Pembina County at 150: Historical Automobile Dealers

Where Have All The Car Dealers Gone?
by Jim Benjaminson


Gregory Ford's announcement last week that they are giving up their Ford Motor Company franchise after 58 years of sales brings to a close a long history of Ford sales in Cavalier —stretching all the way back to 1906. As Gregory's fold their tent for new car sales, Pembina County is left with just two automobile retailers – Soeby Motors (also Ford dealers) in Walhalla and the recently opened Birchwood Motors (GM dealers) in Cavalier.

Several years ago, the late Maxine (Fiedler) Least approached me during the annual Pioneer Machinery Show at the Pembina County Museum and asked if I had ever compiled a list of the implement dealers that had done business in Pembina County. Maxine's father was one of the principals in Fiedler & Moe, a John Deere agency in Cavalier. I had to admit that I hadn't but since our conversation I've made it a practice to note the names of various automobile and implement dealers—a random collection of notes that is far from complete – but continues to grow. The automobile and farm equipment business has changed over these past 111 years. In the old days nearly every community had an “agent” selling the latest car or tractor of some sort. In memory of Maxine and all those who have been involved in selling cars, trucks, tractors and motorcycles here is an incomplete history.


Pembina County's first Ford agency was granted to James Lang of Cavalier in 1906. His appointment named him “agent for Pembina County”. The first Fords sold, three identical 14-horsepower Model N “Light Tourings” arrived by rail in Cavalier that March and were sold to merchants D. E. Schweitzer, Charles Burgess and banker Ed Stong. They were not, however, the first automobiles sold in Cavalier but were the seventh, eighth and ninth automobiles in the city. Two years later (the same year the Model T Ford debuted) Lang and business partner Thomas G. McConnell formed the “Cavalier Garage & Automobile Company”, doing business out of a large brick building on the corner of East Main and Division Streets. Their business announcement stated they would continue selling Fords and “other favorite autos” in addition to handling “auto fixtures and supplies” and “do all kinds of repairing” plus add an “auto livery business”.

James Lang has the distinction of placing the first ad for an automobile in the Cavalier Chronicle in the June 26, 1908 issue. Found on page 4 the ad featured a line drawing of two Ford runabouts – the ad ran for the next six issues without change. Lang also gets credit for placing the second automobile ad in the paper, beginning with the March 19, 1909 issue, advertising both a $500 Maxwell and an $850 Ford, this ad running for twelve weeks. Lang was a busy man as he, along with partner George Horn, started the Cavalier electric light plant. By 1916 the local Ford dealership was taken over by G. A. Westline and Peter Freschett. Two years later Westline and Freschett were out of the Ford business, being replaced by Akra's Thorwaldson Brothers who would run the business until the mid 1930's, Westline took on the Essex line in 1919 while Freschette later picked up Pontiac and Oakland.

Trivia [answers at bottom]

• How many automobiles were in Cavalier in 1905?
• What year did the new hotel in Glasston open? 
• What year did Cavalier remove the hitching posts from Main Street?

Following the end of World War Two S & T Motors opened a Ford agency in Cavalier on September 18, 1946. Owned by Bob Tomlinson of Devils Lake and Clarence Smerud of Minneapolis, a new brick building was built to house their facilities. Tomlinson soon left the business which operated until 1958 when Mr. Smerud passed away unexpectedly. The agency was then sold to Oliver Gregory who took over the business April 1st, 1959. A new dealership facility was built on the south of edge of Cavalier, opening in 1962 where the business is still located.

Soeby Ford of Walhalla, which can proudly claim the distinction of being the oldest dealership in Pembina County traces its roots back to 1926 when C. K. Soeby acquired the Oakland and Pontiac car and International truck franchise. C. K. Soeby became a Ford dealer in 1930, passing the business along to his son Jack in 1948 who in turn passed it on to his sons in 1986. Another long time Walhalla dealer was A. O. Tetrault, whose Walhalla Motor Company held the Ford franchise in 1926, a year that would see a first in the delivery of new Fords when the first load of “completely built up” Ford cars arrived—previously dealers had to install items such as lights, wheels, tires and fenders before delivery could be made to a retail customer.

Harold Morrison and Freeman Levi built a new building “two blocks south of the post office” under the name of Cavalier Implement, selling Case farm equipment in May of 1944. By 1952 they added the Pontiac and Willys line of automobiles using the business name Cavalier Motor & Implement. Discontinuing selling farm equipment and moving to a new location on the west edge of Cavalier the new building was lost to fire Christmas Eve, 1959. Rebuilding on the same spot and re-named Cavalier Motors, it had the distinction of being named “Studebaker's newest dealer” in 1960. The business, which continued to sell Pontiac, was sold to Olson Motors in 1962. Down the street, Page Oil Company, which had been selling Oldsmobiles since 1941, took on the Rambler line in time to introduce the 1959 models.

Like S & T Motors several other dealerships were opened in Cavalier following WWII. Melsted-Olson Motors built a new brick building one block further south of the new S & T building, selling Chevrolet cars and trucks as well as Massey-Harris farm equipment. Kuball & Andrews, which had been in operation since before the war (Ole Andrews having been a Chrysler dealer since 1927), continued to sell Dodge and Plymouth cars in addition to Lehr's “Big Boy” tractors. Utilizing a Chrysler engine, Dodge truck 5-speed transmission and 2 speed differential, the “Big Boy” sold for $2,136 in 1948 and had a “road gear” good for 22 miles per hour. Letzring Motor & Implement which had previously sold Hudson and Terraplanes in Neche was also selling Chrysler products along with Allis-Chalmers tractors in Cavalier. Kuball's sold the Dodge-Plymouth agency to Erwin Herzog in May of 1956. Twenty years later Erwin sold the business to his son Tim, who later sold the business to Swanson Motors in September of 1999. Jack McPherson began selling Kaiser automobiles in 1950 and its companion compact car Henry J in 1952. A post war start-up company, Kaiser-Fraser dealers also included Andre Gratton at Walhalla and Hughes & Shaver at St. Thomas.


Auto and implement dealers weren't just centered in the larger towns of the county. Robert Halcrow, whose address was Nowesta, was an agent for the Lambert automobile in 1913; he is noted as having “brought a cow to town in a box wagon behind his auto”. It's claimed he made the eleven mile trip to town “in one hour and went home considerably faster”. In later years Halcrow Ford would be one of Drayton's leading automobile dealers. Drayton's early pioneer car dealer R. J. Moore began handling the E-M-F line in 1912 - named after the three principals of the company, Everitt, Metzger and Flanders - detractors claimed the initials stood for “Every Man's Failure” or “Every Morning Fixit”. It was later absorbed by Studebaker.

Over at Hamilton C. A. Morton's Auto Livery advertised they were agents for the Vulcan, Buick and Marathon brands and had “one 25-horsepower Marathon touring car used a little for demonstrating which will sell at a nice reduction." Any of the cars on hand could be bought “on one years time with first-class security at 7 percent interest.” By 1921 E. K. Evenson was selling Fords at both Hamilton and Neche. H. C. Thomson of Bowesmont was also selling the popular Ford line. George Paxman had been the Hamilton Ford agent as well as the Overland and Willys-Knight dealer. A disastrous fire July 7, 1918 destroyed the Paxman building but 5 new Overland cars were saved. At Hensel, H. J. Norman & Son were also selling Fords while Graham & Ross sold Republic trucks. In later years Frank Gillis would handle the International line in Hensel, eventually selling out to Art Anderson. Other International dealers included Glenn Morrison in Cavalier, and Neche Farm Equipment in that city.

