The Day the Circus Set Up in Grandpa's Hay Field

A few generations ago there were 10 year old boys whose ambition it was to run away and join the circus. Mothers probably thought they were living in their own three-ring circus with those kids, but the mothers, just as the boys, found a sense of awe when circus came to town. The big-top, the elephants, the trapeze artists, bare-back riders, the tantalizing smells of roasted peanuts and cotton candy…..Could anyone stay away?

Most of Algoma was under the big-top when the Kelly-Miller Brothers’ circus played on Grandpa’s farm field. Today it is hard to believe that America’s second largest circus would appear in a community as small as Algoma. But, it was August 1948 and things were a little different. Besides that, the circus needed a place to stop to water and feed the animals. Algoma was convenient. Tents that were set up in the field that is now the home of the Piggly-Wiggly and Subway were the scene of an afternoon show, however the circus welcomed residents as early as 9 AM to watch the feeding.

1948

Kelly-Miller’s caravan included 35 double-length cars of equipment, 200 animals, 450 people and 9 acres of tents. The circus brought a hippopotamus and what was billed as a “herd of giraffes.”  It was noted that the giraffes were the first ever to appear in Kewaunee County and that few circuses traveled with them. The hippo was no doubt a first as well. The second largest herd of elephants in the U.S. remains etched in memory of those in attendance that day.

When Dad and I walked over early that Sunday morning, the elephants were already put to work raising the big-top. The memory of the elephants’ trunks curled around those huge tent poles lives on, as it does with the now-adult-neighbor-kids. The farm was along the lake and a wonderful place for cool breezes on a hot day. The lake offered a good place for a cool dip or perhaps a bath too for the sweaty circus workers on that hot day.  Grandpa’s cottages were rented and parents were frightened when those of strange ethnicities were running up and down the beach, basking in joy on beautiful Lake Michigan shore. It didn’t take long to know there was nothing to fear. People are people and those people had the most exciting jobs on earth. To a kid, at least.

With so many acts in all three rings in the big-top, it was impossible to watch everything at once. Was the man really lifted high above the crowd by his teeth? How could one stand up to ride a horse? Did you jump when the ringmaster cracked his whip? Did your parents buy you  some peanuts or cotton candy? Did you see it when that elephant did his business right in the tent? Did your mother yell when you were about to stick your finger in the lion’s cage? If you could be in that parade, what would you be?

The smaller tents had other remarkable shows including a magic show. The magician using a drop knife that split carrots asked for a volunteer brave enough to put his or her arm under the knife. Who was so brave? It turned out to be Peter Kashik who was a 4^th grader in our school. Perhaps he volunteered himself or perhaps he was given a push, but our hearts stopped. Peter’s arm was going to be cut off. The magician raised the bar. Kids who couldn’t bear to watch heard the slam. Peter wasn’t bleeding and crying, he was smiling. He had an arm! What happened? How did we ever get so lucky to have a circus right there in Grandpa’s field? The stop that refreshed the animals refreshed all of us.

Kelly-Miller was Algoma’s first circus stop in 17 years. Circuses played in the city over the years and there were indeed 10 year old boys who wanted to join the circus and did! One was the popular Andy McDonald, Ahnapee’s showman.  McDonald, who managed the Ahnapee Theatre, advanced stagecoach reservations for those planning to attend Barnum's Great Show during the summer of 1871. In March, McDonald left town to become assistant manager of Barnum and Costello's Great Combination Show. Although the circus was known to stop in Ahnapee, Barnum's  big-top did never did.

Algoma had another association with the circus, Ringling Bros., Barnum and Bailey. That was Herman Ashby whose stage name was George Wilson. Herman was the 2^nd of four children born in Ahnapee to Joel and Minnie Haucke Ashby. How he ever got to the circus is obscure but his super human strength is what provided his livelihood. At 4’ 10 ½”, Herman was another Atlas. The Advocate called him a “midget Sampson” when he put on a show in 1908. Some said the strength of his jaw and teeth were so extraordinary that he could bite a nail in half and hang on a high wire holding on only with his teeth. An 1899 Advocate reported on residents who saw Herman’s act in Chicago where he was billed as “the man with the iron jaw.” His muscular development was showcased in wrestling and weight lifting shows. Most astounding was that Herman only weighed 126 pounds at age 30. Herman’s wife Lizzie was an equestrian, riding bare-backed. She could also play guitar, and did. Whether she was one of the singers who augmented Herman’s program is unknown. Herman was raised in Sturgeon Bay and appeared on stage at a young age. He served as the advance man for the Bamboo Queen show troupe that regularly played in Sturgeon Bay.

