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]

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

Pioneer Express
January 3, 1908

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

* * * *

Pioneer Express
January 31, 1908

A One-Armed Joker

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

* * * * *

Pioneer Express
February 7, 1902

Meeting notes of the Pembina city council

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

Same issue -

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

* * * * *

Pioneer Express
February 21, 1902

Bids For Ferry Franchise

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guest Essay: The Story of West Lynn

West Lynne, Manitoba townsite, today.

The Story of West Lynne and the First Customs House in Western Canada 
by James McClelland

To  say that the oldest federal building in southern Manitoba had a diverse and chequered past would be an understatement. According to the old Winnipeg Telegram, this building was originally built in the 1850s. The design and architecture were similar to buildings found in the Acadian region of Canada. The article describes the building as "20x26, and made from hewn oak timbers, dove tailed at the corners." Later this building would serve as a symbol of Canadian sovereignty and a floodgate against Yankee commerce.

Today it sits just 500m north of the border it guarded for so long.

The line separating the United States from British territory had always been vague and tentative. Agreement that the 49th parallel would record the western boundary was established as early as 1818, but its exact location tended to shift each time a party had been sent out to survey it. Between 1823 and 1870 three different boundary lines had been drawn; all of them controversial.

In the 1840s, agitation began to develop along this line between the free traders from the Red River Settlement and the Hudson Bay Company officials at Fort Garry. In 1843, the first regular cart service between Pembina and St. Paul was opened. This provided easy access to the American markets. This bickering heightened as more Red River traders sought the higher American prices. It intensified in 1845 when Norman Kittson, an American Trader, opened a store just a scant 4km south of British Territory, at the junction of the Red and the Pembina Rivers.

The door of American commerce was beckoning. In fact, Kittson offered such good prices for fur that the ensuing rush of illegal trade from British Territory was referred to by the HBC as "Kittson’s Fever". As a counter-move in September of 1845, the Hudson Bay Company opened a post called North Fort Pembina. It was located on what they considered their side of the line. The Company put John Palmer Bourke, a retired officer living in the colony, in charge of this new frontier post.

During the winter of 1845-46, Robert Clouston, an employee from the Stone Fort visited this place. In his journal, he described these Spartan surroundings.

"Mr. Bourke has a rough log house, the walls of which, inside and outside are plastered with clay, and the roof covered with earth - it is floored with rough logs: the men live in the same house, with merely a partition between them - a mud chimney in each room and a door opening from Mr. B's apartment to his trading room"

The following day Clouston visited Kittson's store. The uncertainty of the exact spot where American and British authority met is noted in his diary:

"About quarter of a mile above the house (the HBC store) we saw a post planted by Major Long - marking the boundary at a place called Monroe’s Encampment some wag had pulled up the post of demarcation and placed Uncle Sam's initials toward British territory." 

Clouston later reported that Kittson's store was about 3 kms farther south. Here, between Kittson's store and the HBC post, the log house was originally located.

From these squalid beginnings the HBC post at the border continued to develop. A sketch from 1858, shows several log buildings surrounded by a sturdy log palisade.

However, the strip of land between North Pembina and Kittson’s store quickly developed into a "no-man's land." Other buildings sprang up and an unsavory frontier community known as Huron City was born. A few years later the Lieutenant-Governor of Manitoba would complain to Ottawa about the rowdy brawling atmosphere and the flourishing trade in whiskey smuggling that was going on in this "Whisky Post". By this time, the log building, had been turned into an inn.

Unquestionably, many travelers passed through the doors of this establishment, but two guests in particular played a very important role in the creation of Manitoba. In the autumn of 1869, the Hon. Wm. McDougall, the Governor designate of Rupert's Land, stayed here briefly after he was denied entry into the Red River Settlement by Louis Riel's metis guards. In December, McDougall would return to the deserted post and read a Proclamation declaring himself the official lieutenant-governor of the region. Ironically, in August of the following year, Louis Riel himself found momentary refuge in the same building after his hasty escape from Fort Garry.


On July 1, 1871, F. T. Bradley arrived to become Collector of Customs. The log building, empty at the time, became Manitoba's first regular Customs House. It also served as a telegraph, express and postal office. Yet, in October 1871, one of the most bizarre events in Canadian history had yet to unfold on these premises.

