Beach's: Algoma's Answer to FAO Schwartz

For those of a certain age, the start of a new school year and Christmas bring thoughts of Beach's. Was there any place better? Well, maybe FAO Schwartz in New York, but what did Algoma kids in the '40s, '50s and '60s know about the big retailer unless they happened to see a catalogue?

To stop at Beach's on the first day of school meant, "School's out, school's out. Teacher left the monkeys out!" It also meant that kids were lined up along the store's south wall checking out needed pencils, pens, ink, erasers, rulers and more. Bulk candy cases lined part of the north wall and for those kids who took good care of last year's leftover supplies, there was money left to spend on Ju-Jus, licorice, maple drops, chocolate covered raisins  and more. Kids who earned their school supply money picking beans at 2 or 3 cents a pound knew how long they picked for that 10 cent bottle of ink or the 3 cent eraser. Better to buy 10 cents worth of candy than ink.

There were stops at Beach's any time anybody had a few cents to spend, always at the candy counter. But then it was Thanksgiving and kids had to start hoarding those few cents. Even though school kids made gifts their parents for Christmas, everybody wanted to make a purchase that was wrapped in Christmas paper. Then it was a walk to the rear of the store where the handkerchiefs, dish towels, measuring spoons, pot holders and dishes were. So was the Blue Waltz, the perfume of the day that came in a big bottle. Mothers stressed the importance of useful, practical gifts while praying that Beach's ran out of it before her son or daughter got there. For more than a few, their prayers went unanswered!

Beach's basement was where it was really at. Before Christmas it was filled with the best toys, dolls and doll clothes, books, wagons, skates, cut-out books, coloring books, doll dishes, trucks, tractors and all the things important to kids over 50 years ago. The basement was where kids prayed their wishes would come true. Sometimes those prayers went unanswered too.

Everybody got pajamas, socks, underwear and maybe a dress, sweater or pants. Gifts were practical. Following World War ll, few had the money for extravagance and extravagance was anything not really necessary. The wooden soldier in FAO Schwartz stands tall observing children passing by with stars in their eyes. Those of a certain age return to Algoma to visit family and friends, driving down 4th, casting an eye toward the old Beach's. For some, rather than stars, a tear or two trickles down the cheek. The kids of the '40s, '50s and '60s see the passage of time and wonder where it all went.

The photo of Beach's was taken from the Commercial History of Algoma, Wisconsin, c. 2006, and used with permission.

Celebrating Christmas in Wolf River, Ahnapee & Algoma

Christmas is Christmas. The reason for it never changes, though over the years its celebration has. Wolf River’s first Christmas 163 years ago was much different than Algoma's was a short 50 years later. The early families knew about Father Christmas but possibly not of Clement Moore's description of him. Howling of wolves surely broke an otherwise silent night,  but it is doubtful the families sang about it, and a white Christmas on the Door County peninsula was more of a fact than a dream.

In the tiny 1851 settlement called Wolf River, there were three families. The Hughes and Tweedales arrived on June 28, 1851. Warners came a week later on the 4^th of July. They survived eking out a living in a wilderness with only themselves upon whom to depend. For as much food as they had laid by, it was running out by Christmas. An icing Lake Michigan was not conducive to a trip to Manitowoc by small sailboat, and a trip on foot along the shore was more than arduous. It was unsafe. Nevertheless, someone would have to try it, but it had to wait.

Christmas Day found the three families together celebrating the birth of the Christ child. There was no clergyman reading the Christmas story from a bible. The dinner menu was one most Algoma residents would be unfamiliar with – a salt pork pie – and one they’d rather stay unfamiliar with!  If gifts were exchanged, they weren’t recorded, but it is likely that on his trips to Manitowoc, Orrin Warner brought something for the children’s stockings. Perhaps he returned with yarn so his wife Jane could knit mittens or stockings. Perhaps he brought candy canes. Maybe he carved little toys or even built a sled. Nobody knows for certain.

As Wolf River grew and turned into Ahnapee and then Algoma, Christmas celebrations changed. Twenty-two years after that first Christmas, the fledgling Record told of angels singing and merry throngs of residents looking forward to a new light. Christmas was not yet commercialized. At least not in Ahnapee. That 1873 paper also told of a Christmas Eve program planned by the Philothean Society. Unusual by 2014 standards, the activities included a debate discussing the how detrimental Great Britain’s rule of Ireland was. An essay and an oration rounded out the evening’s program. If there was a tiny bit of Christmas in that program, it wasn’t mentioned. By 1881, the Enterprise used Christmas to make sport of Ahnapee girls, saying they washed their stockings so they could hoist them up with pulleys to ensure Santa would fill them. The Record countered with the smell of Kewaunee stockings and then went on to say that most Kewaunee girls never wore them because it was nearly impossible to find any big enough. The papers didn’t stop the barbs long enough to reflect the cheer and good feelings of the season.

