Tuesday, May 14, 2019

Working on the St. Vincent Extension

Recently, I came across an online post by someone who mentioned that his grandfather had worked on the St. Vincent Extension line.  While the original line was finished in 1878, there were modifications to, as well as major maintenance of, thereafter.  It was a few years later, that his grandfather worked in our area.  I asked him if he had any stories or photographs of that time period, and he shared this with me...
This is my paternal grandparent's family -- Charles & Mary [Hendrickson] Torrin, Hilma the oldest, My father, Oscar in the back, with Maybelle behind Mary. The little girl in front, Luella, helps us date the picture; she was born in Roseau County, on the newly purchased farm, in 1901. She died of diphtheria in 1908, just weeks after her little sister was born. Charles was functionally blind from railroad work accidents, and was about 46 when he moved north and purchased the farm near Fox, between Badger and Roseau MN. 
St. Paul Daily Globe, November 29, 1893
My grandfather, Charles Torrin, was a line foreman laying track. In 1891, a sliver of steel flew up into his eye. A year later, he was back at work, and a similar event pierced his other eye, leaving him functionally blind. The family returned to Alexandria to recover. The event was noted in a St Paul paper at the time. 
The story only just begins here. After several years in Douglas county, at the age of 46 and blind, he bought a farm in Roseau Co, in 1901, and raised his family there until his death in 1929. 
His father, Oscar Torrin was born in St. Vincent in 1891 while his grandfather was working on the St. Vincent Extension.


Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Sociability Run: Jefferson Highway


[Note — General Manager McDougal of the Pershing Way [Association], who was for a short time Publicity Commissioner of the Jefferson Highway,  admits that he appropriated from the Jefferson many of the successful methods he is using on the Pershing. He also admits they are pretty good. 
We likewise are going to appropriate the story of his trip to Winnipeg, and in doing so likewise admit it is pretty good. That Manager [Herbert F.] McDougal has a microscopic eye, a retentive memory and a happy way of telling it is evidenced by what he saw and tells of his trip. 
Judging from his experience at the "Line", he should have borrowed the Jefferson's Rabbit Foot. 
Mr. McDougal's story will be read, with interest by the J. H. family, especially those who "made the trip" last July.  The following is an excerpt about the final leg of the run...]


AT Hallock the P. W. runs onto the Jefferson Highway marks and continues with them the rest of the way, going through Northcote, Humboldt, St. Vincent and Noyes to the International Boundary.

The Jefferson Highway touring group paused their sociability run in Emerson for "short" speeches and this group photograph...
Pro-lemonaders made another hit when Bronson was reached, where "most excellent lemonade was served" by the ladies. Decorations were mainly American and Canadian flags. Mayors Hodgson and Behrman spoke. The hotel menu at Hallock, a noon control, was a novelty, and uniquely distinctive over any other during the entire trip. Part of it was in French, and embraced dishes served especially in New Orleans. Banners and flags formed the principal decorative feature. Luncheon was served at the hotel and restaurants in the city. The Custom Houses of Noyes and Emerson were soon passed, owing to arrangements having been made beforehand. Short speeches were made by Governor Pleasant and Mayor Hodgson at Emerson.1
We had been sweeping along across the prairie, much of the time with no fences along the road, and came to a turn to the east along what, as memory recalls it, looked like the back side of a farm yard with perhaps an orchard bordered with forest trees in a sort of a scrubby growth. Straight ahead and eighty rods beyond was a dingy railroad station, and just before we reached it a turn to the right and north.

Before us loomed a signboard, high on stilts, announcing the "International Boundary," and there was a moment of bewilderment as we saw in one direction a road turning off to the station and in the other a pair of ruts curving around as entering the farm yard.

The original routing of the Jefferson Highway entered Canada directly from Noyes,
Minnesota into Emerson, Manitoba, Canada.   This is the approximate route the JH
followed. [Source:  Two Lane Traveler] NOTE:  The red line leading off 171 going
north was the 'Emerson Road' (dirt when I was growing up, now plowed under...)  
Over this seeming by-road was the remains of an arch1, placed there last July to welcome the Jefferson Highway tourists on their great sociability run, and the presence of the arch gave rise to the theory that this must be the entrance to the Dominion. Pursuing the tracks a bit further we were convinced that we really were on the highway into the neighboring nation, for at the side of the road was a glorified Keep Off the Grass Sign, bearing a solemn warning against going across the line without proper formalities.

The road took another turn and crossed a railroad track, which itself had crossed another track just previously. The one was the Soo, which ran along the margin of Canada, and the other was the Canadian Pacific, both heading for Winnipeg. All our pictures of an imposing entrance into Canada were dashed, as almost any country cross road is as pretentious. But still there was something picturesque about it and something that impressed itself upon the memory.

