St. Vincent Memories

Guest Essay: Harvest Memories

2012-01-23T13:07:00.000-06:00

Alfred "Rusty" Rustad with the family's 'new' combine
[Photo Courtesy: Rustad Family Collection]

By Michael Rustad

As a child growing up in Northwest Minnesota, I remember that all of the town's activities centered around the harvest in late August, early September. Football practice often had to be scheduled in the wee hours of the morning to accommodate harvest season. My grandfather, Alfred Hagbart Sr. and my father, Rustee, farmed our quarter section and rented another quarter section of land from Bob Shantz. We were a rather primitive operation. Attempt the impossible. Achieve the possible. And, that was not easy in Minnesota.

Today: The '35 Chevy truck awaits restoration
[Photo Courtesy: Rustad Family Collection]

Our farming operation did not have air-conditioned cabs and stereo systems incorporated in the combines. We had a 1935 Chevy truck that was started with a crank. It was an extremely difficult gear shift and several of the gears were stripped or in bad condition. The truck ran well because of my Dad's ability to over-haul the ancient engine. Our combine was a 1942 left-handed Allis-Chalmers combine. I could never get a clear understanding of why the combine was left-handed. One of the consequences was that the initial rows of fallen grain had to be moved by hand to enter the field. What idiot invented a left-handed combine? We had the only left-handed combine. This required my brother and I to move the rows, so the combine would not run over the fallen wheat and lost! This was my job. My grandmother Rustad often drove the truck and I often kept her company.

It was during the harvest that I developed severe breathing problems from the intense dust. The truck front-side windows were both broken so they would not roll up all the way. There was no way to prevent a cloud of dust from entering the truck. It was quite an unpleasant experience. I later learned that farmer's lung, the equivalent of asbestosis, killed many farmers. By the way, the grim reapers (as the lawyers called them), were dangerous too. There were unprotected and unguarded moving machinery ready to take off your favorite arm or leg. My friend, John Hunt, fell from a tractor and a plow shear created an injury. He plowed up a nest of hornets and fell off while fending off the hornets. He recovered but nearly lost his life. My next door neighbor Diane was also run over by a tractor and fortunately was not seriously harmed.

The truck loads of grain were generally augured into the grainery directly. I did not comprehend how dangerous these unguarded augers were until reading accounts of farm accidents later while studying product liability law. There were no warnings of the dangers of unguarded augers. The farmers of that area presumed that any damn fool did not go near the auger. Yet, year after year, the toll of farm accidents marched on.

I did not enjoy the harvest period very much as it was a period of high tension and excruciating long hours of work which largely fell on my Dad's shoulders. He would work a full day at the Post Office and rush home to work in the fields. I was not a gifted farm boy when it came to mechanics, machinery repair etc. I remember trying to help my Dad get the combine in shape for an upcoming harvest and negligently left a wrench inside. When the combine started the wrench broke every slat and caused us to lose a few day's time, which is precious during harvest. My Father was infinitely patient but was not pleased with me. But, he never again asked me to crawl into the inner bowels of the combine.

One of the family's old tractors is slowly being grown over now
[Photo Courtesy: Rustad Family Collection]

Lunches in the field had to be grabbed on the run. I remember my Dad eating corn on the cob while driving the combine. He somehow managed to eat a half dozen ears of corn in the course of a lunch in the field and he simultaneously continued to operate the combine. He had a rotary motion when he ate the corn and never dropped an ear.

Gallons of coffee were consumed by the harvesting crew. My grandfather Rustad was a legendary coffee drinker and I remember him draining near a 1/2 gallon of coffee out of the jar in the field. That amount of coffee would have stopped the heart of most Americans, but he was a Norwegian-American.

I was always relieved by the end of harvest. I cannot recall many good harvests. It seemed like something came to ruin the harvest every year. There was "rust" that infected the wheat, hail, or too much or too little rain. My experience with farming convinced me to pay attention to my studies so I would never again choke from harvest dust.

I often wondered why some of the smaller farmers continued to farm long after it was [not that] profitable. I think that I finally understand why decades later. I believe that there must be something inherently satisfying about being your own boss and looking forward to a better crop next year.It is like being a Red Sox fan. Maybe, next year the Red Sox will win the World Series. However, there is always some natural disaster preventing success in the next year. In the days before corporate farming, there were many farms like the Rustad family farm. This meant that the towns of the Red River Valley were populated by young families with dreams of a better harvest next year. Today our land is out of the family and owned by one of the "big" operators. I knew from an early age that I needed an escape plan from the Great Northwest. When I left that area, I thought it looked best in the rear view mirror. Decades later, I seldom go back to the Great Northwest, Minnesota. Nevertheless, I acknowledge that it helped me develop my character and personality---and work ethic.

The combine in later years...
[Photo Courtesy: Rustad Family Collection]

Good Roads Movement

2012-01-18T14:45:00.001-06:00

St. Vincent was a termination point for one of the
earliest trunk highways in Minnesota...

People were sick of (getting stuck in) mud. They wanted good roads.

Lobbyists - first for the bicycle manufacturers (in the 1880s), then later the new-fangled automobile manufacturers - began pressuring Congress to fund money to build roads across the nation. Regional, state, and local 'good roads movements' sprang up, including Minnesota.

One of the first trunk highways in our area was the Jefferson Highway, better known today as Highway 75.

1927-28 Girls Basketball Team

2012-01-08T14:29:00.000-06:00

Front: Eileen Twamley, Mamie Cleem (Captain), Mae Gamble
Back: Isabelle Fitzpatrick, Verlie Cameron, Fidessa Wilkie,
Dick Lapp (coach), Leila Davis, Violet Cleem, Fern Fitzpatrick.
ARE THE NAMES in the RIGHT ORDER?
[Photo Courtesy: Kittson County Historical Society via Perm Diamond]

When growing up in St. Vincent, I regularly heard stories told by my mother, father, and grandmother (not to mention other village and county residents) about our hometown. They ranged from tales of what the town looked like in the past, its businesses, the railroad, the churches, the roads and sidewalks (or lack thereof), to the lives of the residents themselves - their dreams, their families, and yes - their trials and woes. More often than not, it was the tragedies and disappointments that were remembered.

However, there were also many happy memories shared.
Among them, was a passing reference to my Uncle John being an athlete in high school. Not a lot to go on, and nothing about the fact that around the same time as John was participating in sports, the entire school had blossomed. Except for the first years following incorporation and the initial surge of immigration, the time period we're talking about had the highest population. There was a wide variety of extra curricular activities being offered for a small school, including sports. I found all of this out many years later. Even still later, I began finding out details to put on the skeleton of the bare-bone facts.

Recently, I was sent an image of the 1928 Girls Basketball Team from the St. Vincent School. You can make a fairly safe conclusion, with the inconsistency of design, that the girls are wearing homemade uniforms. But bless them, they did their best. My guess is that the girls made their own uniforms, at least the appliques - they show an immaturity that their mothers would have overcome had they created them. It's sweet to see their efforts, though - the students and their community may have been humble, but they had school spirit!

NOTE: Thanks to Kent Myrick (whose mother is in the above photograph, and who owns a complete, original copy of the 1928 Borderlines school annual), Lori Kohut Bianco (Gamble family descendant and whose great aunt is in the photo), and myself (who has two cousins in the photo), we know exactly WHO is in the photo, but we're still not entirely sure of the ORDER. The ones we know for sure are the two Fitzpatricks girls (my cousins, one on each end of the back row), Leila Davis (Kent's mother, to the right of the coach), and the coach himself, Richard Lapp. The other names are not conclusively matched to faces. Personally, I think the girl second from the left in the back looks like a Twamley, but I could be wrong. Also, Lori had heard oral family history about her great aunt having round glasses like the one girl does in the photo, at this time, but Kent says other photos showing a Mae Gamble with others doesn't show a girl with glasses. VERY confusing. Anyone reading this that can help clarify, I would love to hear from you!

A year later: College Girl ID photo

St. Vincent Trivia: My Aunt Pat (Alberta Fitzpatrick) - who played on the St. Vincent Girls Basketball Team in high school - was in the final graduating class of the St. Vincent school, the Class of 1930. Although the official consolidation bringing about District 352 didn't happen until the 1950's, evidently in the school year of 1929-30, the majority of the higher grade students began going to Humboldt. My cousin (Aunt Pat's daughter) said her mother told her that she and three other boys were the only 4 to graduate from the St. Vincent High school in the 'last class' - Alberta, Fred Stranger, a Smith boy, and one other. All others transferred to Humboldt. The ones that transferred had to pay a tuition to do so. The parents of the four students didn't have the money for it. So Alberta wasn't going to finish school.

One morning she came downstairs and found my grandma (her mother) crying and when Alberta asked Grandma why she was crying Grandma said because I only had a 3rd grade education and you have a chance to graduate and aren't going to be able to do it. So my mother called the boys and asked them if they would be willing to go back to school and they agreed so they showed up in Prof. Good's class. Mom said he was so happy to see them he got tears in his eyes. From what I understand, the Professor made sure these four students graduated that final year...

Port of St. Vincent: Welcome to America

2012-01-01T10:59:00.000-06:00

Originally issued in 1888, this is an 1891 copy of a
Declaration of Intention [Courtesy: Jim Benjaminson]

This Declaration of Intention certificate is for Magnus Benjaminson. He emigrated from Iceland in 1886, and arrived in the United States via the Port of St. Vincent.

Many entered the United States via the Port of St. Vincent from Canada, and still more came across the young territory of Minnesota from the South by train, wagon, and even steamship. Some stayed, most left. St. Vincent was a crossroads just like her sister city Pembina was before her.

New York had Ellis Island, Kittson County had St. Vincent!

Market Day

2011-12-26T13:33:00.000-06:00

Postcard: Late 1800s Market Day in Hallock
(Photographer: William Kelson - Minnesota Historical Society)
[Click to see large version of image...]

Christmas Eve, 1817

2011-12-24T22:10:00.000-06:00

An early Christmas Eve in Pembina/St. Vincent tells how when Lord Selkirk's settlers had an insufficient harvest that fall, and came south looking for a place to winter when their supplies ran out, they were met with compassion by the locals...

The night of their arrival was Christmas eve of 1817, and the Indians and mixed bloods were touched by their haggard faces, and shared with them their own scanty fare...

From The History of Minnesota, by Edward Duffield Neill

News from the Past: St. Vincent New Era

2011-12-14T22:38:00.000-06:00

Rev. Beer did his best to nurture the small church in St. Vincent;
He later went on to start missions in far off Alaska...

March 28, 1890 News Snippets

There has been a butter famine at St. Vincent lately...Water is accumulating on the sides of the Red River...The carpenters are altering part of the station to make it into a residence for Agent Grasse and family...Rector Beer gave a dinner party on Monday evening to several friends who met Professor Hazen before his departure for Washington.
________________

June 28, 1890 News

As neither Hallock, Northcote, Humboldt, or Pembina is celebrating the glorious 4th, the people of St. Vincent determined to do so. Kennedy on the South and St. Vincent on the North ends of the county will take care of all their neighbors and in friendly rivalry will endeavor to surpass each other in a hearty welcome to all visits, and will extend a "Highland" welcome to their friends on that day.

The St. Vincent Council appropriated a liberal sum and a most excellent committee has charge of the days sports, whose names are a guarantee that fair treatment will be accorded to all competitors and that nothing will be left undone to make the day a pleasant holiday.

The merchants and citizens intend to decorate the front of their stores and residences with trees, flowers and bunting, thus adding to the natural beauty of the loveliest village in the Northwest, and at night the two large rooms of the District School House will be used to dance in.
________________

July 25, 1890 News

Mayor E.M. Nixon and other influential Pembina citizens are proposing to build a pontoon bridge across the Red River and make it a free bridge. It is a good scheme and should be encouraged.

First Bridge: Pontoon Bridge looking east towards St. Vincent...

________________

December 26, 1930 Ads

"The Unholy Three" - Hear Lon Chaney Talk, also two reel comedy at the Grand Theatre, Hallock, Thursday and Saturday, Jan 1-3, Admission 15, 25, and 40 cents.

If you don't happen to have the cash to send in on your subscription, remember we will take chickens, turkeys, pork, beef, eggs, butter, or stove wood in exchange. These articles cost money and they are as good as cash to us, but don't forget it - Let's hear from you, at once.

Little Minnesota: St. Vincent

2011-12-10T16:02:00.001-06:00

Little Minnesota has finally been published!

I was excited to get a copy in the mail this week, and of course, looked up the entry on St. Vincent right away...

It was worth the wait! Jill did a great job on my hometown. One of her sources was this website, I am pleased to say. This is the first time I have gotten credit as a source for a book - very exciting!

Please take a look at the following two pages about St. Vincent - just click to enlarge...

Jill kindly sent me this thank you...

Letter from 1854

2011-12-04T13:45:00.000-06:00

I come across ephemera quite often that touches on my hometown area. Journal entries, newspaper articles, letters, etc. The following is a letter being shared from the past, 1854 to be exact, of an early Minnesota politician seeing Pembina for the first time. He discusses the geography of the area including the Red River, the possibility of a military fort at Pembina, and settlement hopes in the area...

While this is not the letter below, it is an example of a letter sent
around the same time (1854) and from the same place (Pembina)...

I will here subjoin the following extract from a letter addressed to Gov. Stephens by the Hon. Henry M. Rice, the able delegate from Minnesota. It is dated 3rd June, 1854:

It is common to say that settlements have not extended beyond Crow Wing. This is only technically true. There is a settlement at Pembina, where the dividing line between British America and the United States crosses the Red River of the North. It didn't extend there from our frontier, sure enough. If it extended from anywhere it must have been from the north, or along the confines of that mystic region called Rainy Lake. Pembina is said to have about 600 inhabitants. It is situated on the Pembina River. It is an Indian-French word meaning cranberry. Men live there who were born there, and it is in fact an old settlement. It was founded by British subjects, who thought they had located on British soil. The greater part of its inhabitants are half-breeds, who earn a comfortable livelihood in fur hunting and in farming. It sends two representatives and a councilor to the territorial legislature. It is 460 miles north-west of St. Paul, and 330 miles distant from this town. Notwithstanding the distance, there is considerable communication between the places. West of Pembina, about thirty miles, is a settlement called St. Joseph, situated near a large mythological body of water called Miniwakan, or Devil's Lake; and is one of the points where Col. Smith's expedition was intending to stop. This expedition to which I refer, started out from Fort Snelling in the summer, to explore the country on both sides of the Red River of the North as far as Pembina, and to report to the war department the best points for the establishment of a new military post. It is expected that Col. Smith will return by the first of next month; and it is probable he will advise the erection of a post at Pembina. When that is done, if it is done, its effect will be to draw emigrants from the Red River settlement into Minnesota.

Now let me say a word about this Red River of the North, for it is beginning to be a great feature in this upper country. It runs north, and empties into Lake Winnipeg, which connects with Hudson's Bay by Nelson River. It is a muddy and sluggish stream, navigable to the mouth of Sioux Wood River for vessels of three feet draught for four months in the year. So that the extent of its navigation within the territory alone (between Pembina and the mouth of Sioux Wood River) is 417 miles. Buffaloes still feed on its western banks. Its tributaries are numerous and copious, abounding with the choicest kinds of game, and skirted with a various and beautiful foliage. It cannot be many years before this magnificent valley shall pour its products into our markets, and be the theatre of a busy and genial life.

One of the first things which drew my attention to this river was a sight of several teams travelling towards this vicinity from a north-westerly direction. I observed that the complexion of those in the caravan was a little darker than that of pure white Minnesotans, and that the carts were a novelty. "Who are those people? and where are they from?" I inquired of a friend. "They are Red River people, just arrived—they have come down to trade." Their carts are made to be drawn by one animal, either an ox or a horse, and are put together without the use of a particle of iron. They are excellently adapted to prairie travelling. How strange it seems! Here are people who have been from twenty to thirty days on their journey to the nearest civilized community. This is their nearest market. Their average rate of travelling is about fifteen miles a day, and they generally secure game enough on the way for their living. I have had highly interesting accounts of the Red River settlement since I have been here, both from Mr. Ross and Mr. Marion, gentlemen recently from there. The settlement is seventy miles north of Pembina, and lies on both sides of the river. Its population is estimated at 10,000. It owes its origin and growth to the enterprise and success of the Hudson's Bay Company. Many of the settlers came from Scotland, but the most were from Canada. They speak English and Canadian French. The English style of society is well kept up, whether we regard the church with its bishop, the trader with his wine cellar, the scholar with his library, the officer with his sinecure, or their paper currency. I find they have everything but a hotel, for I was particular on that point, though not intending just yet to go there. Probably the arrivals do not justify such an institution, but their cordial hospitality will make up for any such lack, from all I hear. They have a judge who gets a good house to live in, and £1000 sterling a year; but he has nothing of consequence to do. He was formerly a leading lawyer in Canada.

The great business of the settlement, of course, is the fur traffic. An immense amount of buffalo skins is taken in the summer and autumn, while in the winter smaller but more valuable furs are procured. The Indians also enlist in the hunts ; and it is estimated that upwards of $200,000 worth of furs are annually taken from our territory and sold to the Hudson's Bay Company. It is high time indeed that a military post should be established somewhere on the Red River by our government. The Hudson's Bay Company is now a powerful monopoly. Not so magnificent and potent as the East India Company, it is still a powerful combination, showering opulence on its members, and reflecting a peculiar feature in the strength and grandeur of the British empire—a power, which, to use the eloquent language of Daniel Webster, "has dotted over the whole surface of the globe with her possessions and military posts—whose morning drum-beat, following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, circles the earth daily with one continuous and unbroken strain of martial music." The company is growing richer every year, and its jurisdiction and its lands will soon find an availability never dreamed of by its founders, unless, as may possibly happen, popular sovereignty steps in to grasp the fruits of its long apprenticeship. Some time ago I believe the Canadas sought to annex this broad expense to their own jurisdiction. There are about two hundred members in the Hudson's Bay Company. The charter gives them the power to legislate for the settlement. They have many persons in their employ in England as well as in British America. A clerk, after serving the company ten years, with a salary of about $500 per annum, is considered qualified for membership, with the right to vote in the deliberations of the company, and one share in the profits. The profits of a share last year amounted to $10,000! A factor of the company, after serving ten years, is entitled to membership with the profits of two shares. The aristocracy of the settlement consists principally of retired factors and other members of the company, who possess large fortunes, dine on juicy roast beef, with old port, ride in their carriages, and enjoy life in a very comfortable manner. Two of the company's ships sail up into Hudson's Bay every year to bring merchandise to the settlement and take away furs. But the greatest portion of the trade is done with Minnesota. Farming is carried on in the neighborhood of the settlement with cheerful ease and grand success. I was as much surprised to hear of the nature of their agriculture as of anything else concerning the settlement. The same kind of crops are raised as in Pennsylvania or Maine; and this in a country, be it remembered, five hundred miles and upwards north of St. Paul. Stock must be easily raised, as it would appear from the fact that it is driven down here into the territory and sold at a great profit. Since I have been here, a drove of fine-looking cattle from that settlement passed to be sold in the towns below, and a drove of horses is expected this fall. The stock which comes from there is more hardy than can be got anywhere else, and therefore is preferred by the Minnesotans.

