Noyes Customs Building Up for Auction

While nothing was really mentioned of the history of the depot, it was difficult, yet good to read this article about Noyes today.  A very sad article about Noyes generally, and the old Customs building specifically. There was a beginning, and this is the beginning of the end.

It will be interesting to see who buys it and what they do with it. I could see turning it either into a very interesting residence (granted, it would take a lot of internal remodeling with all that ugly government modernization they did over top of the original early 1930s classic look, i.e., the paneling and indoor/outdoor carpet...), or a Bed and Breakfast with a border theme.  Who knows - it could just end up being a storage shed. Obviously someone wants it for something. Bidding started in May at $5,000 and it's already up to $30,000 with 4 bidders so far, and three weeks to go despite what the article says; there is a notation on the listing that the time period for bids may be extended, which is evidently has been...

Chris Misson, chief Customs and Border Patrol officer, stands in front of
the former Customs and Immigration Station at Noyes, Minn. Wednesday.
The station, closed several years ago, is being sold on an online auction.
[Photo by Eric Hylden/Grand Forks Herald]

Old Noyes, Minn., border station for sale, reminder of closed crossing

By Kevin Bonham (Grand Forks Herald, July 10, 2014)

NOYES, Minn. — When Mary Delaquis first arrived at what then was the U.S. Customs and Immigration Station in Noyes as a customs inspector, her daily commute took her just across the international border to a motel in Emerson, Man., where she lived that first summer in 1984.

Customs and Immigration Station in Noyes as a customs inspector, her daily commute took her just across the international border to a motel in Emerson, Man., where she lived that first summer in 1984.

That wasn’t unusual.

The Noyes border station — located along U.S. Highway 75 but just a 15-minute drive from the Interstate 29 port of entry north of Pembina, N.D. — was more of a neighborhood crossroads than an international port of entry.

“We didn’t see a lot of commercial traffic at the port,” said Delaquis, now Pembina Area Port director for U.S. Customs and Border Protection’s Office of Field Operations.

“It was an opportunity for locals to use the facility, she said. “They could move more quickly through the border.”

Canadians living in Emerson, Letellier and other nearby Manitoba communities would cross the border to get their mail, buy gas or to buy groceries.

Noyes-area residents, in turn, would drive across cross to eat, have a couple of beers, or to take their families swimming at the pool in Emerson.

“We saw a real local flavor at the border crossing,” said Delaquis.

The Border Patrol building, now closed and up for online auction, is an empty reminder of the past activity.

From the SCRIBE TRIBE archives...

Dick Lapp's Reminiscences
of the U.S. Customs Service
by Don Keller

Prohibition was the name of the game when Dick Lapp entered the Customs Service in 1928. It was the era of John Dillinger, flappers, booze, speakeasies and Silent Cal. It was probably one of the most exciting times to be in the Customs Service. The Immigration Service, plus the Border Patrol and the Customs Service with the Customs Patrol, formed a very thin screen between Canada, with an unending supply of liquor, and a thirsty American public.

A smuggler awaiting arraignment told Dick that he was crazy to work for the Customs. He told him that he could make $2000 to $3000 a week running booze from Winnipeg to Minneapolis. He said that a single load of thirty cases meant a thousand dollars profit.

One winter evening a Border Patrolman became curious about the driver of a Ford coupe in Pembina. The patrolman had been on his way to pick up his partner at the bank corner and together they were scheduled to check the northbound NP passenger train. The driver of the Ford coupe cooperated beautifully as he drove past the bank. He evidently realized that he was being followed as he accelerated considerably going across the bridge. The Border Patrolman stopped to pick up his partner and they took up pursuit. As they cleared the Red River bridge [NOTE: By now, they must be in St. Vincent as I read it ] they saw taillights turn off the highway on the road leading to the school. About a block north of the highway they came upon the abandoned car. A quick search of the neighborhood failed to turn up the driver. They called for reinforcements and the area to the north was thoroughly searched, as they felt he would make an attempt to get across the border. The search was in vain, but when they got the car back to the barracks they emptied it of 711 bottles of whiskey. The next morning they returned to the scene of the abandonment and discovered the driver's tracks leading to an overturned water storage tank. Lifting up the tank they estimated from the amount of cigarette butts, that the driver had spent most of the night inside.

In 1928, the customs office at Noyes did not open for car traffic until 9:00am. By that time during the summer, cars were lined up back to where the Canadian office is now located. The Canadian office was in the post office building in Emerson. The Noyes office was located in the present Great Northern and Soo Line Depot and the highway ran alongside the Great Northern tracks.

During Mr. Lapp's first summer of work as an inspector at Noyes, they had orders to go through every car thoroughly for undeclared and prohibited items, particularly liquor. The Great Northern kept one steam engine stationed at Noyes. Mr. Lapp remembers how on hot afternoons the crew enjoyed backing their engine to the section of track nearest the inspection area. Between the hot afternoon sun and the panting steam engine both trying to outdo each other in the release of heat, and the mounting irritation of the auto's occupants, it was a very warm occupation.

One day they received a call at Noyes that a young man, his wife and baby had just checked out of a hotel in St. Norbert. They were U.S. residents and the hotel keeper suspected they would be heading to the United States. When the man had paid his bill, she placed the money in the safe but before she locked it she was called to another room. When she returned, the man, fifty-four dollars in currency, and a lady's #75.00 wristwatch had departed. She gave a good description of the car and its occupants and in due time they arrived.