There are two railroad stations — one on the American side and one across in Canada, and at each immigration and customs officials, representing the two governments, are on guard. It looked as if it was a pretty simple thing, after all, getting into a foreign country, but it took just about an hour to do it, for a becapped official, swinging down the track to reach the switch tower and climb its dizzy steps to the bird-like house above, said that there was nothing to do but to report to the officials at the Emerson station, which took time and proved not to be the right thing, for we were first to go a mile or such a matter up town and be interviewed by the immigration official and get a card and then go across the street to where the Union Jack flew over the government building, and make our clearance at the customs office.

THE customs officials were polite, but inquisitive. They wanted to know how many in the party, what make of car, how many cylinders, its license number and factory number, whether it was equipped with windshield, top, speedometer and clock, and how much it cost, what baggage we carried and whether we had any camping equipment and how long we expected to tarry in Winnipeg.

Then a very nice old gentleman came down and rummaged through our suit cases in a formal and perfunctory way, withal rather thorough. But first there had come up the serious question as to the very typewriter on which this is being written. It is one of the folding sort and a constant companion. The G. M. would be lost without it, and the work of the organization would be hampered. It was rather important that it, too, make the trip into Winnipeg, for there would be the matter of correspondence and perhaps some magazine stuff.

But the officials were stern about it. They said that the wee machine was dutiable and that we had better put it in hock, so to speak, at the customs office to be picked up on our return, and to borrow a machine in Winnipeg. It looked as if the typewriter was to part company with the official car.

But the missus, waiting all this time down in the auto, said it didn't sound reasonable to her that a car and all that luggage could go in and a mere typewriter barred.

So we went back and argued that the typewriter was a tool of the trade and analogous to a monkey wrench in the tool box.

But these English are a fixed folk. They all had a look at the proposition, and turned it down; it wasn't regular. Then we offered to put up a cash bond, and finally succeeded in parting with $13 to that end, the money being in good American currency. Seeing the brand of money on deposit, a kind gentleman in the office suggested that we would be entitled to that sort back, as it was at a premium in Canada. So, on our return, we got $13.40 in Canadian currency, taking it across to the bank to be exchanged for American money. The rate of exchange had fluctuated during the walk across the street, however, and the bank demanded 50 cents instead of the 40 we had been paid.

And even at that we afterward discovered that we had a few Canadian bills in our script and had to give a discount on them.

BUT our troubles were not over yet. We discovered that our Canadian immigration permit, nor our clearance papers from the customs were sufficient; the becapped gentleman had deceived us. We had to go all the way back to the American side, to that little station of Noyes, to see a blue-eyed Irishman named Fahey in order to get a formidable document showing that Uncle Sam was willing to relinquish us for a few days.

That document had to be turned in to the Canadian customs officials, and then we were ready to go — all excepting the changing of a flat tire that had grown discouraged and depressed during all this formality. If we had known about the rest of that night that tire would have worried us.

But let us move on.

Over a bridge, combined wagon and railroad, under a viaduct we turned and then we were on the road to Winnipeg, sure enough. A little further and we were as good as in France, for, turning into a little village that proved to be Letellier, we grew uncertain of the way and stopped at a house to make inquiries if this were truly the way to Winnipeg.

The answer was "Oui, oui," which the doughboys all will recognize at once.

Turning just at the edge of that little village, which was mostly edge, we were at once in the old Hudson Bay Company's trail, a road 132 feet wide that goes in windings along the Red River of the North right into Winnipeg and becomes Main street, remaining 132 feet wide. That and Portage avenue, at right angles and of the same width, are boasted the widest streets in the world.

The boundary is sixty-eight miles from Winnipeg, and all the tedious details at Emerson, had taken time. It was 5 o'clock when we left Emerson, and that was Canadian time, the Canadians not having turned their watches ahead as the States had.

So we rather stepped forward a little on the gas, for there was a certain strangeness about the country that urged us to get along before dark covered the unknown roads. The trail at places was little more than sections of a fenced pasture, with ruts winding about between an endless row of telephone and telegraph poles. Winnipeg is paving out for miles and someday will have a concrete road to the border, no doubt, but nature still holds sway largely as yet there.

Jefferson Highway Sociability Run, NOLA to Winnipeg
L'Observateur (Reserve, Louisiana) · 28 Jun 1919
And we came into St. Jean Baptiste, a French town of 500 with only two English families in it. We sought to replenish our gas supply and pulled up at a garage and said "Five gallons." The tank filled up as we filled with astonishment. The answer was that we were getting British Imperial gallons, 277.274 cubic inches to the gallon, instead of our own United States gallons of 231 cubic inches. Five of our British cousin's gallons made six of our own, but we paid 40 cents for each and every gallon. 

They said in Winnipeg that American watches can be bought cheaper there than in the states, the protective tariff making it thus, but there was nothing like that about the gasoline, even Imperial gallons. 

Hunger was gnawing and we decided to have a bite to eat, much as we hated to waste daylight. So we asked for the eating place and were directed to a little wooden building that plainly was labeled "Public Hotel." 

Entering we found a dingy office that was a combination of a barber shop and bar. Prohibition had put the bar out of business, age had done for the barber chair, and the prospect was discouraging. But that was where appearances were deceptive, for, after a brief delay, we were led into a neat little dining room and |served with a supper as only the French served food. Bright-eyed French girls were jabbering French in the kitchen, and one of them went to the telephone and assaulted it with a flow of language that was beyond us. 