ENDING

Line of Fire

2011-11-26T23:26:00.000-06:00

Back in the day, just as now, lawmen worked together between Canada and America. There was less red tape then, although that was there, too. The excerpt below is about one of the early lawmen of our area, this time on the Canadian side of the 49th parallel. He has been mentioned in passing before, in the story of Sheriff Charley Brown. You could say he was Charley's counterpart over the line.

It's fun to learn more of his story, and the context. We're very lucky to have this recounting - I have read that "virtually no documentation was preserved for the MPP"...

The North-West Mounted Police were not the only officers who made life difficult for bad men in the Canadian West. Even before the Mounties arrived on the prairies, the newly formed province of Manitoba organized a small, but effective, police force. The Manitoba Provincial Police began in 1870 with nineteen men. It was operated out of an old Winnipeg post office that was converted to a police station and courthouse. A log house behind the building was used for a jail. The force was poorly funded, so the officers had to provide their own firearms. They had no standard uniform. Within a few years, the department dwindled to a mere eight men. Some constables were dismissed for inappropriate behavior, such as public drunkenness, others resigned to seek better paying employment!

In 1874, Richard Power, a twenty-three-year-old who had become an original member of the force at the age of nineteen, was made Head Constable - the equivalent of Chief of Police. The rapid decline in the force's number was only a part of the reason for this young man's promotion to such a position. Even before joining the MPP, he had allegedly served as a scout for the United States Cavalry. He was also a lieutenant in the Winnipeg militia. Power's contemporaries described him as "a fine looking man, magnificently proportioned, every inch a soldier with the courage that nothing could daunt. Power wore a Colt .45 with a nine-inch barrel, and a gunbelt that was always full of cartridges. Local newspapers called Power "a terror to evildoers." In A few short years, Power had shown himself to be a courageous and enthusiastic policeman. Some thought he might have been too enthusiastic. He had once been sharply reprimanded for shooting a Native during an arrest.

By the time Power took command of the Manitoba Provincial Police, Winnipeg had been incorporated as a city and had its own police department. That left the rest of Manitoba under the eyes of Power and his tiny department. Power strategically placed men in the more populous settlements outside Winnipeg; towns like Selkirk and Kildonan. He kept a few men with him at his headquarters in Winnipeg. Most Manitoba communities had to depend on special constables - civilian volunteers - to keep the peace. If there was any real trouble, Power could send one of his constables out to see to the matter. The policing situation in rural Manitoba was not unlike that of rural Ontario and other points east.

Manitoba, especially the country along the American border, was woefully under-policed, but the situation was same on the other side of the international line in the Dakota Territory. There was a sheriff in Pembina, just over the border, and another many miles away in Fargo. For those lawmen, just looking after their towns was a full-time job. They didn't have the resources, or manpower, to go chasing after the desperadoes who roamed the plains and hills of the Dakota country. Rustlers, gunmen, and other men on the dodge had only to keep out of the Sheriff's way to avoid arrest. With so much open country, that was not a hard thing to do. Moreover, American lawmen were often unwilling to apprehend fugitives wanted in Canada, unless there was a reward involved.

Nonetheless, Power seems to have developed a good working relationship with the sheriffs in Dakota. In October 1873, a Metis named Gilbert Godon killed a man in a drunken brawl at Red River, and then fled to the Dakota Territory. The following June, Godon got into another saloon-wrecking brawl in Pembina, and was tossed into the local jail. The sheriff there held onto Godon until Power could get down and pick him up.

One of the outlaw gangs operating along the border was a band of horse thieves, led by a man named Edward Courture. His bunch had a hideout south of Pembina, within easy striking distance of the border. Under the cover of night they would slip across the line to raid farms and ranches in Manitoba, The outlaws would drive the stolen horses down into the Dakota Territory and sell them off. Quite likely, as they squandered their ill-gotten gains in the saloons of small Dakota towns, the outlaws enjoyed a good laugh at the inability of American and Canadian law officers to interfere with their business.

Early in September 1874, Chief Constable Power received a message from F.T. Bradley, Justice of the Peace and Customs Officer in Emerson, a Manitoba village just across the line from Pembina. Bradley had information that one Edward Martin, a rider with the Courture Gang, was heading north to visit relatives in Manitoba. On the morning of September 7, Power rode out of Winnipeg accompanied by a constable named Heusons. Power was sure Martin would come along the stagecoach road that followed the meandering course of the Red River. Forty-three miles south of Winnipeg, the two policemen stopped at a stagecoach station called Scratching River (now Morris, Manitoba). Darkness had fallen, so they left their horses with a farmer and settled in to watch the road. They did not have to wait long.

Edward Martin soon rode into view, astride a stolen horse. With him as a fellow horse thief named Charles Garden. The two Manitoba policemen took the outlaws completely by surprise and without gunplay. Power grabbed Martin's horse by the bridle , and Heusens seized Garden by the leg. Power told the pair to dismount, and they meekly obeyed.

Because it was late, Power decided to keep his prisoners at the stagecoach station overnight, and then take them to Winnipeg in the morning. He told Garden to help Constable Heusens take care of the horses. Then he began walking Martin towards the station building. But Edward Martin had no intention of going to jail.

At the doorway of the station, Martin suddenly wheeled around and threw himself at Power, knocking him off balance. The outlaw pulled a revolver and fired at Power from point-blank range. Amazingly, the bullet missed! Before Martin could cock the weapon for a second shot, Power recovered his footing and grappled with the desperado. By now they had tumbled through the door and were inside the stations.

When Charles Garden heard the shot, he bolted for the station house. Constable Heusens was right on his heels. Garden burst into the room in which his partner was struggling with Power, and knocked a lantern off a table. The room was thrown into darkness. Garden pulled a hunting knife from his boot and turned to meet Heusens. He might as well have tried to fight a grizzle bear with a toothpick. Constable Heusens was a big, muscular man, and his one thought was for the safety of Chief Constable Power. Heusens tossed the knife-wielding Garden aside like a rag doll. Then he groped in the darkness, trying to go to Power's aid.

Martin managed to fire off two more wild shots. The bullets hit no one, but the sound of gunfire put Garden to flight. The terrified outlaw hauled himself up from the floor where Heusens had thrown him, and ran into the night.

Power finally had a chance to pull his big Colt .45. At that moment, Power could have blown Martin to kingdom come, and no one would have blamed him. Instead, he told Martin to drop his gun. Facing that small cannon, the outlaw did as he was told.

Power left Heusens to watch Martin while he went after Garden. In the darkness he heard a noise from the direction of the corral. He briefly caught sight of a figure running away. Power fired a short, and heard a stifled roan of pain. He didn't bother to go searching for the fugitive in the dark. If Garden had been hit, he was likely to get very far.

The next morning the two officers found blood on the ground near the corral. Power sent Martin back to Winnipeg in Heusens' charge, then rode out after Garden. He trailed the outlaw to a settlers shack where the horse thief had sought attention for the bullet wound in his leg.

Power took Garden to Winnipeg in a wagon. He had a doctor treat the wounded leg, then locked Garden in the Winnipeg jail, where Martin was already a reluctant guest.

The capture of Marti and Garden would have worried Ed Couture; not so much because of the loss of the two riders - saddle tramps like them were a dime a dozen - but because Martin and Garden might be made to talk, one way or another, about the activities of other gang members. However, Martin, who evidently had some skill with locks, decided that he didn't want to stay in a Canadian jail.

On the night of October 1, Ed Martin and a prisoner named Charles Bigeral broke out of the Winnipeg jail. Charles Garden was left behind, probably because of his bad leg. Power didn't learn of the escape until the following morning. He found that Martin had picked a total of five locks to get himself and Bigeral from the cells to the street.

A known Couture gang member named Rogers had been seen in Winnipeg, loitering near the jail. Power was certain he had been awaiting the escapees with horses and a change of clothes. He knew he wouldn't have much chance of catching the fugitives before they crossed the border, so he telegraphed information of the jailbreak to sheriffs in the Dakotas and Minnesota. On October 23, Martin and Rogers were arrested by American lawmen near Glyndon, Minnesota. The deputies also recovered several stolen horses that the outlaws had with them. The other escapee, Bigeral, had long since split from the others, and was not found.

Ed Martin was locked in the jail in Moorhead, Minnesota, to await extradition to Canada. The Sheriff put him in leg irons and had an extra lock put on his cell door, but this horse-rustling Houdini was not ready to accept the idea of a long prison term. He knew that he would be kept under close watch for awhile, but that sooner or later the guard would be relaxed and he would get his chance.

The opportunity came months later, on the night of May 5, 1875. Martin easily picked both locks on his cell door, and then used the keys he found in the Sheriff's desk to get out of his leg irons. Instead of boldly walking out to the street, where he might be recognized, Martin cut a hole in a wall, crawled out to an alleyway, and escaped.

Ed Martin was now a wanted man on both side of the border. He headed for the Canadian line, but was caught at Sioux Falls, South Dakota [Note from Trish - This makes no sense if he was in Moorhead; to get to Sioux Falls, he would have been heading south, not back towards Canada...] This time, an American court sentenced him to a long prison term. Martins days of stealing horses in Manitoba were over.

The Manitoba Provincial Police pose for a group photo at
Rat Portage, 1883. Four MPP officers died in the line of duty,
including Chief Richard Power.
[Source: Archives of Manitoba, N271]

That was also the end of the line for the Ed Couture Gang. American and Canadian police now had enough evidence to round up the rest of the horse thieves. Courture himself was arrested and taken to Winnipeg, where he stood trial on June 14, 1875. He managed to escape jail, but his gang was finished.

- Source: "Line of Fire: Heroism, Tragedy, and Canada's Police", by Edward Butts

¹ - During his career as Chief Constable, Power escaped death twice: in September 1874, when he was shot at while making an arrest in Scratching River (Morris), and again in 1879 when the gun belonging to a man he was trying to arrest at Kildonan misfired. In 1880, his luck ran out and Chief Power became the first provincial police officer killed in the line of duty. While he was returning an escaped prisoner from St. Boniface (who he was handcuffed to), the prisoner started to deliberately rock the boat and the occupants were thrown into the Red River. Both men drowned. Power's body lay in state at the Provincial Court House and his funeral was one of the largest that Winnipeggers had ever seen. The procession wound through the streets of Winnipeg and after services were held, he was interred in St. Charles Cemetery next to his father, Manitoba's first official jailer. From "Manitoba's Finest" (Manitoba History, June 2006) and "Rough times, 1870-1920 : a souvenir of the 50th anniversary of the Red River Expedition and the formation of the Province of Manitoba" by Joseph F. Tennant (1920)

Hill Farms

2011-11-19T17:24:00.000-06:00

Co-Workers of my Grandpa Fitzpatrick at
Humboldt Hill Farm: 'Illegal' Canadians?

We often hear about illegal aliens working in America nowadays. We normally think of them as coming from Mexico, South America, or even refugees that have entered the country illegally.

This problem is nothing new. About a century ago, Kittson County Sheriffs faced the same problem, except the illegal aliens were coming from the north - Canada. The irony of it is, manpower was in short supply in the local area, and these Canadian men were more than willing to work, yet the law sought to kick them out back to Canada.

In two cases involving Canadian employees on the Red River Valley estates, Hill tried and failed to leverage support from Minnesota's former governor, Senator Knut Nelson. The first problem began in 1913 when Walter Hill, at his father's insistence, hired a Canadian veterinarian recommended by Thomas Shaw and ran into problems with the Immigration Bureau. In March 1914 James Hill wrote to Nelson, asking him to intervene, but with no success. A similar conflict arose in 1915 on Hill's bonanza estate at Humboldt, which had remained primarily a productive wheat farm, raising extensive crops under hired management. In 1915 problems emerged with the farm's traditional Canadian labor force when the sheriff arrived in the middle of harvest and "took away four...shockers." They were charged as illegal aliens, but Hill's manager asserted that the men had been working on the farm without trouble for fifteen years. Hill again turned to Senator Nelson for help, but despite his protestations, the men were deported back to Canada. Hill did not let the matter rest. He asserted that immigration officials aimed to "make fees" by bothering "a number of poor men who...are trying to earn a living." The acting secretary of labor. J.B. Densmore, corrected Hill, pointing out that the agents did not profit from arrests; he then closed the case and refused to make further inquiries. Thus, by 1915 Hill's political influence had virtually vanished. Without the muscle of the railroad and with few federal connections, Hill found himself in the uncomfortable role of a private citizen...

From Profiting from the plains: the Great Northern Railway By Claire Strom

Two men my Grandpa Fitzpatrick worked with at
the Hill Farm in Humboldt, in the early 1900's...

"James J. Hill Banished his Errant Son to Kittson County"
by Ruth Hammond
Minneapolis Tribune / October 7, 1978

Northcote, Minn. - Marva and Byron Hanson's farm is only a shadow of what it once was. The great wooden doors are so weathered they've been painted over. The 20-yard swimming pool is cracked and empty. Buttons to summon the butler or maid are covered with rugs. And the two tiled fireplaces upstairs are shut off because the four downstairs are sufficient. Not only that, but the Hanson family corporation owns a mere 5,000 acres while the estate's original owner owned 50,000.

The owner was railroad magnate James J. Hill, who built the farm six miles north of Hallock, Minn., for his 30-year-old son, Walter J. Hill, in 1912 (it was built for only $49,000.) The "Empire Builder" wanted to get his son "out of St. Paul because he was such a tycoon." Marva Hanson, 55, said "of course, he was a tycoon up here, too." Local historians say Walter Hill simply transported his parties from St. Paul to Northcote via his father's "line of rust."

Trivia: Ed Cameron from St. Vincent, was the principal builder and contractor for the original Hill Estate in Northcote. Ed and his crew were responsible for the barns, bunkhouses, and other outbuildings, which were built in 1911.

Hill Farm in 1930s
[Click to Enlarge]

After moving to the home 12 years ago, Marva found an old photograph of the farm behind a radiator. Some of the structures in the photo are still standing; others have been moved or destroyed. The two grain elevators that belonged to the farm, are now owned by the Northcote Farmers' Co-op Association. They stand on Highway 75 near Northcote and are called Hill Siding, a name confusing to the uninformed because there is not a hill in sight.

Just west of the elevators is the old Hill mansion. One drives up to it from the back; in the front yard are towering pines and the north branch of Two Rivers. Beyond the well-kept yard are the farm's original slaughterhouse, barn, and two 85-foot tall cement silos. The silos were the largest in the world until some larger ones were built in Germany in the 1960's. The Hill farm's power plant, water tower, foreman's residence, bunkhouse and workers' cottages are gone.

...The elder Hill thought this bonanza farm, stocked with cattle imported from Scotland, would satisfy Walter's need for adventure [it did not]...Walter sought to meet other needs in the taverns of nearby Northcote. After imbibing one night, he walked home through the sticky gumbo and arrived at his farm, mud-covered from head to foot. "I don't know what you're going to do or how you're going to do it," he reputedly announced to the world, "but we're going to have a sidewalk from here to Northcote." The next day, he borrowed 30 men from his father's railroad and they laid a sidewalk of railroad ties.

Walter Hill: He hunted from his car, raced his draft horses in the streets of St. Vincent, and drank mightily.

Walter Hill was a "a goer, or someone vibrant for life," Hanson said. He hunted from his car, raced his draft horses in the streets of St. Vincent, and drank mightily. Before the fall harvest, he used to attach a hay-rack to the back of his car and go to Bronson, Minn., searching for labor. Men eager for jobs climbed onto the hay-rack and Hill drove them home in his usual manner. "By the time he got back to the farm, there would be only one man left," Hanson said. The rest had humped out along the way in fear for their lives.

On the night of May 28, 1916, Walter got word that his father was dying. He summoned the family train kept at Noyes, eight miles north, and rode through the night to reach the old man's deathbed. Walter left he farm within months of James J. Hill's death, leading to speculation that he had only stayed there to please his father. Walter Hill was never heard from in the area again...he died out west in 1944.

"The extensive (Humboldt) Hill farm, comprising about 15,000 acres in Hill and St. Vincent Townships, was sold during the summer of 1917, in 127 parts, to make small farms for settlers." - From Minnesota Place Names, by Warren Upham

The Hill farm was divided and sold. The estate passed through several hands over the years and even stood empty for awhile. "In 1932, my father chased sheep out of the fireplace," Marva Hanson said. Someone stole six Tiffany carnival glass shades, worth $300.00 apiece in 1931, from the living room.

M.J. Florance, president of the State Bank of Hallock, Minn., owned the house during the late 1930s and 1940s. He had more than 13,000 acres and employed 250 men during his busiest season. Marva Hanson, who grew up in nearby Humboldt, said she babysat at the home as a girl. "To me it was just a big house," she said, nothing special.

Byron and Marva Hanson eventually bought the farm in 1966. Some of the features of the home - 9-inch thick cement walls covered in plaster, ceiling moldings that pictures hang from, hand-pained files in bedroom fireplaces, ornate chandeliers, marble showers, ornate woodwork, etc.

As of 2011, Kate Hanson their daughter - who lives in St. Paul, Minnesota - still owns the property...

Homestead

2011-11-09T08:18:00.001-06:00

Homestead, from Trish Short Lewis Collection
Elizabeth & Albert Fizpatrick, circa 1906

These are my grandparents, Elizabeth and Albert Fitzpatrick, standing outside the home they built as newlyweds. This is the same house my Mom grew up in, then my sisters and I, and even (briefly, for 1.5 years) my two kids, many years ago.

I am grateful to my cousin Delphine for sharing the photograph from my grandparents' 50th Wedding Anniversary collection. She told me:

I still remember the house after they built that porch on it that went around 2 sides of the house. We use to love to run around on that porch...

My great grandparents came first to St. Vincent - the Fitzpatricks and the Fitzgeralds. Through marriage, my grandparents brought the two families together. They built their first home together in the "farm district" (the image above shows them standing in front of it shortly after completion...) After showing the photo to several people from the area, I received some informative feedback and memories, including this one from Mike Rustad:

Liz Fitzpatrick,
Practical Nurse

Leona Gooselaw Hemmes...said that your Grandmother was a very therapeutic person, an excellent cook, and was a wonderful conversationalist. It was a good thing, too because women in her birthing facility stayed a minimum of six days and sometimes longer. Your grandmother, in Leona's words, was a wonderful woman who assuaged the fears and raised the hopes of mothers...

That definitely sounds like my Grandma. She loved people, having them around her, sharing a good meal with them, sharing good conversation and a laugh or two.