Mr. Lapp had been called from Pembina to assist in the search as nothing had been discovered the first time through. When Dick arrived he noticed that the young man exhibited extreme nervousness. After searching the upholstery for a small tear where the money and watch could be secreted, Dick asked the other inspector if he had looked under the floor mat. Before the inspector could reply, the young man jerked out a pack of cigarettes. In his haste to take out one, the watch came flying out. Then lifting the floor mat the fifty-four dollars was discovered.

On day a letter came to Noyes from a disgruntled gentleman in Winnipeg. He said that he was sick and tired of listening to four young men, with whom he worked, brag about smuggling four, forty-ounce bottles of whiskey into the United States each weekend, which they would sell for twenty dollars apiece on their arrival at Detroit Lakes, Minnesota. Their profit covered all of their expenses for the entire weekend. The gentleman did not know where they secreted the whiskey but he gave a good description of the car.

The next Saturday morning the four young men, all well dressed and nicely groomed, arrived in the described car. A reasonably thorough search disclosed no liquor. One of the older inspectors suggested they take the car over to the gas station and put it over the grease pit. (For you younger readers, gas stations were not equipped with hydraulic hoists in those days.) The older inspector, having several years of seniority and being rather rastidious, suggested that Dick get down in the pit. Dick looked it over from stem to stern but noticed nothing amiss. He did happen to remark, however, that he did not know that Fords had two mufflers. The other inspector said they didn't and brought a hammer to Dick and told him to tap them. The first "muffler" he tapped gave off not metallic clang whatsoever. It turned out to be an innertube and with the four forty-ounce bottles inside, it closely resembled the other muffler. After paying the five dollar penalty for each bottle, the young men declined the opportunity to continue their trip to Detroit Lakes and returned to Winnipeg.

Most of the information received by customs was good, but sometimes it went awry. One day they received a tip that a quantity of liquor would be coming through the border in a blue Cadillac. The car was described in detail. The inspectors were given specific instructions that if the Cadillac showed they were not to let it go until they had located the whiskey.

In short times a blue Cadillac appeared, driven by a dapper man in his late forties. A thorough search of the car revealed no liquor. One of the inspectors went into the customs office and secured two long hatpins. With these in hand, they began probing the backs of the fronts and rear seats. The driver who had told them repeatedly that he had no liquor, now became irate. Undaunted, the two inspectors continued their probing to no avail. One finally remarked to the other, "We've looked everywhere. It's gotta be in the tires." Beginning with the spare they let the air out of all the tires. Still no whiskey. They had neglected to move the tar over to the gas station near the air hose and the driver lost his composure completely. He told them they "bloody well better" blow up his tires and that he would see someone about getting them fired. About fifteen minutes after the two perspiring inspectors succeeded in blowing up the tires with hand pumps and had given the gentleman permission to proceed, an identical blue Cadillac showed up, complete with the whiskey.

Several years before Mr. Lapp joined the Customs he was employed by a customs broker. He happened to be at Noyes one evening when three special trains, two on the Soo Line and one on the Great northern, arrived. They continued members of an organization which shall remain nameless. They had been attending a convention in Winnipeg and evidently the huge majority sought to lay up an entire year's supply of liquor. Customs had barely started their inspection when it became apparent they would have difficulty carrying off all the whiskey. So they requisitioned a quantity of pillow slips from the sleeper cars and it was soon necessary to recruit members of the train crew and the section crew to help carrying it off.

One of Dick's co-workers at the brokerage house was watching the fun with him. Suddenly he remarked, "You know, Dick, all of that liquor is not going into the customs office." As they watched, they noted some of the rail crew helping to carrying it off, slipping into a passageway through the depot leading to the Soo Line tracks. Dick's co-worker disappeared for a short time and he came back with a self-satisfied smile. He had moved some of the liquor from the crew's hiding place to a hiding place of his own.

The penalty for attempting to smuggle a bottle of liquor into the United States was five dollars a bottle regardless of the size of the bottle. On smuggler learned this to his dismay. He had removed all the lining fabric from a Model "A" coupe. He then carefully packed three miniature (two ounce bottles) into the exposed space and then replaced the fabric. His fine amounted to fifteen hundred dollars. The gas station operator at Noyes cashed his check after Customs refused to accept it and the would be smuggler went on his way a sadder but a wise man.

Customs Stories IV: F.T. Bradley

One of the clearest copies of this photo that I've ever seen!

F.T. Bradley

In 1871, a customs house was opened on the west side of the Red River, and the first Collector of Customs, F. T. Bradley, (seen in above photo) 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

This burial site on a small piece of property owned by the Town of Emerson (now part of the Municipality of Emerson-Franklin) is a considerable distance from the road, in the middle of a farm field. It contains the 1885 grave of Emerson customs official F. T. Bradley along with the ones of his wife Caroline, who died in 1879, and four of their sons. The wife and children had originally been buried in the Old Anglican Cemetery but were moved here in 1900. A single white monument for Caroline Bradley and their four sons is located in the centre of a 16-foot by 22-foot rectangular area delimited by a low concrete wall. A small concrete marker with Bradley’s name and the Masonic symbol is also located inside the rectangle, as is a small white stone marker bearing the initials C B.

In February 1884, Bradley was arrested on a charge of fraud and embezzlement of over $4,000, relating to a shipment of coal by the Canadian Pacific Railway, and was transported to Winnipeg for trial. He soon became too ill to appear in court, and died on 27 February 1884 without regaining consciousness at the Winnipeg home of his brother-in-law and physician Alfred Codd. His body was returned to Emerson for burial, but not in the local cemetery, instead in a 20- by 20-foot plot northeast of town.

Customs Stories I

From Clarence Bingham comes this story of life as a Customs Officer back in 1950s Pembina (and surrounding area...)

I went to work for the U. S. Customs at Pembina in December 1949, so did not get over to the Noyes depot much after that.