Crystal's Bradley & Hunter were sales agent for the Racine, Wisconsin built Mitchell in 1912 while the Crystal Auto Company was selling Hudsons by the car load, adding the Studebaker line in 1917 and Essex, Overland and Willys Knight two years later. A man by the name of Bymaster later took over the Crystal Mitchell agency. G. G. Thompson of Pembina was also selling Mitchell's in 1912, with his territory carrying over to St. Vincent, Minnesota. By 1915 Thompson was a Maxwell dealer. At Mountain S. F. Steinolfson was selling Ford's while G. M. Benjaminson (his name was always misspelled as C. M. Benjaminson in newspaper ads) was selling Pontiac's and Oakland's in Gardar. Peter Freschette, earlier Cavalier's Ford dealer also took on the Pontiac-Oakland line in 1927.

As small town America dwindled several dealerships continued to run successful businesses. Louis Byron Motors sold Pontiacs after the war and were long-time Chrysler-Plymouth dealers in Mountain. Likewise, Dietrich Motors in Crystal sold DeSoto's and Plymouths while Christopher Motors at Pembina, which dated back to the 1920's sold Chevrolets well into the 1960's.

Among the more noted implement dealers have been Cavalier's Fiedler & Moe (John-Deere), Pembina's Meagher Brothers (Massey-Harris), Glenn Morrison (International Harvester), Hamilton's Frank White & Ernest Einarson (Minneapolis-Moline), and J. J. Myers, Mountain (Holt combines).

At least three Pembina County residents saw the demand for motorcycles, with B. S. Thorwaldson of Akra (a partner in Thorwaldson Brothers at Cavalier) selling the 11-horsepower Harley-Davidson Twin, Martin Brothers of Hamilton handling the Indian line (ride it to work and ride it for fun) and Svold's August Vivatson offering Wagner Motorcycles at prices ranging from $160 to $200.

There was always something special about going to “show day” - when the new models were introduced to the public. Coffee, doughnuts, trinkets, colorful brochures and new cars. What could be better? Sadly there's not as many places to go anymore.

Trivia answers

5

1904

1905

Pembina County at 150: The Painter & the Pugilist

Jim Benjaminson is a local historian from Pembina County, North Dakota.  This year is the sesquicentennial of Pembina County, and in celebration of that, Jim has been writing a column for the Pembina New Era entitled, "Pembina County at 150".  The column has been running a few months now, and recently I invited Jim to serialize his fascinating history columns here on the blog. He graciously agreed.  This is the first one...




The Painter & the Pugilist: Two Former County Residents You've Probably Never Heard Of

Simply put, Birdeen Gibson was an artist. Born in Oregon in 1913 but growing up in Neche, the daughter of Augusta “Gussie” (Hughes) Gibson graduated in a class of 21 from Neche High School in the spring of 1931. Times were tough and jobs were scarce but Birdeen managed to make a little money by making sketches using India ink on white paper. Her favorite subjects – Lincoln and sailing ships. A March 1934 family letter told of her selling “the largest size (4x5) for 35 cents” , with smaller drawings selling for 25 or 30 cents. It was mentioned “she's sold 18 now.”

Unable to afford to go to college, her art work came to the attention of Dr. Ernie Coon of the University of North Dakota. In a February 28, 1934 letter Birdeen wrote Dr. Coon's wife, Jennie, stating “I want to let you know how greatly I appreciate your taking an interest in me”. Dr. Coon had spoken with a UND art professor who said he felt there was a possibility of getting her “a CWA job”. Skilled as a typist and in shorthand, Birdeen owned a typewriter (which had been purchased for her by her mother), skills that would soon prove to come in handy. She continued “I have entered two different art contests conducted by the Federal Art School in Minneapolis. Both times I received a part scholarship but the entire course is too expensive for me, so I have been unable to take advantage of it.” Another portion of her letter mentioned the ink drawings she had been selling and thanked the Coons for their interest in her.

Birdeen's sister Sally wrote the Coons that “Birdeen is certainly a nice girl in every way. She's quiet, but once you get to know her, she's very likeable”.

Sorority Girl - Delta Phi Delta
Birdeen Gibson's school portrait
[UND/1939]

By September 1934, Birdeen, along with her mother and brother Ray, traveled to Minneapolis where Birdeen would continue on to Waterloo, Iowa. She had been told “there was a man there giving lessons on painting—a professor—who wanted to see what talent she had before he would accept her as a student”. That man was Count Odon de Szaak of Pest, Hungary. How much time Birdeen spent with him is unknown. Birdeen enrolled in the art program at UND working for “room and board” doing “Federal work, getting an education and her living besides” utilizing her typing and shorthand skills. She would graduate from the University with the spring class of 1939.

A photograph—and picture she painted of herself—graced the front page of the Dakota Student (UND) newspaper of April 28, 1939. The caption read “Birdeen Gibson saw herself as others see her when in eight hours before a mirror she made this self-portrait. Produced in her home in Neche, N.D., this painting is but one of a series of her works, some of which have been on exhibition in London and Paris. A senior, majoring in art, Miss Gibson has studied under the famed Count Odon de Szaak of Des Moines, Iowa.” The 1940 census records that she was working as a secretary in Neche. When her brother left for the West Coast to work for Boeing, she apparently moved west as well. Little is known of her activities except that she married a man named Donald Cisney on July 22, 1950. Birdeen had no children and passed away at the age of 66 August 30, 1979.

Although her name may not be well known, as least one of her paintings is. She is one of many artists who have painted “Christ Knocking on the Door”. An Internet search reveals many different versions, yet none of Birdeen's were found during research for this story. There are at least three of her “Christ Knocking on the Door” paintings in the immediate area. One is displayed in the dining area of the Cavalier Methodist “Chocolate” Church. Another hangs in the sanctuary of Drayton's Methodist Episcopal Church—a church built of Drayton produced brick in 1905 that also has a unique “disappearing” wall. A third painting hangs in the Presbyterian Church at Calvin, North Dakota.

How many other similar paintings exist is unknown. Do any of her sketches still exist? And what other works of art did she produce during her lifetime? Truly a woman of mystery!

Our second subject is also a man of mystery – much more so than Birdeen Gibson. James Barry claimed to have been born in St. Vincent, Minnesota but called Drayton home. Or was he born in Culbertson, Montana – or did he live in Chicago, East Grand Forks or Petaluma, California? Perhaps we should mention that Jim Barry wasn't his real name. At various times in his life he claimed his real name was Louis Edgar Rogers; at other times it was Hugh Edgar Rogers. And his birth date – was it August 12, 1886 – or August 7, 1887 or August 10, 1887? At one point in an interview that appeared in the Bismarck Tribune May 28, 1916, he claimed “Jim Barry isn't my name at all, and I'm not Italian as everyone believes. My real name is Hugh Edgar Rogers. My father was Jarvis A. Rogers, from County Antrim, Belfast. My mother was a full-blooded Sioux Indian (there are claims she was French-Canadian Metis). They've always said I was from Chicago, when, as a matter of fact, I've hardly ever been there over night. I lived at Drayton, N.D., with my folks, including six other brothers. I'm the youngest and the smallest of them all.”

One thing we know for sure, his father's name was Rogers although he was known simply as “Rog” to most people. And he had been a mail carrier between Grand Forks and Pembina from 1868-71, carrying the mail by sleigh, dogs or on foot during the dead of winter.

Louis Edgar Rogers, aka Jim Barry (1910)

So who is this man of mystery with so many different names and birth dates? A criminal hiding from the law? A man on the run from alimony and child support payments? No – Jim Barry was a pugilist – a prize fighter of some renown.  A man who was the last of the bare knuckle fighters, who John L. Sullivan claimed would one day be heavyweight champion of the world. And he probably would have succeeded had it not been for his battles with gambling, drugs and booze. Sullivan himself was a well-known rounder who took Barry under his wing, teaching him his “tricks” in the ring. There were times when Sullivan's partying “required” him to pawn a championship belt studded with hundreds of diamonds, a belt estimated to be worth $10,000 in the late 1880's. At one point, the belt was rumored to be in Jim Barry's possession when it “disappeared”, not to be found until after Barry's death – minus its diamonds. It's reported that the belt is now owned by the Smithsonian.