Cheer(io) the Crow

2011-11-06T14:54:00.000-06:00

Nancy gives Cheer a treat...
[Diamond Family Collection]

I recently posted a story about a crow who was raised by humans, and therefore had an unusual relationship with them and the the other residents of their small town. I wondered, did anyone have a photo of him? Turns out, someone did...

Growing up in a farm community it was not common for people to have actual pets. We had several dogs and one was Dennis’s pet and there were always cats in the barn.

When I was about 10, Dennis and Mickey Boatz robbed a crow’s nest up at the north farm and came home with three baby crows. Dennis, Marlys and I adopted them, and kept them in a small wooden chicken cage in the yard. We hand-fed them a diet of raw liver and dry food. I named mine “Cheer” because he loved to eat Cheerios cereal. Cheer was the only one that survived.
When he got big enough to fly he roamed the town of Humboldt and actually got to be a pest. He learned to peck on windows and wake people up as he was ready for food. Janine Rustad has a photo of him sitting on her playpen and he would steal her food. So Dad decided we needed to remove him from town. We captured him and he took him back to the north farm and let him go. I remember being so upset about losing my pet.

Well, Cheer beat Dad back to town!! He would sometimes come when I called his name and land on my head. They are a pretty large bird when full grown so you knew he was sitting on your head.

I was concerned how he would survive the winter but he met with an accident late that fall and died. I have fond memories of my pet crow and a summer of adventure in Humboldt.

Nancy

Cheer the Crow pays a visit to little Jamie Rustad
[October 1956 - Rustad Family Collection]

Lake Stella Revisited

2011-11-02T08:32:00.000-05:00

Lake Stella as sunset approaches
[Courtesy: Jamie Rustad Meagher]

Sunset on Lake Stella
[Courtesy: Jamie Rustad Meagher]

Day's end at Lake Stella, looking west towards the Red River...
[Courtesy: Jamie Rustad Meagher]

St. Vincent Over the Years: Demographics

2011-10-28T14:22:00.000-05:00

St. Vincent 1900 Census - William Ash, Enumerator
[Click to enlarge]

Census Population Counts:

1880 - 489

1890 - 507

1900 - 256

1910 - 328

1920 - 343

1930 - 304

1940 - 327

1950 - 272

1960 - 217

1970 - 177

1980 - 141

1990 - 116

I don't remember where I ran across the census figures for St. Vincent through the years, but since then I have often wondered why the dramatic decrease in population from 1890 to 1900, compared to other fluctuations up or down? It definitely wasn't because of crop failures; according to this source record from the time, things were going well in that department:

Having heard that crops were poor outside the Red River valley and that many would leave as soon as threshing was over, 1 walked and drove through Pembina, Walsh, Cavalier and Towner counties, North Dakota, and Kittson county, Minnesota, but found that generally the farmers in that vicinity were not suffering, and that their yield was so much better for 1890 than in preceding years that most of them would remain. - From Sessional Papers of the Parliament of the Dominion of Canada, Vol. 4.

After that, there are changes both up and down fairly steady for a half century, then when 1960 hits, the steady decline began.

According to Rural Depopulation, the region in which St. Vincent is located - the Great Plains - has been experiencing depopulation "...more prevalent and more severe" than in any other region in the United States. In fact, the Great Plains is "...home to 304 of the country's 662 depopulating rural counties." On top of that, "...populations in rural counties in the Great Plains are significantly smaller than populations in...other depopulating regions, and the population density (people per square mile) is substantially less." That last statistic is the most disheartening, because low population makes viability of more and more small communities impossible.

Whatever the cause, the Great Plains of which we are a part, has been at a crossroads for a long time. People living here recognized this, and have been working hard to find new ways to keep their communities alive and healthy. Are we headed towards becoming the American Outback? Only time will tell...

Profile: Ruth Younggren

2011-10-23T17:35:00.000-05:00

Ruth Younggren, a first grade teacher of poor children in Minnesota, yearly spent the first two weeks teaching the sounds of English and their corresponding letters. Then through the year, she taught 50 spelling words each morning to her first graders. These first graders were not only good spellers, they were excellent readers and creative writers...

- From How it Began

Ruth Younggren - or Miss Younggren as I knew her - has always been a person in my childhood memories that revives uncomfortable feelings in me. She was a teacher who made strong demands on very young children. Many children thrived on her challenges and literally blossomed.

However, even at the time, I instinctively knew she was being very unfair to certain classmates of mine. If you were intelligent and were willing to work hard, she loved you. If you had trouble understanding and didn't know how to ask for help...if you were shy and couldn't ask for help...then you might find yourself humiliated.

Miss Younggren used.
among other things,
the Dunce Cap, as
'motivation' ...

I personally witnessed a fellow classmate be repeatedly denied permission to go to the lavatory. He ended up urinating his pants while sitting at his desk, desperately trying not to. Another time, a classmate tore her dress on the playground; instead of finding a less embarrassing solution, Miss Younggren made her remove her dress so she could mend it while the girl sat at her desk in her underwear, arms crossed and head down.

Some reading this may ask, why bring this up years later? My answer: While talking about this now can't help the children affected back then, it is important to acknowledge what happened, to shed light on dark events. I have often felt bad for those who had to go through that, while I did not. There were a couple of times I had to endure a lecture from Old Man Carelessness and stand in the corner, and once I even sat on a stool in the hallway for all to see, wearing the dreaded dunce cap. It didn't permanent scar me, and I actually was one of the top students in the class. But for the others who were literally humiliated, I felt bad.

It was a time where old practices still tenuously held on, but were soon to change. I experienced a bit of the old, as many reading this might have, too.

Humboldt Stories: Cheer(ios) the Crow

2011-10-20T16:43:00.000-05:00

The other day, I mentioned crows, which brought up some interesting responses. My cousin told me how our Grandpa and Grandma Fitzpatrick had a pet crow of sorts that lived on the farm. Someone had split its tongue so it could talk. It wasn't kept captive, but hung around the farm, picking up human speech, and evidently would spout off some phrases once and awhile. That sparked a memory from Mike Rustad...

We love crows in Vermont too. They are intelligent, loyal, and wonderful birds. I love them and feed them! Ever since the Diamond's crow Cheer (named because he like Cheerios) graced our life, I've loved crows. He was an amazing pet crow that would sometimes take crackers from my baby sister's hand. Very gently. But Harvey Diamond had a lot of neighbor complaints and decided to drive Cheer out into the country. He shed a tear, but never fear - When he returned to his home in Humboldt, Cheer was waiting for him. Cheer lived a long life, but died in a tragic accident. He would perch on the Diamond's children's playhouse. One day a burst of wind caused the window to fall on Cheer and he was killed instantly. I remember crying because I lost a my dear bird friend.

St. Vincent Promoter: Col. Fisk

2011-10-14T02:00:00.000-05:00

Who was Col. Fisk?

Try as I might, I have not been able to find out anything definitive about the mysterious 'Colonel Fisk' mentioned in old newspapers and even in histories of St. Vincent. He appears to have been an early resident during the boom times, perhaps a land speculator. Having recently been watching Deadwood again, I imagine him as St. Vincent's version of Al Swearengen, sans the murderous tendencies. However, there is some speculation that he may have been Colonel James L. Fisk.

That said, the Fisk Family Papers state:

Born ca. 1835, the eldest of the Fisk brothers, James Liberty Fisk, is noted primarily for organizing and leading emigrant expeditions from Minnesota to Montana, 1862-1866, using the "Northern Route." ... James was editor of the Helena Herald for a period in 1867 and was also active in the Montana militia. Withdrawing from the newspaper, he later promoted various projects in Montana, Dakota, Minnesota, and Washington. He died at the Minnesota Soldiers Home in Minneapolis in 1902.

Until I find out otherwise, my guess for the
likely identity of St. Vincent's Col. Fisk, is
the man pictured above - James L. Fisk.

Honoring the Past in Art

2011-10-10T21:16:00.000-05:00

Hallock, 2010 - Beau Bakken creates mural on side of
his parents' business based on an old photograph...

Hallock, 1910 - Note the building on right, midway down
with same balcony on it as recreated in the 2010 mural...

Hallock, 1911 - A year later, this photograph is a nice, clear shot
of the same street; on left, far down is building with balcony...

Fire Escape Slide

2011-10-05T12:21:00.000-05:00

Fire escape slide on west side of St. Vincent School
[Courtesy of: Cleo Bee Jones]

I am not sure when the fire escape was put in, but laws were proposed to mandate them by the state as early as the late 1880s.

The type of slide St. Vincent installed was a metal slide/chute, the type commonly installed in the 1930s...

Another shot of fire escape slide - Many times I crawled up it in
bare feet - metal hot -during summer breaks, just to slide down!
[From the Jamie Rustad Meagher Collection]

School District No. 2

2011-09-24T22:45:00.000-05:00

"HISSSSssss..." - I remember well
the sounds of the radiators...

After writing about the St. Vincent School recently, I remembered coming across a mention once of it being assigned as District No. 2 under the early state education system. I got curious, and went looking for more information...

According to an historical essay:

School District No. 2 was organized in 1880... Its north boundary was the Canadian border; the west boundary was the Red River. It extended south along the Red River six miles, east from the river four miles. A schoolhouse was built in St. Vincent...

St. Vincent School closed around 1977, after a crack in the boiler was found¹. The cost to repair or replace it was prohibitive, so a hard decision was made to close the school, combining some lower grades in the Humboldt elementary. It was the end of Humboldt-St. Vincent consolidation in name; consolidation in fact continued until even Humboldt closed.

¹ - The school was still using the same coal-fired, central boiler/radiator system they had been using when I attended the school...!

The Perils of Rev. Appleby

2011-09-17T14:47:00.000-05:00

Rev. Appleby circa 1890
Photographer: W. H. Stalee
[Minnesota Historical Society]

From the records left behind, it's clear that life could be difficult in the late 1800's on the frontiers, including here in Minnesota. Even for pioneers of the Christian churches. As with any group, there were good and bad 'men of the cloth'.

St. Vincent was fortunate to have one of the good ones. After working with Ojibwa groups in the region, he was assigned to our parish.

During his time in St. Vincent, there were many practical difficulties he had to contend with...

St. Vincent's Mission, which is in charge of the Rev. H.M.V. Appleby, is the most northern in the United States. It covers one county in Minnesota, one in Dakota, and has three outside stations involving journeys of thirty-four and forty-six miles respectively. The difficulties met with by one traversing the region reminds one of the perils of St. Paul. "Our work is most fatiguing, both in winter and summer;" observes the missionary, "Three times in my experience has my horse sunk through the ice and both myself and he been nearly lost. At different times I have been lost all night, and once my horse rolled down the embankment at the end of a bridge, plunging us both into the river, though without injury. Five times I have been nearly lost in open boat and canoe."

Yet, notwithstanding all this, the personal inconvenience is greatly outweighed by the warm welcome, earnest inquiries after the Truth, and the deep regrets at having been so long deprived of the Church's service. Two new churches are needed immediately in northern Dakota, pressing debts of $1,300.00 burden the mission in Minnesota, and for all the sum of $3,000.00 is needed by Bishop Whipple and the Rev. Appleby, in order that this important work be not abandoned. - Report on Minnesota, May 29, 1886 [The Churchman, Volume 53]

His impact was felt for years after he left, and is reflected in this article...

The Venerable Archdeacon Appleby¹ assisted at the service, and his well remembered face, and soft English voice, that, for so many years, was, each succeeding Sabbath, listened to from the pulpit, will never be forgotten by his old parishioners. Here it was that he and his Christian lady reared their interesting family; he knows every one of us, and his worth is known after he has left us. - Excerpt from article concerning Christ Church Harvest Festival, held December 4, 1891 [St. Vincent New Era²]

¹ - Thomas Henry Montague Villiers Appleby, Episcopal clergyman, b. in Regent's Park, Eng., Oct 28, 1843; was educated as a physician and priest in England; came to America in 1866; was rector in St. Vincent, Minn., 1881-1888; was appointed archdeacon of Minnesota in 1888, and of North Dakota in 1898; and general superintendent of Indian missions 1900, residing in Duluth...

While serving in St. Vincent's Christ Church, he also served in the capacity of Kittson County probate judge...

² - William Deacon, who owned and published the St. Vincent New Era until 1913 (after which the DeFrance family took over...), died in 1920 at age 83. Mr. Deacon was many things to St. Vincent, as well as being great grandfather to Margaret "Toots" Ryan, my grandmother's neighbor and good friend - Sources include The Fourth Estate [August 21, 1920]; Ryan Family page [Red River Valley website]

Farmer's Store

2011-09-08T02:00:00.000-05:00

Farmer's Store in Hallock (1910). Note tea chest on left...
[Photo Credit: Minnesota Historical Society]

My Mom and I often shopped at the old Farmer's store in downtown Hallock in the 1960's and 1970's. Even then, it was somewhat of a general store, having a dry goods area where we would sometimes buy fabric and notions for sewing projects. It still had the wood floors, and the high tin ceiling...

The Kittson County Farmers Co-operative Mercantile Company of Hallock, Minnesota, was incorporated in 1904. The intent of the farmers who organized the company was to cooperatively own and operate “a general mercantile, trading, shipping, forwarding, and commission business; [to engage in] buying, selling, exchanging, and dealing in all kinds of farm produce, supplies, implements, machinery, and other articles of merchandise incidental or necessary in operating and conducting a general store; [and] to buy and sell as much real estate as is reasonably necessary in conducting its business.” The “Farmers Store,” as it was commonly known, began by purchasing the inventory, frame building, and adjacent lots of a general merchandise store owned by C.J. McCollom.

In 1914 the store needed larger quarters, and a second public corporation, the Farmers Building Company, was formed to finance and manage a new building. A two-story, brick structure was built in 1915 on the site of the original store. The Kittson County Farmers Co-operative Mercantile Company rented space in the building from the Farmers Building Company, as did other businesses and individuals.¹

In 1956 the Kittson County Farmers Co-operative Mercantile Company and the Farmers Building Company merged to become the Farmers Store of Hallock, Inc., a privately owned corporation.

Source: Minnesota State University Moorhead Archives

¹ - After posting this, a reader mentioned that a great aunt lived in an apartment over the store for several years...

Back to School, 1903

2011-09-04T14:31:00.001-05:00

St. Vincent Classroom, circa 1903: My great uncle Charlie is the boy
against the window shade in the far back, on right; my great aunt
Hannah is to his left - our right - in front of him, hair in bun...

I recently posted about the St. Vincent School.

After that post, a cousin of mine discovered this interior shot of the school that her Grandmother - my great aunt - had in her personal collection.

Amongst the room full of children, are two relatives of mine - my great uncle Charlie Fitzpatrick, and my great aunt Hannah Fitzpatrick.

When Hannah graduated high school, she went on to attend teacher's
college, which at that time was the state normal school in Moorhead, MN
(now known as Minnesota State University Moorhead) - Class of 1913...
[Click to enlarge]

Triggered Memories

2011-09-01T23:00:00.000-05:00

I received an email from Michael Rustad saying my recent post about P.N. Tri brought back some memories of his own, and that he hoped those reading the posts here will share with me any such triggered memories they may have. That's always been one of my hopes, that people reading these memories and histories, will share their own memories and histories of this little corner of the world.

PN Tri was a major figure in the history of Humboldt and St. Vincent. I did not know that he was the first advisor to the Humboldt Stick to It Club.

"Incoming!"
I belonged to the Stick to It Club and it was one of the best 4H clubs in N.W. Minnesota. We had great leadership. Marian Anderson from Humboldt won the state 4H dress making competition and was crowned at the State Farm. Dennis Diamond was a consistent State Farm prize winner. We had so many innovative parent and teacher advisors over the years. Earl and Beatrice Bahr helped us immensely when they built our equivalent of the Diamond of Dreams on their farm. Earl mowed a field so we could practice for our 4H softball team. The year was 1965 and Humboldt's Stick to It 4H club was a powerhouse softball team. It was boys and girls who played. Dee Dee Diamond played on that team on the girl's side. My brother Tony and I were the stars of the team. We were the home run hitters, the ringers of the team. Tony and I practiced softball daily. We would pitch to each other and invented a game. A home run was when we hit it over the barn with a towering drive. A double was a hit into the chicken wire. The chickens soon learned that they were to go in the barn when we played. We never hit a single chicken despite many hits into the chicken's yard.
A triple was a hit into the corral. The cows were slow moving but even they knew that it was time to go to the pasture during batting practice. We counted a triple when the ball was hit near the pond. We treated balls in the pond as foul balls to discourage either of us from hitting in that direction. Ground rule doubles were hits off the barn. By the end of the summer, we had taken out a window or two so my Dad helped us by nailing durable screens over the most accessible windows. Our Stick-to-It Team just rolled over the competition. We beat Lancaster's club by 18-4. We next took on a club whose membership was from rural Hallock and we rolled over them as well. No game was close until the County Championship. We had been on a long family vacation to Colorado and came home in the nick o time to participate in the 4H championship between two unbeaten clubs, the Kennedy 4Hers and Humboldt. The game was played at Lake Bronson at a diamond specially made at the state park. Our team which had the Wiese cousins, the Rustad brothers, the Diamond girls, Jay Hoglin, Lee Jerome, et al. took the field. The Kennedy players were in professional uniforms and Scott Matthews (who grew up in Humboldt) had all of his boys playing for the Kennedy Team. Scott played ball himself until his mid fifties and was the greatest baseball player in the history of the upper Northwest. His boys were excellent players. Jon played later for the UND Sioux and was a fine pitcher. Ron, too, was a college player briefly and a sure-footed runner and fielder. Darryl played as did several of the younger Matthew boys. The Kennedy team just crushed us. The score was more like a football score 25-7. Tony and I did hit home runs but it was too little, too late. We had so many errors in the field that led to a rout. Our fielding was not up to par. No one came through in that game but we did Stick-to-It. I remember my Dad trying to console Tony and I but we learned about the agony of defeat and the perils of too much confidence. Tony and I always blamed our family vacation for taking us out of practice but the chickens and cows were eternally grateful for the respite from the constant bombardment of softballs into their living space.

What else do I remember about 4H? The earliest advisor I remember was Lois Gatheridge, who had assistance from Violet and Ginny Wiese and Bea Bahr. We proudly wore our 4H club pin. It was a white pin with the four leaf clover. A green four leaf clover with a white "H" on each leaf. The four H's stand for: head, heart, hands and health. The 4-H Motto: To Make the Best Better. All former members will remember our colors: Green and White and our 4-H pledge:

I Pledge:

My Head to Clearer Thinking,

My Heart to Greater Loyalty,

My Hands to Larger Service,

My Health to Better Living,

for My Club (the Stick to It)

We met in the Humboldt school and there were always lunches made by the Mothers. In the late 1950s and 1960s, days fathers never made lunch or even bars, but they did advise us on raising livestock and gave talks on how to do 4-H projects. I never would have attempted 4-H projects like my insect collection without guidance.