All the old Customs Border Patrol officers had a story or two about inspection experiences while examining the special trains chartered to return members of "that fraternal organization" from the convention in Winnipeg during prohibition. One that Lester Eddington¹ told is that they started a rumor in the Winnipeg depot that you could successfully smuggle your liquor into the U.S. by hanging it out the coach windows on a string when the train got to Noyes, until the inspector went through the coach and checked your luggage. When the train got to Noyes the Customs officers walked down the outside of the train and cut the strings holding the bottles. Les said It was easier than looking for it in the luggage and saved the paper work of assessing a fine, because you did not know who it belonged to.





I spent a lot of nights and days in the car with Les during the Selkirk Wheat smuggling in 1952-53. I am sorry it was before the days of small tape recorders or I could have a wealth of border lore...

- From C.L. Bingham, aka Bing







¹ - Police cars, like police work, have changed considerably over the years. Few of the early-day police cars were given insignias identifying their purpose. An early-day North Dakota federal officer, Lester Eddington, wrote in his autobiography, "...we did not wear uniforms, just carried Customs caps to use while stopping cars." Because of this, stopping cars was not easy; many times the officer would pull alongside the offending vehicle and display his badge to tell the driver to pull over. Even more dangerous was the practice of stepping out into the lane of traffic to hold one's hand in the air, ordering the offender to stop. - From The History of Mopar Squads: Chrysler, Dodge, and Plymouth police cars

Les Eddington: An Autobiography

Here is a photo of William Henneberry (left) and Lester Eddington standing by Henneberry's bullet-riddled Paige after the encounter with the Winnipeg bank robbers (August, 1928) - Hey, Chicago wasn't the only place with some serious Action!

One thing leads to another...I'm getting contacted by more old-timer Customs Agents, and wow do they have stories to tell!

Customs Trivia: Did you know that for nearly 125 years, from the formation of our country - prior to personal income tax implementation - that Customs funded virtually the entire government, and paid for the nation's early growth and infrastructure?

Jim Benjaminson (see below) is trying to get permission from the family of one of those men, to allow us to share more of Les' story here. For now, below is what Jim can tell us, just to whet your appetite...

Lester Eddington had a welding shop in Neche and joined the Customs & Border Patrol in 1925, serving until 1956. There were several employment changes as various government agencies took control, so Les was in most of them. When he retired, one of his supervisors told him he should write a book about his adventures. Which he did...it was never published and I have one of the few copies not in the hands of the family. The original text was 116 pages of typewritten, legal-size paper, single spaced!

When I was a kid growing up, he'd always tell stories and then relate that the story was in his book. He would then proceed to pull out the manuscript, find the page the story was on and that would be the only part of the book he would allow me to read. In later years, Garnett (Les' son) spirited the manuscript to me so I could read all of it.

About 20 years ago or so, I asked Lester to allow me to reprint one of his stories for the North Dakota Peace Officer magazine. I took the manuscript and transcribed it onto computer disc (a VERY early Mac system). I also did research about the story to provide a prologue and epilogue to the story. When he saw the story in print he asked me to put it all on computer disc.

As I stated, it has never been published. Its working title is My Experiences While In The Government Service. The only hand-written part of the book was the last page - in which Lester dedicated it to three people - Judson LaMoure (his boss), to Dave Elves (who he worked with at Sarles) and "...last but not least, the late Art Gould, Winnipeg, Manitoba, the greatest liquor runner that ever crossed the International Boundary in this District."

The story I wrote about (using Les' main text as the body) for North Dakota Peace Officer related the story of a robbery that took place in Winnipeg in August of 1928. A bank messenger was held up on the street near one of the banks--the bandits made their escape back towards the USA. They crossed the border in the Mowbray/Maida area with Les and William Henneberry in hot pursuit. Somewhere between Langdon and Lakota the bad guys made a stand and shot up the pursuing car (an unmarked vehicle). Lester was driving...one slug came through the windshield, hit the steering wheel and struck Les in the stomach. It wasn't a serious injury. The only thing that saved their lives that day was the bad guys saw the badge on Lester's belt - saw he was a federal officer and backed off. Long story short - the bad guys were never found. And Lester had the slug mounted as a watch fob!

I have extra copies of the ND Peace Officer magazine with that story, if you'd like me to mail you a copy. I also have photos of the shot up car with Lester and Henneberry standing beside it.

As for the text of the book, I'll have to get permission from the family. Like I say, I think I have the only non-family member copy in existence. I can't release it without getting their o.k. The book also relates many adventures, many in the Sarles, Hannah, Maida, Mowbray¹ area as that was Lester's first post. He spent the last years of his career at Pembina.

PS - I glanced at your blog. And I know Chuck Walker.

Back in 1976 I did research for a booklet for the Pembina County Sheriffs Office, documenting all of the county sheriffs from 1867 to the present (Glenn Wells was sheriff then - he was later my boss when I worked for Pembina County SO 1977-1979). I took it upon myself to try and find photos of all the sheriffs at which I was mostly successful....I think I missed 5, Charley Brown being one of them. I also missed one sheriff for the list (William Truemner) that I discovered while doing other research many years later.

I do have a file called "Murder and Mayhem in Pembina County" and I probably have references to various incidents that occurred in the early Pembina/St. Vincent days. I have details on the Pembina post office shooting (that was also in ND Peace Officer)......Charlie and I have discussed this at times in the past, regarding the outlaw that was killed...

Just glancing at the blog I'm wondering how much of the story/dialog Charlie made up regarding Charley Brown???