Then a husky chap went up to the instrument and bawled out a question. "What's the score?" he demanded. It seemed that Cincinnati had won. We felt quite at home for a minute. 

WE had been inquiring anxiously about the road conditions, and the official car had attracted considerable attention, so supper done, we stepped out of the dining room into the midst of a curious crowd that wanted to talk. The men all agreed that the best road lay across the Red River, and they grinned as they said that the largest city along the way was Winnipeg. Afterward we came to realize the point of the remark. Only one village intervened in all that fifty miles. The rest of the trip lay through a country where a house was a surprise and bachelor shanties were the rule. Mile after mile was along a fence-less road that ran at will and at angles, but it was a good road, except lonesome. In the distance we could see straw stacks burning in various places, and occasionally we passed an automobile, but mostly there were solid banks of second growth white birches.

If we had ever needed a bit of gas or some air pressure we'd have had quite a walk for it. And there was that flat spare on the rack!

It sounds a bit dreary, just to tell about it. but it really was a wonderful drive, with the air balmy and the night pleasant. Occasionally we would wonder whether we were on the right road, and would stop at a house to make inquiries. Always we were, although sometimes the children had to be called up to translate, the parents being French.

The engine worked to perfection, the tires held out and we had had a good supper, so on we sped, over bridges, through woods, out in the open. Finally we came to that sole village, passed it, got out into the wilds again and wondered. Then there appeared one of the blessed concrete roads that Winnipeg has built out for nine miles, and we felt as if we were nearing the goal.

But the lights of Winnipeg didn't settle all of our troubles. There was the matter of a hotel. A motorman, waiting to catch his car, offered advice. It wasn't any good, for every hotel he mentioned was full for the night. Finally, after we had tried one after the other, we were forced to put up at one that always will haunt our memories and make as firm in favor of strict hotel inspection laws.

The next morning we found room in a comfortable one...
____________

1 - "A very artistic arch-way had been erected at the border, but we had already been made to feel that we would be just as much at home in Canada as in Louisiana." [The Story of the Run, The Modern Highway, Vol 4, No. 7, August 1919, Pub. by the Jefferson Highway Association]

Wednesday, April 17, 2019

"...baggage, peltry, and squeak..."

A Red River Cart pulled by oxen, at Fort Dufferin
These carts illustrate well the primitive nature and the isolation of the Colony. They are the vehicles in universal use, and are built on the general pattern of our one-horse tip-carts, though they do not tip, and not a scrap of iron enters into them. They are without springs, of course, and rawhide and wooden pins serve to keep together the pieces out of which they are constructed. As they have no tires, and the section of the wheel part or crowd together, according to the moisture, a train of these carts bringing in the products of the hunt is a strange sight. Each cart has its own peculiar creak, hoarse and grating, and waggles its own individual waggle, graceless and shaky, on the uneven ground. To add to its oddity, the shafts are heavy, straight beams, between which is harnessed an ox, the harness of rawhide (shaga-nappi) without buckles.

Everybody makes for himself what he wishes in this undifferentiated Settlement. We return in tatters. Not a tailor, nor anything approaching the description of one, exists here, and a week's search is needed to discover such a being as a shoemaker. A single store in the Hudson's Bay post at each of the two forts, twenty miles apart, supplies the goods of the outside world, and the purchaser must furnish the receptacle for carriage. For small goods this invariably consists, as far as we can see, of a red bandanna handkerchief, so that purchases have to be small and frequent; not all of one sort, however, for the native can readily tie up his tea in one corner, his sugar and buttons in two others, and still have one left for normal uses. How many handkerchiefs a day are put to use may be judged from the fact that the average sale of tea at Upper Fort Garry is four large boxes daily--all, be it remembered, brought by ship to Hudson Bay, and thence by batteaux and portage to the Red River.
Behind them follow not only half a dozen carts, with a most promiscuous assortment of baggage, peltry, and squeak, but also a stray ox and a pony or two...
The caravan by which we and a number of others were carried back to civilization was a stylish enough turnout for Red River. It was supplied by McKinney, the host of the Royal Hotel of the village of Winnipeg. Three large emigrant wagons, with canvas coverings of the most approved pattern, but of very different hues, drawn each by a yoke of oxen, convey the patrons of the party, with the exception of a miner, who rides his horse. The astronomers take the lead under a brown canvas; a theological student for Toronto University, a gentleman for St. Paul, and others follow under a black canvas full of holes; and the third wagon with a cover of spotless purity, conveys the ladies of the party and a clergyman. Behind them follow not only half a dozen carts, with a most promiscuous assortment of baggage, peltry, and squeak, but also a stray ox and a pony or two; a number of armed horsemen, and for the first day a cavalcade of friends giving a Scotch convoy to those who were departing. The astronomers at length reached St. Paul, when they declare their connection with the world again complete, after an absence of about three months, during which they had traveled thirty-five hundred miles.