I remember that in 1961 we had a membership drive for the Stick-to-It Club. We had helium balloons with post cards addressed to club members. We released the helium balloons near the school woods. The winner was the 4H club member that had the most post cards returned. It was a great spectacle to see all of those balloons released and we were so excited by the competition. I do not remember who won, but I do remember that the Stick-to-It had a large club. In those days, we had some large families in town and outside of town too. The Diamonds were all in 4Hs as were the Gatheridges, the Wieses, and of course the Baldwins. We were a civic-oriented town and I think 4H reinforced those values. I remember that I had an insect collection that I showed at the Hallock Fair and received a red ribbon. I showed sheep at both the St. Vincent fair and Hallock fair. My mentor for everything about sheep was Dennis Diamond who showed me tricks in showing sheep. I had some of the largest sheep in the county but they were badly behaved. I could never get them to prance or even walk beside me. My fear was that they would break away. Dennis taught me how to groom them and prepare them for competition. I never placed highly in livestock shows, but I did learn a certain discipline from raising livestock for 4-H projects. I was responsible for the animals from an early age (10 or so), so I was experienced in caring for animals. Caring for them and showing them in livestock shows were two different things!

Justice in Old Pembina

2011-08-30T21:51:00.000-05:00

The story I'm about to share has been shared here before. While the first version was full of character (based on solid research), this one has more background as well as details regarding the final showdown...

An outlaw from an infamous gang. A U.S. Marshall on his trail all the way from Texas. Their paths meet in Pembina on a cold November day in 1878...

James Benjaminson

Sam Bass gang - Sam in back, on
left; in front, the Collins bros.
William is on left, Joel on right.
[circa 1877]

In theannals of western outlawry, certain names have been etched into the Americanpsyche – names such as Jesse and Frank James, the Younger Brothers, Billy theKid, Black Bart and Sam Bass, just to name a few. For the most part, their villainous exploitstook place in parts of the country far remote from rural North Dakota. Theclosest any of them got to North Dakotawas the James Gangs ill-fated attempt at robbing the bank in Northfield, Minnesota and the Bass gangs robbing ofseven stage coaches in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Still, the effect of one outlaw’s exploitsrippled to the tiny town of Pembina,Dakota Territory in 1878.

Sam Basswas a young Texas outlaw whoheadquartered himself in Denton, Texas. Teamed up with the outlaw Joel Collins andfour others, the Bass gang staged the largest train robbery in U.S. history (atthe time) when they held up the Union Pacific railroad at a tiny watering holecalled Big Springs, Nebraska on the evening of September 18, 1877. Although Bass was considered leader of thegang, law enforcement claimed Joel Collins was the brains of the outfit. The gang rode into the stop over, madehostages of the station master and several others in the vicinity, cut thetelegraph lines and waited. When thetrain pulled in for water, one gang member swung himself into the cab of thelocomotive and took the engineer and fireman hostage while the others headedfor the baggage car.

When theyrode off into the night, the gang had relieved the railroad of $60,000 infreshly minted 1877 twenty dollar gold pieces. Dividing up the treasure, each man had 500 gold coins in his possession– about 35 pounds of gold per gang member. The group split into three groups of two men, each heading in adifferent direction. Word spread fastabout the robbery and law enforcement swooped in on the area. One of the gang members disappeared and wasnever heard of again (many assumed he had gone to Canada). Joel Collins and his partner didn’t fare aswell, being intercepted by a posse within days. After a brief shoot-out, both outlaws were dead and $20,000 of the goldcoins were recovered.

Bass andhis partner figured two lone riders would be suspicious so they acquired abuggy, stashed the coins under the seat and rode blissfully by the bands of lawofficers they encountered. Returning to Denton,Bass enjoyed the high life, spending freely and enjoying a local sort of heroworship. He had plenty of friends towarn him of approaching trouble and knowing the area like the back of his hand,he could easily hide from pursuers. Living the high life the money soon ran out and Bass returned to his oldways. Organizing a new gang, he returnedto robbing trains. Only this time hechose to hit the local railroads – his gang robbing four trains in quicksuccession within a 25 mile radius of his base of operation. It was at this point the locals turned on himand his gang. For seven weeks, the gangwas pursued by a company of Texas Rangers, U.S.Marshals and local law enforcement, all to no avail (although an accomplice, “Arkansas”Johnson, was killed in a skirmish from which the rest of the gang escaped).

Bass’downfall came at the hands of a spy that infiltrated the gang – and by gangmember Jim Murphy who betrayed him in exchange for having charges droppedagainst himself and his father. Thefatal day came when the gang rode into Round Rock, Texasintent on robbing the local bank. Layingin wait were the Texas Rangers and local law enforcement. In a brief bloody shootout, one deputysheriff was killed as was one of the outlaws. Bass himself was wounded but managed to clamber onto to his horse andride away. The trailing posse found himthe next day, lying under a tree, still alive but mortally wounded. Death came to Sam Bass July 21, 1878 – it was his 27^thbirthday.

Of theparticipants in the April 10^th train robbery at Mesquite, Texas, six of the eight robbers had eitherbeen killed or were in prison by the time of Bass’ death. The robbery had netted each of the banditsthe paltry sum of $23 each! One of thegang – William Collins, was arrested days after the robbery and taken to Austinto stand trial. He was moved to the jailin Dallas in June where a familyfriend posted a $15,000 bond to secure his appearance in court—a date he didnot intend to keep.

A brother to outlaw Joel Collins who hadparticipated in the earlier Big Springs train robbery, William Collins jumpedbail and headed north, roaming across several states before eventually endingup in Pembina, Dakota Territory working as a bartender in Jim White’s saloon, aunique watering hole that straddled the border. A red stripe painted on the floor designated which country a patron wasin – the saloon on the U.S.side of the line, with the kitchen and sitting room on the Canadian side. Known to the locals as William Gale, Collinsbefriended a local man, Robert Ewing, finally telling Ewinghis real name and confiding he had a wife living in Dallas. Gale/Collins asked Ewingto write her a letter, which apparently Ewing did. One can only speculate but it is assumedauthorities were watching her mail. Itwasn’t long before a deputy U.S.marshal arrived in Pembina looking for Collins.

Appointed as a deputy U.S.marshal in 1872, 38-year old William Anderson was determined to bring Collinsin. Arriving in Pembina, Andersonfirst sought out local deputy U.S. Marshal Judson LaMoure and Pembina county sheriff Charlie Brown (Brown servedfrom 1876 to 1884), asking their assistance in capturing Bill Collins, a.k.a.William Gale. It would be easier to makethe arrest, Anderson said, ifLaMoure and Brown went without him as he was “personally known” byCollins. With information that Collinswas tending bar in White’s Saloon the two lawmen ventured to the boundary tomake the collar. Bellying up to the bar,both men ordered drinks, hoping to catch Collins off guard in order to get theget the drop on him. It had been notedearlier that Collins had a habit of always taking the “gun fighters seat”,never turning his back to a door or window. Both LaMoure and Brown tried to get Collins to compromise his positionbut when their attempts failed, they left without their man. Collins was apparently aware Anderson was intown and looking for him as he is supposed to have told Sheriff Brown heexpected to “have it out” with the Texas lawman.

When Andersonlearned his man hadn’t been apprehended he approached postmaster and customsofficer Charles Cavileer about using the post office to capture Collins. Cavileer went along with Anderson’plan to nab Collins and Anderson took up residence in the building. It was Friday, November 8, 1878. From here we pick up the story as it wasrecalled by James R. Moorhead (son of William H. Moorhead, first sheriff of Pembina County) for Win V. Working of theGrand Forks Herald.

Moorheadand other young boys were playing near the post office when the final scene wasplayed out. Moorheadstated “it was growing late in the afternoon although the sun was still warm. Andersonlay on a bench in the office. Cavileerwas sorting mail. He looked out thewindow and saw Collins approaching. “Here comes your man now” he called to the marshal. Andersonsprang from the bench, examined his six-shooter and stepping around thecounter, took a position a few feet from the door. When Collins entered, Andersonordered him softly to throw up his hands. Collins complied and began to talk. Collins let his hand drop bit by bit when suddenly his right handflashed to the inside of his shirt. Justbefore his fingers gripped the butt of his six-shooter, which hung in a harnessunder his left armpit, Anderson fired. The bullet clipped off most of the end ofCollins right thumb up to the first joint and passed through his chest justabove the heart. Although mortally wounded, Collinswas still able to draw his weapon. Moorheadcontinued: “Collins fired and Andersonran to the rear of the room and fled through the kitchen door before thewounded Collins could bring his gun up again to fire a second time. During the shooting the group of young boyswhich included James Moorhead’s brother, Shep and a boy named Joe Bouvette,were sitting on an “open stairway” with other youths peeking through a rearwindow of the post office. Collins firstbullet passed within an inch of a lad named Ira Davis, according to Moorhead. The wounded desperado worked his way past thestove to a point where he had a clear view of the kitchen door. Andersonreturned and peered cautiously through the open door, but he exposed part ofhis body and Collins shot him through the doorway before the bad man fell tothe street. When the smoke cleared,both men lay dead.

The officialmarshal service report tells pretty much the same tale, the only exceptionbeing that Anderson grabbed Collinsleft arm and asked another person in the post office to secure Collins rightarm, when Collins broke away and drew his weapon.

In truewestern fashion, both men “died with their boots on”. But Anderson died wearing some else….a pairof gold cuff links—gold cuff links given to him on the day of his marriage byhis best man – William Collins. AlthoughWilliam Anderson was several years older, he and William Collins had gone toschool together and each had been the best man at the others wedding. Somewhere along the line they had gone theirseparate ways – one becoming a lawman, the other an outlaw. William Anderson left behind a wife and twochildren; his family received the $10,000 reward offered for the arrest of Collins. William Anderson’s body was shipped back to Texaswhere it rests in the Greenwood Cemeteryin Dallas. William Collin’s body was buried in anunmarked grave in Pembina.

The oldpost office in Pembina stood until May of 1883 when it was demolished. Built in 1864 it had served as the U.S.Customs house, the first post office and home of Pembina’s first post master,Charles Cavileer. Upon its demolition, thePembina paper commented “it has served its day and generation (and) has tosubmit to the destroyer. In the oldfront door is a bullet hole, the relic of a terrible tragedy which occurredsome five years ago, when a detective and a desperado exchanged mutually fatalshots, both expiring in a few minutes” --- the bloody legacy of Sam Bass, Texasoutlaw.

Excerpted from Murder and Mayhem in Pembina County

Breadcrumbs of a Life: P.N. Tri

2011-08-26T00:00:00.000-05:00

From 1920 "Farm Boys & Girls Leader".
Organized in 1919, it was the start of what
would be known as the the 4-H club of the
same name. It's fun to read the origin of
the club, and the meaning of the name...

I was recently told that "...P.N. Tri was a world renowned beekeeper and featured in apiary magazines. They shipped honey all over the world!"¹Well, of course that meant I had to see what I could find out.

The online record is slim, but I did find one article where P.N. Tri was quoted as wintering his bees in a potato cellar! Not much to go on, but interesting...

According to the Red River Valley website, P.N. Tri, or Peter Nicholas Tri, came to St. Vincent in 1915 to be Superintendent of Schools.

Later he worked at the Humboldt School, as you can see in the magazine article clipping at left. In this 1920 article, the St. Vincent Fair is referred to as the 'county fair'. I have never been clear if it was officially the county fair at one time or not, but this is one occasion where it appears it may have been...

¹ - The little birdie's name was Michael Rustad...

Horses

2011-08-23T20:45:00.000-05:00

Mosquito Swarm
[Click to see closer...if you dare!]

The newspaper article excerpt below describes a truly horrifying situation. I hate to think of the suffering the poor animals had to endure, ending in their deaths...

Many horses have died in Kittson County the past week or 10 days. Recently, examination of one of the dead animals showed the presence of hundreds of mosquitos in the lungs of the animal. This year the pests are in evidence by billions. The rural sections, where grass is growing, is simply alive with huge swarms of them. It is presumed horses could not breath without inhaling hundreds of them, which in turn set up infection, killing them.

From: Kittson County Enterprise (1937) - Which was ironically the same year that the first definitive work on mosquitoes in Minnesota was written by Dr. William Owen of the University of Minnesota.

Grand Old Lady

2011-08-21T12:03:00.000-05:00

So many children entered through these doors

The sign is blank. The steps are mostly buried, a railing rises from the earth. A gibbet of sorts protrudes from the front.

It's obvious that just about everything needs help. Roof, siding, windows, foundation. The "Grand Old Lady" of St. Vincent, that housed so many young souls on their journey of learning, deserves better.

At one time, the school had basketball, football, hockey, & track
teams. The mystery is, where did the basketball teams practice?!

The St. Vincent School, once the heart of the town, has become forgotten by most. Only the few living alumni or older area residents know its former glory.

I am one of those alumni, and I am here to bear testimony to this once proud building.

I grew up four blocks north of the school. In winter, it was sometimes a challenge despite being bundled up, to get down to the school before the penetrating cold invaded fingers, toes, cheeks, and ears. Eyes stung from the cold and wind, some mornings so bright I looked down as I walked the whole way.

1928 St. Vincent Men's Basketball Team
[That's my Uncle John Fitzpatrick in back, far left]

When I was older, and began taking the bus to Humboldt, I'd wait for it at the St. Vincent School. Once to the school, I'd wait with a few others in the big open area on the main floor with it's high ceilings, wood floors, and radiators. The radiators were particularly comforting on the cold days of mid-winter, often drying and warming my mittens while we waited. I remember a big black wall phone on the east wall above the radiator that was only to be used to call home in emergencies. Immediately to the right of the phone, radiator, and the large window to its south were the steps down into the basement. That was where the kitchen and lunchroom were, and during my time at the school, Simonne Cameron was the cook. Scootie Wilkie was the janitor. And Peanuts (a nearby town resident's pet dog) was the mascot.

St. Vincent School classroom portrait - Miss Evelyn Russell, teacher
[Circa 1916 - Courtesy Marjorie DeFrance - who is in this photo!]

The Author, Grade 3

It was when I "went upstairs" to attend third and fourth grade, that I encountered the old-style school desks. See the picture above? I'm pretty sure it was those exact desks that were still there 50 years later in 1966. They were made of hardwood and cast iron, polished now from little hands opening and closing lids over the years. Ink wells were still present but empty now, due to the technological advancements of the modern pen. Names of past students and messages from the past were carved inside lids; I wish I could remember those names now, but the folly of youth is often poor attention!

Playground - Notice the boys hogging the merry-go-round
(then again, maybe the girls are hogging the slide!)
My sister Betty is in line for the slide - Can you recognize anyone?
[Circa 1960 - Courtesy Humboldt Centennial Photo Collection]

Still an imposing building, it's character has been tarnished with
strange renovations and so-called 'improvements' over the years
[August 2011 - Courtesy Megan Sugden]

Late Day shot of the school as it is today - the twilight of a school,
the twilight of a town, the twilight of a day. Bittersweet.
[August 2011 - Courtesy Jamie Rustad Meagher]

My grandparents, my mother and her siblings, and my sisters and I (and even in a way, my daughter Eva, who attended school in Humboldt one year but caught the bus down at the school) all attended this school. My Grandpa Fitzpatrick even worked at the school for a time as the custodian in the early 1900's. It feels surreal to see something that seems so permanent, fading away. A sober reminder to us all...

Tales of St. Vincent:

2011-08-11T12:27:00.003-05:00

Rev. Kimberley's Grandson

In my eternal quest for stories and history about my beloved hometown, I came across a former resident's grandson¹ who lives in far off Oregon.

Here is a story the grandson remembers being told about...

Yes, I am the grandson of Rev. James Kimberley.

My father grew up in St. Vincent. I've never been there, but he told me many stories about growing up there. I think their house had a white picket fence around it. My father told me that when his parents were gone for the day, he was to rake up all the leaves. He had some matches and set little piles of leaves on fire, then stamped it out. It got bigger and bigger and the stamping didn't work. It caught the fence on fire. half of it was burned when his parents came home. He hid upstairs under their bed. His father found him and in his British accent said, "I say, Gurney, are you there?" He responded, "NO!" His father was not amused. He caught hell for that one.

[as recalled by Ogden Kimberley, shared with me February 26, 2011]

¹ - I think Rev. K would like that his grandson is a bagpiper!

Memories of a Humboldt Native

2011-08-08T12:21:00.000-05:00

Anthony "Tony" Merck
Humboldt Depot agent

This reminicense by Margaret Matthew Panzer is full of memories and names of old Humboldt in the way a poem about the town was. As you will read, there was a lot of community and fellowship as people strove to make a good life for themselves and their families, but there were also hard times (such as during the Depression)...

...My parent's farm was a little over a mile south along Highway 75 and we often walked to town and even to church on Sunday morning when the weather was pleasant.

Though my dad had a hitching post in our yard the only time I really remember a sleigh ride was on Thanksgiving when we went cross country to Len Sylvester's farm to enjoy the day. Lots of good food and crowding around her pot belly stove, playing the piano and working on the Charleston steps were all fun.

We did ride in a school bus in nice weather and a large sled during the winter weather.

Humboldt had been built on both sides of the main highway. East of the highway was really only about four large blocks. There seemed to be wide spaces between homes as some blocks had a home only on the corner.

The business section next to the highway was one building adjoining another. As we entered town there was a blacksmith shop owned by Jack McCollum that fascinated me; I loved to visit just to watch the owner at work. He seemed to make me feel at home as I watched him from a short distance. I was a quiet kind of child who was curious but knew enough not to get in people's way.

Grandma Hare's lovely big home was east on the street with no buildings in between. I spent many hours there with her and other kids who would come over to play mostly putting on programs. We learned to be creative. Others, being musical, entertained in their way and I had a lectern fixed up for my orations - mostly the Gettysburg Address. I would pound my little fist on the lectern. The others seemed to enjoy the diversity. I was very small only about 35 pounds in second grade!

We all had outdoor toilets and grandma had a nasty blackbird that would swoop down on us trying to peck on our heads each time one of us entered it; in the winter weather we had chamber pots in every bedroom that had to be emptied in the outdoor toilet! Nobody liked that job.

Sylvester's home was right next door to Hares. They had a son Warren (Hat) and a daughter Maribel who taught in our local school.

Hatherleys lived on the far end of the second block. They had one daughter Mildred. Mrs. H was related to William John Matthew who had numerous relatives in Humboldt and I will point them out as I progress.

There may have been a small two story white house on the third block but nothing else.