Jefferson Highway: North-South (1916-1926)

"We can talk good roads," he continued, "until we are blue in the face if there is not that great highway running between the hearts of the people of the country which binds them together in one common cause. The people hunger after comradeship these days, and, after all, the real test is that after this sacrifice that we are great enough to be conscious of one thing — to act as brothers. We must get away from that which tends to draw away one community from another. A road ought to be a binding tie between the communities through which it passes, and only when men pull apart is it that their problems cannot be solved." 

- Said at State Meeting in Little Falls, MN on October 9, 1917; Delegates and Commissioners from all the Counties along the Jefferson Highway participated in the Great Little Falls Convention

According to the Jefferson Highway Declaration, much of the Jefferson Highway north of Wadena all the way to the Canadian border, was paved only with gravel. This was due mainly to the rural nature of that geographical portion of the road together with the financing available thereof.

From the Warren Sheaf (September 5, 1917):

The Hallock newspapers are belaboring their constituencies and the County Commission for a favorable sentiment toward the appropriation of public money for the building and maintenance of the Jefferson Highway through almost inaccessible swamps and sand dunes in the southeastern part of Kittson county. Marshall county authorities saw the foolishness of routing the Jefferson road.in that part of their county, and have refused to do anything with it. Kittson and Pennington counties are asked to do this work for Marshall county.

The "Soo Line" Jefferson road boosters are determined to "work" Kittson county for a big appropriation to strew along this so called highway, which is only laid out and fit for travel in SPOTS. When next spring the KING'S HIGHWAY is completed from Galveston, Texas, to Winnipeg, Manitoba, the traveling public will forget the Jefferson road to absorb the appropriation of public money. Kittson county people will certainly not stand for any appropriations to be thrown away on the Jefferson road along the 'Soo'.

The above article taken from the Kennedy Star is indeed, misleading to the reader, who is not acquainted with the conditions as they really are. To think that a newspaper editor would try to make his readers believe, that there are sections in this county and in Marshall county, in which there are only sand dunes and swamps! What a poor advertisement this article would be for prospective settlers or tourists to read. The other day we drove over the highway in this county and along the road we found well stocked and equipped farms. Surely this does not bear out the Star's statement.

Sometime ago the Sheaf criticized the highway association because of the route chosen but that was because of the fact that it did not enter or benefit even one town in the county. Had the highway chosen a route passing through the towns in eastern Marshall county or through the towns of western Marshall county, it would have been better off, as far as securing the support of this county is concerned. Now that the route is chosen, we do not believe, the territory through which it passes should be advertised as sandy and swampy country, Just because of petty selfish reasons.

That the Jefferson Highway through Marshall and Kittson counties will ultimately be changed to follow the identical route of the scenic King-of-Trails, is possible, and desirable of course, on account of economy in construction and other advantages, but there is no need to speak slightingly of any portion of the two great counties. After all, Brother Estlund, we believe you will agree with us, when we say that the best form of criticism is that of a constructive nature, rather than a destructive method.

Commissioners of Kittson Report Progress
On "Pine to Palm" Projects

The following letter was received by the state convention from the County Commissioners of Kittson County:

"The members of this board find that their individual affairs will prevent their attendance at the Little Falls meeting on the 9th instant. Notice of the meeting came to our notice too late to permit the necessary arrangements being made.

"This county has about fifty-five miles of Jefferson Highway. Of this nineteen miles have been so constructed as to provide a very reliable all-weather summer road. Thirteen miles more, now under construction, will be completed this fall. The remainder of the Jefferson Highway is all graded up, according to state specifications, and is an excellent road, except in wet weather. It should be hard surfaced.

"We are now contemplating improvement next spring of sixteen miles — Federal aid specifications. We believe the Jefferson Highway Association has been, and is highly instrumental in arousing popular interest in permanent road work, and we sincerely regret our inability to be present at the Little Falls meeting."

REYNARD ANDERSON,
THOS. COLEMAN,
A. HANSON,
C. A. YOUNGGREN,
County Board, Kittson County, Minn.

The excerpt below, from the October 1917 issue of the Jefferson Highway Declaration, goes into further detail on the rivalry-laced insults in the Karlstad and Kennedy newspapers concerning the new Jefferson Highway routing in Kittson County...