- From The Winnipeg Country: Or, Roughing it with an Eclipse Party (1886).

THE RED RIVER VOYAGEUR 
by John G. Whittier 
Out and in the river is winding
The banks of its long red chain,
Through belts of dusky pine land
And gusty leagues of plain. 
Only at times a smoky wreath
With the drifting cloud-rack joins--
The smoke of the hunting lodges
Of the wild Assiniboines. 
Drearily blows the north wind,
From the land of ice and snow;
The eyes that look are uneasy,
And heavy the hands that row. 
And with one foot on the water,
And one upon the shore,
The Angel's shadow gives warning--
That day shall be no more. 
Is it the clang of wild geese?
Is it the Indians' yell,
That lends to the voice of the North wind
The tones of a far-off bell? 
The Voyageur smiles as he listens
To the sound that grows apace;
Well he knows the vesper ringing
Of the bells of St. Boniface. 
The bells of the Roman Mission
That call from their turrets twain;
To the boatmen on the river,
To the hunter on the plain. 
Even so on our mortal journey
The bitter north winds blow;
And thus upon Life's Red River
Our hearts, as oarsmen, row. 
Happy is he who heareth
The signal of his release
In the bells of the Holy City--
The chimes of Eternal peace.

Sunday, January 20, 2019

In the News: Winchester House (Geroux Hotel)


THE PRIDE OF OLD PEMBINA. 
The Most Elegant Hostelry in Dakota, North of the Columbia at Fargo.
Special to the Globe. 
PEMBINA, N. D., April 21. – One of the most superb and popular hotels in North Dakota is the Winchester House, of Pembina. It is prominently located in the heart of the city, at the corner of Cavalier and Roulette streets, and has a frontage of fifty feet on Cavalier street and sixty feet on Roulette street. It is built with white Crookston brick, and is three stories high. It is at present one of the most elegant and substantial hotel structures north of Fargo, North Dakota. Supplied and equipped with all the modern hotel improvements of metropolitan cities, it is highly prized by all our citizens and the traveling public. Built in the year 1882, at a cost of about twenty thousand dollars, it is a most fortunate investment for its present owner and proprietor. 
J. W. Winchester, after whom the house is named, is the owner and present proprietor of this most popular public resort. The management of this hotel has been given the personal care and attention of J. W. Winchester and his bright and popular wife. Mrs. Winchester has ever been distinguished as one of the most popular and entertaining of hotel matrons, and her popular parlor entertainments have always been most highly appreciated by all the patrons of this hotel and many invited friends, and to her own careful labor in the culinary department in preparation of meals this hotel owes much for its well-earned popularity for its table luxuries. So acceptable are the meals served in this house that the southbound Northern Pacific vestibule train often stops at Pembina sufficiently long enough to enable passengers to obtain their meals here in preference to those furnished by the dining car attached to these trains. This whole structure is occupied as a hotel, and the house can, with adjoining hotel accommodations, accommodate several hundred guests at a time in a most comfortable and acceptable manner.  
This hotel has been for years the “head center” of the political, social and festive activity of the northeast corner of Dakota. In and about this charming resort are clustered some of the most interesting memories of the past political history of this section. Here it was, in this hotel, that the late Jerry Tuohy, one of the most gifted Democratic leaders of his party, planned some of his most successful political conquests in this district, and here it is where, today, the present Republican leader, Jud LaMoure, sways his numerous political cohorts, and plans his most important political battles. Here, too, Jud often “flushes” with great success and raises the “downs” with less than a pair of “breakers.” This hotel is patronized by the very best class of boarders and travelers and for neatness and comfort this house enjoys a most envious reputation. Many of the county officers are remembered among its guests, and as a hotel bonanza for its owner is the Merchants’ hotel of Pembina and this entire section of the Red River Valley. 
Source:
The Saint Paul Daily Globe
Monday Morning, April 22, 1889
Volume XI, Number 112, Page 6
 __________________

From: Pembina and Turtle Mountain Ojibway (Chippewa) history: from the personal collections and writings of Charlie White Weasel


So as you can see, Charlie White Weasel's testimony concerning who built the Winchester House (originally the Geroux Hotel) and first ran it, confirms what Chuck Walker wrote in SHERIFF CHARLEY BROWN.

Also from the same source:
Lucien Geroux ... was then keeping a hotel in South Pembina, the same building, (improved) now being the one in which the county poor are being boarded and cared for, usually called our poor house. 

The large, 2-storey building just east of the Pembina Bridge, sitting in the area where the future Selkirk Park will be, is what I think is the building mentioned above (i.e., Lucien Geroux's first hotel, later repurposed and used as the Pembina Poor House...)

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Tales from Pembina: Starvation

The 1826 flood, the worst flood of the Red River of the North ever known in modern times...


But before that, deprivation...

In the month of January, it was rumored at the Selkirk settlement, that the hunters who were on the plains of Minnesota in quest of buffalo were starving. The sufferers were from one hundred and fifty to two hundred miles from Pembina, and the only way to carry provisions to them was by dog sleds. The sympathy for their welfare was very great; and even the widow contributed a mite to their relief.