Jim also wrote an article from which this is taken:

Police cars, like police work, have changed considerably over the years. Few of the early-day police cars were given insignias identifying their purpose. An early-day North Dakota federal officer, Lester Eddington, wrote in his autobiography, "...we did not wear uniforms, just carried Customs caps to use while stopping cars." Because of this, stopping cars was not easy; many times the officer would pull alongside the offending vehicle and display his badge to tell the driver to pull over. Even more dangerous was the practice of stepping out into the lane of traffic to hold one's hand in the air, ordering the offender to stop.

Clarence Bingham told me this about Les:

Yes, I knew and worked with Lester Eddington for a year or more during 1951 - 52. I did not know that Les wrote an autobiography, but it doesn't surprise me. His wife's name was Milicent. Their daughter (June) married Allen Henneman from Pembina.

Lester and his partner were in a chase and shoot out with a car load of bank robbers out in the Maida - Hannah area of the border during the early 1930s. Les had a bullet on his watch chain that he claimed came through the front of their patrol car and lodged between his long underwear and his stomach. He thought for sure he had been shot, because the slug was burning him...He lived and farmed near [Cavalier] after retiring from Customs.

¹ - I Remember When...the Birth and Death of a Prairie Town, By John J. Elias

There are several factors that caused towns to spring up, grow and thrive for a number of years, only to fall into decay and finally disappear completely. At times some group of interested people took the pains to erect some memorial to remind the passerby that a town once existed there. Why it came into existence in the first place depended on physical features but most prairie towns were planted because the railways deliberately placed them there by building a station on the location. The railways spaced them about eight miles apart since that was roughly the distance a settler would travel from home to town and back in a day with a load of grain or just to go shopping.

Nelsonville was the big town before the coming of the railway, situated about ten miles northwest of Morden. It had the land titles office, a NWMP detachment, gristmill, stores, church and community hall. It was certain the CPR would pass through it.

Mountain City, south of Morden, also was a thriving village. It too had high hopes that it would be selected by the railway. Nevertheless, the railway always kept secret where it would go and located towns where it suited and benefited the railway most. The track was laid between the two towns and Morden received a station. In two years, both Nelsonville and Mountain City disappeared. Only a stone now reminds us of the existence of a previous thriving community.

The histories of many prairie towns are very similar; only the names are different. For this reason I’ll take the town of Mowbray as an example since I became acquainted with it when it still was a healthy hamlet. Provincial Road 201 passes through it. Since it is the only east-west road between the Pembina River and the Canadian-U.S. border we traveled through there many times since 1941, the year I started farming together with my wife, Esther.

Since we became acquainted with Archie and Lily Scott, we learned much about the early history of the area and the town. They presented us with a small booklet that gives a short history of the first settlers. There is no point in giving a lot of names since they are all unknown to anyone but those who have long passed away. It is enough to record that the first settlers arrived in 1880.

The Andrew Johnstones settled where the Scotts now lived. A crude log cabin not far from the Scotts was their first home. Archie took us to the building one day. The west end of the house was the first post office and served as such for over 20 years. When Andrew died, Mrs. Johnstone continued the service till Mowbray was formed.

As more and more families settled in the district, the time came when a school was needed. The school was northeast of the present Scott home. This was the school that Archie and Lily attended. Most teachers taught for only one year. By the end of the year some promising young bachelor had won the heart of the young lady teacher and soon they added to the school population.

As the district filled up, the CPR extended the railway from Snowflake to Windygates. In 1904 they erected a station and Mowbray came into being. Elevators, a store, lumber yard, blacksmith shop and hotel soon followed. The two-story school was built, but only the first floor was used for classes. The upper story was used as a community hall and for church services. Some homes were built.

Just across the boundary the town of Mowbray, North Dakota sprang up and flourished. The two towns in actuality functioned as one town. The Americans sent their children to school in Canada. The biggest customers of the Canadian hotel bar were Americans. The Canadians shopped freely in both Mowbray, Manitoba and Mowbray, North Dakota. The Americans also made good use of the railway.

Some time in the late 1950s the town was almost gone; only the station was left. One day a car parked in front of the station. To satisfy our curiosity we stopped and visited the couple that was sitting outside on the platform. Some children were amusing themselves in the back. The couple was very hospitable and readily acquainted us with the history of the station.

The gentleman, Percy Williams, was the present owner of the station. His parents had arrived in Mowbray in 1927. His father passed away when Percy was a young lad and his mother carried on as the agent as long as the train service continued. In the beginning Mowbray had three passenger trains a day and this was cut down to one train a week. Service ended in 1954 and the mother and Percy left the district. Percy was able to buy the station from the CPR for a nominal price and he kept it in repair. He had already planted trees and shrubs around the property and the family spent the summer weekends there. They claimed they enjoyed driving to Maida for supper and visiting the farmers that were left.

The time came when we no longer found them there. Last summer (2008) a friend and I passed by and noticed a car parked in front of the station. I visited with the couple sitting outside and was told that Percy had died and had sold the station eight years ago. The trees and shrubs were now full grown and the lawns were freshly cut, but I noticed that half the platform had collapsed and the building too showed signs of considerable weathering. Still, it was good to see that the old station was still serving a purpose and had not been abandoned to slow decay.

What then was the main reason for the disappearance of so many prairie towns? The reason may be summed up in one word – transportation. It was the railway that built the towns. When there were no roads or few at best, the passenger trains with the mail car, flourished. When the automobile came along, roads were required. The first road to Winkler had no ditches and the roadbed was lower than the sides. As roads and cars improved, more and more people used the car to go to town, and the passenger trains were empty. Buses replaced the passenger trains and without passenger trains, the railroads were losing money. As a result they discontinued passenger service. In Mowbray the station was closed in 1954. The rails were salvaged and soon Mowbray disappeared.