Frederick A. Bailey: An NWMP 'Original'

Sgt. Fred Bailey
[Source:  RCMP Veterans Association,
Vancouver Division]

Let me introduce you to an ordinary man who happened to make a bit of local history by just doing what many in his day did - living life, making choices, taking risks.  

"This I believe is the diary of Frederick Bagley when he enlisted in the North-West Mounted Police as a trumpeteer at 15 years of age; They left Fort Dufferin in 1874 to secure the Medicine Line!" 

- J. Rempel

I will be sharing portions of that diary here on this blog at a later time. But for now, let us learn a bit about Sub-Constable Fred Bagley, Trumpeteer ...

According to a fascinating online biography (which I quote here in-full since so many such pages seem to disappear):

Fred Bagley’s musical talents and leadership provided a major contribution to the Force and to the communities he served in.

With regarding setting records, he was first in the following areas: 

a) being the youngest member to be sworn into the Force; 

b) first Trumpeteer in the Force; 

c) present to guard and witness the first person to be hung in the North-West Territories at Fort Saskatchewan; and 

d) first member to lead a musical performance before Royalty.

Emerson Hockey Memories

Photo Source:  James McClelland

The team in the picture above is from the early 1960s. It was made up of players from Emerson, Dominion City, Letellier, Noyes, and players from UND.

Back row, left-right: John Mathes, Al Hayden-Luck, Ben Comeault, Unknown, Tony Loiselle (Goalie), Unknown, Ed Mackay, Alfred "Babe" Ayotte, Doug Gruenke, Gary Beckstead¹.

Front Row left-right: Clayton Grey, Tom Forrest, Dean Beckstead, Donny Kernihan, Barry Solnes, Sam Leathers, Wilf Beaulieu (playing coach). "The unknown players probably were imports from Grand Forks; the team was often accused of bringing in imports", says James McClelland

James McClelland [formerly of Emerson] shared the photo with me, and the following commentary:

Six Shots in the Night

Huron City (1883 Plat Map) Source:  HistoricMapWorks.com

I've written about Huron City a few times here before; and of course Charles Walker wrote about it, making it come alive, in his books Sheriff Charley Brown, and Bordertowns.  This time, I'm sharing another essay about it written by Jim Benjaminson, that was recently featured in the Pembina Historical Society newsletter.

Huron City is long gone now, but once it was a lively conclave nestled along the border...
_______________

Since the earliest days of settlement in what would become Pembina County, many little communities sprang up over the years, many have totally disappeared. Communities such as Hyde Park, Bruce, and Tyner have all but disappeared – leaving behind only the graveyards holding the remains of those early pioneers. Other communities such as Svold, Hallson and Leyden still have a presence, if you know where to look.

During the course of the past years, I’ve given several presentations and each time I’ve asked those in attendance, “Do you know where Huron City was?” Only one person – Ken Gardner – ever raised his hand to reply in the affirmative. Although most of its history has been lost to time, Huron City played a role in Pembina County’s history – most of it, not for the better.

Huron City, Pembina County, Dakota Territory, was located in the extreme northeast corner of the county tucked against the International Boundary to the north, adjoining the Hudson’s Bay company town of West Lynn and the Red River to the east, about two miles north of Pembina.

Newspaper ad for the Half Way House hotel in Huron City

Located on property owned by James H. White, the town-site of Huron City was platted prior to a public auction held September 4, 1879. Advertisements promoting the land sale touted the fact Huron City would be the “terminus of the St. Paul, Minneapolis, and Manitoba Railroad and the Manitoba Southern Railroad”, as well as being located on the main wagon road from Winnipeg where a new “International Bridge” would be built, connecting the two railroads.

The fledgling city already boasted Jim White’s saloon. The saloon was unique in that the building actually straddled the border – a red line painted on the floor indicated whether you were on the Canadian side of the border or the U.S. It was here that a Texas train robber was employed as a bartender – an outlaw who would die in a shoot-out in the Pembina post office in November of 1878 while resisting arrest by a deputy U.S. Marshal, who also died as a result of the affair.

White offered “100 business and residential lots – with no use restrictions”. Sale terms included cash payment of 10% of the sale price the day of the sale, with an additional 40% due within one week. The remaining balance could be paid off within one year at “normal rates”. Paying cash for the entire amount the day of the sale got the buyer a 10% discount. The Pembina Pioneer reported sales were good.