Church services reflect joyously on the birth of Christ. But, services have changed too. Franz Gruber composed Silent Night in 1818, but more than likely the early Ahnapee choirs had never heard of it. The arrival of pastors meant church services for most, though the Record pointed out the Baptists’ lack of services during the 1880s. After 1900 the paper noted how the pastors put effort into the services, with some even arranging to have Christmas trees. In an effort to augment income, Ahnapee and Algoma ship captains made one last trip in November or early December, taking Christmas trees from the north woods to Milwaukee and Chicago, at first supplying mostly the German immigrant population. Ironically, years before, in 1851, a Lutheran church in Cleveland, Ohio made news when it had a Christmas tree, which some called “idolatry.”

By 1904 Christmas was again changing. Algoma was filled with Christmas spirit and yuletide greetings. Church services were important. College students joined their families, and relatives went back and forth visiting each other.

Schools offered programs open to the entire community. Children recited their pieces, sang songs and acted in skits. Algoma’s school presentation was on December 23^rd in 1909 as was Slovan’s in 1923, unheard of in 2014 when the hustle and bustle would never allow it. Most school programs included a visit from Santa Claus who brought popcorn balls and candy canes. Vacation followed.

When Mrs. C.L. Barnes opened her new store before Christmas 1909, she invited women to purchase her new Haights Vegetable Silk Hosiery, something known for durability. It was noticed that baby things were being purchased while Algoma teachers spent noon hour shopping for gifts for each other during one of the institutes. That brought questions. What was it that not everybody in the small town knew? Boedecker's drug store advertised “Elegant Toilet Sets,” - in those days meaning a comb, brush and mirror – while Kwapil was offering opportunities with sale merchandise.

RFD had come into effect throughout the county on November 20, 1904 and a month later the Record told residents how to meet the letter of the law by keeping their mailboxes open and snow cleared. Christmas cards were introduced in England years before and it was RFD that helped them spread in the U.S. Red Cross continued fundraising efforts in 1909 selling stamps to “Stamp Out Tuberculosis.” It was a good year. Christmas mail was getting so heavy by 1923 that Casco’s mail carriers Christ Drury and Joe Koss made no secret of looking forward to January.

Quiren Groessl was a soldier at Camp MacArthur in 1917 when his Christmas note reported that the men were anxious to get to the battlefields of France. Kewaunee Mayor Edward Seyk had gone to the Texas camp to visit all the Kewaunee County boys while the county’s women kept on with their Red Cross work, thus helping the fighting men. The women of St. Paul’s were putting together boxes for Indian missions in the Southwest.

For 10 or 15 cents, residents in 1916 saw matinee and evening Christmas Eve showings at the Majestic. Viola Allen started in the 6-reel feature The White Sister. Bank of Algoma knew their customers would be pleased to receive a pretty calendar when they called for it.

Schubich’s Furniture reported in 1923 that rocking chairs were the #1 gift, followed by pictures. Guth’s music store customers dug deep in their pockets to buy 4 pianos and 15 phonographs. Barney Google was the most popular sheet music, followed by Bohemian and German waltzes. Melchior’s jewelry store knew many young girls were getting wrist watches, while Joe Charlier said his customers were buying clocks. Both were selling diamond rings. Bach-Dishmaker knew that most would be receiving sensible handkerchiefs and socks, but also knew which woman was getting a $100 coat, a big ticket item. LaPalina and Harvester cigars and sweaters were also on lists. Shaving sets were the fad at Groessl’s drug store but L.J. Englebert said heavy clothing was not moving. Merchants were looking for snow and a threatening sky, sure to help sales because the weather was too warm. Lidral-Gerhart was selling kerosene and gas lamps, Pyrex baking ware and jackknives. Weather wasn’t important there.

Christmas celebrations evolved. Clement Moore’s Visit From St. Nicholas was published anonymously in 1823. Moore told us about Santa's twinkling eyes and the "little round belly that shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly." White Rock Beverages used a red and white image of the jolly old man as early as 1915. We wonder what we will receive on the first day of Christmas and every other day. Irving Berlin has us still dreaming of a white Christmas, and journalist and humorist Helen Brooks White wrote, “To perceive Christmas through its wrappings becomes more difficult every year.” Isaiah said, “For unto us a child is born,” and Luke said, “She brought forth her firstborn and wrapped him in swaddling clothes…..” And as the familiar carol goes, “God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay."