Weighing in at 192 pounds and standing 5 feet 10 3/4” tall, Jim Barry had a 42 inch chest and a reach of 73 1/2”. Making his professional debut April 4, 1904, Barry won 25 matches, 18 by knock outs, lost 24 matches, 10 by being knocked out and fought to a draw in 5 matches. A formidable opponent, the Los Angeles Herald in its November 6, 1908 issue reported Barry was scheduled to go 10 rounds with Joe Flynn. Barry, who outweighed Flynn by 20 pounds, placed a $200 bet against Flynn's $160 that he would win the match. The Tonopah, Nevada Daily Bonanza reported “Jim Barry of Chicago had the better of a 10 round bout with Jim Flynn of Pueblo before the Pacific Athletic Club tonight. Barry showed fine form and landed terrible blows to Flynn's body and jaw throughout but was unable to stop the fireman.”

Calling Barry and Al (the California Hercules) Kaufman the “mastodons of pugilism” the L.A. Herald commented in its December 27, 1908 issue that “no human being can stand up under the best punch (that) Barry or Kaufmann is capable of handing out.” In a run-up match as contenders for the world's heavyweight title Kaufman knocked out Barry in the 39th round of a scheduled 45-round fight.

Eyeing the world championship, Denver's Franklin's Paper of October 9, 1909 reported “Jack Johnson the world's champion pugilist, intends to make a grand cleanup of the heavyweights before he meets Jim Jeffries, Stanley Ketchel in October, Al Kaufman (the California Hercules) and “Philadelphia Jack” O'Brien in a return engagement.” The article continued “Jim Barry, the Chicago Slugger, who has been hurling challenges right and left, may also be taken on by the champion”. The same paper in its November 27th edition, reported Johnson defeated Tommy Burns in 12 rounds for the world title. He fought Kaufmann, O'Brien, Barry and Ketchel and “a few others” for the world's title which he now holds. Among that list of fighters was Sam Langford, a Negro many white fighters refused to go up against because of the “color barrier”. Langford held the middleweight crown after defeating all other middleweights when Papke refused to fight him before moving into the heavyweight ranks.

Sam Langford and Jim Barry had a longtime relationship, Barry not being stopped by the color of a man's skin. The two first paired off in September of 1907, fighting each other 16 times, their last match taking place in March of 1913 in Australia, with Langford defeating Barry each time although two matches were called as a draw. Both the Tacoma, Washington Times and Chicago's Day Book reported on the March 1913 fight, the Times terse two sentence article reading “Sam Langford won from Jim Barry in one round. We should worry.” The Day Book's article gave a few more details - “Sam Langford, the Negro heavyweight, knocked out Jim Barry of Chicago in the first round at Brisbane, Australia.”

Traveling to Australia for a series of five fights in 1912 for promoter Hugh McIntosh of Sydney, Jim Barry defeated Bill Lang, former heavyweight champion of Australia in one round; it would be his only Australian win. On the return trip home, Barry was arrested when the S.S. Zealandia docked in Vancouver, British Columbia. Charged with assault it was reported Barry had “lost at cards and then started a rough house.”

The March 15, 1913 fight with Sam Langford brought a temporary halt to Barry's boxing career – he wouldn't return to the ring again until June 30, 1916. Little is known of his activities during that time period except for discovery of an “emergency passport” issued by the U.S. Embassy in London. In it Barry claimed to have left the United States in December of 1912—the December 10th Tacoma Times reported him “visiting in Tacoma” having recently returned from “the Antipodes and is now ready to meet anybody in the ring.” His “visit” to Tacoma was to act as referee at a “smoker”. Three months later he would fight Langford in Australia. How or why he ended up in England is unknown. It is known Barry entered a New York hospital upon his return to the U.S. for treatment for cocaine addiction —at the time cocaine and other hard drugs were legal to possess and use.

The Ogden, Utah Standard of May 8, 1916 revealed “Jim Barry, who was a worry to all the heavyweights 5 or 6 years ago, is now planning a return to the fight game. Barry has the reputation of having fought Sam Langford with varying results, 16 different times. He is now in training earnestly and thinks he will soon be in trim to cross bats with Coffey, Al Weinert or Moran.”. On June 6th Barry stepped into the ring against “Battling” Lavinsky – and lost. He would go up against “Sailor Jack” Carroll in July, Jim Smith in August and Billy Miske in September. All with the same dreadful results.

His final fight came in March of 1917, against another black fighter, Sam McVea. Only this fight would take place in Colon, Panama. Stepping into the ring with McVea March 11th, he was “floored for the count” in the sixth round. The next days Panama Star & Herald had a different story to reveal about Jim Barry. Barry had been shot and killed in the Lobby Hotel in Colon by a gambler known as C. Jerrett, aka “Tex” Martin.

According to news reports “Martin accosted Barry in the Lobby Hotel bar and Barry pushed him back, saying he didn't want anything to do with him. (There had been an altercation between them in Panama City the previous day, stemming from a disagreement over a gambling debt.) Martin then pulled a Colt 44 and shot Barry three times. Barry staggered out of the bar and fell dead. Martin was quickly arrested after the shooting and later stood trial for murder. Apparently it was found that Martin had been threatened by Barry, was acting in self-defense, and was released”. Martin was later reported to have been killed in San Antonio, Texas.

Thus ended the career of Jim Barry, aka Louis Rogers, aka Hugh Rogers. Find-a-Grave lists him being buried in the Drayton Cemetery. Cemetery records compiled by the Red River Valley Historical Society do not list any Rogers or Jim Barry as being buried anywhere in Pembina County. Even in death, Jim Barry is still a man of mystery.

Pembina County Trivia

1. Who was the first recorded farmer in what is now Pembina County?
2. Where was this farm located?
3. What year was the O’Brien Hotel in Neche built?

Answers

1. The first known farmer in what is now Pembina County was Charles Bottineau.
2. Bottineau's farm was located on land now farmed by the Horsley Family of Neche.
3. The O'Brien Hotel in Neche was built in 1895 at a cost of $14,000. It’s known today as the L&M Bar.  

Local Veterans of World War I - Part I

We are in the midst of the Centennial years of WWI. Many men from Kittson County fought in the "Great War", or the "War to End All Wars". As we know all too well, sadly it didn't end all wars. If you want to find out more about who fought from Kittson County, you can view online the book that was written all about that - The History of Kittson County in the World War.

A few examples of local WWI veterans; I will be sharing more in the near future...



When I was growing up, I knew Eli Gooselaw as a tall, quiet old man who lived across the pasture from our house, north of the St. Vincent Cemetery.  His house was a 2-storey wood clapboard, the paint long ago weathered off.

Outside nearby, he had a tall wood pile, stacked up in the form of a tipi. From what I could tell, he never used the wood,  nor burned it.  It just stood like a sentinel over the years.

The house had old-fashioned tall, sashed windows, that reflected full-moon moonlight so brightly that you swore Eli  (who never used electric lights) had lights on - especially his upstairs' north bedroom.

But back in 1917, Eli "...enlisted in the Army at East Grand Forks ... because they were drafting men. This was the time of World War I, and most of his two years of service were spent in China. Eli was one of the few people who could say he'd been to the big cities of China - Tientsen, Shanghai, and Chin-huang-taoo, along with Tokyo, Japan, the Philippine Islands and Hawaiian Islands."



Fred Gooselaw was born and raised in St. Vincent.  He was the son of Zeb and Joset (Parenteau) Gooselaw.

He became a barber and ran his own barbershop in St. Vincent, then Humboldt prior to WWI. In October 1918 he was shipped off to France as an Engineer Sapper, as part of the October Automatic Replacement Draft.¹

After the war, he carried on being a barber, and eventually moved to Montana, continuing his profession there.

He named his firstborn son, Pershing, born in August 1918, in honor of General Pershing.







James Lang was born in rural Kittson County, Minnesota.  He was the second son of Joseph and Margaret Lang, and farmed with his father.

He then went to fight in the First World War. After returning, he resumed farming until 1955; then he retired. He moved to Humboldt and never married.
