It appears from a statement made by one who was in the colony at the time, that in the (prior) month of December, 1825, a snow storm raged with violence for several days, and drove the buffalo out of the hunter's reach. As this was an unexpected contingency, they had no meat as a substitute, and famine stared them in the face.

Says an eye-witness1:
"Families here, and families there, despairing of life, huddled themselves together for warmth, and in too many cases, their shelter proved their grave. At first the heat of their bodies melted the snow; they became wet, and being without food or fuel, the cold soon penetrated, and in several instances froze the whole body into solid ice. Some again were in a state of actual delirium, while others were picked up frozen to death; one woman was found with an infant on her back within a quarter mile of Pembina. This poor creature must have traveled at the least, one hundred and twenty-five miles in three days and nights. Those that were found alive, had devoured their horses, their dogs, raw-hides, leather, and their very shoes. So great were their sufferings, that some died on the road to the colony after being relieved at Pembina. One man with his wife and three children were dug out of the snow where they had been buried for five days and nights without food, fire, or light of the sun, and the wife and two of the children recovered."
When the spring came, the melting of the winter's snow produced a still greater calamity. On the second day of May, in twenty-four hours, the Red River rose nine feet; and by the fifth, the plains were submerged. A panic now seized every living thing; dogs howled, cattle lowed, children cried, mothers wept and wrung their hands, and fathers called out to their families to escape to the hills. The water continued to rise until the twenty-first, and houses and barns floated in the rushing waters. On one night a house in flames moved over the waters amid logs and uprooted trees, household furniture, and drowning cattle, reminding one of the day when "the heavens being on fire, shall be dissolved."

- From: The History of Minnesota: From the Earliest French Explorations to the Present Time, by Edward Duffield Neill, Secretary of the Minnesota Historical Society (1858))

1 - Alexander Ross

Saturday, September 29, 2018

Union Family



Lena Cameron Mortimer was born into a farming family in St. Vincent, Minnesota.  She became a Socialist Party activist and married the Journeyman Tailors Union of America (JTUA) union leader, John Mortimer in Winnipeg in 1901.  They had several children before he drowned crossing the Red River near Emerson, Manitoba in an accident, in 1910.


LENA MORTIMER:  One Woman's Way of Thinking

As I passed out through the crowd as it was dispersing on Sunday evening after the meeting at which Comrades Pettipiece and Fitzgerald were speaking on the Woman question, I chanced to hear a few remarks from some of the men that had been present at the meeting which struck me as rather amusing.  One of the worthy bunch said in a rather sneering way:  "What!  Give the women a vote?  Not much, their place is stay at home and minding their business, let us men do all the voting." 
To me, of course, it was the same old yarn.  I have heard it so often that I cannot keep silent any longer.  Some of the men do not stop long enough to think just what a very important part a woman does fill in this life.  If we women are fit to be mothers of their children; fit to teach those same children in the schools, and fit to fill most every position in life, then by all that's good and holy we are able to stand shoulder to shoulder with our noble brothers and cast our vote along with them for the one great cause for which we are both fighting, the only cause that will benefit the working men and women of today. 
"Men say that we women do not have sense enough to vote the right way.  Ditto, my brother!  Could we possibly make it any worse than you have made it by your way of voting?"
Men say that we women do not have sense enough to vote the right way.  Ditto, my brother!  Could we possibly make it any worse than you have made it by your way of voting?  Give the woman a chance.  Let her once grasp the situation and see if she won't vote right.  Treat her as an equal and try to help her get hold of a few socialistic ideals.  Help her to see what it all means.  Give her as fair a chance as you would give a man and you will find out that she can grasp the truth just as quick as any man. 
I believe it is up to every woman in...any place on top of this old earth, to get busy, and dig down and find out for herself just where she is at and if some of the men turn up their noses at our feeble efforts, go to it with more heart than ever.  Prove to them that if given a chance we can at least use our vote to as good advantage as they have in the past.  We cannot make matters any worse than they are making them right now.  So go to it, my sisters.  Show them if we are fit to be mothers of the coming generation of Socialists we are fit to march to the ballot-box and vote the right way just as soon as you men give us a chance.  And fit to share equally with you all the comforts that Socialism will bring when the men as well as the women get into their heads sense enough to vote the right way to hasten its coming. 
[Source:  Lena Mortimer, "One Woman's Way of Thinking," Western Clarion (Vancouver, BC), 27 May 1911.]

