Hotel Stebbins: 158 Years and Still Going Strong!

Rumors fueled by recent news items revolve around the possibility of a new multi-story hotel and conference center in Algoma. If talk is credible, the new facility would be in the heart of the early “hotel district,” now humorously referred to as Algoma’s financial district.  Not long after first settling, the area around 2^nd and Steele laid claim to a number of hotels, however there were several more within a few blocks.

From Kewaunee Enterprize, 1859

Early settlers frequently had traveling strangers stay the night with them until 1856, a mere five years after first settling, A.D. Eveland often had overnight guest and then he began advertising. Tiny Wolf River boasted Eveland's hotel on 4th Street near the river. Eveland was so successful that Mathias Simon built his Metropolitan House on the north side bluff overlooking the entrance to the river. Simon’s structure remains today as a private residence.  Then Mrs. Jane McDonald Loval/Lovell, opened the Union House, an early frame building constructed in 1857 by William Henry and Rufus Ames. Just south the southwest corner of 1st and Steele Streets, Mrs. Loval’s welcoming sign attracted

guests as they trudged up the hill from the harbor’s entrance. As a devout member of the Church of England, Mrs. Loval made good use of her Scotch-Irish brogue in maintaining order during the boisterous winter when the hamlet saw men, including sailors, come to town looking for employment in the big woods. Jane Loval’s husband Jack was one of those sailors.

Wolf River was growing and by 1858 had an astounding five hotels. Speculators David Youngs and George Steele - the men who platted the original town – needed a good hotel if they were going to promote the sales of their land. During the spring of 1857 Youngs and Steele, who was on one of his semi-annual trips from Chicago, offered Capt. Charles Fellows his choice of lots in their new plat if he'd build a hotel costing at least $1,000. Fellows chose the lot on the northwest corner of 2^nd and Steele where a portion of the original hotel remains. Fellows’ hotel was named the Tremont House, likely putting it in the same league as the elegant and famous Boston lodging with the same name.

Capt. Fellows’ Tremont House was a frame "skyscraper" with an attic. A.D. Eveland dug the cellar and furnished stone for the Tremont's foundation while James Keogh built the cellar walls. Other than the shingles made in the area, most building materials were brought from Racine aboard the Whirlwind, the master of which was Capt. Fellows. Racine carpenters Mr. Wood and Mr. Adams did the bulk of the work for three dollars a day plus board. It was work that lasted into the winter of 1857-1858. 

Mary Frances Fellows and her father John L.V. Yates oversaw the construction as Capt. Fellows was away conducting his shipping business much of the time. Freights were low and cargo hard to acquire. Fall-out from the Dred Scott decision plunged the country – especially the northern states - into hard economic times. Squire Yates assisted his daughter and son-in-law by moving into the unfinished hotel in the fall of 1857 and keeping boarders and travelers. But after the building was finished in the spring, lack of business reflected the poor economy. Mary Frances, served as matron of the Tremont House during and following the Civil War, however she spent each summer and fall with her family at Foscoro where her enterprising husband had purchased a sawmill and bridge pier.

Hotel business didn’t appeal to Fellows who hired managers that included some of Wolf River and Ahnapee’s most illustrious citizens, Seymour Palmer, E. Shaw and Capt. Bill McDonald. Capt. and Mrs. Fellows later built a home almost next door to the hotel, just south of the intersection of 2^nd and State Streets, the site of the bowling alley today. After Fellows sold the hotel, it was owned by a succession of the community’s residents, later becoming the Ahnapee House, Weilep’s and eventually the Hotel Stebbins, which remains today. It was said John Weilep was the man who turned the business into a money maker.

Today’s three-story brick and stone front section was constructed in 1905 by Frank Slaby who acquired the building in 1898. When Slaby built the new front, the original structure was moved back and to the north along 2^nd Street. Slaby renamed the business to honor State Senator DeWayne Stebbins who died a few years earlier. Over the years, the hotel has been the home of barbershops, a tailor shop, restaurants and a radio station. It is the oldest continuously operating business in Algoma and in all of Kewaunee County. If walls could talk, the remaining section would have plenty to say even though the building has been significantly refurbished and remodeled over its 158 years. The picture on the left appears to date to the Armistice in 1919. Part of the old section at right contrasts with Slaby's addition.