After Lizzie died an early death. Herman’s sister and husband raised their only child. It was then that Herman left his touring performance life to spend more time in Sturgeon Bay where he organized a vaudeville troupe of eight, known as the Ashby Combine. Sturgeon Bay residents Emily Friend, Millie Colu and Clyde Stoneman joined Chicago professionals in Ashby's show. According to a 1906 Democrat, Ashby offered high-class vaudeville and circus acts that he planned to take on the road after the August 16^th Sturgeon Bay opening. The Advocate reported that Ashby’s show was one of the best of the season with his talented performers. It said prices were popular and that Ashby “spared no pains” to offer the best and, because he was a city resident, he deserved support.

1917

When the circuses such as Lemen Bros. did not meet expectations, the papers let the public know. Presenting shows at both Sturgeon Bay and Kewaunee in 1899, the Advocate told readership how disappointed attendees were. The “show was rank” and worse than some of the smaller shows on the road. Furthermore the crowd following it was made up of swindlers and robbers who used shell games and slot machines to separate “easy marks” from their money. That circus got what was due after it performed in Seymour where it left town in a “shower of eggs.”

Owned by Wisconsin Historical Society, Circus World at Baraboo is a Wisconsin treasure. Highlighting the history of the circus and the Ringling Bros. Circus itself, it offers a glimpse into the life of those such as locals Andy McDonald, Herman Ashby and into the memories of all those Algoma senior citizens who remember giraffes, a hippo, elephants, tents and clowns on the Sunday the circus came to Algoma and set up on Grandpa’s farm.

The Kelly-Miller Circus is in business and can be found by Googling,

Sources: Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record, Algoma Record Herald, Door County Advocate, The Democrat and family history.

From Normandy to Kewaunee: The Tug Ludington

Tug Ludington

When a man took a job during the Depression, what he expected to make was money, not history. And so it was with 23 year old Norman. Coming from a line of commercial fishermen, at 20 years old he had spent nearly that many years on the lake and bay, knowing the waters as well as anybody. Fifty years later he was still agile enough to jump on the roof of the wheelhouse of his own boat so he could turn the wheel with his big toe as he was setting the main. In between was when he served as captain of the tug that made history.

Norman was fortunate in 1932 when he got a job with the U.S. Corps of Engineers.He began shoveling coal, a menial job for an experienced seaman, but it meant a paycheck during the Great Depression. Fortune also smiled on him when, because of the Corps, he met his bride-to-be. On the water and away from home most of the time, he rose through the ranks, retiring in 1965 as Master, or Captain, of the sea-going Tug Ludington, pride of the Corps, and a vessel, with its complement, that was instrumental in the harbor building and reconstructions up and down Lake Michigan and in other Great Lakes’ ports as well. He was there from the tug’s beginning in 1946 when he and a few others were sent to Charleston to bring the World War ll vessel to Kewaunee.

Built at Jacobson Shipyard in Oyster Bay, New York, the 115’ tug was fourth in a series of eight sea-going tugs constructed during World War ll specifically for the war effort. Completed in October, the keel for the $369,400 vessel was laid in February 1943. After passing sea trials, the tug was accepted and christened Major William F. Browder by the U.S. Army which designated the tug LT-4. Up to then, privately owned tugs were being commissioned and converted for wartime use. The new tug’s armament consisted of two 50 caliber machine guns mounted above the chart room and pilot house. The guns don’t sound like much but the fire power was mainly for protection from airplanes. Tugs were often strafed by enemy planes and threatened by submarines, however the tugs were too small a target to waste a torpedo on. In early 1944, the ocean-going tug and two sister ships were taken to Southampton, England to participate in D-Day, towing ammunition barges across the English Channel. Having seen service the tug at Normandy and more, the tug now known as the Ludington surely has stories to tell. Ironically, Kewaunee County men were at Normandy and other wartime places where the tug was served, but years later, most would never know the vessel in Kewaunee’s harbor had anything to do with them.

