By September 1946, the Farm Jeep was ready to compete with the 9N for returning soldiers’ money.  There was just one problem left for Sorensen to solve.  While the Jeep had an implement lift, it didn’t have implements to lift.  The returning soldier, turned farmer, could walk into a Ford Tractor showroom and see not only a tractor, but a full line of attachments, ready to go to work.  If he went down the street to the Willys dealer, he would see a Jeep with an implement lift, but no implements.  Sorensen turned to the same two men, George Newlin and Robert Green, whom he had tapped in 1944 to help him develop the civilian Jeep to solve the problem. Newlin would manage the business side of things. Robert Green would do the rest. 

The Mystery of Robert Green

History tends to favor the loud. Jabez Love left behind newspaper clippings, patent disputes, and public demonstrations. Charles Sorensen was chronicled by the Detroit press. Robert Green, however, exists in the margins. Search the archives of the mid-1940s, and you find a man who seemingly preferred the quiet life of Bowling Green, Ohio — his few appearances in local papers limited to professional promotions and the annual announcement that his home had, once again, won the local Christmas decorations award.

Yet this quiet suburbanite was the man Sorensen trusted to carry the Farm Jeep flame when everyone else moved on.

The Newgren Company

How did a young engineer from Bowling Green, Ohio, end up working for one of the most powerful figures in automotive history, Charles E. Sorensen? The connection is not obvious at first glance. A 1952 Willys promotion notice confirms that Robert Green had worked at Ford Motor Company from 1942 to 1944, prompting speculation that he may have crossed paths with Sorensen on the Ford 9N tractor program. That theory gains some credibility from Green’s later patent for a 9N lift device. Yet archival searches, including work at The Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation, turn up no evidence that Green was directly involved in the 9N project.

The real link appears to lie instead at Ford’s Willow Run plant, where Green worked in test-flight hydraulics during the war. Willow Run was Sorensen’s crowning achievement—a vast industrial experiment in mass production that brought together some of the best engineering talent in the country. While it is unlikely Sorensen knew Green personally among the tens of thousands employed there, he certainly knew the caliber of engineers the facility produced. When Sorensen arrived at Willys in 1944 and faced the challenge of equipping the Jeep with a competitive hydraulic implement system, it is easy to imagine him reaching back to Ford for talent. Green’s subsequent role at Willys—working under Barney Roos rather than directly for Sorensen—suggests he was brought in through such channels and quickly proved his worth. By the time Sorensen helped launch the Newgren partnership with George Newlin, he was confident enough in Green’s abilities to entrust him with shaping the Jeep’s agricultural future.

George Newlin was Sorensen’s manager of CESOR Farms for decades. He seems to have worked quietly in the background at Willys from his appointment until he joined Green to form Newgren. His contributions to the Newgren company seemed to be purely business. His role deserves more attention, and further research is needed. Newlin stayed with Newgren until the company left Toledo. We will return to Newlin in the next chapter.

Beginning in the fall of 1946, the public face of the Farm Jeep turned from Willys to Newgren.

The Newgren Era: From Lifts & Body Extensions to Monroe

By the time the Farm Jeep’s momentum from the introduction peaked, the original agricultural engineering architects were dispersing. Love had moved back to his businesses, and Roos had returned to core engineering. Robert Green was the one person left to navigate the transition from a niche prototype to mass production. Green’s first task was to fix the problem Love left behind.

The comparison between a 3-point-equipped Willys CJ-2A and a purpose-built tractor like the Ford 9N reveals a fundamental difference in design philosophy. The 9N was engineered from the outset as a tractor, built around the integrated Ferguson System, which tied together hydraulics, draft control, and chassis geometry into a single, unified system. Its rigid structure—lacking automotive-style suspension—meant the hitch maintained a constant relationship to the rear axle, allowing the tractor to automatically respond to changing soil conditions and maintain consistent implement depth. In contrast, the Jeep was a multi-purpose vehicle adapted for farm work. Its 3-point hitch and hydraulics were add-ons mounted on a frame that floated on leaf springs, preventing the stable, predictable feedback loop that effective draft control requires.

That spring-mounted Jeep frame, a point Green emphasized, proved especially problematic in the field. As a plow or other implement encountered resistance, the Jeep’s suspension absorbed and redistributed those forces, causing the rear of the vehicle to rise, squat, or oscillate. The hitch, attached to this moving frame, could not maintain a steady depth, resulting in uneven work and constant operator corrections. The 9N, by contrast, transferred those same forces directly into the rear axle, increasing traction and stabilizing the implement. Combined with better weight distribution, lower gearing for slow-speed work, and geometry designed to improve traction under load, the tractor became more effective as the work grew harder—while the Jeep, limited by its lighter weight, higher center of gravity, and spring suspension, became less stable and less efficient.

Green couldn’t fix the problem, but he would make the Jeep the best possible tractor it could be. Green’s 1946 efforts were focused on simplifying the manufacturing process for the lift. But as we will see later when Monroe enters the picture, he never gave up trying to make the Jeep a better tractor.