Closeup of Huron City platted streets; note 'Wharf St' in NE part of map...

Unlike many of the previously mentioned neighborhood communities, Huron City was platted into lots and streets – Anna Street, Elizabeth Street, Matheson Street, Huron Street and May Street running at an angle (southwest to northeast) with cross streets of First Street, 2nd Street, Third, Fourth and Fifth Streets (only 2nd street was marked with a numerical number, others were spelled out in full) and Wharf Street – leading to the river and presumably a river boat landing.

Article in the October 20, 1892
edition of the Winnipeg Tribune

In addition to White’s saloon, Dan Rogers was the proprietor of the International Hotel, which along with an attached residence, burned to the ground September 4, 1885. For the “sporting crowd”, there were also two houses of ill-repute, one run by Pearl Gould, the other by Nellie Dunn¹. Both establishments closed their doors after an incident the night of October 19, 1892 when a party of men from Emerson attempted to enter Pearl Gould’s but were refused entry. Pearl and her “soiled doves” retreated to the safety of Nellie’s, where the same parties were also refused entry. During the ensuing fracas, an Emerson hotel keeper named John Wagner was shot and killed.

Nellie Dunn was arrested and brought before a Grand Jury at Pembina. Although there was some question as to whether Nellie had actually fired the fatal shot, the jury determined Wagner’s death was justifiable homicide due to threats he had made to harm Nellie. Following the not guilty verdict, Nellie, Pearl and the other “ladies of the evening” were advised it might be advisable for them to return to Canada. Local papers remarked that the Gould name was “more than familiar” to law enforcement in Pembina County.

Although little more is known about Huron City, it remains a unique experiment is establishing a thriving community. Within a few square miles of land encompassing what is now North Dakota, Minnesota, and Manitoba, seven communities were established - Pembina, Huron City, West Lynn, Emerson, St. Vincent, Noyes, and Interapolis. Six had established residences and businesses; five still exist.

Interapolis, Minnesota, which would have been directly across the Red River from Huron City, never materialized. Huron City, Pembina County, Dakota Territory is unique in that it was documented in Pembina County Atlas’ as late as 1909, long after it had faded away to nothing more than a fleeting memory.

¹ - A sidelight to the Nellie Dunn story. After she was "invited" to leave the U.S., she ended up in Spokane, Washington, in February 1893; still plying her trade, where she "shot and killed her boyfriend". The locals weren't as understanding as Pembina -- they took Nellie out and lynched her.

UPDATE 13 August 2020:  From fellow local historian and author, Jim Benjaminson, "...the story I did on Huron City - about Nellie Dunn being hung in Spokane, Washington is false. Nellie 'removed' to Winnipeg after the affair in Huron City and continued to work as a prostitute. The story of her hanging came from an eastern Canadian newspaper...I found Winnipeg papers that made mention of her after the date of the supposed hanging."

Ferry Command Article

Pembina’s brief moment of world attention, then, was part of the demise of American innocence. 

- "Earth Angels Rising", by Ted Beaudoin

It has been reported that the opening scenes of the 1941 Tyrone Power-Betty Grable movie, “A Yank in the RAF,” shows airplanes on the Pembina border being hauled into Canada. The narrator says, the way to get around neutrality restrictions is “Yankee ingenuity and a stout rope.” 

- Horse-drawn planes part of N.D. history (Bismarck Tribune, Jan. 16, 2011)

Emerson International Airport
by Bill Zuk (Nov 3, 2012)
Copyright © 2015 CAHS

Prince & Fred help make history! 

January 15, 1940 - It was miserably cold that morning when Joe Wilson hitched his team of horses to a wagon. He looked up in the sky to see two aircraft circling overhead. Joining a procession of cars and a truck laden down with fuel barrels, he lumbered his way to the front, coaxing his workhorses, Prince and Fred, forward along the wind-swept field. The assembled crowd began to gesture at the swooping twin-engine planes now clearly in view. Piling out of one of the lead cars was a film crew that hastily set up a tripod and movie camera.

Approaching the 'landing strip'
on Pembina side of the border.

