williams’ setup: “Basically, Max houses his things in two buildings and a small shed, and when you walk in, it takes your breath away because everything is immaculate and in perfect shape. It’s kind of like walking into a place with no time. It’s packed with stuff, but everything has its ordered, neat spot, and there’s things hanging from the ceiling, on shelves, behind glass, and then there has to be 1,000 license plates on the ceiling and walls, plus more John Deere and Ford stuff then you could ever, ever count. I mean, his kids are gonna have a helluva time figuring out what to do with all of it someday.”

“Max is the greatest guy,” Fisher adds, “and he just wants to recapture the past, and he doesn’t worry a bit about the value. He collects for the right reason—pure joy. He buys something, cleans it, and displays it. He cares.”

“Where I Love”

Are there any grail toys that Williams has yet to find? A piece to complete the collection? “No, I’ve found everything I want, but then again, I’ll keep adding on, and also whenever Deere comes out with a new toy, you can bet I’ll get it,” he explains.

A climb into Williams’ attic is testament to the array of items he has accumulated over several decades. Stacked in towers around the attic are the original boxes for most of his farm toys. Matching box with toy will be tricky task on the horizon, Williams says, while wearing a wry smile: “The fun part is knowing my kids will try to match each box with a toy when I pass on.”

Williams has no plans to slow down, and is an avid auction attendee with a healthy habit of making certain his is the last hand remaining in the air. “If there is a John Deere toy, I’m walking out with it. You better believe it.”

And what will happen to the massive collection, beyond Williams’ time? “I’ll pass it to my kids, and they can do what they want. Right now, these toys are a way for me to recapture my life on the farm. It was hard living, but I sure loved it and I’ll always miss it,” Williams concludes. “It’s not something I can put into the right words, but when I go out to my barn and walk in there with all my toys, I’m right back where I love—on the farm.”