J.R. McDonald built his Kenosha House across Steele from the Tremont in 1858. It became the site of some of the village’s noteworthy entertainment in addition to holding a number of other ventures. Michael McDonald ran his auctioneering business from the Kenosha. He and William Van Doozer operated a mercantile, and J.R. and George Elliott conducted a law office there. The fledgling Ahnapee Record began publication on the second floor in 1873 and four years later Celestin Capelle and his father-in-law, Mr. Dagneau, opened a new store. A year later Maynard Parker purchased Dagneau’s interest to form a new partnership. Franz Schubich’s furniture store was in the building in 1881, followed by Haney Implement in 1887. Frank McDonald ran his photography business in the building until 1887 when he relocated to Kewaunee. McDonald’s existing photographs of Ahnapee are truly local treasures. Joseph Jakubovsky bought the building in 1888 only to have it destroyed by fire in July. McDonald’s building was always filled to capacity and if its walls could talk, it would certainly reflect politics and secrets, local and far beyond.

Advertised as being near the bridge, Meverden’s Sherman House was built across 2^nd Street from the Tremont just after the Civil War when Ahnapee was on the cusp of a boom. The business didn’t last long as the place burned down in 1870 after an attic stove pipe started a fire. By the time contractor Michael McDonald constructed the frame building, the area had seen the rise of brickyards and a few structures were veneered with the new brick. But, some of those buildings also saw destructive fires.

William Bastar's hostelry on the northeast corner of 4^th and Clark, was being called one of the finest hotels in the country in 1883. According to the paper, it was carpeted, well furnished and decorated, offered fine entertainment and the best quality culinary products. The Record said Bastar's accommodations were fine for both men and their horses. Bastar’s establishment sported a sample room in which salesmen could display and hawk their wares to city merchants, a saloon, pool tables and an upstairs gallery. The paper said the hall presented a "magnificent appearance" and was one of which Ahnapee could be proud.

The upstairs hall was converted into rooms for guests and it was not until just after 2000 that new owner Scott and Paula Talamadge “found” it as they were refurbishing the old building. With its curved ceiling, gas light medallions, bandstand on one end of the room and multiple windows, the paper’s glowing comments were easy to understand. One can only imagine the social events held there.

One can imagine something else. During the refurbishing Mr. Talamadge saw something he thought strange. From a perch above the small

bandstand balcony, he saw a number of boxes in about the center of the room, between the curved ceiling and the roof. It was an unusual place for storage. On closer examination he found tubing and other remnants that could have only come from Prohibition. It appeared that the tubing was accessed through the medallions (see left) surrounding the hanging light fixtures.

Bastar was born in Bohemia in 1840, coming to America with his family in 1856. A respected businessman, he was an active participant in community affairs, serving as a notary public, school board clerk and county treasurer. Bastar sold to Louis Kirchman although the hotel has had a number of owners and remains today as the Steelhead Saloon.

William Boedecker's Wisconsin House, located at the southeast corner of 4th and Steele, would later house Boedecker Bros. and Johnson’s drug stores, Koenig’s jewelry, Algoma Produce, Asa Birdsall’s real estate company, Groessl Pharmacy, Groessl-Nesemann Pharmacy, Dr. Komoroske's dental office, Rupp's floor coverings, H & R. Block and more. Joseph Knipfer seems to have been the first recorded person to build on the site in May 1860, however there is evidence to suggest it was the site of Christian Weidner/Wagner’s store before the site was platted.

Boedecker, a carpenter in Two Rivers, had been a hotel proprietor since his arrival in 1871 when he announced that he would take in strangers. His second hotel was erected in 1875 after an April 15th fire destroyed his frame building. Immediately after the fire, Boedecker hired Haag and Simon to construct a temporary building in which to keep his lucrative saloon business going. That the saloon was built in just two days, April 18 and 19, 1875, attests to its popularity. After the hotel was enclosed with brick in August, Leopold Meyer put on a tin roof. Also popular was the hotel’s fine food – from the kitchen overseen by Boedecker’s wife Margaret - and its horse drawn omnibus, which shuttled guests from the dock to the hotel. For awhile Martin Bretl was operating the hotel which was renamed the Hotel Algoma when the city adopted its new name, however it was called Hotel Martin when Frank McCoskey bought it in 1903. The building remains.

Cream City House in background

Charles Henneman's Cream City House, built in 1866 on the southwest corner of Third and Steele, was also destroyed by fire, one that started in a basement bake oven on April 19, 1887. The small, low-voiced, well-groomed Mr. Hennemann found fame with his sumptuous pies for which he charged one of Edward Decker's shinplasters, rather than the nickel the pies cost before the Civil War.

Henneman's marvelous accommodations and exceptional meals were noted in articles over the years. It was said he knew how to keep a hotel and his wife was known for the fine table she set.