As one circles block 2 on the next corner was a lovely large home belonging to the (Ambrose?) Clow family who had a son Harry. He spent his time wondering about town from business place to business place. He was idle, happy, loveable and well provided for, he was not capable of holding down a job . The Clows, too, were related to William John Matthew who had married Elizabeth Ann Clow. They were both born in Devonshire, England. Again, lots of idle land between Hatherleys and Clow property but going around the corner toward highway 75 was the Professor Tri home built fairly close to Clows. I remember a son, Quinten, and knew the daughter Fidelis quite well and I believe there was a younger son. They were a Catholic family among all the Methodists.

Across the street was the large home built by Alfred and Louisa Croaker Matthew, my grandparents - son of William John Matthew...Parents of Jerry Diamond lived next to them. They too were related to William John Matthew.

Herb Diamond lived catty-corner from them (Amey, Hurdis, Harvey and Marva's dad) and diagonally across the street from Herb was Ikey Diamond (father of Pearl) both relatives of William John Matthew so you can see Prince Edward Island was well represented. There seemed to be a small business on the SW corner of the second block along highway 75.

By the late 20's my grandfather had a restaurant and barbershop next to Ikey Diamond; he still had it in the early 30's. John Easter, who was post master for several years lived next to the United Methodist church both along the highway. Easters, too, descended from P.E.I. and Wm John (...and from his father, who married a Clow, distantly related to my family! - Trish)

Easters had four children Ross, Gwen, Alice, and a younger son, George.

There was a partial third block on the north side. Lomas Matthews lived there and had two young boys. North of them was George "Ben" Matthews (father to Lomas) with his meticulous and beautiful gas station. I shall return to the station later. East of the Lomas home was a small retirement home for Annie Matthew, wife of George Matthew, brother of Alfred, and on the far corner was Vida Knowlton who lived across the street from the school house which was built in a field along the east end of town. Vida had several children the oldest Lowell and a daughter, Peg, one year younger than I and another one or two younger children. . I have no background knowledge of a husband or what happened to him; she, too, was some relative of Wm John M. She was so proud to have attended the New York World's Fair.

At the end of the church block was a family, I believe, called Varey. We children avoided going on the block or into their yard as we felt someone in the household had tuberculosis. True or not true it kept us away. Walter Herons ,who had one daughter Celestia, lived across the street from Annie Matthew.

East of Knowlton's was the school and large yard for ball games etc.

On the west side of town was a Jenkins family; I remember a son Lorimer but most of all I remember the unique way of getting to their home which was on the south edge of town. They had their place all fenced in with no gates. They had a stile built for people to cross. We went up steps then across a platform that is over their fence then we went down steps on the other side. No railing to assist. As a little girl it was a fun experience; today I doubt I would even try to cross it.

The Great Northern Depot and railroad along with an elevator and piles and piles of lumber made that side of town a fun area. But where was the lumber yard? I was never inside one. The young boys had a tiny shed they called their club house and no girl ever saw the inside! The Tom Browns. Fred and Virgil Bockwitz (farmers), and the Maxwells lived on the west side. Mrs. Maxwell was a music teacher. Mrs. Brown had been a teacher and Mr. Brown had the Shell gas station at one time.

As I recall, the Humboldt people had a reputation of being well educated. Some were. I know the Hare girls were. Lillian Matthew, dad's sister was a teacher. So was Maribel Sylvester. Yet as I think about the majority, who were descendants of Wm. George and Elizabeth Ann Clow¹ Matthew, I do not think they were well educated. They were hard workers, shrewd, had good judgment, were sound family people and seemed to have the characteristics that brought success. I remember my grampa telling about walking across country to Emerson each morning and home at night for $1.00 a day to try to get started. And lots of available land was a plus for them.

I recall the rural families fairly well but first let me try to explain about the days when periodic smoke odors and real smoke seemed to be everywhere and came in from the east. The wind had to be just right. I think it was peat bog fires. Peat was partially decomposed vegetation in the ground. And would sometimes start burning. We had peat between our home, barn, and the highway, Once my dad tried to carry my mom across the area and they both fell down into it. No real harm! Bothersome area to get across.

Starting from the south side people by the name of Hjeldness lived one mile south of us. Silas Matthew, a double first cousin of my dad, who was raised by my grandfather, lived on a farm a mile south and a mile west of us and Dan Meyer lived south of Silas. West and a mile north of Silas Henry Gatheridge farmed; next was a Clow cemetery then one meets up with the road going west past the Brown, Maxwell and Bockwitz homes. I have never been out on that road farther than a mile. But I knew that Manford Blagsvedt, Einar Rustad and Leslie Reese lived in that direction. People by the name of Kiriluk lived west close to a river. Stella, a daughter, boarded and roomed with my grandparents when she went to school. My grandparents had also adopted a young girl by the name of Martha.

Going north of Humboldt on the left side one would find the Stewart family. Again related to Wm. John Matthew from Prince Edward Island. The huge George Matthew home was east and north of town about a mile. It had a large deck circling the entire home on the second floor. We kids loved to run around that deck; we were all cousins. A smaller home for his son Louis and large family was in the same yard.

If one goes south again the Baldwin home was built before '29. South of it almost a mile and east a mile was a family called Moser. I recall 2 girls and nothing else.

People did visit among themselves since it was not a world of commercialism. I had not even been to Hallock until I was about 8th grade participating in a sports activity.

What activities for the kids? May Basket Day the first of May was fun. The girls spent hours making lovely baskets and filling them with goodies. They would hang them on the door of some boy's home and then run. The idea was that the boy should chase them trying to steal a kiss. How fast did they run? Midsummer there were ball games in the school ball diamond and in midsummer was the annual town picnic. Foot races, ball games, food and socializing was enjoyed. Halloween was much fun . We went all about town soaping people's windows and making a strange noise with buttons on thread that we would hit against windows. I don't seem to remember asking for treats like today's youngsters but maybe I've forgotten. Toilets were fair game and they would push over every one they could manage. I expect people tried to protect theirs but often failed. And no Halloween passed by that a gang didn't converge on that beautiful gas station area of Ben Matthews. Why they picked on him I never knew but I watched from the periphery as usual and thought the kids were mean but I was too little and shy to say anything. Christmas was preparing programs both at school and at church -- us being little dickens until we got real serious during the program Christmas Eve and Day. We did have a little skating area in the winter. Not really much entertainment: no movies, no television. In my home we played checkers, cards, and sang while either of my folks played the old organ, dad played the jew's-harp and a little on the violin- and planted Easter eggs for us to find. Mother kept the home fires going well with lots of healthy food, white clothes, the best bread and sugar cookies.

I chose to stop my recall in 1929 the year of the stock market crash. My parents lost their beautiful farm that year. Mother tried for a teaching position in town but was told she had more than enough to do to care for a family. Married women just would not be considered for a job in those days. What now? Dad drove ahead in his Ford car to Libby, Montana where he was promised work in the lumber mills. Mother and we children came a little later by train. Garfield and Muriel Easter came to Libby too and we lived together in a duplex. That chamber pail business reemerged. Mother, so ladylike, tried every day to quietly take care of it but Garfield would usually catch her and sing "Here comes the Bride". His fun was her embarrassment! We lived there for a year until our rented home burned to the ground. We lost everything and were forced to return to Humboldt. We lived a short while with the Matthew parents until we found a rental property in the country. My mother was so sad.

About 1935 a law was enacted that permitted former owners the first chance to buy back their own farms. My folks did just that and when I was sixteen we were back on our own farm. The beautiful home had burned to the ground during our absence and a new smaller home built - but it was home!

¹ - Elizabeth Ann Clow was my great great (great?) Aunt. Her brother Samuel Clow was my Great Great Grandfather. Samuel's daughter Elizabeth Jane Clow married William Fitzpatrick. My grandmother Elizabeth Jane Fitzpatrick married my grandfather Sheldon Albert Fitzpatrick, who was my Mom Harriet's Dad, and then here I am...! One more crumb of my family history linking me to so many in Kittson County!

A Bad End

2011-08-02T22:36:00.001-05:00

After all he did for the town, he ended his days sadly...

Daniel F. Brawley was an early settler to St. Vincent. He was involved in many aspects of building the town early on.

The above news blurb appeared in a Manitoba newspaper in the late 1800's, sharing news of the sad end to Mr. Brawley...

Fading Away

2011-07-31T19:43:00.000-05:00

Population 6...plus two big dogs
[Photo: Ghosts of Minnesota]

There are towns even smaller than St. Vincent, but not many.

One of them is Tenney, Minnesota.

Tenney recently dissolved, meaning they are no longer a town. I can't help but realize that it's only a matter of time before St. Vincent has to face that decision.

When I was growing up, St. Vincent had around 200 people. It was already in its descendency, a shadow of what it once was. But there were hints of its glory days, such as the sidewalks - some sections had been maintained well, others were disappearing under encroaching soil and grass. We still had a general store, a gas station (two, when counting the Junction), a post office, a school, and four churches (St. Anne's Catholic Church, Valley Community Church - later known as St. Vincent Evangelical Free Church - Christ Church, and the Plymouth Brethren Church. We also still held an annual fall event, the St. Vincent Fair (which was at one time, vying to be the county fair. Despite Hallock prevailing, St. Vincent continued their fair tradition for many years, and people from around the area continued to enter their produce, livestock, hand work, and baked goods in friendly (but deadly serious) competition!

But I digress. The point here is, all of that is long gone. It echos in my mind how my mother and grandmother used to talk wistfully about what the town used to be like, all the life of the town now gone, they said - businesses, families, parks, public concerts and socials. They pointed out here was where a saloon was, there was where the blacksmith's shop was. Across the road by that alley - which was actually the old railroad track bed - was where the depot used to be. On a trip with my father to the nuisance ground, my mother told me that was where the park used to be, and there was a gazebo there, where town brass bands would play on Sunday afternoons. The fair itself used to be down by the river once, too, but later was held in the downtown. Exhibits were in the Quonset, near the old temporary holding pens once used by the railroad for livestock, now used for sheep, hogs, etc. at fair time.

Now there are only around 60 souls. Every block has vacancies, empty space where once stood homes and businesses, where circumstances have, like a cancer, dictated surgical removals. Natives like myself can walk the streets, seeing and hearing what once was. Like ghosts bearing witness, it is all too real. The poignancy is very bittersweet. I once saw a movie that hit all too close to home, and it made me think how my hometown was headed in that same direction.

Most people don't face a death in the family involving their hometown, but that is how it feels to me. St. Vincent has never just been where I'm from, it's my family. All those souls from the past, that I grew up with, related by blood or by just being neighbors, were not merely faces and names to me, but family. I miss them all, and their memories will never fade from my mind as long as I am alive. This blog is testimony to them as much as I am able to make it...

Jefferson Highway Revisited

2011-07-26T12:42:00.003-05:00

JH71: North America's First Transcontinental International Highway

I came across an article about the Jefferson Highway which came to be 95 years ago!

Of the 1,800 miles [of the Jefferson Highway] between New Orleans and the Canadian city Winnipeg, 500 miles of the highway would be in Minnesota. The original idea was for one continuous highway. However, plans changed shape as work progressed. Much controversy surrounded the issue of what towns would be included in the route...The route was proposed to enter the state at Albert Lea then proceed to the Twin Cities. However, the path from the cities to St. Vincent, Canada was much debated.

Interesting that St. Vincent is 'in' Canada in this article. Not that I mind much. A lot of us have always felt as much Canadian as American. But the mistake amused me!

A great article that emphasizes the northern end of the highway can be read here...

Hudson Bay Bound

2011-07-21T02:00:00.000-05:00

In 1930, two brave young men paddled from Minneapolis to Hudson Bay and documented their odyssey in the book Canoeing With the Cree. For the 75th anniversary of this historic adventure, two men canoed the same route in 2005, followed by two other men in 2008. No women have ever successfully canoed this route.

I'm late to the game on reporting this one, folks, but as they say, better late than never.

Two women are attempting what has never been done before, and their path has went right through the heart of Pembina/St. Vincent on the Red River of the North.

Right now they're waiting on the weather - high wind advisories on Gull Harbour - so they're taking a forced break until things calm down.

While they have a dedicated website for this journey, I recommend you also check out their blog, where they keep everyone updated daily on the latest.

Good luck, Natalie and Ann!

A Prohibition Communion

2011-07-20T06:51:00.001-05:00

A "Rye Communion" was held in Christ Church during Prohibition!

I stumbled across a mention of St. Vincent in a Google Books snippet recently. I tracked down a second-hand copy of the book, which wasn't easy since it's pretty obscure. The title? God's Dodger: The Story of a Front Line Chaplain, by G.W. Stephen Brodsky.

The main scope of the book (written in autobiographic, first-person style) is about a man named Russell Oliver "Rusty" Wilkes. Wilkes was a Canadian officer during WWII, a chaplain (among many other roles) which is what the book is mainly about. He was a hero of sorts, but that is another story. The part of the book I was drawn to was the lead-up - his earlier life as a student, young husband, and new minister. One of the areas he was sent to, was where I grew up. In fact, he ministered to my own family (my grandparents and my mother, then a young girl...) at Christ Church.

The colorful story below is told with the warmth and humor that the perspective of time gives us all of such awkward occasions!

In the spring of 1932...I took up new duties at the town of Emerson, Manitoba, on the Manitoba-Minnesota border. The parish included Dominion City, Ridgeville, and St. Vincent, Minnesota. This was prairie wheat country, and here we experienced the worst of the infamous '20's drought and the awful poverty it brought at the peak of the Depression...[There was a ] scarcity of water in summer. Our basement cistern was cracked and empty, and a sweaty session of pumping proved only that the well was dry. Everybody was in the same fix, and the town's water was carefully rationed. Water came in a tank car a couple of times a week from somewhere west of Emerson, and every morning townsfolk would line up at the railway station with their pails while Emerson's lone constable unlocked a padlock on the town pump.

My usual Sunday routine was to drive to Dominion City in time for a late morning service, then to Ridgeville by mid-afternoon, and back to Emerson in time for evening service. Once a month I'd leave the folk of Ridgeville wallowing in a moral slough, and head across the border for St. Vincent in Minnesota, where the Episcopal Church observed Anglican rites.

These were prohibition days, and I suppose I could have made a tidy profit exporting other kinds of spirit. But, discretion being the better part of piety, I left my stock of communion wine in St. Vincent in care of the verger. The verger and organist Henry Young was a slightly built elderly gentleman of great devotion and impeccable morals. He would bring the wine faithfully to every service and return it to his home afterwards. One Sunday as I prepared the cruets for communion my nose caught the pungently unmistakable bouquet of 100 proof rye whiskey. I tiptoed from the vestry, across the church to where Henry was at the organ warming up the congregation with a rousing dirge. He was smiling beatifically, his eyes closed in reverential rapture. I murmured in his ear, "Henry, would you join me in the vestry, please." Henry came in still smiling vaguely, and stood swaying unsteadily.

When I told him he'd turned wine into whiskey, the smile vanished and his eyes bugged in spirituous indignation. He drew himself up to his full five-foot-three. "My dear Reverend Sir," he burst out, "I have NEVER had whiskey in my home. THAT, sir, is your communion wine." He turned on his heel and stalked out, his dignity marred only slightly as he tripped on the raised door sill and shot back into the church. Consecrate as I might, I didn't have a divine knack for turning whiskey back into wine. But there was nothing for it, so we had a rye communion. There was an occasional grimace of surprise among the kneeling celebrants, and even a smile or two. But nobody commented afterwards except Ethel, who didn't admire my novel approach to the sacrament.

Another interesting aspect to the excerpt above is its opening paragraph. I always wondered how the Depression manifested itself in my hometown area. Whenever I asked my Mom, she didn't have much to say about it. Granted, she was just a kid at the time, but I always figured that people here felt the effects in some measure. Turns out they did.

Water, Water Everywhere

2011-07-15T22:00:00.001-05:00

St. Vincent Post Office, during the 19-- Flood
[Photo Courtesy Perm Diamond]

Short's Cafe was near the river; it survived many floods over the years
[Photo Courtesy Perm Diamond]

Noyes Depot under water...
[Photo Courtesy Perm Diamond]

Lending a Hand

2011-07-06T21:18:00.000-05:00

rom around 1936 to 1956, Emerson obtained its power across the US / Canada border from a long 2400V distribution circuit originating from Pembina, ND (and which line passed through St. Vincent, MN and Noyes, MN on the way). This line was initially operated by the Interstate Power Company and was sold to the Otter Tail Power Company in 1944. In 1956, the Town of Emerson made arrangements to obtain its electrical needs from Manitoba Hydro and the cross-border distribution line was removed.

Source: Wikipedia

Further to the west, Interstate Power Company, a Delaware corporation, was authorized in 1936 to export power near St. Vincent, Minnesota, to Emerson, Manitoba.

From: "Foreign trade in gas and electricity in North America: A legal and historical study", by John Thomas Miller

Ballad of a Steamboat

2011-07-02T02:00:00.012-05:00

SS Anson Northrup / Source: Archives of Manitoba

A song about steamboating on the Red River, that mentions Fort Pembina...

Anson Northrup
by Dwight Peters
© 2005

In eighteen hundred and fifty-nine, out on the great west plain
The Prairie Schooner & ox cart, ruled the golden waves
In old St. Paul a bounty was set, by the shaking of the traders’ hands
To bring the mighty steamships to La Verendrye’s lands

Down on the Mississippi, Anson Northrup was heard to say
“That eight thousand dollar bounty’s mine and my riverboat’s the way”
We’ll launch at Crow Wing River and then go up the Red
But first we’ll have to strip her down and take it north by sled

Chorus:
The little girl playing on Fort Garry’s wall cried,
“Sounds like someone blowing in a bottle”
The great bells chimed at St. Boniface,
as the Captain leaned on the throttle
The children screamed, farmers ran to town,
Metis feared the waking of the dead
Their muskets roared and William Ross implored
There’s a steamboat comin’, there’s a steamboat coming,
The Anson Northrup’s comin’, comin’ ‘round the bend

The ragged ship set its compass north, followed the old Red River Trail
And only three dared to get on board, so sure that it would fail
As sparks roared from the smokestacks, rainin’ down on the dry cargo bins
The furnace drew such a colossal draft, might take the fireman right in

The trip up the windy Red River was to take just four days
But the bison still ruled the prairie and their crossing caused great delays
“Well I bet my last bottle of whiskey, that boat must surely run aground”
Said the rector at Fort Pembina as he heard its disappearing sound

Riverboats on the prairie, strange as it now seems
Ruled the Red and Assiniboine, these vessels run on steam
A four days west to Grantown, just 2 as a crow might fly
Would burn a chord of wood an hour, and blacken out the sky

The riverboats hauled the cargo, the traders got their reward
The ox-carts creeked out one last song, to a chorus of ‘all on board’
And a way of life kept changing, for some said to be doomed
Each time the steamboat sailed the Red, each time its whistle boomed

Captain Northrup¹ got his bounty, left his boat to a watery grave
A Horse of Iron replaced the steamers, men of white sealed the bison’s fate
Though the Metis never perished, their lives would never be the same
You still can hear their muskets roar at the sound of Anson Northrup’s name
______________________

¹ - …Captain Anson Northrup whipped a team of oxen to drag an old boat called the North Star over the dry land divide to the Red. Successfully plunged into a new river, Northrup’s none-too-modestly renamed vessel, the Anson Northrup, proudly sailed across the border on June 10, 1859, yanking the Red River at last into the age of steam…

- From Prairie Warships

NOTE: I contacted the composer of the song (which is part of an album called Red River) to ask him about it, and he had this to say...