Friday, September 28, 2018

KCND-TV: How it Came to Be


This excerpt is from a long article about the early years of TV along the border in our area.  There was a race who got their transmitting tower up first (Pembina won by a day...), and some called KCND a "bargain basement" station.  Maybe so, but they did the best they could with the budget they had, and for many kids growing up then - myself included - we will be forever indebted to Channel 12 Pembina for the hundreds of amazing old Hollywood films they showed on Saturday and Sunday afternoons (not to mention Saturday night's "Chiller Thriller"!!)
We got to know classic comedies starring Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello, the Three Stooges, as well as the Marx Brothers, Jimmy Durante, and W.C. Fields.  Then there were the great dramas starring Tyrone Power, John Wayne, Errol Flynn, Betty David, Kathryn Hepburn, Laurence Olivier, Basil Rathbone, Mae West, Jean Harlow, Burt Lancaster, Peter Lorre, Claude Rains, James Cagney, Charlie Chaplin, William Powell, Robert Mitchum, Joseph Cotton, Orson Wells, etc.  So many names and faces, one cannot remember them all yet they were and are all unforgettable.  All thanks to one tiny TV station in Pembina...
In 1956, a group of investors associated with a Grand Forks radio station won permission from the U.S. Federal Communications Commission to construct a new Channel 12 TV station in the tiny border town of Pembina, N.D. 
Their goal, however, wasn’t to serve Pembina and the sparsely populated surrounding area. It was to serve Winnipeg audiences, 100 kilometres to the north, and hopefully make some money satisfying Canadians’ insatiable appetite for American TV programming. 
The station was slow to get to air, though. It wasn’t until early 1959 — nearly three years after they were awarded the licence — that the serious work of building studios and erecting a tower got under way. Now with a second Winnipeg station under construction at Polo Park, it became urgent for the Pembina operation to finally get up and running. 
Thus began a mad race between the owners of Channel 7 and Channel 12 — which would become better known as CJAY-TV and KCND-TV later in the year — to beat the other station to air. 
“The idea of KCND was to come into the (Winnipeg) market as the second station, but in the interim the licence was granted to CJAY, so they were building at the same time,” former KCND-CKND employee Dorothy Lien told the Winnipeg Free Press in 1989. 
“It was a great race between the stations to see who would get their tower up [first],” she recalled. “I remember driving down to Pembina in September of 1960 to watch our antenna being mounted, and then driving back to Ste. Agathe to see that they were at the stage of getting theirs up, too.” 
The race was as close as one got to a photo finish in the broadcasting industry.
On Sunday, Nov. 6, 1960, Winnipeggers noticed a test signal coming in from Pembina on Channel 12. On Monday, Nov. 7, the half-finished station went on air at 6 p.m. with a limited program selection, owing to the fact that the station was literally not yet connected to the ABC and NBC networks from which it would obtain most of its programming. 
Given that the only other option in Winnipeg was to watch the CBC station, viewers weren’t exactly choosy. 
Five days later, at 5:30 p.m. on Saturday, Nov. 12, 1960, CJAY-TV Channel 7 signed on from a brand-new studio next to Polo Park Shopping Centre. 
Though CJAY had lost the race to air, it still had a decided advantage over its cross-border rival. 
“We had very low power and very poor microwave [linking the station to the networks],” Lien told the Winnipeg Free Press in 1989. “We really didn’t make an impact for about six years. People didn’t have the antennas to bring in Channel 12.” 
KCND had been modeled after KVOS-TV, a small outlet in Bellingham, Wash., just across the border from Vancouver, which discovered that there was big money to be made in buying programs at low Bellingham rates and selling advertising at high Vancouver-Victoria rates. 
The practice was controversial, given that KVOS was at times selling advertising on programs for which a B.C. broadcaster had supposedly purchased “exclusive” rights; but it also made KVOS one of North America’s most profitable TV stations for a time.
But there was a critical difference between KVOS and KCND. 
KVOS’s transmitter was only 70 kilometres from central Vancouver and just 45 kilometres from Victoria, close enough to put a strong and clear “Grade-A” signal into those communities, as it still does today. 
KCND’s transmitter was 100 kilometres from central Winnipeg. Its “Grade-A” signal only went as far north as Niverville, beyond which ground clutter and weather tended to interfere with reception. 
Given that there were no cable systems in Winnipeg at the time, it was an oversight on the part of the station’s owners that threatened to bankrupt the station. 
“Our signal was never as strong in Winnipeg as our engineers thought it would be,” lamented Boyd Christenson, an early KCND announcer and program host who was interviewed by the Winnipeg Free Press in the mid ’80s. 
“We weren’t getting the dollars we needed out of Winnipeg to sustain the station,” Christenson said, describing the station’s financially troubled early years. 
The station’s fortunes dramatically improved after the arrival of cable TV in Winnipeg in the late ’60s. 
KCND’s survival in the early years was no doubt driven by the fascination that many Manitobans had for the glamour of Kennedy-era America and a yearning for something different on their screens, which led to a cult following in Winnipeg. 
“KCND was strictly bargain basement,” former Winnipeg resident Greg Klymkiw wrote in a June 2010 article for the Electric Sheep web site. “Though to kids, tired of fiddlers from Newfoundland and joyful Canucks winning useless pen and pencil sets on stupid Canadian TV, KCND was… AMERICA!” 
“I kind of fell in love with KCND-TV Channel 12,” a commentator named Rob wrote to The View from Seven in November 2010. “For some reason the channel 12 logo was very cool!” 
“My dad’s bedroom TV had only local stations, but he got channel 12 by installing an interior Channel 12 Antenna… sometime in ’71 or ’72 but we weren’t allowed to use his TV. My younger brother used to sneak in there and watch reruns of ‘Lost in Space’ at 6 PM while my dad was working evenings,” Rob wrote. 
“Sometimes my dad called us to his bedroom to watch ‘Chiller Thriller’ at 10:30 PM Saturday night,” he added, referring to the station’s popular Saturday night horror movies.