Born in Ontario, Canada of German immigrant parents, Christopher A. Thedorf, Jr. came to St. Vincent as a small child.  The Thedorf family lived in the middle of the town, by the house that would eventually be my grandparents' second home after they moved out, when my parents took over the homestead. Chris' father, Mr. Thedorf, was the proprietor of the Thedore Hotel in St. Vincent.

According to the 1910 U.S. Census, Chris was working then as a bartender in a St.Vincent saloon.  As the article to the left states, in July 1917 he volunteered into the military, choosing the Marine Corps.  The United States had declared war in April 1917 but didn't send forces (under General Pershing) until 1918, so Chris was an early participant in the war.

After the war, he married, moved to St. Paul, MN, and began working for the railroad as both a locomotive engineer, and fireman...










Hugh Lucas was a compositor and printer for the Emerson International newspaper in the late 1800s and worked there with J.E. Bouvette. He was also a carpenter and built his first home in St. Vincent with his own hands, or so the story goes.

Why Hugh felt it was important to volunteer in WWI when he was beyond the normal age is not known, but as you can read at left, he was well thought of by his fellow soldiers. He was a veteran when he went into the service again, having been in the cavalry in the late 1800s.

The article to the left states that he went into the Remount Corps upon enlistment, which was part of the Quartermasters Corps.













______________

¹ - October Automatic Replacement Draft: It means that a man was scheduled to be a replacement for a battle casualty right from the start. Usually the army waited to see what a man could do or where he was actually needed before assigning him a specific job. By October of 1918 the casualty rate was climbing and they were sending men over at an incredible rate. New draftees were barely receiving any training at all before shipping out. To fill the gaps caused by casualties, they started assigning men to be rifle men just as soon as a block of them were called up (or in this case, an engineer sapper...) The program was initiated in October. Had the war gone on longer, as many thought it would, there would have been many more 'replacement drafts'.

Water Cooler III: Further Down Memory Lane

This time, the water cooler chatter turned to our neighboring town - and good friends - Humboldt, MN.

Michael Rustad My Mother, Pat Carrigan Rustad, would have been 88 today. She died in 1989 at age 63.

Dan Ducharme So young

Cleo Bee Jones For sure, way too young

Donald Reese I think your dad was one of my closest friends.  I think he passed haway younger than that. I don't remember at what age...

Michael Rustad Dad passed away in 1986 at age 63.

Connie Lang Fowler I've already passed my mother's death by 16 years as well and all of the above died young as they say!

Maury Finney She and your Pop were super people!!! Great Humboldt memories!!

Michael Rustad Dad loved everyone in Humboldt. I remember him taking me to hear your Mom play the piano in the town hall. We actually had pretty vibrant town hall parties where everyone danced, roller-skated, played basketball. I think my Dad was just in love with Humboldt and everyone in the community. In all of his years, I never once ever heard him say anything remotely negative about anyone. Think the best of people was his watchword or his motto.

Cleo Bee Jones Sounds right...the more one thinks about it all, up there, the more one misses that way of life, my eyes leak so much when I remember all the people, friends, relatives, and just the life style and all...

Michael Rustad I was speaking last night with Aunt Norma and she told me that they would clear out the living room and have a house party with 50 or more. Everyone brought food and BYOB. She said she misses those house parties and where you can talk to your neighbor.

Maury Finney I really think when and where we grow up, we are so influenced by the community around us...Your mom and dad along with so many in Humboldt mentored a positive attitude and kindness. We were so fortunate to get our start there.

Donald Reese You're on-the-job education in a little community like Humboldt, including the surrounding farmers, really could be used for a foundation for your future,  I remember being interviewed at my workplace for an apprenticeship in maintenance job and was asked where I got my mechanic ability; my response was you don't grow up on a farm in Minnesota without knowing which end of the wrench to use. I got the job.

One of Our Own

"Music bubbles out of me..."
[Poster created by Nancy Ansari]

Cleo Bee [Wang] Jones is a St. Vincent native.  Cleo's grandmother was a Lang, and her mother was a Turner. The Langs and Turners, much like the Gambles, left big footprints on St. Vincent and its history.  In her own right, Cleo became more than the little village could contain.  Rightly so, she went out into the bigger world and shared her gift - her "Great Voice"...

[The following is an excerpt from a 2012 APG article]

Cleo Bee has something to look forward to: On Sept. 9, 2012 she will be inducted into the South Dakota Country Music Hall of Fame. This will be her second such honor — she was inducted into the Minnesota Rock and County Hall of Fame in 2007.

Cleo, 72, was born in St. Vincent, Minn. (population 64) and sang all over the country before she moved to Hayward with her husband, when he retired in 2006. She has a voice and a talent — and most of all, a love for song.

Her gift became apparent in second grade when her teacher asked the class if they knew what a four-leaf clover was. Before anyone could answer, Cleo stood up and said it was a song. Then she sang “I’m Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover.”

“I sang and they clapped and that’s all it took to start the whole thing,” said Cleo, who has never had a voice lesson in her life.

In high school she sang in a dance band, recalling Bill Haley’s “Rock Around the Clock” and Jerry Lee Lewis’ “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On.” But she said she was most influenced by the powerful voices of Kay Starr and Mahalia Jackson, before rock ‘n roll arrived on the music scene.

Also while in high school, she said she was snuck in the back door of the Eagles Club to perform onstage with a group that was there from Arkansas. She was 16.

Cleo won a talent contest that year and went to New York City to audition for the Ted Mack Amateur Hour. Her two aunts traveled with her. There were about 500 contestants, she said, and she waited for hours before it was her turn to get onstage where she sang “Mr. Wonderful” and “On the Street Where You Live.”

“I didn’t make the cut that night,” she said, but shortly thereafter she won third place in the 1957-58 finals Amateur Show sponsored by the Associated Canadian Travelers and held in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Cleo said she was the only winner from the U.S.

Cleo married, had two daughters and moved to Minneapolis, where she soon became a popular singer.

Her big break came in 1968 when she joined the Sherwin Linton Show, entertaining in ballrooms, nightclubs, lounges and touring the country in the band bus. The Golden Nugget in Las Vegas was often their venue.

Cleo said that over the years she worked with George Jones, Tammy Wynette, Dottie West, George Hamilton, Tex Ritter and Buck Owens.

In 1977 Cleo wrote a song and sang some of her favorites, along with duets with Linton, on a cassette, which was later released on CD. Some of the selections were recorded live at the South Dakota State Penitentiary on Aug. 9, 1971.

When she left the Sherwin Linton Show, tired of the travel, Cleo became the featured singer at Louie’s Inn in Dresser, Wis., and the house band was soon named “The Honeycomb.”

“No more buses but we sometimes performed six nights a week,” she said.

Cleo kept that pace for four years and then remarried and moved to Rochester, Minn. She stopped singing in 1980 and said she missed it terribly.

“It was horrifying. I would sing in the car on long trips, in the house, anyplace — it drove my husband nuts,” she said.

Twenty years later she performed again with the Sherwin Linton Show and repeated those performances a few times in cities in Minnesota and North Dakota.

Cleo Bee, as she is today...

She said one of her most memorable performances was at her mother’s memorial service which was scheduled on Sept. 11, 2001, the day terrorists attacked New York City and the Twin Towers fell.

“Mom wanted me to sing at her funeral, and after all that had happened that day, I sang ‘America the Beautiful.’ There wasn't a dry eye in the place,” she said.

Cleo still sings locally. She has guested with “Molly and the Danger Band,” has sung at the Stone Lake Cranberry Luncheon and the Hayward High School 50th Reunion with some members of The Honeycomb.

Music has made her life rich, she said, through travel and meeting wonderful people.

“Music and opportunities — that’s who I was and who I am. Music bubbles out of me,” she said.

Solitary House in the Woods

Is this house the oldest surviving home in St. Vincent...?