Anson Northrup is still one of my favourite songs. I wrote it during a period when I was reflecting on Manitoba's and the prairie's history which is rich, remarkable and colourful and sadly becoming forgotten. Red River (Wpg & Riel) and Last Village Waltz (disappearing grain elevators & farm towns) and Lazy Prairie Moon (the old barn dance) all reflect this theme. There is a wonderful history of Manitoba Metis culture and music waiting to be composed or written and may be next. You can hear the song on our myspace in all its orchestral glory, it was the last song recorded for that CD so we got a bit carried away. We have enjoyed your blog, and the boat certainly would have passed through Pembina.

I set out to write an odyssey similar to one of my favourite Robbie Robertson songs "Acadian Driftwood". The idea for the song actually came from a childhood memory of seeing an old abandoned river boat off McPhillps Ave near the perimeter in Wpg. Never discovered the story of that boat but the possibility of a river boat on the Red got things going. I wanted the song to have a solid factual basis and so I googled and read as much as I could about steamships in Manitoba. What I learned fascinated me and the uniqueness of the name Anson Northrup itself seemed to beg for the man himself to be the focal point. Sadly, his memory seems to have disappeared from Wpg itself and there's not much info out there.

"In 1859", there was a great deal of north south trade along the Red River through Fort Pembina (which at that time was part of the NW Territory and not the US) down into the US. This link would expand to Chicago when the railway came in. Until then trips to what is now Minnesota (" in old St Paul a bounty is set") were made by Red River carts along the well travelled "Red River Trail", small boats or "prairie schooners" in the winter. The steamers came north thanks to Anson but he didn't stick around long. Neither did the Anson Northrup or steamers. While the Red River/Wpg to Lake Winnipeg route was quick and reliable the Red is quite windy further south. The Assinaboine River is windy and shallow so it wasn't uncommon for people to walk faster than the boats on that route and running aground was a real problem but they somehow made it to Fort la Reine ( Portage) and beyond. The railway was the final straw when it came in in the 1880's to quell ironically the Northwest Rebellion and that more or less did it sealed it for the streamers. The AN itself changed hands a few times and I believe was out of commission by 1870, more or less ditched in its "watery grave" just north of Red River/Wpg . Even after learning all this , the imagery of a steamer on the Red was captivating, Manitoba's own Mississippi!

So, to your question, Fort Pembina was very real as was the risk of running aground. I'm not sure if there was a rector at the Fort but I had it in my notes that someone in authority at the Fort had predicted that the boat wouldn't make it to Wpg when it passed through. I used rector because at that time there were a lot of Catholic missions in the area and very likely a church ( St. Vincent?) near the Fort and a rector would have been a VIP. In those days, men drank "whiskey" (probably home brew!) and a bottle would have been a common and very serious bet. The "sounds like someone blowing in a bottle" was apparently really spoken and I believe it was actually said by a young girl. In those day, Upper Fort Garry was still a functioning Fort and people did assemble on its walls to see what was "coming around the bend " and making that noise. The other references in the song, launching at Crow Wing River, Anson being "down on the Mississippi" in 1859, and the "bounty' being put up at St Paul all came from histories. Once I got the perspective, the song wrote fairly smoothly and I was pleased at how authentic I was able to keep it while still getting things in rhythm and rhyme!

So there you go. Thanks again for listening and let me know if you have any other ?'s.

Dwight

Gypsies Visit Humboldt

2011-06-29T06:32:00.000-05:00

Gypsy Musicians

From Pat Miller Herzog via Mike Rustad:

Dad was at Letillier for something or other regarding Customs and heard this strange language that he had not heard before and it was a bunch of Romanian gypsies that had just moved there. Dad spoke 5 languages and this was not one of them so he was really intrigued. Thru various interpreters they had a interesting dialogue and Dad was invited back to their home for lunch. He went. He spent the rest of the day with them. They are a colorful people and I mean that in the nicest of ways. Their home was bright and cheerful and their mode of dress was the same. All of them were polite and he enjoyed the lunch and almost all of them came for lunch which were about 35 people.

So, Dad, being Dad invited them to Humboldt and issued a written invitation as they would need that to cross the border. Then he asked them if they would go to the school to talk to the children and explain where they came from, what they did for a living and their culture. They were delighted and thus we got the benefits of that conversation that began it all. That was a day trip but they came back several times. A couple of the men brought their huge guitars and none of us had ever seen that before and oh-how they could play them and sing and we were enthralled. I have had tremendous respect for Gypsies ever since.

R.I.P.: The Spot

2011-06-26T09:38:00.000-05:00

Rescued: Iconic sign finds home, in retirement...

I don't know when it closed, but some time in the not-so-distant past it did.

The Spot, a well-known local watering hole, has closed its doors. Luckily, the iconic sign that literally pointed to the front doors, was saved (minus the neon that made it quite eye-catching at night during the bar's heyday...) Rick Clow was the person who salvaged it, a native son who has moved on, but still counts the hometown area near and dear to his heart...Well done, Rick!

Analysis of 6th & Atlantic

2011-06-18T02:00:00.000-05:00

Downtown Hallock nearly a century ago...
[Click to see large version and see details]

Right/South side of street: Taft's Cafe, Bank, Dentist, The Womans Shop

Ad in back of 1943 Uof M
Crookston 'Aggie' yearbook

Left/North side of street: Billiard Parlor, Harness/Auto Dealer, Hallock Land Co. (land office turned real estate office?), Hotel Hallock, garage, church

At crossing, mid-street: "Keep to the Right" sign

On left, a men climbs a ladder to do some work, perhaps remove a window

Below him a pedestrian is about to step up onto the modern sidewalks (although streets still appear to be dirt, no gravel or paving)

Further back, another pedestrian hurries across to avoid the approaching automobile, caught in a blur by the photographer.

Electrical cables overhead, and street lights. Haphazard parking indicates early automobile age was somewhat casual on the rules - looks like somewhere between parallel and diagonal!

Ernie Comes to Town

2011-06-15T02:00:00.043-05:00

I was recently contacted by reader Cleo Bee Jones, who shared that back in 1936, a piece about her uncles from St. Vincent was featured in a column by the well-known reporter, Ernie Pyle. She asked if I'd like to see it, and I said boy, would I!

Tales of Two Towns in the Northwest:Brothers by Wholesale in Minnesota, and Nocturnal Disturbances in Dakota
by Ernie Pyle of the Washington Daily News
August 25, 1936

Pembina, N.D. - I am crazy about the towns of Pembina and St. Vincent. Because of a couple of events that happened last night. They are virtually the same town, except that St. Vincent is in Minnesota and Pembina is in North Dakota. They're both just a stroll from the Canadian border.

Each town is about as big as a pinhead; the Red River (of the North) runs between them. That's one trouble with this country - there are too many Red Rivers. I have crossed a dozen, and I don't know yet which one the song was written about. But let's get on with what happened last night...

EVENT IN ST. VINCENT

Once I knew an aviator in the East whose name was Vern Lucas. He was a swell fellow. But he was killed. His widow bundled up the four children and went back to the home town. That was five years ago.

Now, while driving up through flattish northern Minnesota, with my head out of the window, better to see through the dust. I happened to remember this widow's home town was St. Vincent, Minnesota, which lay just ahead.

So I pulled up in front of a grocery along the gravel street and asked a fellow if he knew a Mrs. Lucas, whose husband had been an aviator, and was killed. He said yes, indeed, but that she was married again and living in Hallock, which I had already come through, about ten (sic) miles back.

A fellow came around on the other side of the car, opened the door, and got in beside me. A little unusual, I thought, but maybe just a local custom. He held out his hand. "I heard you ask for Mrs. Lucas," he said. "Well, I'm her brother."

So I explained where I had known the Lucases, and that I had been at the airport the night Vern was killed. You would have thought I was a long lost brother.

St. Vincent native and aviation pioneer, Vernon R. Lucas...

We sat and chatted, and pretty soon the brother sitting beside me (his name was Manford Lang) called to a fellow walking down the street, "Hey, come here!"

So the fellow came over, and Manford said, "This is my brother, Earl."

We talked for awhile and pretty soon Manford said, "Let's go down to the beer parlor." So we did, and when we walked in Manford took me around behind the bar and said, "This is my brother, Lawrence."

We went around in front of the bar, and Manford said, "This is my brother so and so..." I lost track of the names about there, and I said, "My God, how long is this going to keep up?" And Lawrence laughed and said, "A long time...There's 12 of us - seven boys and five girls. We're all around here, too, except one boy down in South Dakota."

So I said, "Well, I'm going over to Pembina and go to bed before some more of you show up." Which I did. Except that just as I was getting into bed, the phone rang and it was Lawrence down at the beer parlor saying that his sister, the former Mrs. Lucas, had got word by grapevine telegraph and had driven right over from Hallock, and would be up in a minute.

So, I slipped on my pants and sweater over my pajamas and went down, and sat and talked with her and her husband for an hour, and I was happy about it, because I saw that she was happy, and had been able to put her old grief away from her, and begun a new life. That is what all wives of dead aviators should do, but many of them cannot.

EVENT IN PEMBINA

They called it a hotel, but it was really just a private house. My room was the second-floor front porch, and there were two huge beds in it. There were no locks, and nobody even shut his door.

About midnight I finally wore myself out trying to decide which bed to sleep in, and fell into a great snore, which must have ripped long streaks in the golden North Dakota moonbeam that streamed through the window.

Suddenly a loud siren started to blow. It would have awakened the devil himself. It was a quarter to 3. People started running along the street. But I said, "Nope, I'm too sleepy."

In another minute or two, people started running out of my own house. From the darkness I heard a woman say, in the most agonized surprise I have ever heard: "Oh my God, my God!" And then quick panicky running steps down the street.

That was too much. For the second time that night my pants and sweater went on over my pajamas. I dashed down the dark stairs, caught my foot in a rug, rammed my head into the wall, worked loose, and was off down the dark street like a winged Vulcan with club feet. It was a fire alright.

The whole thing was burned down when I got there. Just one corner still standing, with a doorway in it, and a small section of roof just above it. All the rest was a bright blazing heap on the ground.

I asked a fellow if everybody got out. He looked at me and laughed. "What's the matter?" I said. "It was a barn," he said. "There wasn't anything in it."

The town firemen were there with their hose cart shooting water on a pile of railroad ties nearby. The siren was still blowing. One fellow said it was caught, and they couldn't get it stopped. Everybody in town was there, half dressed. I never would have suspected that so many women in the a little place like Pembina wore purple lounging pajamas.

After awhile the remaining corner of the barn - the corner with the door in it - fell over. People started going home. They finally got the siren shut off. I went home, too, and hung my pants over the back of the chair, ready for jumping into at a moment's notice.

First page of original draft of St. Vincent/Pembina article
[Courtesy the Lilly Library, Indiana University, Bloomington, IN]

Ephemera: 1955 Calendar

2011-06-12T02:00:00.003-05:00

Local advertising giveaway...

I was contacted by Beth Hoover from the Douglas County Historical Society recently...

In going through "stuff", I came on a 1955 calendar from F.F. Morris who sold insurance, bonds, rentals, loans, real estate and was a notary in Pembina...

I told her I'd love to see it. If anyone reading this knows more about the person advertising on this calendar, let me know.

Tall Tale

2011-06-09T02:00:00.001-05:00

The story featured in the article at left, found in a newspaper archive from the early 20th century, sounds like a tall tale if I ever heard one. I think some bored journalist from the east coast picked the most obscure town out west he could locate on a map and decided to spin a story to tickle his readers' fancies.

At any rate, it provides a good chuckle.¹ Like the math text book that used St. Vincent in a word problem, it's fun to see my hometown mentioned in such ways.

Now if anyone reading this can provide proof otherwise, that I would love to hear about!

¹ - I think that humor was the point of the article - a pull of the leg, a poke in the ribs, a twinkle of any eye...

Customs Stories IV: F.T. Bradley

2011-06-06T02:00:00.000-05:00

One of the clearest copies of this photo that I've ever seen!
[Click to enlarge and see the details...]

In 1871, a customs house was opened on the west side of the Red River, and the first Collector of Customs, F. T. Bradley, was appointed. Bradley became an important figure in Emerson’s early years, becoming also a director of the Emerson and Northwestern Railroad and organizing the first Masonic Lodge of which he was Grand Master. By 1872, the customs building also served as a telegraph, express, and post office for what was known then as North Pembina and came later to be known as West Lynne. It was later discovered that this “Canadian” customs building was actually sitting on the American side of the boundary—and was hastily dragged north! The customs house, the first in Western Canada, is now located on the north side of Highway 75 on the west side of the river, along with Emerson’s first jail, also a well-preserved log building.

Source: Manitoba Historical Society, Tour of Emerson

Port-of-Entry: Emerson 1947

2011-06-03T02:00:00.006-05:00

An image I found online for sale, of the Emerson port-of-entry, circa 1947

Locals would be waved through without stopping back then. Even when I was growing up, they still did.

It's a different world now. Technology has given and it hath taken away. It has provided ways for very bad people to potentially do even worse things to innocent others. In return it has given us countermeasures to fight against those ways. In the meantime, we become prisoners of supposed safety...and there is less open and easy opportunities for neighborliness - at least of the frequent, in-person variety that deep and lasting bonds are made of.

Little Minnesota

2011-05-31T02:00:00.002-05:00

A few years ago, Jill Johnson began an adventure writing about small-town Minnesota. She wanted to focus on writing about towns under 100 in population. Jill began writing about them on a blog. Eventually it became a book project, that I am happy to say will be published in the not-too-distant future.

And the best part? St. Vincent is one of the towns featured in the book!

Setting the Record Straight

2011-05-28T02:00:00.000-05:00

This appeared on the editorial pages of the Winnipeg Free Press recently...

In your editorial Radicals always in our midst (March 16), I was surprised to read in your editorial that in 1871 "the Irish rebel John J. O'Neill met Métis leaders in Manitoba to enlist support for an invasion of Canada in an effort to weaken British oppression in Ireland." I would respond: what Métis leaders?

I have researched this issue extensively. William O'Donoghue had recruited four Fenian leaders to come to Manitoba. The Fenian Brotherhood did not officially sanction this trip, but provided funds for 300 muskets. They had about 30 men with them when they crossed the Manitoba border and ransacked the HBC post at Emerson, which was called "Fort Pembina."

Someone ran across the border and notified Capt. Lloyd Wheaton at the U.S. military post. Wheaton, who had been warned by the White House to stop the raid, crossed the border, rounded up the Irish Americans and took them back across into North Dakota. Canadian patriots in Winnipeg were still rounding up recruits to repel the invaders.

When they appeared before a Pembina magistrate, they were liberated on the grounds it did not break American law to invade Canada. However, three Pembina Métis were later arrested for helping the Fenians and charged with treason by officials in Winnipeg: Louis Letendre, Andre Jerome and Isadore Villeneuve.

Only one was convicted, but Jerome was held over the winter at Lower Fort Garry. He later claimed he had been tortured to give up the names of the Métis who helped the Fenians. He did not confess and was later set free as there was no evidence against him. However, these three Métis were later exiled to the U.S. in 1872.

I conclude that they were put through these show trials to intimidate other Métis from taking up arms against the Canadian government. The Fenians involved were not punished. John O'Neill did not meet Louis Riel or any other Métis leader, since he did not get beyond Emerson.

It is unfortunate this failed Fenian raid is usually dismissed as "an absurd example of failed terrorism." It had a traumatic effect on the families who were terrorized by Canadian government officials.

I refer you to our article The Métis in O'Donoghue's Raid, published in Manitoba History, Spring/Summer 2000: 24-38. Andre Jerome is the great-grandfather of my co-author, Edward A. Jerome of Hallock, Minn.

It is unfortunate your editorial writer knows more about John O'Neill than about the three Métis who were scapegoats in this tragic event.

RUTH SWAN
Winnipeg

Early Church Ministries: Catholic

2011-05-25T02:00:00.000-05:00

The Sisters of the Propagation of the Faith began working in Pembina, in the mid 19th century...

1856 - These sisters, seven in number, conduct an English, French, and Indian school, and by their knowledge of the languages used by different tribes they are particularly qualified for the instruction of persons of their own sex and of children. They have one hundred pupils in their schools. They receive boarders at the rate of $30.00 for six months. These sisters intend, as soon as circumstances permit, to extend their charitable labors to the sick.

1859 - This new order of sisters has been established especially for the instruction of children amongst the numerous half-breeds and the Indian tribes in the northern part of the diocese, as soon as their means will permit. They have now charge of St. Francis Xavier's Academy at Pembina, on the Red River of the North, Dacotah Territory.

From: A history of the Catholic church within the limits of the United States: from the first attempted colonization to the present time, Volume 4, by John Gilmary Shea

Even into the 1870's, St. Vincent Catholics were being ministered to by priests coming from St. Boniface...

In September, 1818, William Edge arrived at Pembina from Fort Garry to help construct a school as part of the St. Francis Xavier Mission. A log cabin was built adjacent to the first log church and served as the schoolhouse for many years...

From: The Challenge of the Prairie: Life and Times of Red River Pioneers by Hiram M. Drache

Mike's Memories: Town Ball

2011-05-22T02:00:00.008-05:00

After the First World War, Manitoba became a preferred destination for barnstorming ball teams from the United States. All professionals, these American teams would roll through towns and villages throughout the province playing local amateur and semi-pro squads and often, the barnstormers got themselves whupped.

From: Home Run

My earliest memories were going to baseball games on hot summer evenings. My home town of Humboldt, Minnesota had first rate baseball teams in the 1920s and 1930s. The entire town would follow the town ball team.

The early teams featured the Diamond brothers: Levi, Herb, and Ikey. Lomas Matthews was another legendary track star and baseball player who hailed from Humboldt. Happy Chandler, later to become the baseball commissioner and Senator from Kentucky played one summer for Humboldt.

Another early legendary player from the Humboldt team was Cal Farley who, like most of the other ball players on the 1910 team, was also interested in track and wrestling and went on to form Cal Farley's Boys Ranch in Texas. The U.S. Government honored him by printing a U.S. stamp named for him. The 1920 team also shows many of the players.

During the late 1940s and early 1950s, Humboldt had an excellent travelling team.

My Dad played first base and my Uncle Burton Turner was a pitcher. Burton's father, Ernest Turner, was a legendary pitcher. Many of the stories of early Humboldt baseball are well documented on this web site.