Jimmy Mattern, the famous test pilot, peered out the side cockpit, astonished at the sight below. It was a wind sock planted in the middle of the prairies. After the long cross-country excursion from Burbank with numerous stops along the way, he was nearly at the end of his ferry flight. Lining up for an approach, he maneuvered the Lockheed Hudson bomber downwind for a landing short of the international border that straddled his landing site. Following closely behind was an identical Hudson bomber, also painted in a dark drab, with only civilian markings on the underside of the wings to identify it. The subsequent touchdown was hard, the second bomber swerving off the improvised runway and nearly tipping on its nose, before righting itself.

Reclaiming an Abandoned Cemetery

On September 19th of this year, Kim McAllister Anderson and I took a trip up north, into Manitoba, Canada. Emerson, to be exact. Town of my birth, and much more. But that aside, we were on a mission: To locate, by rough map, an old almost-forgotten cemetery.

Thanks to Wayne Arnesy, former Mayor of Emerson, he and some other helpers reclaimed the old gravestones they could locate and now it is roughly maintained annually. It is in a grove of oak trees in the middle of a farmer's field, not far from a marsh-like slough. A trail leads to it, which can be traversed in a 4-wheel drive off-road vehicle. Or if you're up to it, hiked a half mile from the street that ends at the current cemetery - closer to town and on higher of ground to prevent flooding.

Pembina Ferry Command Video

Although mislabeled, the video below is indeed a very brief clip of a Ferry Command operation, towing planes across the US/Canadian border at Pembina ND/Emerson MB.  We didn't know it existed until recently.  A real treasure of a find!

The man in the long coat at the beginning of the film is Harry Wood, of Pembina ND, as identified by his granddaughter, Lori Wood Goertzen.

Off to the Races!

Metis Rider; note the beaded saddle blanket...

...The following month, the annual horse race known as the Dufferin races, was held in Emerson. Participants included the Irish Catholic proprietor of a livery stable in Emerson, J.F. Tennant, and two local Metis horsemen, Joseph Godon of Deux Petites Pointes, in Montcalm, and Roger Gosselin of St. Vincent, Minnesota. At such events social boundaries were more fluid.

- The Limits of Rural Capitalism by Kenneth Michael Sylvester

Emerson Minister Goes to War

The article below shares a typical yet extraordinary story of one WWI veteran.  His name was Amos Mayse, and among the many things he did in his life, it included being a Minister of God in Emerson, Manitoba.  Read about his story below...

The last veterans of the First World War — friend and foe alike — have now joined their slain comrades from the Ypres Salient, Regina Trench, Vimy Ridge, Polygon Wood and Coronel and a thousand other far-flung battlefields. 

And increasingly, the grey-headed ranks of the Second World War also depart to join the fading divisions that preceded them. 

So Remembrance Day becomes increasingly important. It keeps us from forgetting who we are — and why. 

Yet one of the things that is sometimes easy to overlook amid the stirring music, the flights of warplanes, the firing of volleys, the spit-and-polish drill and the official laying of wreaths is that among all the things that war entails, all war is always about families. 

It is from families that the warriors come. It is families that bear their loss, or worse, that carry the wreckage when broken warriors return. It is families that suffer and it is in families that the most important and intimate remembrances are cherished. 

So here’s one family’s war story.

Line of Fire

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Prohibition Communion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lending a Hand

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

Source: Wikipedia

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

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

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.

Setting the Record Straight

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

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

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

Shot in a Bagnio

 A typical brothel 'menu' around the turn of the century
- Click to see clear copy -
[Warning:  Graphic Language]

HEADLINE:  The Fate of a Hotel Proprietor at Emerson

Winnipeg, Man., Oct. 19, 1892 - John Wagner, proprietor of the Carney house¹, Emerson, Man., was shot in a bagnio a mile (south)west of the town last night. His body was taken to Pembina, where an inquest will be held tomorrow. The inmates of the house are under arrest in the Pembina jail. The murderess was Nellie Dunn, keeper of the house. She originally resided in Winnipeg. Wagner and others were in the act of battering down the door, when five shots were fired, one taking effect in the breast, from which he died in ten minutes. He leaves a wife and two children. The murderess is one of those under arrest at Pembina. Drink was the cause of the whole affair.

From the St. Paul Daily Globe October 20, 1892

For a more detailed description of Nellie and the event above, read the following recollection by an eye witness (courtesy J. Rempel of Halbstadt, Manitoba...)