Green’s 1997 interview with historian Todd Paisley did reveal a very surprising statistic: only about 300 Newgren lifts were sold prior to 1947. That number seems low, given the number of lifts found. We also don’t know how many of the 300 lifts were of the original Love design. But Green seems to have been working on the other problem, the lack of implements, at the same time. The lift was designed to allow for the bed and tailgate to remain usable, meaning some implements, especially plows, need reengineering. But Newgren needed to put together a line of implements and get those products into dealers’ hands. And the dealers would need to be trained to demonstrate how to use those implements.

The best evidence we have of the implements and special equipment offered for the Jeep is found in a series of parts books and catalogs provided to dealers. These appear to have been produced and distributed annually by Willys throughout the Farm Jeep era. They had various titles, but started as “Willys-Overland Special Equipment Parts Book.” Later, in the 1950s, they would be called the “Jeep Special Equipment Catalog.”

The first thing to note is the disclaimer at the top of the page. Willys-Overland’s legal department made it clear that the Jeep was separate from any manufacturer of this equipment, including the hydraulic lift. Willys would later launch a “‘Jeep’ Approved” program for items that appeared in the books and catalogs. This program was developed to help ensure that the add-ons weren’t giving the Jeep a bad name for poor performance.

It isn’t clear which came first, Sorensen sending Newlin and Green off to form Newgren, or the W-O lawyers making sure the lift wouldn’t come back to bite them. In either case, Green would be involved in the testing of all this equipment.

The above image was taken from what was thought to be a 1947 equipment book. A quick glance reveals this to be incorrect. Under “Hydraulic Lifts,” we see Monroe Auto Equipment Company. As we shall see that lift was introduced in 1948. Regardless of the date, the page shows a variety of implements available for the Farm Jeep. Newgren didn’t manufacture these. Many were made using Green’s specifications and instructions. They carried a Newgren tag and model number. Note also that Jabez Love is still around, this time as an implement manufacturer.

Green’s 1997 interview with historian Todd Paisley revealed an interesting, if true, fact. He oversaw the production of Newgren’s first — and what would seem to be the most successful product: the body extension, which sold an impressive 20,000 units.

Green’s interview did reveal another surprising statistic: 20% of Willys dealers were agricultural implement dealers early on. That would have been a problem for the pre-war Willys car dealers, who didn’t have staff trained to sell farm equipment. Green was tasked with fixing this problem, too. According to a news article, Green authored a book on conducting farm demonstrations while at Newgren.

Green was a pragmatic engineer. While he preferred the Newgren lift for its frame-strengthening properties and its underbody design, he recognized the necessity of scale. When Monroe Auto Equipment took over the Newgren operation in 1948, Green didn’t fight it — he embraced it. He joined the Monroe engineers and earned a patent for his improvement to the lift’s operation.

Monroe’s takeover of the Farm Jeep saw major changes at the Newgren Company. George Newlin would leave the organization when it was moved to Butler, PA. Green would not leave his Bowling Green home but would remain to manage the small Newgren training staff left in Toledo. He was the last of the original Willys crew remaining.

Having spent years learning about the life of Robert Green, I’m still left wondering: who was this man?

I’ve tracked down his only living relatives, interviewed someone who knew him, and hired the local historical society to search for details of his life in the community he loved. The questions largely go unanswered.

We know nothing about Green’s early childhood or formal education. Whatever his training, he was a master hydraulic engineer, holding multiple patents. His position at Willow Run suggests formal engineering credentials, but we haven’t confirmed where or when he earned them. His only living relatives have been contacted — they have no information beyond what we’ve shared with them.

How Sorensen came to bring Green to Willys remains an educated guess. The Willow Run connection is the most plausible thread, but it has not been confirmed. That Green worked under Roos rather than directly for Sorensen suggests he was brought in at arm’s length and earned his way into Sorensen’s trust — but we don’t know who made the initial call.

The Newlin question is equally unresolved. Newlin is rarely mentioned in Newgren press items, yet he co-founded the company and remained with it until it left Toledo. In an interview with the son of the man who later purchased Green’s Bowling Green company, I was told Green wasn’t a very good businessman, which suggests Newlin may have carried that load. But we don’t know what their working relationship actually looked like, or what Newlin thought of the Monroe transition that ended his role.

And then there is the question of Green’s departure. He left Willys in 1955 — the same year the Farm Jeep program was effectively winding down. Was he pushed out? Did he leave voluntarily to return to Green Manufacturing, which had been running out of his home the entire time? Did he see what was coming and get out ahead of it? The record doesn’t say.

What we do know is that Green outlasted everyone else in the original Willys agricultural circle. What drove that loyalty — to a program that history has barely noticed — is perhaps the greatest mystery of all.

The Legacy of the Last Man Standing

This change from the Newgren lift to the Monroe lift marked the end of the “boutique” era of Jeep implements and the beginning of the mainstream Farm Jeep. Green would eventually oversee the evolution from low-production Newgren lifts to high-volume Monroe units, and, full circle, to the low-production Stratton units that followed. Robert Green never sought the limelight, but he was the glue that held the Newgren-Willys relationship together. He tested equipment on Sorensen’s personal farms and at Monroe’s test farms, ensuring the Farm Utility Vehicle wasn’t just a marketing gimmick but a tool that worked. As the 1940s drew to a close, Green remained the steward of the Farm Jeep’s promises — quietly ensuring that the Jeeps’ transition from battlefield to cornfield would be a permanent one.

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