Who was the greatest player in Kittson County History? Some might say Ernie Turner, Happy Chandler, the Diamond boys, or Clarence Beck. [Note from Trish: And don't forget Eli Gooselaw...] We don't have videos and it is impossible to compare players across generations. My candidate for player of the Millennium for the County is Humboldt's own native son, Scott Matthew.

Scott was one of the fiercest competitors to play Kittson County baseball. He was a legendary player at several positions. My Dad thought that one of the best players ever to play for Humboldt was the legendary pitcher, Scotty Matthew.

"Strrrrrrrike!"

Scott grew up in Humboldt and later lived in Kennedy. Scott Matthew played on a county team into his late 50's. The Crookston paper noted that Scott and his son, Daryl played for the Lake Bronson Lakers' team of the mid 1970s. Daryl Matthew, a fraternity brother of mine from the University of North Dakota, was an outstanding pitcher. Daryl was the pitcher and Scotty the catcher. Ron Matthew, also a Delta Tau Delta brother, was shortstop for the Lakers. The Crookston team beat the Lakers in the playoff 7-3. At age 56, Scott legged in an infield hit. The Reporter notes that: "Scott Matthew, who was involved in the Lakers' 6th inning flurry which had Campbell (Crookston's pitcher) in trouble. Ron Matthew led Lake Bronson to a 1 to 0 shutout against Greenbush. Double plays were carried out by Ron's brothers, Daryle and Jon. Ron's oldest brother, Jon, stole home for the only run of the game. The Matthew baseball abilities run in the genetic code."

If Scott was a force in his mid to late 50s, he was even more dominant in earlier years. In 1956, Hallock won the Northwest Border League playoff by beating Tolstoi, Manitoba behind Scott's 4 hit game. Johnny Younggren won the semi-final game against Lancaster, 11 - 8. Scott had a number of no-hitters, one-hitters and shutouts in the summer of 1956. Scott pitched several no-hit games in the 1950s. No-hitters were pitched against Plummer, Red Lake Falls, and Fosston!

Scott Matthew played on numerous teams and there was a large group of fans who followed every game. This was in the decade before television took hold. Minnesota did not have a major league franchise until 1961 when the Washington Senators moved to the Twin Cities. Prior to the Twins and television, Kittson County baseball was a major source of entertainment.

Baseball games were held at the St. Vincent and Hallock Fairs as well as the traditional double-header at the Polish Picnic. The Kittson County All Stars frequently played teams from larger towns. The Kittson County All Stars shut out Grand Forks in a game held in Lancaster. On July 28, 1951, for example, Kittson County beat the Manitoba All Stars before a Press Day Crowd of 1,500.

In the early 1950s, touring black baseball all-star teams played Scott Matthew and his fellow All Stars. In an undated clipping, the headline is "Scott Matthew Shuts Out Warroad Team." Scott Matthew, well known hurler from around these parts, has been throwing some of the best ball of his life. Not too long ago during the Kittson County Fair, Scotty threw a beautiful game for the Kittson All Stars as they defeated the House of David's colored baseball team.

Scott's Hallock Indian team split a double header with the strong team from St. James of Winnipeg. The Minneapolis Tribune had a story on Kittson County baseball in the early 1950s. The article was entitled: "Hallock? Why, It's a 'Hot' State Baseball town." The story told about how my Dad's team composed of Humboldt, Emerson and Pembina players finally beat Scott's team. Scott Matthew played baseball long after he was married and began his family. In the early 1950s, he was a depot agent who played baseball professionally for a number of teams."

The Minneapolis Tribune story also mentions Dennis Matthews' cousin, Jerry Diamond, who played third base. The grandstand seated several thousand and the baseball games drew big crowds seldom less than 750. In 1952, Hallock beat Red Lake Falls for the championship. Charlie Matthew, Earl Clow, and Bill Carlson were stars on that team along with Pitcher Earl Coleman.

Hallock baseball was promoted by Jerry Diamond who sold advertising. In an appreciation game against Humboldt, Jerry arranged for a huge advertisement in the Enterprise. The large letters read: Falls Mando vs. Humboldt (Top Semi-Pro Team in N.W. Minnesota). My dad was a member of the Humboldt town team that played that day. The advertisement stated: Sunday, Sept. 7, 3 p.m. MANDOS VS. HUMBOLDT: The game was broadcast by a Crookston radio station. The Dutch Room Grill offered awards of $100 for a triple play, $25 for a player with perfect batting, $20 for any pitcher with 15 strikeouts and another $20 if any player hit 2 homers.

Scott continued his winning ways into the late 1950s. Scott Matthew and Darrell Bowman were the pitcher and catcher in a loss to Warroad at the end of the season. Kennedy's team that year was hampered because several of their regular players had pressing farm work and the harvest to attend to. Baseball was important, but not as important as getting the crop harvested.

Beginning in the late 1950s, baseball began to fade in importance. Scott Matthew, however, continued to excel. The 1957 team another solid team for Hallock. Hallock again represented the district in the regional meet at Warroad. Ronnie Curtis, Scott Matthew, Harley Younggren, Harris Johnson, Charlie Cederholm, Johnny Younggren, Neil Bengston, Richard Nelson, Jerry Diamond, and Robert Holmgren.

Scott played on the Kittson County All Star team which beat Grafton in a no-hitter in 1957. Scott pitched 8 innings of no-hit baseball and was relieved by Earl Coleman from Hallock who kept it a perfect game. The Kittson County All Stars played the Crookston All Stars at Lancaster. The undated newspaper report notes that "Scott Matthew of Humboldt, who pitched professionally this year over a wide area in Manitoba, Dakota, and Minnesota, will be available as an All Star Pitcher."

The Kittson County lineup against Crookston consisted of : catcher, Elliott Hunter (Orleans), pitcher, Scott Matthew (Humboldt); 1st base, Clarence Beck (Lancaster); 2nd base, Norby Solnes (Dominion City, Manitoba); 3rd base, Archie Sele (Bronson); left field, Willard Sele (Bronson); center field, Boyd Nyflot (Bronson); and Charles Matthew, Humboldt, and Bob Bouvette (shared duties at right field).

- Michael Rustad, first published as guest editorial in Kittson County Enterprise (March 3, 2004)

"A Stark Contrast"

2011-05-19T02:00:00.002-05:00

Farmers in our area have had to, down through the years, wage battles on many fronts - weather, disease...and markets.

We are inclined to think that by this time the Canadians who, under the influence of the teachings of the liberal press, preferred to emigrate to Minnesota and Dakota rather than to Manitoba and the Canadian Northwest, will have had reson to curse alike their own fate, and the false teachers that led them to it. The absurd stories about monopoly, about land laws, about high taxation, which served the purpose of the opposition, are certainly no panning out in the experience of the settlers. Minnesota and Dakota farmers, teaming their wheat across the border, paying the Canadian duty of fifteen cents a bushell, and still making a profit of about four cents a bushell over what they could get on their own side of the line, is rather a startling condition of things. We copied the other day from the St. Vincent Minnesota, New Era a paragraph describing the condition of things to be seen there daily of farmers, dsiguested with the local price of from twenty-seven to thirty-six cents a bushel, less, when the cost of threshing and twine is deducted, than the price of carrying it to market, teaming it across the border in order to get the profit, over and above the duty, which the Canadian price would give them. We do not wonder that, as the New Era says, "all felt like cursing the county and getting out of it."¹

By a letter received here last week, it appears that up to the 28th November no less than eight hundred and sixty-one bushels of wheat were imported at Emerson from across the border. On that day No. 1 wheat was selling at St. Vincent at 37 cents a bushel, and at Emerson, just across the border on the Canadian side, at 56 cents; so that after paying the duty, the Minnesota farmer got four cents a bushel more for his wheat in Manitoba than he could get in his own state. But the most gratifying feature is that this enormous adventage obtains not only on the immediate border but all along the line of the Canadian Pacific railway. The price last week at Winnipeg and Portage la Prairie was sixty-one cents a bushel; on the Burnside and Brandon section it was fifty-nine cents. From that point on to Fleming, it was fifty-seven cents, and from Fleming westward it was fifty-five cents. So that even on the western section of the Canadian Pacific railway the Northwest farmers were receiving eighteen cents a bushel more for their wheat than the Minnesota farmer was getting at St. Vincent. These facts are the best answers to the "monopoly" cry which a year or two ago was sufficiently influential to drive many Canadians into Minnesota and Dakota, and we will be greatly surprised if they do not induce a large number of Canadians, now on the Americna side of the line, to transfer themselves to Manitoba and the Canadian Northwest, where, as we doubt not, they now heartily wish that they had gone in the first instance.

From: The Montreal Gazette, Monday, December 8, 1884

I found out there was a bit more going on than at first glance...

Manitoba was the centre of growth, and of growing grain production, in the West (of Canada) to the late 1890s. But it was not until 1883 that Manitoba had a rail link to the East. Up to that time, grain was shipped through St. Vincent, Minnesota, to the Great Lakes. This indirect shipping was costly. That year, the CPR completed its line to Thunder Bay (then Fort William/Port Arthur) Since the railway had the only direct access to the Great Lakes, "it was able to exercise a great deal of monopoly power and adopt a value-of-service pricing policy." It set its grain rates at just below those through St. Vincent - Rates were higher than the actual costs justified.

From: Regina Leader-Post, January 22, 1982

That is what the "monopoly" reference mentioned earlier was referring to, and with some just reasoning in my opinion...

¹ - The full editorial was: "On Tuesday last we saw a sight upon our streets that with little variation may be witnessed here any day. A number of our best farmers were in town, men we have known since they settled here, and known them to be sober, hard-working, intelligent, honest men. They had their waggons loaded with wheat, and the prices they were offered ranged between 27 and 37 cents per bushel, mostly 27 cents. After taking out the cost of threshing and twine, they were paid less for their wheat than the railway charges are for drawing it to market. Some took their wheat to Traill's mill, and traded it off for flour. Some took it to Emerson, Manitoba, and paid the duty and sold it there, others took it home again, and a few, disheartened, sold their loads for what they could get, not what it was worth, and all felt like cursing the country and getting out of it." So much for Minnesota...

From: The North-West Agitation, The Toronto Mail (December 1884)

Mathematic Word Problem

2011-05-16T02:00:00.004-05:00

Something I had never imagined - of St. Vincent used as a textbook example - came across my screen when doing local history research the other day.

What is the difference between the average July temperature +65 and the average January temperature -8 at St. Vincent, Minn.?

From: Practical algebra, first year course (1910)

I got a kick out of seeing my hometown village used in this way...

Customs Stories III: Opium Smugglers

2011-05-13T02:00:00.002-05:00

Smuggling contraband is a long tradition along borders, including the border area around St. Vincent...

Bold Opium Smugglers

Confiscated Opium...
St. Paul, Minn, Dec. 20, 1888 - A gang of daring smugglers has been engaged for some time in bringing opium into this state across the Northwestern border. The deputy collector at St. Vincent, Minn., acting on information from one of the gang who is under arrest, captured a wagon containing eight hundred pounds of the drug in the crude form just on the Dakota line. Detectives are in pursuit of the man to whom the opium was consigned. Opium smuggling on the extensive scale is being carried on, and such are the precautions against detections that it is almost impossible to stop it.

From: The Ithaca Democrat (December 1888)

Good thing, then, that Deputy Collector Nelson E. Nelson was on the job!

St. Vincent: Port of Entry

2011-05-10T02:00:00.001-05:00

H.R. Bill 814 makes St. Vincent's case

Did you know that at one time, St. Vincent was a port-of-entry?

After you read the original bill requesting that the town be made an official port (at left), you'll understand the logic; it actually makes sense for the time.

As of 1916, it was still a port. I'm not sure when it was discontinued, nor in what capacity it served as one. Since the town wasn't right on the border itself (like Noyes) my guess is that it wasn't used for a crossing point, but functioned solely as a conduit for the border trade, or customs.

In 1883, it becomes reality - St. Vincent becomes a (sub)port-of-entry

I found out this much: A deputy collector resided at St. Vincent during the time frame it was a port-of-entry.

With further research, I learned there was a Customs House in St. Vincent at some point, and not only was there a Deputy Collector of Customs, but at least two other positions there, also.

For example, in 1887, those on-duty were: Adelard Guernon, Collector; Nelson E. Nelson, Deputy Collector; and Alfred F. Storey, Deputy Collector, Clerk & Inspector.

In 1887, there was no 'district of Dakota'; in fact, even the Pembina Customs was listed under the 'district' of Minnesota. But between then and 1916, that changed...

The district of Dakota, to include all of the States of North and South Dakota and the county of Kittson in the State of Minnesota, with district headquarteres at Pembina, in which Pembina, Noyes, St. Vincent, Portal, St. John, Hannah, Neche, Ambrose, Souris, Walhalla, Sarles, Sherwood, Hansboro, Crosby, and Antler are ports of entry...

From: United States Statutes, annotated (1916)

Poem about Humboldt

2011-05-07T02:00:00.018-05:00

Downtown Humboldt around the time the poem was written...

Ode to the North
[With apologies to Longfellow, and
acknowledgement to the Franssens]
Author anonymous
(Written circa 1938)

I
In the old Red River Valley,
Near the muddy, rusty, river
There’s a town by the name of Humboldt
Little town, quite far from St. Cloud!
Up, far up into the Northland
Where the people are dirt farmers
Strong and handsome sidewalk farmers.
Farm one farm and then another
Farms the whole damn country round them
Rent the land by sections, even
When we farm only 100 acres!

II
Much the things they do there different
All use tractors ‘stead of horses
Trucks and trailers ‘stead of wagons
People there are great on motors,
All got cars and big machineries
Packards, Plymouths, Dodges Chevies
Buicks, Fords what got the shimmies
Deering, Farmalls, Allis Chalmers,
Bradley, Deere John, and Missus Harris
All own combines, lusty swathers,
But they don’t have cultivators
Cause they don’t grow corn way up there.

III
In the springtime comes the rainstorms
Rains and rains and comes the gumbo
Slippery, slimey, black and dirty
Charlsie scrapers and calls it cowshit
Cause its all so smooth and stickey
Trucks get stuck, must be pulled out
By the fat man’s caterpillar
Gum gets tracked in the houses
Housewives have to clean and scrub them
But they do these little labors
Think not much of little labors
Glad to live up in the Northland.

IV
Up from St. Cloud comes the girlies
Stay to sport away vacation
With Aunt Pearl and Uncle Ollie (Berg)
Tear around with neighbor laddies,
Goes to shows with Wimp and Gordy
Vamps around and goes to Bronson
Have themselves a plenty good time
Play the checkers and the ping-pong
Drink root beer and eats the pop corn
Rides in trucks and on the combine
Drive Joe Diamond's “Master Chevie”
And with his beloved, Jerry!

V
In the town there is the people
Leonard, Herb and Lawrence Diamond
Big B’S-ers, them three fellows
Like to tease and tell big stories
All in fun does Ikey do it
Him the Cop, - - - the Chief of Police
Him the Fire Sergeant also,
But not the Mayor,
Him is Tom Brown.
Squirty little duck, the mayor,
All for work and money getter.

VI
Bumped his head on Bud’s truck mirror
Wondered what the hell had happened
Looked around and pulled his whiskers
Bud and Donnie blowed a tire
Knocked the cap from Uncle Bud off
Blew the cigarette from his mouth out
Donnie Brown rolled over backwards
Laughed & laughed and rubbed his stomach
Him the kid that can fry “burgers”
Juicy, greasy hot hamburgers
He displayed his art one winter
At Aunt Pearl’s and Buds Household

VII
Also for Tom, works Sylvester,
Fat and happy Slim Sylvester,
Went with teacher from the "Hoc Schule"
Drives himself a pretty Chevie
Scoots around with old "Shell" gas truck
Round town and in the country
Bringing gasses to the farmers
Much he teases little Mary
Also Pete and sassy Jerry

Humboldt Car Dealership (individuals by cars & lone dog, unknown!)

VIII
In the town is Mama Irving,
Runs a store with Papa Irving
(Him a fogie, her a fidget)
Handles stuff from food to hardware
Groceries, hair pins, combs and dust pans
Brooms and brushes, hankies, clothes pins
Diapers, buttons, shoes and stockings
Cough drops, meat and under clothing
Salt and sugar, ladies panties
Slips, braziers, and even nectar
Hats and hard wear, candy, aprons,
From this stuff she makes her money.

IX
Other store is owned by Florence
Sells as much as Mrs. Irving
Employs more folks than Mrs. Irving
Works in store is Johnnie Easter
Maymie Jury and Ruth McEwen
Talking much and selling little
Back in store is the Post Office
Where they sell the stamps and postcards.

X
On the corner is the restaurant;
Edith, Andy, Own the eat shop,
Sell the beer, the pop and candy,
Make the lunches, fine and dandy!
Sell the gum, the Coco Cola,
Make good Money buy the Packard.
Just before they own the V-8,
How you like for making profit?
Here they have a nickelodeon ,
Play the records that are famous.
Much the people like these people,
They are nice and healthy people.

XI
Cross the street is Humboldt garage,
Owned by Schantz, Ollie and Bob.
Sell car parts and fix the tractors,
Sell gasoline from pumps on the corner
Ollie sits and reads the stories,
Keeps the books and darns the stockings.
Bob he all the time is busy,
Fixing kick-offs, motors, loaders.
Sells the spark-plugs and the gaskets.
Fixes horns, the pistons, tires
Makes the cash and builds a house
for himself and little Ollie.

XII
Down the street is competition, called
Ben's Standard Service station.
Run by Ben and Lottie Matthew.
Ben on Sunday wears the apron,
Lottie knits and scarves embroiders
Crochets doilies, scarves and runners.
Sells them to the many tourists.
Those old timers had but two kids,
One was Annie, one was Lomas.
They are married, have their own kids
Lomas lives right next to parents,
Has two boys named Dean and Dennis.

XIII
Next to Lomas lives a blowhole,
Big & Burly Billie Johnson.
Once had rheumatism badly
Now is healthy as a bed bug.
Little woman was a Diamond,
Pretty, charming Amey Diamond,
Had the baby little Gary,
Cute and fat the little Gary
No big blow-hole like his daddy,
Ride the walker, spill the groceries,
Mama say "No, no dear Gary,
Mustn't eat the butter darling,
Lets go over, see Aunt Marva.

XIV
Also in town are preachers,
Two big women preachers mind you.
Live alone in buff and white hut,
Rent paid by the congregation.
Dog they got and chevie also,
Go to Cass Lake on vacation,
Leave the house alone with chickens.
Do their preaching and their teaching
in the white church on the corner.
Keep a garden in the meantime,
raise themselves nice red tomatoes
to be swiped by naughty girlies.
Next in line comes Grandma Matthew,
lives in her nice little tepee.
Raises flowers in her garden
Up to snuff she keeps her household
Nice old lady, kind to neighbors!