As roads were improved and main highways paved, cars and trucks took over transportation. More and more branch lines were abandoned and now there is no elevator anymore between Winkler and Killarney. A large stretch has already been dismantled. The track serving Miami has been taken up. As time goes on more and more towns will disappear completely. -FROM Winkler Times article
I Remember When...The Birth and Death of a Prairie Town

Sociability Run: Jefferson Highway

[Note — General Manager McDougal of the Pershing Way [Association], who was for a short time Publicity Commissioner of the Jefferson Highway,  admits that he appropriated from the Jefferson many of the successful methods he is using on the Pershing. He also admits they are pretty good. 

We likewise are going to appropriate the story of his trip to Winnipeg, and in doing so likewise admit it is pretty good. That Manager [Herbert F.] McDougal has a microscopic eye, a retentive memory and a happy way of telling it is evidenced by what he saw and tells of his trip. 

Judging from his experience at the "Line", he should have borrowed the Jefferson's Rabbit Foot. 

Mr. McDougal's story will be read, with interest by the J. H. family, especially those who "made the trip" last July.  The following is an excerpt about the final leg of the run...]

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

The Jefferson Highway touring group paused their sociability run 
in Emerson for "short" speeches and this group photograph...

Pro-lemonaders made another hit when Bronson was reached, where "most excellent lemonade was served" by the ladies. Decorations were mainly American and Canadian flags. Mayors Hodgson and Behrman spoke. The hotel menu at Hallock, a noon control, was a novelty, and uniquely distinctive over any other during the entire trip. Part of it was in French, and embraced dishes served especially in New Orleans. Banners and flags formed the principal decorative feature. Luncheon was served at the hotel and restaurants in the city. The Custom Houses of Noyes and Emerson were soon passed, owing to arrangements having been made beforehand. Short speeches were made by Governor Pleasant and Mayor Hodgson at Emerson.¹

We had been sweeping along across the prairie, much of the time with no fences along the road, and came to a turn to the east along what, as memory recalls it, looked like the back side of a farm yard with perhaps an orchard bordered with forest trees in a sort of a scrubby growth. Straight ahead and eighty rods beyond was a dingy railroad station, and just before we reached it a turn to the right and north.

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

The original routing of the Jefferson Highway entered Canada directly from Noyes,
Minnesota into Emerson, Manitoba, Canada.   This is the approximate route the JH
followed. [Source:  Two Lane Traveler] NOTE:  The red line leading off 171 going
north was the 'Emerson Road' (dirt when I was growing up, now plowed under...)  

Over this seeming by-road was the remains of an arch¹, placed there last July to welcome the Jefferson Highway tourists on their great sociability run, and the presence of the arch gave rise to the theory that this must be the entrance to the Dominion. Pursuing the tracks a bit further we were convinced that we really were on the highway into the neighboring nation, for at the side of the road was a glorified Keep Off the Grass Sign, bearing a solemn warning against going across the line without proper formalities.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But let us move on.

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

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

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

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

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

Jefferson Highway Sociability Run, NOLA to Winnipeg
L'Observateur (Reserve, Louisiana) · 28 Jun 1919

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Noyes Roadside Parking Area

If only it was that simple, eh?!

Sadly, the days of driving through the border with only a wave and a smile are long gone.

The site is located on the international border within the small village of Noyes.

Noyes is surrounded by a largely agricultural area. In general, the site is surrounded by Canadian farmland to the north, U.S. farmland to the east, the U.S. Border Station to the west, and residences to the southwest and southeast.

HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

In circa 1929, prior to the construction of the Noyes Roadside Parking Area, a granite marker in the shape of an obelisk was apparently erected at the border. No further information on this marker is currently available.

The Noyes Roadside Parking Area was constructed in 1937 by the Roadside Development Division of the Minnesota Department of Highways. The 692'-long project was designed to create a small wayside rest directly across T.H. 75 from the U.S. border station. The wayside rest was undoubtedly designed to encourage and support early auto tourism, to welcome Canadian visitors, and to provide a resting point for motorists who were crossing the border. At the time the wayside rest was built, the border station building was only six years old, having been built in 1931. The same building exists today.

The roadside parking area was developed as part of a larger highway project in which about 19 miles of T.H. 75 were paved. T.H. 75 was a gravel road at the time. Within Noyes, the highway was widened to six lanes between the customs station and the proposed wayside rest. The three miles leading southward from the Canadian border were paved with concrete, while the next 16 miles (to a point one mile north of the town of Hallock) were paved with bituminous.

The T.H. 75 improvements were built during the 1937 and 1938 construction seasons. The wayside rest was apparently built in 1937.

The T.H. 75 project had been supported by several northern communities who lobbied for the improvements. For example, in May 1936 while planning was underway, representatives from northern Minnesota towns including Crookston, Hallock, and Warren, as well as nearby Canadian communities met to discuss signage and methods of "securing traffic" for T.H. 75. Proponents hoped to entice tourists to travel T.H. 75 and to encourage travelers to cross the Canadian border within Minnesota, rather than using a North Dakota highway located a few miles to the west. Highway improvements on the Minnesota side were met with improvements on the Canadian side including the paving of the highway from Winnipeg to the border.

In June of 1937, the proposed roadside park -- which would be Noyes' only park -- was described to the public by the Kittson County Enterprise:

Noyes to Have Beautiful Park

Efforts of beautification sponsored by the Minnesota State Highway Commission, will soon be appreciably recognized at Noyes, Minn., where work is steadily progressing on what will perhaps be the most attractive park in the northwest corner of the county. An asset to Highway 75 and its tourists will be this triangular formed garden of nature, now taking shape on the left side of the highway, upon entering Noyes from the north. A rare sight to greet tourist Canadians.