This house, located all by itself in a woods that covers its entire block, is just west of the St. Vincent School.  To be a bit more specific, it's near the southwest corner of the block.  I went by that house hundreds of times when I lived in St. Vincent growing up.  It was near the corner of our own road going north, and as long as I can remember, no one lived there.

I wondered who had built it, why no one lived there now, and why that particular block of land was never cleared or anyone else built on it.

As I prepared for the St. Vincent town reunion earlier this year, I was making new connections with people who have old connections with the town itself through the St. Vincent Memories' Facebook page.  I learned  new things from them about the town.  This very house came up in conversation, and I attempted to find out something definitive.

Who lived here?

This is what I was able to find out, mostly in this one, long thread:

Blue Star Grandmother

There were many mothers & grandmothers across America like
Mrs. Lang during WWII [Image Courtesy: Lang family descendants]
                                    - CLICK TO ENLARGE - 

Curling Memories

Curling stone (or rock)
used in St. Vincent rink
[Courtesy:  Matt Cleem]

The curling rock (or stone) at left was recently shared on the St. Vincent Town Reunion Facebook page.  It brought out many memories from people who had grown up in and around St. Vincent, and had a connection to the St. Vincent Curling Rink...

Cleo Bee (Lang) Jones - I recall going to the St.Vincent curling rink with my uncle Laurence Turner when I was pretty young...

Trish Short Lewis - I was in the rink only a few times, saw a few older people curling.  I don't know if they ever had a warming house portion of the rink, but when I was there, it was always freezing on the bleachers in the front area, so I'd usually beat a fast path back to Grandma's house a block away...

Phil "Jack" Gooselaw - This we called a curling "rock" and may be one of the ones we used during the late 50's at the St. Vincent curling rink. My dad Manuel, Uncle Lewis Gooselaw, Dave Gooselaw and I had a curling team the last couple winters I was there prior to my graduation from high school (1960) and going into the Navy. As an aside, I was in the Navy for 2 weeks when I rcvd news that Dad had had a heart attack and passed away while throwing one of these rocks in a game (Feb. 1960)...

Delphine (Beaudette) Mundorf - Our Grandpa (Trish) use to curl. His team made it in the winning bracket and they came to Bemidji one year. I was so proud to watch my Grandpa curling. So exciting. I was quite young when Grandpa curled in Bemidji. I think they won and went on to state but not sure about that. Just know it was so exciting to watch him out there on the rink. I don't even remember for sure if he was the stone thrower or if he was one of the sweepers. But I think he threw the stone. I might have been around 12 then so would have been around 1950.

Judy (Turner) Ziesman - I remember when your dad passed away. I was pretty little, but I remember standing outside your house and talking to Denise and Debbie while everyone was in the house. Back then they would have the viewing at the house. I don't know how long after our family bought and moved into your house. My mom and dad always talked highly of Manuel [Gooselaw]. Sadly a few years later my dad passed away also. I think my dad was at the rink when your dad had his heart attack. I spent a lot of time at the rink.  I had my first lesson on that rink, they made it look so easy....little did I know!

Keith Finney - I remember the first time I curled. Herb Easter had a conflict so he could not curl one night. He gave me his shoes, broom and gloves and sent me to the rink. Almost put the rock through the end first time I delivered a rock. Herb forgot to give me instructions. :)

Dorothy (Giffen) Barber - I will never forget that night. Don was curling and saw Manuel when he threw the rock and slumped on the ice. He came home and told me about it. It was such a sad time.

Jake Rempel from Halbstadt, Manitoba shared: The Emerson Curling Club used to borrow the Rocks from St Vincent when they still had bonspiels in the shating rink in Emerson (right after New Year's). Lawrence Calder liked to tell the story of crossing the Border and as it happened an American from farther South was at the Customs and asked what they were? Curling Rocks. "What is Curling" It’s a game – you throw them 160 ft and see who can get them closest to the centre to win the game ! "Wow ! I would like to see the people that throw them!"

Betty (Short) Thorsvig had fond memories of hanging out in the rink; Jamie (Rustad) Meagher thinks her father also curled there.

Interview: Beth Lapp

Elizabeth Lapp in 1948
[Courtesy:  Digital Archive, UMC] 

Thanks to Kristine Baldwin Ohmann, who facilitated our get together, I interviewed one of the oldest living natives (and a resident) of St. Vincent last weekend.

Elizabeth Lapp, better known as Beth, was raised in St. Vincent.  Her parents, Richard (Dick) and Lillian Lapp, met in 1926 when her mother came to town to teach at the school. Dick's parents were early settlers of St. Vincent, arriving in 1879 from Canada.

I share with you here the interview in its entirety, as it happened.  As you will read, there are a lot of clues for further stories, which I intend to explore in future posts...

1. Her earliest memory is of getting ill and vomiting on her workbook at school. In those days, you only got one workbook to use for your schoolwork, so she was mortified. She was sitting near chalkboard at the time. Her teacher was Miss Penovich.

2. Some of her other teachers were: Elaine Bergh, Gunda Hanson, Mrs. Isley, and Mrs. Monte(gue) Clinton.

3. The year she had Mrs. Clinton, “we didn’t learn anything”. Math and Science were "sacrificed for art". All she remembers is Mrs. Clinton having the class place chairs facing west and looking out towards Christ Church and drawing what they saw…

4. When it came time to go to high school, students during her time had three choices: Hallock, Pembina, or Crookston. Hallock and Pembina were public school (free) while Crookston was a boarding school and charged tuition. This was during the 1940’s and into the 1950’s.

Northwest School of Agriculture Crookston MN
[Photo Courtesy Digital Archive, UMC]

5. Crookston was called the ‘Ag School’. It's actual name was the Northwest School of Agriculture.  Several area natives attended it, including Beth and her siblings.

Ernie Comes to Town

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 his "Hoosier Vagabond" 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...

The Spot Revisited

Click to Enlarge

I came across these images on an eBay auction the other day, for an item of local ephemera.  I love the air of innocence yet double-entendre and innuendo of the back cover graphic, not to mention the bit of history giving the name of a past owner (Larry Lang, who was born in Kittson County) of one of Pembina's businesses!

According to a historical essay, Larry started his business in St. Vincent, but later moved it to Pembina - it was the genesis of the Spot¹ bar!

Lawrence worked on the farm for a while then decided to have his own business and opened up a beer parlour in St. Vincent which is now in Pembina - "The Spot".

¹ - Doc Harris built the building that we now know as part of the "Spot Bar" in 1905 (oral history from Chuck Walker...)

BORDERTOWNS: Chapter 9

Late in the afternoon Mary heard the kitchen door open, then close. Finally bustling noises came from the kitchen. Knowing her mother had returned home, she dipped a cloth into the pitcher of cold water on the washstand to wipe her face and eyes. Checking her face in the small mirror, she found she had removed all traces of her devastating experience at the hotel. She descended to the kitchen and began setting the table, pretending all the while not to notice her mother's silent appraisal.

Kirby arrived just as her father, Jerold and Mike returned home. Glancing out the rear window, she saw them accompany Kirby to the barn while he put up his horse.

She soon heard conversation, accompanied by laughter and the thumping of stomping boots as they opened the door. A cold blast of air rolled across the kitchen before Mike finally closed the door behind them.

"Pat, where have you and the boys been? You've been away for hours."

Her man looked sheepish and evasive. Jerold began to smile, waiting for his father's explanation.

"Well, we stopped at Cowan's, then at Charley Robinson's, and finally we ended at Jack McGlashans. Oh, he's a hard one to get away from!"

"It was well we left there, Mother," Mike asserted importantly, "Jack had a gallon of real Scottish whiskey. He wanted Pa to stay."

Pat's eyes crinkled, "Good stuff, too, love. I broke down and had a couple with him." He grinned foolishly and winked.

She knew it was more than a couple, but smiled good-naturedly at Kirby. "At least he had a good time this afternoon."

Mary forced herself into a semblance of humor. "Why Mother, you just got home yourself. Don't put upon Pa so."

"Ah, but I was helping Mrs. McKinnon with her sewing, not having a wee drop with the neighbors."