Poem: "Queen River..."

2011-05-04T02:00:00.000-05:00

Red River of the North, by Apyh P

As often happens in my research, I stumble across something when looking for something totally different. The poem below was written about the Red River; I smiled when I first read it, because it's obviously so idealized (at least about the river itself). There are also elements of imperialism and prejudice regarding the aboriginal cultures. Yet, to be fair, there are at the same time paradoxical phrases (such as "priestcraft's snare") that could be taken as condemnations of the eventual results.

by J.C.H.

'Neath high arched skies of clearest sheen,
Sweeping thro' prairies' boundless green,
Where branching elms and poplars throw
Dark shadows of the flood below;
Thro' the great rival nation's land,
Uniting them with silver band,
We greet thee, as we greet a Queen,
Red River of the Northern Plain.

Thy crown is of the azure hue
Of sun-set sky and pearly dew;
Thy tresses of the ivy made,
Twined with the willows, lighter shade;
The Bois de Sioux, the small Marais,
Unite to make thy girdle gay;
The Assiniboine and wild Roseau
Thy fair feet have in Northern Plain.

A Naiad Queen - thy bounteous hand
Refreshes oft the parched land;
The cattle bellow forth thy praise,
The blackbirds land thee in their lays;
The plover, mallard, and wild goose
The slow-paced bear, the antlered moose,
Come, lave and drink, a thankful band,
Queen river of the Northern Plain.

Pray tell us of those ancient men,
The Sioux, the Blackfeet, the Cheyenne,
Whose forms majestic, by thy face
Reflected were - a stately race;
Their children on thy banks still stand,
Sad remnant of a noble band;
Their old renown, their fate, you ken,
Old rover of the Northern Plain.

Then tell us of the men who came
In humble guise and holy name,
Who bore the cross, and taught that loss
Was gain, and gain on earth was loss,
With Him before whose sacred throne
The red and white man count as one;
Good men, ye sought for heaven to tame
The wild men of the Northern Plain.

But ah, my Muse, in shame and tears,
With downcast eyes, of after years
She tells. By lust and lucre nurs'd,
Came wrongs and cruel deeds, that curs'd
The land, sod made the red man fall
And fade, who had been king of all
Canadians - shall the coming years
Redeem from stain our Northern Plain?

Astraean Muse, the tears conceal,
And of the coming years reveal;
"Fair Queen, thy virgin shores shall be
The home of Myriads blest and free;
From despot's rod, from priestcraft's snare
Thy waters pure their freight shall bear,
Thy praise they'll raise, thy glory feel,
Queen River of the Northern Plain."

NOTE: The Bois de Sioux, Marais, Roseau, and Assiniboine are four of the many rivers that drain the northern part of this immense prairie, and fall into the Red River of the North...

From: From Manitoba Free Press November 6, 1875

Louis Riel Poem

2011-05-01T02:00:00.001-05:00

Photo of Riel (1878)

It was from the border town of St. Vincent, Minnesota, that on December 26, 1878, Riel gazed longingly at his Manitoba homeland and composed the following lines. Since he was still purging the five-year exile imposed on him in Ottawa in 1875, he could not enter Canada. Filled with anger by the thought that a recent influx of English-speaking Protestant settlers was now controlling his province, he contemplates mounting an armed invasion of Canada which, with providential support, would liberate his people. Riel condemns the actions of Lisgar and Dufferin, governors general, whose terms overlapped that of Canada's first prime minister, John A. Macdonald.

Minnesota, Which I Now Entered (1878)

Minnesota, which I now entered,
Filled my heart with longing
For my home strung along its border.
I fell, sighting two cities, a bliss,
St. Paul and Minneapolis,
For eight or nine parents settled there.
I am moved almost to tears
As the train slowly draws near.
But the train moves on and the engine
Takes me to Breckenridge, to Crookston;
Then to St. Vincent from where, happy,
I contemplate my beloved country,
My sweet.
Manitoba,
Enticing as a loved one's charms,
Now held in the Orangemen's strong arms:
Manitoba,
For whom I have toiled unceasingly,
Your countenance inebriates me.
As if subdued by sweet catawba,
I reel. Like Solomon to Sheeba
I am beckoned irresistibly.
For your glory my love must avail
And, God willing, my efforts prevail.

I have just returned from the Northeast.
While I waited, punished in exile,
Through the machinations of a Beast
Your innocent hearts have been reviled.
I, God willing, with renewed vigor
Will find ways to crush this enemy.
Friends on the banks of the Missouri
Will, with conviction as their armor,
Fight the native people's righteous fight
And, with me, armed by justice's might,
Fly swiftly on a northerly breeze
To help our Metis brothers resist.
Passions and fierceness I will enlist
And to great injustice match great fury.
They will attack Portage la Prairie
And destroy that wicked place entirely.
The river Boyne will be a bloodbath,
Red Assiniboine its aftermath.
Lisgar and Dufferin have bequeathed
Ignominy. Their men's legacy
Is betrayal. With revenge unsheathed
The Blackfoot will make Winnipeg pay.
Do not falter, worthy countrymen.
Oppose the English. Respect your name.
John A., no better than a madman,
Ottawa will lose at its own game.
Spirit, be guided by Providence.
Do not too hastily take offence.
God moves his finger in mysterious ways.
By prudence, not by passion, be swayed.
All intentions are as scattered dust
When they contradict the divine plan.
If God tells me: "Till the land," I must.
Or: "Make yourself stronger," this I can.
Or: "You must die," His will must be done.
Thus perhaps I am not intended
To help my people gain their freedom.
Let not my people be held ransom.
Let them thrive, let them be defended.

From: Selected Poetry of Louis Riel

News from the Past: Schoolhouse Takeover

2011-04-28T02:00:00.000-05:00

St. Vincent School in its early days...

A lot of tramps took possession of the school house at St. Vincent, Minnesota, and after getting drunk used the school records for making a fire. It took all the town police officials and a number of citizens to lodge them in jail.

From: Manitoba Daily Free Press (Wednesday, 19 February 1890)

Reminiscing

2011-04-25T02:00:00.002-05:00

In photo (l to r): Uncle Charlie (Cresien) & Aunt Norma (Carrigan); a very young
Mike Rustad held by his father Alfred "Rusty" Rustad with his wife, Patricia
(Carrigan); and Aunt Virginia (Carrigan) with Uncle Al (Alfred Ducharme)
"This picture was taken right outside of our house in Humboldt. We
lived in town and my Dad worked on my Grandfather's farm. We moved
from Humboldt when I was 7 years old. I was the first grandchild on
both sides of the family - Rustad and Carrigan. At about that age,
I would entertain the residents of Grandma Carrigan's rest home in
East Grand Forks, Minnesota. I still seem to like the center stage!"
- Mike Rustad

Michael Rustad - What I remember most is that there were no vacation days when you had cows. I was fairly young around 7 or 8 when I was given the responsibility to change the bedding for the cows and it was always dark when I had to open up the barn door--which was sometimes frozen! Did you find it a relief of sorts to move into the town when your parents ran the cafe? I envied the town kids--Lofbergs, Boatzes, etc.

Keith Finney ¹ - Funny thing Mike. I used to go out to the Stewart's to help with chores. I remember Glen walking out to the farm north of Humboldt many days. That brings up a memory. Jay Hoglin and I had skiied out to Grandpa and Grandma Turner's farm one Sunday. We were hunting rabbits. We took supplies so we could melt snow and make some soup while we were out there. I remember it being a pretty nice winter day. It soon started to snow real hard so we started making our way back to Humboldt. We got back to Diamond's farm and started following the railroad track south. We had our hands full of skis, guns and supplies. We had the wind at our backs so we were staying warm. We had just passed the Stewart farm and still could not see the lights of Humboldt as it was storming so bad. Then the surprise! Bang! I bumped right into Ben² who was walking the tracks out to his farm to do chores. It surprised us all and when we all regained our composure we went our merry ways. One thing I remember was Ben was wearing a mackinaw which was wide open. (not buttoned), He was only wearing one glove as he had one off to carry his Lucky Strike. He was a hardy man. We then made our way home to our worried families and a warm home. Just another day in Humboldt.

¹ - Keith is my second cousin once removed - his grandmother Mary Fitzpatrick Finney was my grandfather Sheldon Albert Fitzpatrick's sister.

² - Ben was the nickname for Glen Stewart; sometimes he was called Big Ben...

New Book Features Local History

2011-04-22T02:00:00.000-05:00

A recently published book has references to local area events and locations...

...the rough and ready type common to the frontier gathered at local drinking establishments with names worthy of dime novels - "Dutch George's" and "O'Lone's Red Saloon" in Winnipeg, and "The Robber's Roost", "Dead Layout", and "The Ragged Edge" in Pembina.¹

From: Frontier Farewell: The 1870s and the End of the Old West By Garrett Wilson

¹ - In 1862, McKenney sold the Royal to “Dutch George” Emmerling, a recent arrival by way of the United States. McKenney then built the store which would become the hub of today’s famous corner of Portage and Main. From: First 50 Years Of Hotels In Winnipeg

...Colourful George Emmerling from Bavaria, a.k.a. “Dutch George” operated a small goods store for the settlers in the area and built the first hotel in 1885 (McIntyre Building). From: Manitoba Historical Society

Click to see large map showing some of the places mentioned above
[Keys to locations, listed below...]

Caption for above map reads - The above chart shows the location of the buildings public and private, in the village of Winnipeg proper (the centre of which was then as it is now, the corner of Main and Portage roads) in 1873. Two noted buildings adjoining the village, to the north – but not in the village – do not appear in the chart and should be mentioned here. These were Manitoba collage and the first Winnipeg public school, which stood not far from the present site of the C.P.R. buildings. The buildings shown have been carefully checked and their positions verified by old-time residents of Winnipeg. They are:

1. Fort Garry; 2. Dominion Lands Office; 3. Wm. Drever’s building; 4. ["Dutch George"] Red Saloon; 5. Holy Trinity Church; 6. Brian Devlin’s restaurant; Red River Hall or as it was sometimes called McDermot’s Row; 8. O. Manchamp’s Hotel; 9. Garrett House; 10. Indian Department; 11. Customs House; 12. Roman Catholic Convent; 13. Andrew McDermot’s Windmill; 14. Andrew McDermot’s residence; 15. Fire Hall; 16. Postoffice Building; 17. Parliament Buildings (in A.G.B. Bannatyne’s residence); 18 & 19. Bannatyne’s store and salt warehouse; 20. McKenny block, the first building erected in the village of Winnipeg; 21. White Saloon, kept by McIver and McIntyre (afterwards building of McIntyre block); 22. Davis Hotel, formerly kept by George Emmerling; 23. John Higgins’ Store; 24. F. Gingras’ building; 25. W.H. Lyon’s; 26. Henry Coutu’s Butcher Store; 27. Jail; 28. Archibald Wright’s; 29. J.H. Ashdown’s; 30. Dr. (afterwards Sir John) Schults’ drug store; 31. Free Press Office; 32 The Good Templars’ Hall, in which were the offices of the News Letter, Dr. Schults’ newspaper and the Manitoba Liberal; 33. Knox Church; 34. Steamboat Landing and small warehouse; 35. flat-boat stores on river, near levee; 36. Office of the goverenment newspaper, the Manitoban; 37. Thos. Lusted’s blacksmith shop; 38. Grace church; 39. Wm. Harvey’s livery stable; 40. A.M. Brown & Co.’s building; 41. Dr. Curtis J. Bird’s building; 42. A. Strang’s residence (Mr. Strang was then a clerk in Bannatyne’s store); 43. John Hackett’s Bakery; 44. brick block owned by Dr. Schultz; 45. Robert Stalker’s harness shop; 46. Royal Canadian (later Brouse’s) Hotel; 47. old Ross house residence of William Coldwell editor of the Manitoban; 48. Lyster Hayward’s (auctionear); 49. W. Palmer Clarke’s general store; 50. Alfred Boyd’s store; 51. Bernard R. Ross’ block; 52. shop shared by Wm. Chambers, gunsmith and Geo. D. Northgraces, jeweller and watchmaker; 53. Pride of the West billard saloon; 54. W. J. Macaulay’s lumber mill, men’s boarding house and office; 55. old tumble down corduroy bridge across Brown’s Creek, which crossed Main street at this point; 56. Brown’s Creek; 57. Merchants’ Hotel; 58. Immigration Sheds; 59. Alex McMicken’s bank; 60. Alex Begg’s soda water factory; 61. Dick and Banning’s sawmill; 62.residence of Duncan Sinclair, surveyor; 63. group of residences including reading from the river those of John Johnston, H. Hodges, Thos. Collins, Geo. E. Fulthorpe, James Irwin (city waterman), Matthew Davis, blacksmith, Thos. Jeffers, ferryman, Sam Spencer, drover, John Kennedy, registrar, Wm. McGaw, Alex Dunlop, then employee of Free Press and Stewart Mulvey; 64. Hudson’s Bay Company steamboat warehouse; 65. ferry from St. Boniface; 66. ferry across Assiniboine; 67. Thistle store; 68. John Higgins’ residence; 69. General Hospital (moved from centre of village down to this point about end of 1872); 70. St. Boniface Cathedral and college.

Source: Ingersoll, Will E. Location and Identity of Buildings in Village of Winnipeg 1872 [facsimile]. [1:4,500]. In: Alan F.J. Artibise and Edward H. Dahl. Winnipeg in Maps. Ottawa: National Map Collection Public Archives of Canada, 1975, p. 12. As reproduced by, National Map Collection Public Archives of Canada.

Compiled by Will E. Ingersoll from maps, records and archives for the Manitoba Free Press [Fiftieth Anniversary edition, Winnipeg November 9, 1922, p. 22]

Rivalry & Politicking: Geography is Destiny

2011-04-19T02:00:00.000-05:00

One of Dakota Territory's earliest territorial courts...

We first encountered the resistance to Pembina having serious territorial influence in 1872. It's now 1873, and the resistance intensifies...

Three male members of one family were pioneers in many legal and political matters in North Dakota.

The patriarch, Alanson H. Barnes, held the first territorial district court hearing in Bismarck and established the judicial seat for the district court in Fargo. His son-in-law, Alfred D. Thomas, became the first U.S. District Court judge from North Dakota. Another son-in-law, Evan S. Thomas, became the second mayor of Fargo and came within three votes of becoming the first governor of North Dakota.

On Nov. 7, 1873, the acting governor of Dakota Territory, Oscar Whitney, reassigned Judge Barnes from Yankton to Pembina but, under federal orders, rescinded the order on Dec. 11. On Jan. 10, 1874, the Department of Interior reinstituted Whitney’s original proclamation.

Instead of going to Pembina, Barnes located the federal court for District 3 in Fargo. There was no courthouse in Fargo, so the trials were often held in business establishments.

In addition to court sessions in Fargo, Barnes held quarterly hearings in Bismarck. The first U.S. District Court to meet there began on June 18, 1874.
...

In December 1874, Alexander McHench, a Fargo legislator, successfully pushed a bill through the territorial Legislature that officially transferred the court from Pembina to Fargo.

Seal of the territory of Dakota

For major trials and appeals in Dakota Territory, Barnes traveled to Yankton to meet with the other two justices of the Supreme Court. He also had to travel to Deadwood to conduct trials in southwestern Dakota Territory.

Because of this, Barnes was a major proponent of dividing the territory into North and South Dakota. During a session of the Supreme Court in 1875 in Yankton, he stated: “The people of the northern Dakota want a division of the territory because they are so far removed from southern Dakota that they do not feel any identity of interest.”

Enos Stutsman, a noted lawyer and legislator of early Dakota days, started the separation movement, but died in 1874.

Source: Fargo Forum

Spotlight: KCHS

2011-04-16T02:00:00.002-05:00

Readers of this blog may have noticed several sections on the right-hand sidebar. One of those sections contains links to various local and regional history sites. And one of those sites is for the Kittson County Historical Society.

KCHS consists of a board and large membership, individuals who care deeply about our county's rich history. Its public face is manifested in the Kittson County History Center & Museum in Lake Bronson, administered by Director Cindy Adams.

The Museum has an impressive collection of artifacts, many of which were donated by area families. But equally impressive - and an invaluable resource for locals and outsiders alike - are the records available for genealogical and local history research. While some of the museum's records may be available in other collections, much of the information is unique. For example, while you can obtain a transcribed copy of the Gamble letters from the State Historical Society of North Dakota's archives, you won't find the originals anywhere else except at KCHS.

Recently, the Society received a much deserved grant from the Minnesota Art & Cultural Fund¹ for conservation materials and training, vital in preserving many delicate paper items such as documents, newspapers, photographs, and other ephemera.

¹ - The Legacy Fund, as it's more commonly known, has been an amazing blessing to so many organizations in Minnesota for preserving our land, our culture, our arts, and our history.

Geographic Trivia

2011-04-13T02:00:00.010-05:00

From early on our area was unique, geographically & politically
[Click to enlarge]

It is often thought that the title was secured by the U.S. at no cost. However, the territory of the original Louisiana Purchase west of the Red River Valley does extend north of the 49th parallel.

Annexed by Britain in exchange for its cession of the Red River Valley, the northernmost parts of the Louisiana Purchase are the only North American territory ever ceded by the United States to a foreign power.

The region was sparsely populated until Ojibwe claims to the most fertile portions of the valley were extinguished in the Treaty of Old Crossing (1863), after which it opened rapidly to agricultural development and settlement in the 1870s and 1880s. The area is one of several distinct regions of Minnesota.

From Red River Valley

The Returns from Pembina

2011-04-10T02:00:00.000-05:00

President Cleveland once asked Bishop Whipple what would be the effect of making the Indians voters. Then Bishop Whipple told him that it had been tried, and after listening to the story, President Cleveland gave up the idea....

1876 was a very contested
election in general...

In Dakota territorial days a law was passed allowing Indians wearing civilized dress to vote. In the following election, when both sides were claiming the victory, some one said: "Wait until you hear from Pembina." In Pembina lived a large number of the Pembina tribe of Indians, and there also dwelt the local political boss, "Jud" La Moure, famed for his sealskin overcoat and his qualities as a political fighter. When the returns came in from Pembina, it was found that the members of the tribe had all been put into hickory shirts and trousers on election day, between sunrise and sunset, and after exercising the inalienable rights of citizenship, at the dictation of the local boss, they returned again to their blankets, having decided the territorial election.

From: The Bourbon News (Paris, KY) November 12, 1901

Downtown up in Flames!

2011-04-07T02:00:00.002-05:00

Source: The Minneapolis journal, October 20, 1904

Putting Faces to the Names

2011-04-04T02:00:00.001-05:00

I have written about Les Eddington several times. While doing research on another subject, I came across this rather dashing photo of him in uniform, in the book Heritage '76: Pembina County, North Dakota Then & Now.