1907 St. Vincent Main Street

The carriage looks suspiciously like our 'Mystery Man' again!  Could it be?!
Source:  Digital Horizons, State Historical Society of North Dakota, via Pembina Historical Society
This shows the main street in St. Vincent, Minn. in 1907. Many buildings line the street and electric lines are visible. Notice the street is unpaved and there are wooden sidewalks present.

This street leads down to the river where it curves to the north for a short way, to where the ferry crossing is that takes people, wagons, etc. over to Pembina on the Red River. At the far end, where years later a bridge will be, you can make out buildings. Down in that area, at this time, is an elevator and a brewery, among other businesses.

St. Vincent Engine No. 1,  on display during the 155th Town Reunion in 2012
The firehall, its bell tower seen on the left (south side) of the street, is new, just built in 1903, housing a new fire engine, St. Vincent Engine No. 1! Directly behind the horse carriage on the right , behind the electric light post, is a short awning. That is the St. Vincent Bank. The larger awning to the right is over the entrance to the Nelson Green store. That same lot is where the Valley Community Church (later the St. Vincent EFC) was located.

Out of view, on the left, is the railway depot, platform, and tracks, which go south of the firehall running east/west. At one point, the tracks also went down to the river and curved around to the north, where the plans had been to build a railway bridge. Unfortunately, that never happened and that change significantly impacted St. Vincent's growth. Those tracks were later removed, and the rails into St. Vincent dead-ended in town. For over 70 years, St. Vincent had freight and passenger service as a sort of consolation prize, but it was ultimately doomed. For its first 30 years or so, it served an important role in bringing thousands - yes, thousands according to many newspaper articles - of settlers north and west, on the railroad. Most did not stay in our area, but only passed through.

In 1907, the town was already quieting down, but still a busy small town around 300 population. Right across the river, its counterpart and neighbor - and in the past, part of the same territory - was Pembina, around 600 or so at this time. So the 'twin city' area has a lively community of citizens, schools, churches, businesses, and surrounding farms. A great place to live, work, and raise families...

Wednesday, August 01, 2018

Headlines: New Year 1908, Bullet Dance, & Ferry Franchise



Pioneer Express
January 3, 1908

The New Year was ushered in by the bells of the city echoing with those of St. Vincent and Emerson, assisted by about a half dozen locomotive whistles, at the roundhouses, proclaiming twelve o’clock. There are not many places on the American continent where two states can join hands with Great Britain and celebrate the dawn of a New Year.

* * * *

Pioneer Express
January 31, 1908

A One-Armed Joker

There was a grim, capital joker at Noyes, Minn., last Thursday night and the details of the affair were kept somewhat quiet by the victims, but at last have mostly leaked out. It seems that a one-armed man, who had lost his limb in the Boer War, was on the train coming south and not being provided with proper credentials, the U.S. immigration inspector had him put off the train at Emerson. The man then walked to Noyes, just across the line, and armed with a revolver and bowie knife held up the employees there about a half dozen in number. He amused himself by shooting out window glass and at other prominent targets. Mr. MacKay, the agent, slipped out and went to his residence and got a shotgun, but the man was onto his game and waylaid him as he came back and took the gun away. There are various stories of how he lined up the employees and made them practice military steps and formation, showing them how to step with pistol shots fired in the direction of their feet. He locked Mr. MacKay up in the private office. He also opened the money drawer in the safe and, observing the small amount there, said he did not need that as he had much more already and showed a couple of big rolls as proof. After keeping guard over the unfortunate crowd for about four hours, but taking nothing from them, he left, went back to Emerson, slept in a barn all night; next day he walked to Ridgeville and took the train from there for the east.

* * * * *

Pioneer Express
February 7, 1902

Meeting notes of the Pembina city council

W. G. Deacon, village recorder of St. Vincent and lessee of the Minnesota site of the ferry, was present and addressed the council on the subject of building a new ferry boat. The council spent considerable time in discussing the matter, and on motion of Alderman Miller, Messrs. Short, LaMoure and Price were appointed a committee to investigate the condition of the old boat and to find the approximate cost of a new boat and to look up any other matters in this connection and to report the same at a meeting of the council to be held on Monday, February 10th, next. F. A. Wardwell, Auditor

Same issue -

The City council are wrestling with the ferry problem. A new boat, has to be built which will cost anywhere from $350 to $600 according to plan. St. Vincent wanted this city to build half the boat, or if they build a boat for us to pay $100 a year rental. It would be preferable for the city not to have anything to do with the boat at all, but let the ferryman furnish his own boat. But nobody would build a boat on a one year franchise and there are many objections to letting it for five years, which would be the least term that anyone would take and build a boat. The fact that there are two ends to the ferry, one owned by St. Vincent and the other by Pembina, makes complications which must be provided for or make trouble. The St. Vincent people seem to be willing to act fairly, and it is probably the matter will be settled all right finally.