It was also said Mr. Hennemann tried to increase his stature by marrying a large wife, an image conjuring up Jack Spratt and his wife. George Wing wrote about the summer day when a Steele Street butcher came flying out of his shop yelling with the exacting Mrs. Hannemann right behind him brandishing his meat cleaver. It seems the butcher had sold Mrs. Hennemann a pork chop that did not meet her standards.

In more recent memory is the old DeGuelle tavern and liquor store on the southeast corner of 1^st and Steele. Dating to the early 1860s when the building served as a small boarding house or hotel, the building was demolished in an upgrade of Algoma’s marina and harbor park. The original building was yellow brick that most likely came from Franz Swaty’s brickyard in what is now the Lake St. hill. Directly east of DeGuelle’s tavern was a little yellow brick home owned by Swaty’s daughter Julie. When Joe Villers bought the property in 1876, he hung a sign saying “Rosiere House.”

Telesfore Charles/Challe changed the hotel’s name to St. Charles House when he bought the place a few years later. The St. Charles House Hotel got very little mention in the local press, however its sale to Mr. Houart in January 1898 after eighteen years of business prompted the paper to take note.

It was not only the proprietors of Ahnapee's hotels who felt they were doing their best: the January 30, 1883, Kewaunee Times reported “that without a doubt Ahnapee had as good hotel accommodations as could be found in any city of its size in the entire state.”

Today’s hotels include the historic Stebbins, Algoma Beach Motel that had its start with Hans Chapek in the 1930s, Scenic Shores, Harbor Inn, River Hills and Barbie Ann Motel. If the Kewaunee Times were still in business, it would probably make the same comment. 

Sources: An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River? c. 2001;  Commercial History of Algoma, Wisconsin,  Vols. 1 & 2, c. 2006 and 2012; Algoma Record Herald, Here Comes the Mail, Post Offices of Kewaunee County c. 2010; Yours Truly, from Kewaunee County, c. 2013.

The Best Little Schoolhouse in Lincoln: Jt. District #4

Rural schools were something about which I knew little. Living in the city, I went to a city elementary school and only found out about the rural schools when Mom returned to teaching. As a married woman with young children, she had no intention of teaching, but the male teacher in a one room school had what was called a nervous breakdown and the school was closed for lack of a teacher. Knowing Mom was a teacher, the county superintendent asked her to fill in until a long term teacher could be found. Filling in continued for decades!

The first time I ever saw all 8 grades in one room was the first time that I had a day off and got to go to Mom’s school. It was filled with the nicest kids ever. Not because I was Teacher’s daughter; they were just nice kids. The school was beyond my expectations.  It had a stage on one side of the classroom and a whole side room for a library. That library also had a dipper and pail until the day sanitation came in the guise of a huge canister with a bubbler attached. Water pumped outdoors into a pail was brought in and poured into the canister. Most rural schools had outhouses, but this one was modern with basement pit toilets. The pit toilets didn’t flush, however they didn’t smell  nearly as bad as outhouses. The toilets were in the girls’ or the boys’ basements, which had poured walls and a concrete floor offering a place to play in inclement weather. With a separate room for a library and all those books, the pit toilets weren’t a bad trade off. And the stage? It was flanked by the girls’ cloakroom, with the girls’ basement underneath, and a storage area as big as the cloakroom. There was plenty of room for kids to keep themselves, props and scenery out of sight for the yearly Christmas play and any other production they did. Our family went to the Christmas programs and enjoyed it as much as anybody. The programs' end brought squealing with all the clapping as that’s when Santa showed up with bags of  peanuts, candy canes, oranges and pencils for all the kids, 8^th graders, 1^st graders and all in between. Mom bought huge bags of peanuts and it was my job at home to carefully measure the cups of peanuts into each bag. Carelessness was sure to cause a problem. Programs were always big social events at rural schools and the small buildings were packed. Proud parents crammed into those desks, sat on the recitation chairs or stood to watch those programs in a stifling schoolroom on a cold December evening.

Years later when I had my own classroom, I realized it was no small wonder that desks I thought were so cool in Mom's school didn’t seriously injure the occupants. The seats had the writing surface attached to the right elbow, ensuring a real problem for lefties. Under the seat was a storage drawer that could be pulled out by leaning over the left arm of the seat. With the drawer full of textbooks and all the weight going left, desks easily tipped over, bringing uproarious laughter, embarrassment and sometimes a whack on the head.