Sources: Ahnapee Record and Algoma Record Herald;  An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River?, c. 2001; Commercial History of Algoma Wisconsin, Vols. 1 & 2, c. 2006 & 2012; Here Comes the Mail, Post Offices of Kewaunee County, c. 2010; postcards are in the blogger's collection.

One Way to Skin a Cat: Grandma's Petticoats

Its hard to believe this little rocker played a big role during Prohibition, but it did. So did the little lady rocking in it. Nobody suspected a 90 year old woman of boot-legging. But, her widow's weeds and voluminous skirts held more belts than the one holding up her skirt and petticoat!

Grandpa's family came from French Canada just prior to Wisconsin Statehood. He was one of the younger children and U.S.-born in 1869. Grandma was born in France in 1872, immigrating with her parents three years later. Grandma's father was a hotelier (below left) and she was born in the living quarters of his French establishment. Grandpa's folks were farmers who went north in the late 1870s to open a hotel serving the logging industry.

Rue de la Barre 21

Grandma was a single child. Maybe that was why she had 14 children in 26 years. Grandpa and Grandma always lived near her parents and fairly close to his until Grandpa gave up farming to buy a hotel several hours distant. By the time Grandpa and Grandma bought the hotel, some of the older children had left the nest and the middle tier was there to do what needed to be done. The boys took care of the barn and helped their mother cook. The girls were chamber maids and staffed in the dining room.

It was Prohibition and there was indeed a bar area for socializing, conversation and cards. The bar sold pop, candy bars, and even cider. No doubt some was hard cider. All meals were served on schedule in the dining room, though the girls who served weren't permitted to enter the tap room. Sometimes they sneaked behind the bar, running and hoping to snag some candy on the way through. That's where they saw the most unusual things.

Their old grandma sat rocking away and knitting in the bar room. The hotel catered to traveling men and that's who frequented the bar. Two girls entering their teens thought some of the younger men were so handsome and were always amazed how those men would sidle up to Grandma, hugging and snuggling her. She was so old! Why would those good looking men pay so much attention to such an old lady.

Years later, the girls found out. Moonshine was kept under the gutter boards - under the manure - in the barn before being transferred to small bottles that were hidden in the folds of Grandma's skirts. She might have been 90 but she was adept at passing off the bottles. If revenuers were around, they were none the wiser. If there would have been suspicion, it was shame on the man who violated the skirts of a 90 year old woman. The little old lady was not deaf either; the telephone was on the wall adjacent to her bedroom door!

Whoever said there was more than one way to skin a cat knew what he was talking about.

Photos were taken by Kay and Thayis.

Railroads, Edward Decker & the Horse That Changed History

On May 10, 1869 the Golden Spike was driven in Utah Territory at Promontory Summit. The railroad tied the United States together and history was made. Had a horse not turned vicious, nearly chewing off the arm of Kewaunee County’s Edward Decker, railroad history might have had a few other twists and turns with Decker in the thick of the transcontinental railroad.

Edward Decker came to Kewaunee County from Menasha in 1855, purchasing large tracts of land. As a speculator, he settled on what was called Decker Creek before it was renamed Casco after Casco, Maine, the area in which Mr. Decker was born.  At the county’s organization, Decker became Deputy County Clerk, Deputy Register of Deeds and Deputy Treasurer. His years in office affected the settlement of Wolf River, as well as the entire county, more than any other elected official in the county’s history. The picture Decker presented when he arrived in Kewaunee was neither one of influence nor affluence. It was said he had come in patched clothing, carrying his lunch in a handkerchief, hoping to be named coroner.

Assuming so much responsibility for the county, Mr. Decker moved from Casco to Kewaunee, erecting a small one-story frame building, with living quarters, on Ellis Street. There he conducted Kewaunee County business for the next 16 years. Recognizing the need for a newspaper, in 1859 he began publication of Kewaunee Enterprize,* adding space in the building for that. Decker’s in-county newspaper insured that legal notices - and the associated publishing fees - would go to his paper, not to the Green Bay Advocate which had been publishing them. The first edition of the newspaper was not only praising him when it described him as, “shrewd, of excellent character and a good businessman.” His newspaper served to further his goals.