At that moment Mary saw Kirby glance at his Christmas gift; she had pinned it to her blouse. Approaching him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for the lovely present!" Her voice was low and throaty, causing inquisitive looks from the others. To explain matters, she turned toward her family, putting her hand to the watch. "It's a Christmas gift from Kirby. Isn't it gorgeous?"

Kirby reached out to encircle her waist, pulling her close. "Well, that peck was better than nothing, but it wasn't much of a Christmas kiss." Smiling, he bent to fully kiss her lips. He detected only a passive response and felt disappointed.

Laughter came; Jerold clapped his hands in approval.

Mary felt confused by the kiss, but she forced a smile to cover her feelings.

Sounds came from the outer door and Robert entered through the kitchen. His appearance was jovial enough, but Mary knew his nonchalant pose was an effort to appear as if nothing had happened between them. Her embarrassment at the hotel had fueled feelings of anger, compounded by his failure to escort her home. He had disappointed her, and, perversely, she wanted to punish him. She decided she would focus her attention upon Kirby.

Robert's gaiety and conviviality fell short of bolstering his pride. The frosty reception he was getting from Mary was disheartening. He realized his shortcomings at the hotel and knew Mary was justified in her anger. The sudden appearance of the intruder at the door, and Mary's reaction, had frozen him into immobility. He knew his mistake, and determined to make it up to her if she would allow it. The indifferent manner in which she was treating him and the occasional caustic glances she gave him spoke only too eloquently. He knew their love affair was on the brink of destruction and that the fault was entirely his.

Robert noted Maggy's searching glance, indication she suspected something wrong between them. He attempted to allay her fears by being over-solicitous.

Mary, on the other hand, pointedly ignored him. She inquired of Kirby's doings at the fort, and made much of his cold ride from there. She almost relented when Robert announced, "I'm returning to Winnipeg tomorrow morning on the stage. There won't be much to do on the Selkirk-Emerson line next summer after we complete the final surveys, except perhaps supervise the construction. The contractor isn't required to turn the line over to us until the summer of '79, but the road will probably be in operation by next December. We suspect the contractors will run it for an additional profit -- that is, if they can make a deal with Jim Hill of the Saint Paul & Pacific.

Kirby held off mentioning the Emerson New Year dance, planning to ask Mary after Robert left the house. He determined to outstay Robert, hopeful that Mary would accept his invitation.

It was 9 p.m. when Robert expressed his regret at leaving, and Mary escorted him to the door. He felt embarrassed and frustrated. Their final kiss was cool, with no passion. Both were tense until Robert said softly, "I'll be back in April, but I'll write often." It was an uneasy truce, and Mary suddenly realized how quickly a wide gulf could present itself.

Robert felt an odd hollowness. He knew he was leaving a bad situation and had hoped for charity and consideration. He had received none.

Closing the door behind him, Mary stood pensively gazing at the panels. She wanted more from him, but hadn't asked, for fear of being refused. When she had mentioned marriage at the hotel room, he had not responded.

Finally Kirby drew her attention. He approached from behind as he drew on his buffalo coat. "Mary, will you honor me by going to the party at the Emerson Ball next Friday?"

She turned slowly to face him, her reverie broken. Her face gradually turned to a warm smile. "Oh, Yes!"

For seconds they stood face to face until he leaned to kiss her gently on the lips. Curiously, she felt herself returning the kiss, although it was not a kiss of passion; it was more a kiss of obligation. She puzzled over it later.

While walking back to the hotel, Robert found himself brooding about his reception at the McLaren home. Conflicting thoughts antagonized him to the point of hostility. Just who was Mary to treat him so shabbily? After all, he was an engineer and had proven himself this past summer. Even if they did marry, where would they live? Perhaps Winnipeg, for he would be working in the camps east of the Canadian Shield. He already knew his future work on the Emerson-Selkirk line would last only a couple of months or more, and then it would be back to the Rat Portage area, or possibly to the Western division. Word of mouth had indicated they were surveying several passes in the Rocky Mountains, seeking the most favorable rail route to the west coast.

Approaching the hotel, he noted that the small restaurant was still open, the windows so heavily frosted that it was impossible to see inside. Chilled to the core, he felt he would try for a cup of coffee. Finding the exterior door locked, he entered the lobby of the hotel to try the inner door. The wave of heat that greeted him as he entered the cafe seemed like a pleasant greeting.

Unbuttoning his coat, he tossed it across a chair and took the only cleared table. It was still damp, indicating it had just been wiped. The fragrant odor of fresh baking overpowered the usual greasy smell. He wondered who would be cooking this late on Christmas day.

Annie's face suddenly popped up in the kitchen-serving window. She seemed surprised to see him. "Thought I heard the door. Coffee, Robert?"

"Guess so, please."

He seemed so vague and subdued that she sensed something wrong. "Want sugar or cream?"

"No. Just black and hot will be fine."

Moments later she placed the cup and saucer before him, and then proceeded to sit on the opposite side of the table. She watched him intently as he lifted the cup to his lips and detected the biting-sweet odor of rum mixed in the coffee. He eyed here questioningly as he tasted the mixture.

"It's rum toddy. You looked so cold." She fluffed her hair nervously as she smiled. "After all, it is Christmas evening and still early. What's the matter? Have you and Mary had a fight?"

He studied the cup before answering, "Just a misunderstanding."

Annie looked at him accusingly, "Did she come to your room at the hotel this afternoon?"

He looked up in surprise. "How did you know?"

A grim look appeared on her face. "'Cause I was accused of it. Someone told Ma I visited your room. Mary and I look a lot alike and we're the same height. I figure it had to be her. I told Ma it wasn't me, but she doesn't believe me." She looked at him archly, "I've been accused before. I'm a grown woman now and can do as I please."

He interpreted her remark to mean that she had been with men before and that she was experienced. Yet he felt no desire to become involved with her. Seeking to defuse the trend of talk, he suggested, "It's a mighty small town. Everyone must know everything that goes on."

She arose to her feet and smiled roguishly at him, "Not everything. Heck, I feel like a toddy myself." She turned to the kitchen door, returning moments later with an enameled coffee pot, a cup, and a nearly full bottle of rum. Placing them in the center of the table, she turned to lock the door, and then pulled the inner curtain over the glass. Returning to the table, she poured a generous portion of rum into her cup, then reached over to pour an additional dollop into his. After adding coffee to her cup, she picked it up for a toast. "Merry Christmas Robert!"

Lazily, he raised his cup to touch hers. "Merry Christmas to you too, Annie!"

They sipped their drinks for long moments. Finally Annie casually arose to extinguish the hanging lamps, leaving one to barely light the room. After she returned to the table there was a total silence between them as they sipped their drinks. Now and then she surreptitiously studied his face, casually refilling their cups as they became low. He seemed unaware of her close scrutiny.

Since the very second Annie had seen him, she had dreamt of nothing else. She had memorized every line of his face that day. Then, when Mary brought him back to the restaurant that same afternoon, her thoughts were shameful. She didn't care. All's fair in love and war. She knew she would do anything to have this man for her own. All thoughts of friendship with Mary ceased to exist. This man was for her!

Each time she added rum and coffee to his cup, he knew he should refuse. Still, the silence and warm lethargy creeping over him left a sense of release and total relaxation.

"I suppose your misunderstanding was about something that happened this afternoon." Annie probed.

"She's mad at me." Robert answered disgustedly. "She pushed Ralston in my face tonight."

"What happened this afternoon?"

“Nothing! That's the trouble. Not a damned thing!"

Annie moved her chair beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Too bad. Perhaps she's too young for you."

He wished she would say no more. He wanted an inner quietness, neutrality that would negate his depression. Her hand brushed his cheek gently and she asked, "Is there anything I can do to smooth your troubles?"

He looked into her eyes and saw another Mary. Until now, he never realized how much Annie resembled his love. Why, the only real difference between them was that Mary had dark hair, while Annie's was a fiery red.