The land, a donation to a worthy cause by Mr. McKay of Noyes, is receiving the hands of experts in tree and shrubbery planting. Beautiful elms, spruce and many other lovely plantings numbering 2,000 individual sets, will make their home in the rich soil. Ideal walks and an inscripted monument will form a border for the numerous flowerbeds. We urge you to make a visit to this lovely park, that symbolizes America's welcome to Canadians ("Noyes To Have" 1937).

The park was designed by A. R. Nichols, the Roadside Development Division's Consulting Landscape Architect. As befitting the importance of a site on an international boundary, Noyes Roadside Parking Area Noyes site is among the most formal of his MHD wayside rests. The original plans even include a drawing of an elegantly dressed man and woman standing near the flagpole.

Plans for the roadside parking area were presumably drawn in 1935 or 1936. Among the signatories on the plan's cover sheet is Harold E. Olson, head of the MHD Roadside Development Division. The plans were approved May 4, 1936.

The T.H. 75 highway project was apparently built mostly by private contractors. Federal dollars probably helped fund the highway project, but there is no direct evidence of Depression-relief labor being used. If built in another part of the state, the accompanying wayside rest would probably have been built using unemployed workers under a New Deal federal relief program such as the WPA. There is no evidence, however, that federal relief workers were used for the Noyes Roadside Parking Area. It is possible that, because of low population in this remote rural area, there were too few unemployed workers available. (During the Depression the MHD Roadside Development Division encountered this situation in some rural areas where there were not enough unemployed workers to use federal relief labor on construction projects.)

Details of the proposed highway work were reported in the Kittson County Enterprise in September of 1937. The article stated in part, The paving will start at a point where the international boundary line intersects the highway, which is a few yards beyond the customs and immigration buildings. From this point east and south three miles of concrete will be laid and from the point of the beginning of the concrete for a distance of 400 feet the pavement will be six lanes wide with a parked boulevard dividing each three tier section, making in all a total width of 83 feet. Throughout the length of this 400 foot stretch of wide paving the intersection will be provided with trees and flowers, beautifully set off with concrete curbing ("Highway Dep't." 1937).

The Enterprise article concluded, "When the concrete is completed at Noyes, an excellent road bed will present itself to thousands of tourists who have for years been patronizing the Dakota highway on the other side of the Red River" ("Highway Dep't." 1937).

The highway project at Noyes was completed in July of 1938, with the Enterprise commenting: "The new highway is a beautiful auto road and a great improvement to Noyes. Canadians entering the U.S. at Noyes should get a good impression of neighboring country if a good road creates a good impression" (Kittson County Enterprise, July 13, 1938).

The Noyes work was completed about the same time that The WPA Guide to Minnesota was published in 1938. The Guide wrote about Noyes, Noyes is a small village and a United States port of entry, with an almost cosmopolitan air of bustle and excitement emanating from the U.S. Customs and Immigration Offices. The American and Canadian flags flying not far apart, the trim uniforms of the officials, and the constant commotion usual to international boundaries contrast with the quiet of this remote north-woods country. A large force of railroad officials is necessary to take care of incoming and outgoing passengers and freight on both the Soo Line and the Great Northern Railway passing through Noyes (WPA Guide 1938/1985:335).

Mn/DOT Site Development Unit files indicate that in 1961 the wayside rest had an entrance and approach marker, a parking area, a pump or well for drinking water, three tables, three picnic fireplaces, one refuse container, a flagpole, and an informational marker highway.

In the 1980s Mn/DOT apparently drew plans to rehabilitate the site that were not implemented (S.P. 3709-17).

The site was rehabilitated in 1997 by Mn/DOT (S.P. 8809-198). The project included cleaning and repairing the stonework, installing some new vegetation, and adding a metal interpretive marker.

Because of current U.S. security concerns at international border crossings, visitors are no longer allowed to stop at the wayside rest, to stop on the highway shoulders near the site, or to take photographs in the vicinity.

This property may require further evaluation for potential archaeological resources.

Noyes

The St. Paul and Pacific Railway (later called the Great Northern) built a line through this portion of Kittson County in 1878-1879. The line met the Canadian Pacific Railway near present-day Noyes and thus linked Minnesota railroads with lucrative markets in Winnipeg and other Canadian cities. The village of Noyes did not yet exist, and the U.S. customs office and the St. Paul and Pacific depot were located in the nearby town of St. Vincent.

A competing railroad company, the Minneapolis, St. Paul, and Sault Ste. Marie, constructed a line to the international border at present-day Noyes in 1904. The village of Noyes was then established in 1905. In 1905 the U.S. customs office was moved from St. Vincent to Noyes. (The village, in fact, was named for J. A. Noyes, a U.S. customs official.) The village of Noyes remained small. A post office was established in 1927. Noyes was platted Nov. 15, 1933, but has never been incorporated. Noyes has a current population of about 65 people.

St. Vincent: Port of Entry

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)

"The border crossing station at Noyes was established in 1905, after having been previously located in the nearby town of St. Vincent." - MN/DOT Historic Roadside Development

Noyes Depot

Hudson Leighton from the GN Goat shared with me these great photos of the Noyes Depot* and border crossing area, from the early days until 1970; I found a newer image online myself to finish it all off, not sure how new, but it looks fairly recent. Hudson also shared stats on the depot, which I found rather fascinating since my Dad worked there for many years. It's also interesting to me because it was one of many such towns across the country lining the US/Canadian border that ensured trade between our countries over generations, and still do.

This is an extract from the stats file...