Mom eventually taught closer to home and was on a village faculty when I graduated from college. I’d done some of my student teaching in that school and knew the faculty and many of the families. When the principal offered me a job, I jumped at the opportunity. I didn’t even have to go through an application process.  It wasn’t going to be teaching one grade though. Jt. District #4 had joined the village system and Grades 6, 7 and 8 were transported. The other five grades remained in the former district school because the village building lacked space for another 30 kids. Teaching in that school - seven miles from home - was the best job I ever had.  Hardworking, cheerful kids surely got their personalities from their folks, most of whom were farmers, some of which also “worked out.” Teaching five grades was challenging, but surely some of the most fun I ever had in the classroom with kids I could never, ever forget.

My goal had been to major in history and English and minor in music, however it was financially advantageous to enter a nearby college so I could live at home and continue a part time job. When I transferred I was hooked on reading and phonics while being scoffed at by friends who went on to physics, chemistry and math. It was because of people like me that those physics and chemistry teachers had students who could read the text books! My kids learned a lot of U.S. history, I read Shakespeare written for children and they learned the patriotic songs of George M. Cohen along with Smoky the Bear and all the little ditties we made up to go with diphthongs, digraphs, plain old "short A" and more. It was the best of both worlds.

Each day was an adventure bringing story after story to the family dinner table. Mom told me to capture the moments in my plan book. She said there would be so many I’d forget, but I never did. Fifty years later I am still laughing.

The kids in the best little schoolhouse anywhere!

One boy’s favorite song was The Little Brown Church by the Plywood, known by others as The Little Brown Church in the Wildwood. Whoever heard of “the wildwood?” His dad and about one thousand others worked at the Plywood. One kid thought he was good at mountain climbing but not goezinta. Some would call it multiplying and dividing, as in 7 goes into 14 to equal 2. He and his brother were nature lovers who took joy in spiders and everything else. The joy he took in a close up look at a skunk kept him out of school for a few days. “Slow as molasses” described another kid who was really perfection personified. Working slowly and methodically, he never made an error on anything in the two years I knew him. He wanted to help with classroom tasks that he rarely finished, however everybody knew what he did because it was perfect. I have yet to meet another who never made a mistake in an assignmentn or anything else. A neat kid who never lorded it over anybody.

Social studies had the requisite community helpers’ curriculum but the hamlet’s only service providers were  the doctor, the cattle breeder and bar keeper. Another making an impact on their lives was the bulk tank gas delivery man. Curriculum called for pictures compiled into a stapled book. One child scribbled his 11 x 17” paper totally green with a red dot in the center, surely not an acceptable picture, so I asked about it. He told me it was the Cities Service man. Restraining myself was not easy. Then I asked about the red dot and  was told it was an embarrassed Cities Service man. I fled to the hall in a flash, just cracking up. The bulk man with his ruddy complexion  who always wore his green Cities Service regulation uniform was my boyfriend’s dad, but the kids didn’t know that. The little girls must have been trying to marry me off though. Periodically some man would stop with books or for some other reason. If a man drove up when the kids were outside, the girls were sure to run in to tell me there was a cute man outside and wouldn't I like to put on lipstick and comb my hair!

Most of the kids played baseball during any recess when there wasn’t snow. When I played,which was often, I was the catcher and the ref. After so much complaining about my calls, I painted 2^nd base orange. Winter brought ice to a small pond in a neighboring field. Somebody built a stile so it would be easy for the kids to get over and skate. That wouldn’t happen today. Neither would catching frogs in the creek in the ditch that ran along the schoolyard property. The boys wanted to fry frog legs. My city up-bringing didn’t include that, and they told me they’d take care of everything if I’d bring a pound of butter.  In today’s world intermediate boys – nor anybody else – would ever be allowed to catch frogs, clean them and freeze the legs in the school freezer until there were enough for the class. School had a hotplate and that’s how those delicious legs were fried. 

Weekly Reader was the big thing for current news.  Just after a telephone was installed in school, the issue had telephones in barns. A discussion question centered on the need for such phones as cows surely didn’t talk. When the consensus was that it might be necessary to call the breeder, it was another case of the teacher running into the hall, not being able to constrain herself.

Thursdays was baking day and my stomach was growling by 10 AM. After school, two moms always sent over the world’s best kolaches and other scrumptious baked goods. How families could be so trim eating all that good food might be a puzzle today, but everything made chemically-free from scratch with fresh ingredients is now pretty much unknown.

Each of those 30 kids was physically attractive. One of the taller, always-smiling boys slicked his hair with the popular hair tonic of the day and at 7 years old was known as the Two-Dab Man. He never changed and when he died a few years ago, the church was packed beyond capacity. From what I know, each those kids went on to excel in their fields whether it be in roofing, construction, farming, working with the handicapped and elderly, in social work, teaching, writing a Civil War history and parenting. As their families before, they gave to God and community. Ironically, in my city district, I worked with some of them whose own children were in school, and  then worked with others who had mine. We had fun with identical twins who couldn’t recognize themselves in pictures. Each year one comes to town for an appointment, and that means a few precious hours spent over breakfast while way back in time.