Emboldened by the drink and her closeness, he put his arm around her waist. His voice was becoming slurred. "You're a beautiful girl. How come you're not married?"

She cupped his face with both hands. "'Cause I've been waiting for the right man." Her voice had taken on a maudlin quality as she caressed his lips with her finger.

Finally he grasped her, pulling her onto his lap. She was surprised at her own boldness and slipped one hand into his shirt as she continued caressing his face. He responded by roughly kissing her neck and cheek, finally seeking her lips. She found herself responding as he insinuated his tongue between her lips.

A sudden sense of caution came to her; they must not be caught here; they must get out of the cafe.

"You're getting drunk. We have to get you to your room and into bed."

"Thassa good idea." He tried to stand, but she was still sitting on his lap. Giggling, she stood and helped him to his feet. Picking up the bottle of rum, she guided him to the door. Unlocking it, she removed the key, steering him into the hotel lobby -- then she relocked the door. Both lobby and hallway were vacant as they moved toward his room.

"Which room?" she asked.

"Room 10." He staggered and nearly fell, saved only by the proximity of the wall.

"Gotta light a lamp." Robert was fumbling at the dresser.

She grasped at his arm. "Don't need a light to sleep." She steered him to the bed, where he sat down heavily. Sitting beside him, she swayed against him. "Whassa matter, Robert? Don't like me?"

He put his arm around her. "Sure do." Then he puzzled, him mind wandering. "She's not too young, too afraid."

"Remember me? I'm Annie. Want me to leave?"

He wasn't sure. He had been celibate these past months in the bush. Perplexed, he hesitated, and then her hand slid to his inner thigh.

"Maybe I should leave you."

He reacted by grasping her shoulders, forcing her back on the bed.

"Wait, Robert! You're making me spill the bottle." She was attempting to keep the rum bottle upright. Roughly he felt for and took the bottle from her hand. Raising it to his lips, he drank the remainder. The bottle thumped on the floor as he clasped the warm hand that was insidiously exciting him. Was he afraid of what might happen? Swaying unsteadily, he realized, no, no, I don't want her to leave. He felt himself harden at the thought.

She coyly rolled from under his arm and slipped her dress over her head. Leaning forward, she began to unbutton his shirt. "We've got to get you to bed." Her full, rounded breasts touched his hands and Robert could stand no more. Tearing at the remaining buttons of his shirt, he cast it to the floor. Grasping her, he twisted, lowering her under him. Any sense of conscience or guilt he might have had disappeared magically in the next moments. Annie's abandonment was complete, almost wild. Barely raising herself, she lifted her chemise, and then tugged at his belt. His lips were seeking her breasts even as she thrust them to his face. Rising over her, he entered with a quick thrust. For moments he remained imbedded within her, and then his body began insistent movements that gained in vigor.

Her response was instant, gaining in intensity as her legs spread to engulf him fully. Her rhythm matched his perfectly as she clung to him, head thrust back, seeking more. Gasping with delight, she demanded more and more of him. She strained as the magnitude of their climax approached. Then came the tightness and the explosion.

Gently he held within her in their last diminishing movements that brought them to rest. Then her face relaxed and she opened her eyes to the dark room. "Robert! Oh, God! That was wonderful, almost like heaven! What a heavenly gift! Now we can get married and enjoy this forever."

Slowly he recoiled from her, his mind hazy. Marriage? Marriage? What in hell is she talking about? "Mary!"

"Don't talk now Robert. I've waited for a man like you for years. Aggressively rolling over him, she covered his body with hers. Her warmth began another surge of excitement and she accepted him into her, locking her legs under his.

Robert awoke in the morning to find he was alone. Slowly he pieced together the past night. Rising from the bed, he saw the empty bottle on the floor. His head throbbed and he was sick at heart. Had she been drunk, too? He couldn't remember who had finished the rum. How could he ever have been so stupid as to do such a thing, to even think Annie could replace Mary? Yet, enough of the encounter remained in his mind that he knew it would haunt him forever. The rumpled bed attested to the fact that he had been soddenly drunk, something he had never done before. My God! There was something about marriage, too!

Then he saw the blood stains on the sheets. Holy Hell! She must have been a virgin! And I thought she was experienced.

He picked up his scattered clothes, disgusted with himself. The thought ran through his mind -- she had been willing.

His musing turned to Mary, and he shook his head in disgust. Why am I thinking of Mary?” The stage leaves at nine this morning. Crimminy! How can I face Annie in the restaurant at breakfast?

He was saved that embarrassment when he found a strange girl waiting tables. When the cutter appeared to take the passengers to the stage at West Lynne, he found himself a nervous wreck.

Three days after Christmas Ian brought Susan home to meet his family. At first she seemed shy, but she soon warmed up to Mike, Jerold and Mary. They chatted together excitedly. Mary found an instant rapport with Susan. In their conversation she found they were nearly the same age and had similar interests.

Against her wishes, Maggy was taken with the girl. She could immediately see why Ian had fallen in love. The girl's high cheekbones were part of her Indian heritage, but her nose was straight and delicate, with none of the swollen, pudgy looks with which Maggy was familiar. Her racial features were exceptional, her manner calm; it was obvious she had pride. Maggy could see the girl would retain that youthful beauty even into her late years. The similarity between the girls as they sat side by side was almost unbelievable. Why, they could pass for sisters. Both were of the same height and coloring; both had long, shiny, coal black hair and high cheekbones. The striking difference was that while Mary's eyes were a deep blue, Susan's were a striking deep jet. The girl's manners and polished usage of the English language put Maggy to shame, since she knew that she herself had a strong brogue. She was relieved when Susan spoke freely of her father and mother. Golly, Maggy thought, this youngster is not a bit ashamed of her heritage – and why should she be?

Maggy felt a sudden indignation with herself. What did I expect? This is a lovely, sensible girl! Dispelling her prejudices, she took Susan into her confidence, mentioning that her birthing was due in January.

Susan's next words came as a surprise. "There are no doctors in Emerson or Pembina -- only occasional ones who come infrequently. But if you need someone experienced in accouchements, my Mother will help."

Maggy looked to Pat for help. The word accouchement was beyond her vocabulary.

Susan sensed her confusion and smiled. "I mean my mother often serves as a midwife."

Patrick began to laugh aloud, for he could see Maggy was suddenly self-conscious. "By gee, we'll just keep that in mind." Then he had second thoughts. "Is she experienced?"

"Oh, yes, she has delivered many children. Just ask anyone in Saint Vincent."

Ian brought up the subject of the Emerson dance. "How about the two of us going? We can double with Kirby and Mary."

Susan frowned. "Ian, I can't go! First of all I haven't a suitable dress; secondly, there will be folks there who look upon we part-bloods as trash. I won't put up with their stares and snobbery. It isn't fair." She turned to Mary. "So you're going to the ball with Lieutenant Ralston. I've never met him, but mother says he is a real gentleman; he's well liked at the fort." By way of explanation, she added, "Mother works at the laundry out there." She hesitated momentarily, "I haven't asked Ian as yet, but we've been invited to a house party in Pembina. It will give him an opportunity to meet some of my friends. It's to be held at the LaMoore home and several important people have been invited. Marguerite and I are to present a skit. We are dressing as the New Year and the Old Year."

"Which one are you to represent?" Patrick asked.

"Oh, I'm to be the New Year. Marguerite is three years my senior; she's already nineteen." She tossed her head back and smiled. "We settled that argument weeks ago." She turned to Ian and teased, "How about it? Will you accompany me, or must I find another escort?"

"I'm easily convinced. I wonder if Charley Brown will be there?"

"I doubt he will come, although I know he's been invited. He never takes Marguerite out publicly." A rueful expression appeared on her face.

The fact that Mary had attended the fort dance wrapped in her sheepskin coat bothered Maggy. She brought it to Patrick's attention at bedtime. "We can't have Mary going to the Emerson Ball dressed like a frump. She needs a wool overcoat, something dressy, and one that she can wear in town and to school. Patrick reached from the bed to turn out the lamp.