GN RPC records:

Noyes is in Valuation Section # 224 - which starts just north of Barnesville went to Crookston and ended at Noyes. Anything I have ended with BN merger in 1970

A depot was built in 1922 - 30' x 138' frame, w/ customs & immigration quaters.
In 1924 is was extended - 10 x 20 to provide room for an immegration office
1944 building was insulated and additional lighting installed
1948 - building was rearranged to provide room for R.E.A.
1952 - toilets were installed
1953 - new lighting provided & fuel oil heater
1966 - remodeled removing 32' of same and place concrete foundation on remaining building
1967 - new depot built using wood from old depot

This is a joint use building w/ SOO Line.

I found this online - a summary of original proposal to close Noyes port and consolidate port entry for rail to be covered by Pembina port. The latest word about line abandonments does not list the line going up to Noyes into Canada as such, but other lines in the region are being abandoned for economic reasons due to decreasing traffic.
Emerson has its supporters also for their recent loss of the port just north of Noyes. I didn't realize until I read this article that "In Emerson, the history of protection is not restricted to the presence of Canada Customs. Known as Manitoba's First City, Emerson was home to the original headquarters of the Northwest Mounted Police. Like many border towns, Emerson has a proud heritage of standing on guard for thee...."

THE END:  In circa 2020, the old depot, on the original site throughout all its years, was demolished to make way for a new combined-agency building [U.S. Customs & Border Protection (CBP) , and U.S. Customs & Immigration Enforcement (ICE)/Soo-Line/BNSF/CP]

In 2005, in anticipation of the 2006 Noyes port-of-entry closing, a Federal ruling stated, "...CBP is extending the limits of the Port of Pembina to encompass the railroad yard located at Noyes, Minnesota, owned by the Canadian Pacific Railway and the Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railway. The Port of Pembina will assume responsibility for processing trains as they arrive at Noyes. However, other traffic must utilize the border crossing within the City of Pembina and will no longer be processed at Noyes. The office facility at Noyes will continue to be used to support the needs of several Border Patrol agents and ICE agents. Security gates and surveillance cameras have also been installed at the Port of Noyes to ensure continued remote monitoring of that location by the Port of Pembina." After 2006, CBP and ICE maintained staff on an as-needed basis in the old depot.  Drones have also been added to assist in border security.

* An interesting piece of railroad trivia about the Noyes Depot is, it's the only depot in Kittson County still on its original site...

The Border

The little border town of Emerson, Manitoba, was a surreal place to be in April 1997.  Behind the permanent dike that had been doubled in height with the addition of a temporary structure of plywood and sandbags, Emerson was a dry island in the vast sea of the Red River, which had burst its banks.  All the inhabitants, with the exception of a few who had been left behind to fight the flood, had been evacuated.  The electric power still worked, so that at night the island of Emerson was ablaze in a strange white light.  Deer and hares and other smaller animals had gravitated to the town to escape the ice cold waters of the raging river.  They stood, frightened sentinels, in the white light of the ghost town. 

A remarkable crew made up of town employees, a detachment of troops from the Canadian Forces and local Mounties kept the town of Emerson itself dry and secure.  As the river rose to a critical level in late April, with no firm prediction on how high it would get, the struggle to maintain the wall around the town was in deadly earnest.  Coordinated out of the Emerson Town Hall, the beleaguered warriors filled sandbags and directed them to potential weak points on the perimeter.  So close is Emerson to the U.S. border, that a portion of the dike actually crossed into the small neighboring community of Noyes, Minnesota, protecting a U.S. Customs office and several nearby homes on U.S. soil.  As residents noted at the time, what they were calling the "Red Sea" did not make distinctions between one side of the border and the other.

[The writer returns five years later, and talks to survivors in both Emerson and Pembina of their ordeal during the 1997 flood, then goes to the border to travel to Grand Forks to interview survivors there...]

In the large new Canada Customs post at the border- built since the flood of '97 - I meet two tall, muscular customs officers who have recollections of the mayhem...When asked about the purpose of my trip to North Dakota by a U.S. Customs official with grey hair, I tell him I am going to Grand Forks to talk to people on the fifth anniversary of the flood of '97.  Not bothering to ask me for ID, he comments sardonically, "Why not go to Pembina?  They know at least as much about the flood as anyone in Grand Forks." 

I follow his advice and drive into the little town of Pembina, two minutes south of the border.  The town had been British territory before it was handed over the U.S. with the adoption of the forty-ninth parallel as the border across the Prairies in 1818.  On the east side of Pembina, there is a high earthen dike to protect the town from the Red River.  It is the same on the other side of the river in the tiny hamlet of St. Vincent Minnesota.  This April the Red is tame, but the dike is there for protection against future floods. 

On the main street of Pembina, I find an old preacher and his young disciple out trying to win converts.  I ask them if they were in town for the great flood of '97.  In reply, the old man hands me a pocket-sized pamphlet titled, "A Preacher of the Old School."  In our conversation, Mr. W. Seed and I are at cross-purposes.  He is trying to save my soul from a flood of biblical proportions while I am in search of memories of a mere earthly flood.  I manager to get Mr. Seed onto my line of inquiry, and he tells me of the long series of floods that have afflicted this community - in 1897, 1950, 1966, and 1979.  In 1997, he says, the dike held and the town was saved.

From:  The Border: Canada, the US and Dispatches From the 49th Parallel

St. Vincent Boom Times, Part II

From what was popularly known as 'historical essays', written mostly by high school students throughout Kittson County over a period of many years, comes this piece about St. Vincent's better days...