As rural schools began consolidating, the one room schools came to an end. Our attendance center closed and the kids were transported to the village. I had saved enough money and planned to pursue further education. Mom got some of my kids so for a couple of years, they had two teachers with the same name, but one named Miss and the other Mrs. I always loved teaching and in all the years, wherever I was, I had the best kids ever. But, I’ll never forget the first two years at Lincoln Jt. District #4. It was more fun than the proverbial barrel of monkeys. Besides that, we had indoor flush toilets,  a janitor and 30 kids who missed their calling in comedy!

International Clothesline Week

Just in case you missed it, this is International Clothesline Week. It celebrates a free and easy way to dry clothes naturally, right in our own backyards. Clothesline protocol however has mostly passed out of existence and that might be a good thing. A mere 50 years ago neighbors knew a lot about one another and judged each other by the way the wash was presented. More than likely there were women better known for their manner of hanging clothes than their inability to cook. Unless it was a church potluck with cooking on display, the wash was much more “out there.” Extra sheets and towels meant the family had overnight company - but who was it? - whereas diapers announced the new baby faster than the grapevine. If anybody spotted a black bra.....that news traveled even faster. What would a body think about the goings-on in that house!

Monday was wash day. Anybody who didn't know that was pretty dense. Washing any other day meant that it better be hung in the basement or around the dining room so nobody knew what else was going on in that house. If sheets and pajamas were out during the week, neighbors would know someone was sick and come with chicken soup or a covered dish. How on earth could something so embarrassing such as washing clothes on the wrong day be explained?

Everybody knew that the whites were washed first, and that meant the lines had to be wiped off before the sheets and towels were hung. A dark line imprinted across dried items pointed to a woman cutting corners, or perhaps the teen-aged daughter who was sloughing off. Work clothes and overalls came last when the water was well used and wouldn't bleed the darker colors. Any woman who hung the dark wash first could have heard that news if she had time to pick up the party line.

Algoma Record 4/28/1911

Clothes were always hung by color, never haphazardly. Sheets were always on the outer lines thus guarding the unmentionables, though it was hard to understand why Grandpa’s woolen long johns were visible. He wore those woolen things winter and summer. They kept him warm in winter and he said they soaked up sweat in summer and kept him cool. Kids who ran around in shorts and sun tops never believed it.  For some reason long johns weren’t as unmentionable as other underwear, but perhaps by the 1950s, it was only the old coots who knew much about the things often called "union suits."

It was enough to hang the wash. Period. Grandmas and moms had other ideas. After all, a job not done well wasn’t worth doing and there was order in washing clothes, just as the picture frames were dusted before the furniture which was dusted before the floors were swept or vacuumed. Shirts and blouses were hung from the bottom at the side seams.  Hanging each piece of clothing individually was visually distracting, and ours – and all the aunts – attached one article to the next for a unified look. That didn’t work for socks which were hung by the toes,  or for  pants that were hung from the cuffs after the inseam was matched to the outer seam. Three handkerchiefs were hung together from a corner. In some wash line economy, the handkerchiefs hung in the little spaces left at the end of each line.

Most often clothespins were held in a little cloth bags which could be attached to the lines where they were easy to get and easy to put away. Some kept the clothespins in the wash basket but that meant more bending while trying to find the pins in all those pieces of clothing. Those with spring-latch clothespins often left them right on the line where they got rained on and dirty. That certainly saved a little work, but it was best to take an extra few minutes than provide fodder for somebody’s  table discussion at dinner, which was at 12 noon when every good house wife knew enough to have that wash off the line and ready for Tuesday’s ironing. Dryers relieved more stress than today’s anti-anxiety drugs!

Protocols differed throughout the country and, of course, women had to make do with what they had. Our pioneer ancestors spread wet clothing on bushes or lines that were strung from tree to tree and then taken down when the wash was dry. Lines sagging with the weight of sheets and work clothes were held up with clothesline poles placed in the middle of each line. Today, neighborhood covenants often prohibit clotheslines and outdoor drying, or allow retractable lines only. In a society where "green" is "in" and solar power is big, clotheslines are not.

Who knows? In years to come, National Clothesline Week could be a real celebration!

Sources: The ad is from Algoma Record and the photos and memories are the blogger's own. It was a Party-Line mention by WDOR radio host Eddy Allen that made me wonder if International Clothesline Week was for real. A simple Google search told me that it was indeed.