* * * * *

Pioneer Express
February 21, 1902

Bids For Ferry Franchise

Bids will be received by the City of Pembina for the running of a Ferry across the Red River, landing within the corporate limits of said city, as follows -

First-Bidders shall state the highest amount they will pay the city for the ferry franchise for the season of 1902, the city to furnish boats ad other necessary apparatus.

Or, Second – Bidders shall state the highest amount they will pay this City for the Ferry Franchise for a term of five years; such bidders also agreeing to furnish good and suitable boats and apparatus for that time at their own cost and expense.

Bids for the one year franchise and for the five year franchise to be in separate envelopes.

Bids for the one year franchise shall be for cash in advance on acceptance of bid by the city.

Bids for the five year franchise shall provide for two equal, annual payments each year, the first payment to be cash on acceptance of bid by the City Council and each other payment to be cash in advance, July 15th, and April 15th, respectively each year.

Each bid must be accompanied by a certified check payable to J. M. Chisholm, Mayor, or by cash, to the amount of twenty-five dollars, to be forfeited to the City of Pembina if the bidder refuses or neglects to give suitable bond for the carrying out of the contract and franchise, if his bid be accepted – otherwise said moneys to be returned to bidders.

Bids should be sealed and endorses “Bids for Ferry Franchise” addressed to the undersigned and delivered to him, or placed in the post office at Pembina on or before 6 o’clock p.m., Feby.24th, 1902

The City Council reserves the right to reject any or all bids.

By order of City Council
F. A. Wardwell, Auditor

Friday, July 27, 2018

Frank "Chicken Stalker" Dickens & Fort Dufferin

Francis J. Dickens, second from the right
From Wayne Arseny, former mayor of Emerson:
I think of the latrine at Fort Dufferin and once read something about it being a 3-hole toilet. To me that was a rare oddity, and kooky as it sounds to write about, something people would want to see inside for themselves after reading it on a sign. 
As a kid we only had an outdoor biffy (one hole style) but when you went to community halls or schools you often saw 4-hole ones. So why was Fort Dufferin only three? So many reasons to guess on why they had to make them that way. I also read in the diary from Francis Dickens, one of the first NWMP officers - and son of the famous writer, Charles Dickens - of men going out to use the biffy in the night with their primitive lanterns on a windy night. The toilets were made from recycled lumber which often had poor fitting boards leaving gaping holes. 
As the wind swirled around the building he said it was often so windy inside the biffy that the lamp blew out. Sitting there in their long underwear with no pockets and no match to relight the lantern, making their way back to the sleeping quarters was difficult in total darkness. No yard lights or lanterns left burning in the building as a guide. So he said they strung a rope on short posts from the biffy to the main house.  A man would just follow the rope back to not get lost.
From Dufferin: Then and Now (Manitoba History, Spring 1992):
In 1874, when Northwest Mounted Police Inspector Francis Dickens arrived at Dufferin, an outpost along the west side of the Red River near the Manitoba-U.S. Border, he was angry and upset, first because he had arrived too late to take part in the original trek west, and second because he would have to remain at what he considered one of the most unpleasant places in the entire British Empire. [1] George A. French, the first commissioner of the North West Mounted Police, described the site [Fort Dufferin/Emerson area], where he would assemble nearly 300 people in preparation for a march into Canada’s far west, as a “small shanty town surrounded by a few brothels and grog shops.” [2] 
1.  E. Nicol, (ed), Dickens of the Mounted (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1989). A series of letters written by Francis Dickens during his stay in the North West Mounted Police. Although often full of disdain for the physical situation he was placed in, these letters provide an insight into the conditions of the time as well as the character and personality of the writer.  
2.  G. A. French, Diary, July 8 - November 7, 1874.
From the Dictionary of Canadian Biography:
His superiors consistently rated him as lazy, alcoholic, and unfit to be an officer in the NWMP.
From Lesser Expectations:  Charles Dickens' Son in North America - Amusing anecdotes:
Calculating that the free time he would have in Toronto would be the last until he was subject to the rigours of military service and a prairie winter that was still beyond his imagination, Dickens indulged in more than his share of intoxicants. Two days behind schedule, he caught the train for Chicago. He chastised himself for his foolishness and took no more alcohol until he reached Pembina. He arrived in a cold spell in late October and Dickens had never felt a chill as bitter as that of the prairies. Like all frontier towns, Pembina contained more than its share of rogues, swells, and desperadoes, wonderful characters whom Dickens found enchanting. He again succumbed to temptation, easily taken in by new-found friends and took what he considered to be a modest amount of brandy to ward off the frigid winds of late fall. This was a momentary lapse, but it launched him into a wave of comradeship with the peculiar people who populated the local saloons. It was three days before he realized with alarm that he would be unable to make the planned rendezvous...