St. Vincent
by Barbara Bostrom

Today, cities have taken the place of the many small towns across the country. In the cities a person may live for years in the same house and never know the names of his next door neighbors. There are very few small towns left. Even St. Vincent, Minnesota, the oldest town in Kittson County, is dying. There are approximately 170 people still left in St. Vincent, most of them old people. There are few evidences of the type of town St. Vincent once was.

The Great Northern Railroad brought most of the people here. The first people came as traders, because of the Red River. That was in the 1870's. They used to cart the furs up the river on barges. But since the fort was built at Pembina, North Dakota, most of the fur traders, and nearly all the other residents of this northern area, lived there. Part of the reason they would want to live in or near the fort was as protection against Indians. Especially after Fenian's Raid in the 1870's, people usually preferred to live by the fort. When the Sioux Indians were forced out of the state, the danger of Indian attack was reduced to nearly nothing. But they were not far away. Around l880, the talk of the town was Chief Sitting Bull's camp across the Canadian border in Emerson Manitoba.

Pembina was the "big town" when St. Vincent was born. Pembina, along with the rest of the valley, gained attention in both the United States and Canada, "owing to the so called rebellion in Manitoba under Louis Riel and O'Donhue, of Fenian fame, and many who were on their way to Fort Garry that year... were forced to make an unwilling sojourn at Pembina, waiting for the submission of the rebellion in order to go on to their destination. The quelling of the insurrection in June by British troops restored the tranquility and the noise attached to the whole affair seemed to have drawn the attention of the outside world and caused quite a stream of emigration into the valley."

Fort Pembina was built in 1870 and abandoned in 1897. At the time the fort was built Hills, Griggs & Company, of the Red River Steamboat Company, opened an extensive general store which usually carried $100,000 worth of merchandise. Henry MoKinney opened a saw mill in 1871 near the junction of the Red and Pembina Rivers, opposite St. Vincent. Nathan Myrick of St. Paul, opened a trading post near Ft. Pembina.

Saint Vincent is the oldest town in the county. The first meeting of the township board was held on May 15, 1880. R.W. Lowery, G.A. Hurd, F.M. McLaughlin, L.A. Nobels and F.M. Head were the township's first officers. Hardly a year later it was reorganized as a village, on April 16, 188l. The first president was James L. Fisk, possibly the son of the Hon. Charles J. Fisk, who was an associate justice )f the supreme court of North Dakota; recorder, J. W. Morrison; assessor, John A. Vanstrom, who afterward served as register of deeds, and later was elected sheriff.

In 1910 St. Vincent had a population of about four hundred. It is located in the northwestern part of the county, directly opposite Pembina, North Dakota. It was the terminal between the Great Northern and Canadian Pacific Railways, and also a port of entry for the purpose of collection of customs duties. Near Lake Stella, on the eastern side of town about a mile from the Red River, there had been a roundhouse, for trains, which burned down in 1905. There was the train depot in the middle of town. In the west end of the building was the customs office. From 1900 to 1905 J.A. Noyes was the head customs officer there. In 1905 he succeeded in having the customs office moved from St. Vincent to the Canadian border across from Emerson, Manitoba, where the town of Noyes is now.

There were three hotels in the St. Vincent of those days. the Thedore, the Ontario House, and the Northern Hotel. The Thedore was in the west end of town, on the main street. The Ontario House was owned and operated by the Ryan family. Mr. Ryan managed the hotel, but when he died, one of his daughters, Elly O'Connor, took over. The Northern Hotel was north of the railroad tracks that ran through town just south of what is now Highway 171, and it was owned by the Great Northern Railroad.

Until 1925 there was a black smith shop about a block east of the Northern Hotel, and earlier there was another in the west end of town.

There were four stores: Nelson Greene's Store, which sold nearly everything under the sun; a large store west of the Ontario House which sold mostly candy, and was owned and operated by a Mr. John Reynolds; and another store in the west end of town. This store contained the post office, which was run by Richard Lapp's father.

There were two beer distributing companies, one next to the tracks in the west end of town, and one a block from the other company, also next to the tracks. The first was Hyland's Low Start Lagger, the latter company was a Hamms Beer distributor.

Next to the Ontario. House was the Catholic church. It was purchased from John Reynolds and made into a church.

There was also an Episcopal church and a Presbyterian church in town. The Episcopal church was the first church built in the territory, and the lumber was all hauled in from eastern portions of the territory by oxen cart. It still stands today, on the "outskirts" of town, north of the railroad tracks. There was also a Methodist church in St. Vincent.

Between the train depot and the Hylan beer distributor, was the St. Vincent fire hall; which still stands today. It is a small, wooden frame structure with a bell tower in the southeast corner. St. Vincent had two fire engines, and a carriage that, I believe, carried fire hose.

The school was built in 1903. It is a two-story, square, white frame building which originally held grades 1-12, but now has classes for only kindergarten, and second through fourth grades.

It looked like St. Vincent was blessed with everything a good town needs: easy transportation, jobs, and good soil, and water. But somewhere they lost whatever it was they had had. For St. Vincent is no longer a little town with a lot of growing to do-- but now St. Vincent has little to look forward to except a slow death. In 1909 these words were written:

"Today we have abundant evidence that we are standing at the threshold of a new dominion that is to arise on this plateau of North America...

With unshackled hands, free thought and liberty of conscience, the people of the valley of the Upper Mississippi and Red River of the North may add much to the luster of the Great Republic, born on the 4th of July, 1776. Let us pursue no narrow policy. Let us welcome the Dane, the Swede, the Norwegian, the Russian, the German, and all newcomers.:"

Somewhere along the line we forgot how to use this potential, and now we are paying for it. We will probably never regain our way of life and the promises it showed, but this area will always be rich with the memories of the bright past.