Mr. Decker was related to those of prominence. Joanna Curtin Decker, his 3^rd wife, was the niece of Andrew Curtin, governor of Pennsylvania and a close friend of Abraham Lincoln. Joanna’s brother Jeremiah, who was said to know 70 languages. served as Secretary and Acting Counsel in the U.S. legation in St. Petersburg, Russia. Decker manipulated the Kewaunee County Democratic party and manipulated the county beyond. A man of wealth, he was one of 10 residents with a taxable income in 1869.

Edward Decker dealt with legal battles for years. Some dealt with county finances and others dealt with his own. Some dealt with the deaths of his wives. Being prominent, wealthy and in a position of power meant his actions, right or wrong, were closely examined. Especially in the bad times.



Casco, 1910 postmark; Decker home left

With one exception, Decker always seemed to bounce back from life’s greatest challenges. On May 22, 1869 he lost the use of his left arm while trying to control the spirited horse he was driving. The horse seized Decker’s arm in its teeth and mangled it, chewing the hand and arm to a pulp while almost trampling the man to death. Decker was near death for several weeks and it was August before he regained the strength to even sit for a bit. A month later, a Green Bay physician said Decker’s health was poorer than any time since the accident and a few days later, the arm was amputated. It was a year before Decker was well enough to be seen on the street.

As early as November1860, Edward Decker gave notice of applying to secure a railroad and a state road from Kewaunee to Green Bay and from Ahnapee to Green Bay. While the Democrat Decker was serving in the State Senate in 1861, his relative Republican W.S. Finley was a member of the Assembly. Finley introduced a bill to incorporate the Kewaunee and the Green Bay railroads, but the Civil War interrupted the plans.

Years later, in 1868, Mr. Decker was about to proceed with an idea which could have been the first railroad from the Northeast to the Pacific. With his business associate C. B. Robinson, editor of the Green Bay Advocate, Decker and lumberman Anton Klaus obtained a charter and were organizing a railroad line from Green Bay to St. Paul. This time it was the accident that put the railroad on hold. When health forced his withdrawal and resignation as railroad president, the railroad was instead built to Winona. It was years before Mr. Decker completed a freight and passenger line, but this time it was from Casco Junction – where it connected with the Kewaunee, Green Bay and Western Railroad - to Sturgeon Bay. Though the accident left him physically crippled, Edward Decker remained a business force who still executed thousands of acres of land transactions. 

 

Ahnapee and Western Railroad was incorporated on August 18, 1890 and began service in 1892. Financed largely by Decker, it serviced his business interests while serving Kewaunee and Door Counties as well. Built without federal subsidies, the company did secure about $76,000 in financial assistance from the county and the communities on its route. The Village of Ahnapee voted to contribute $23,000 in support of the bond issue, and to provide $10,000 in depot and dock privileges. Edward Decker, who provided the most capital and who eventually acquired most of the railroad's stock, was the railroad's first president. His company was short-lived however. When the Decker family fortune collapsed in 1906, the Kewaunee, Green Bay and Western purchased the controlling interest in the Ahnapee and Western but kept the name.

Kewaunee's New Era  complained almost weekly that the railroad was bringing all kinds of tramps, vagrants and bums. The drummers, who sold everything from corsets to non-existent gold mine stocks, were not much more respected. At night they would sit on the hotel porches and whistle at women who were foolish enough to walk past without a male escort. No doubt there were other complaints, however with the coming of the railroad, residents had the speed, the economy and better access for marketing their products, travel and acquiring things they wanted. Real estate values increased. Where it had previously taken three days to get to Green Bay by horse drawn vehicle, a trip by train was as short as a few hours most of the time. A new era had arrived.

Just under 100 years later, Door County Advocate columnist Doug Larson commented on the railroad, but much differently. Larson observed in the Advocate that it was only because of the ship canal that the railroad reached Sturgeon Bay. Without it, Algoma (Ahnapee), because of its location on the lake shore and easier access to railroad service, could have been the commercial center of the entire region. 

King William lll, in Shakespeare’s play of the same name, lamented, “My kingdom for a horse…..” Edward Decker was a self-educated man whose collection included a vast library of rare books. No doubt he thought of William lll more than a few times!

 *The paper was Enterprize until 1865 when it became Enterprise.

Kewaunee New Era was discontinued in December 1894 after 3 1/2 years of publication.  Its publishers planned to give additional attention to the Kewaunee County Banner, a German newspaper owned by the  company.

Sources: An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River?; Decker files at the Area Research Center, UW-Green Bay; Here Comes the Mail, Post Offices of Kewaunee County. Doug Larson Advocate, 9/18/1998; Kewaunee New Era. Photos are in the blogger's collection.