"Well, tell her to get one. She should be able to find one at Jasper's or Mrs. Trayner's. How much do you 'spose it will cost?"

"I'll pay for it from the egg and butter money -- shouldn't be more than five dollars or so."

When the matter was mentioned at the breakfast table, Mary seemed delighted. "I've been thinking of a new coat too, but I've enough money saved to buy one. Mrs. Trayner has some full-length kersey coats that are lovely. I really should buy from her, for she gave me that gorgeous dress."

"That's best, but Pat and I will pay for the coat. We've talked it over and you deserve it.” Maggy was emphatic.

When Kirby arrived to escort Mary to the New Year's Eve ball, she had never looked more exquisite. When she came down the stairs to the living room, Maggy noted Kirby's smile, his love for her daughter so obvious. She could almost see the bittersweet ache within him. Mary wore the same yellow silk gown that Mrs. Trayner had given her for the fort ball. With its slim, fluid lines, Kirby realized she would be a striking contrast to any other woman at the soiree. Her long black hair was braided and set in circular coils atop her head, almost like a crown. Small, shiny, glistening specks set it off. He was puzzled.

"What's that in your hair, Mary? It certainly adds a mysterious touch."

Mary and Maggy exchanged smiles, and then Mary explained. "It's bits of mica, Kirby. It's an old Irish secret – not so secret any more. The only trouble is, that it itches when it trickles down your neck."

"It looks like snowflakes. I like it!"

Getting her coat from the hallway, Mary handed it to Kirby, who spread it for her arms. Tucking her scarf around her neck, she turned to smile at him. "I'm ready, are you?"

"Now that they're gone, what are we doing tonight?" Patrick looked at Maggy fondly. "I'll bet Pa and Ma are celebrating in Orillia, for New Years and Twelfth Night are the feasting days of the Scots."

Maggy nodded, "I imagine your Father is playing his violin in one of the pubs and your Mother is watching. Personally, I'm nearly ready for bed. The babe is wearing me down." She smiled weakly, "It won't be many more days." She was glad for the dim lamplight and finally being alone with Patrick. It gave her a safe, warm feeling as she bent forward to kiss him. "I'll make us a cup of coffee, or would you rather have a hot toddy?"

He looked at her lovingly. "Coffee will be just fine."

The holiday season brought a plenitude of excitement.

After going to bed that evening, Maggy ran her hands over her distended belly, touching it lightly, fondling the thrusting occupant with loving hands. She had grown immense, and now the baby hung low, forcing her knees and toes outward. Maggy was almost positive she was carrying a girl, for the violent movements of elbows and feet of the three sons she had carried were absent. Instead, the rollings and movements in her womb were of a gentle nature. It was when she was lying in bed that her baby rolled in the liquid world, awakening Maggy, forcing her to seek a new position. She would gently support the subtly shifting form with both hands as she turned from one side to the other. Her most comforting thought was that it would be only another three weeks until the delivery. She had no fear of the birthing, having already carried four children to term. Her only apprehension was that it might be another boy. Can’t be she thought! She'll be a girl, and I'll call her Kate, or Kathleen, after Pat's Mother.

Upon their arrival at the dance, Kirby found that word of mouth had traveled to Emerson how this girl had captivated everyone at the Fort Pembina ball. He had difficulty booking four dances on her card for she was inundated with admirers, so many that she was embarrassed to the point of wanting to escape to the women's room. It was Kirby's resourcefulness at fending off the young men that gave her a sense of confidence and security. Even so, she wished her father and mother had come along for moral support.

Her sleek dress, lacking a bustle, evoked expressions of envy from many of the younger participants. Even Mrs. Fairbanks, the wife of one of the founders of the town, made a point of complimenting her.

"You are exquisite, Mary!" Taking Mary's hand, she turned toward her husband. "Isn't she, William?"

"A bonny lass indeed!" He exclaimed. "Enough so to set the lads a-fighting!" He smiled at Mary, as he turned to Kirby. "Watch her, lad. The competition is mighty fierce."

Mrs. Fairbanks added, "We must not monopolize you any longer. I can see the Lieutenant is anxious to get you into line for the grand march. We'll miss you when your family moves over to Minnesota, but we'll see you often; it's only a short way off."

From time to time during the schottisches, polkas, quadrilles, waltzes and square dances, Mary noticed Annie Gillis in the crowd and attempted to gain her attention. Annie turned away each time they made eye contact, seemingly occupied. At the time Mary didn't think it strange, for everyone was charged with excitement.

She sensed what was in Kirby's mind, but gave him no chance to bring it up. While in the sleigh on their way to the party, he attempted a serious conversation, but she deftly fended off his approach with light chitchat. She felt guilty for not loving him; he was a girl's ideal dream. He was solid and dependable, good-looking, extremely so. His features and actions made her wonder if she wasn't out of her mind for not marrying this man who wanted her so. He had a magnetism that attracted her, yet, she puzzled why she was still thinking of Robert, even while Kirby held her in his arms. Now that Robert was gone, perhaps for months, she wanted nothing to happen that would change their relationship.

Mary felt relieved to be so much sought after that Kirby was unable to monopolize her time, even between dances. When he did manage dances with her, Kirby knew he held the most beautiful girl at the ball in his arms. His pride was discernible to all.

When midnight came, the orchestra broke into 'Auld Lang Syne.' At the first sounds of it, Kirby whirled her to the center of the dance floor and stopped suddenly. He pointed upward. Lifting her eyes, she saw the hanging sprig of mistletoe. Kirby's strong hands grasped her waist, drawing her tightly to him. Before she could lower her head, his lips quickly closed on hers, not lightly as she expected, but firmly, with passion. At the touch of his lips and the pressure of his hands, all brotherly thoughts she had of him faded into obscurity. She suddenly felt lonely and insecure. Every pore of her body came alive and she found herself answering his lips with an unbidden passion. Her arms tightened around his neck and her fingers entwined in his hair, forcing his lips closer and tighter. She lost track of time until she felt him release her.

He seemed astounded. "My God, Mary! Did you really mean it?"

Still aroused by his kiss, but mortified by her reaction, she shrank back. Glancing around, she could see no one who realized that their long kiss was anything but perfunctory; everyone around them was singing. A slow smile came. "Oh, Kirby, it was the mistletoe and the strong punch."

On the ride home Mary's mind seemed in a blur; she was dimly aware of anything but her fervent response to Kirby's kiss. Am I just lonesome for Robert, or is it my body responding to Kirby? After all, he has kissed me before and I never felt such sudden fire. Is this how it feels to be a woman? What brought about that tremulous, turbulent force?

Lying in bed, she found herself unable to sleep. Kirby was on her mind. Other then having a slight Eastern accent, he had adapted to being a mid-westerner to perfection. Perhaps she had missed something in her first assessment of him. There was a mystery about him that was beginning to intrigue her. He had never once mentioned his family or past. But then, she had never had the opportunity to share confidences with him. A new feeling swept over her and she realized that perhaps Robert wasn't the only man in the world for her. She hugged her pillow when she remembered the feeling of Kirby's kiss under the mistletoe.

During the following days she found little time to dwell upon her disturbing encounter with Kirby. Now that the hustle and bustle of Christmas and the New Year was over, she was to teach school again. She must plan her days, making schedules based on each student's grade, and judging how much each child could absorb. She knew she had given Kirby an indication that he meant more to her than just a friend, yet she also knew he would never force attentions upon her. She felt guilty in giving him false hope. Even now she was looking forward to a letter from Robert. Yet, strangely, she found herself anticipating Kirby's visits. She knew her father and mother considered him favorably.

Maggy was not blind to the change in Mary. When Kirby's name came up, as it often did, her daughter raised her eyes in interest. She made sure that Kirby had complete freedom to visit Mary, and never interfered when they were together. She would have had to be blind not to see that Kirby was head over heels in love with Mary, and she admired his tact when dealing with her reticent daughter.