Great Britain, Cargo light, 1938

After D-Day the tug went to Cherbourg, France to assist in harbor operations before going back to Plymouth until the wars end when it was returned to Norfolk, Virginia for assignments on the Eastern Seaboard. In October 1946, a cadre consisting of Norman, Loren Vandenberg, Alton Roubal, Virgil Michaels, Kenneth Olson and Joseph Kusbasiewicz picked up the tug in Charleston, most likely at the Charleston Navy Yard in the Cooper River, not far up-river from Fort Sumter. The men brought the tug up the Atlantic coast, into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, into the St. Lawrence River, through the Great Lakes and finally, after 35 days, to Kewaunee where it would replace the Corps' 48 year old Tug Cumberland. The direct drive diesel Tug Browder was the first of its LTV class to be transferred for service in Lake Michigan. As many of the other tugs, it was named after a Great Lakes’ port city and called the Ludington. Operating out of Kewaunee, the tug had a storied 40-year history in the construction and maintenance of harbors and breakwaters on the Great Lakes. Norman was there for its first 20 years.

In March 1947, a few months after getting the tug to Kewaunee, the men returned to work (following a winter hiatus) to ready the Dredge Kewaunee for April’s work in the city’s harbor. After that it was on to other Lake Michigan ports, ending the season in Menominee, Michigan. The dredge was joined by a new tug, the Two Rivers, which was being fitted out for towing and working with the dredge. At the time Norman was serving on the Two Rivers as Capt. Palmer LaPlante’s first mate. Harvey E. Conroy, who would retire in February 1950, was named captain of the Ludington. Conroy had been with the Corps for 36 years, having been a crewman on the Cumberland when he was promoted to first mate. His captaincy followed the retirement of Capt. Algie Alexander. When the Cumberland was retired, Capt. Conroy was assigned to the Ludington and was succeeded by Capt. Norman Johnson.

Ludington & Dredge Haines

April 1950 saw the Dredge Kewaunee moved from its winter quarters to begin the annual dredging of Kewaunee harbor. After that it left for South Haven, Michigan, joining the Barge Milwaukee which was carrying the construction materials. The Ludington and the rest of the construction fleet was on its way. And so it continued for the remainder of the Ludington’s life.

In a day without Smart phones and email, the crew and their family members depended on mail or long distance phone calls, something few used without a dire emergency. Radio station WKOW's “Breakfast Party” was new in 1951. The program offered women whose husbands were aboard lake vessels a chance to be interviewed and then allowed to call and say a few words to their loved ones. Two such people were Mrs. Drew Hickey and her daughter Darlene who got to call Mr. Hickey aboard the Ludington which was in Milwaukee. During the same program Mrs. Edward Velequette connected with her husband who was in Canadian waters on a Roen vessel. Conversations were not private, but it was thrilling to “talk over the radio.”

Wives and parents were often unsure where their husbands and sons were. In some ways the tug personnel often had little information themselves. At times there would be a change of orders with a two-hour notice to, for instance, leave Escanaba and head for Grand Haven. Men who thought they’d get home could easily have found themselves bound for Cleveland.

Harbor work in Algoma

The men on the tugs worked together and lived together during their season. They also knew just about everyone else on Corps vessels. Correspondence came from any number of men who had served on the Ludington or elsewhere in the Corps. Harold Knutson left the tug in 1951 but he kept up with the news. William Weinert was returning to school in September 1951 when he left the Ludington in Milwaukee. Weinert missed the camaraderie when he wrote to thank the captain and crew for their kindnesses. In 1954 Vern wrote from Ashtabula, Ohio to let the captain know Mr. Loemer had come over from the Tug Wilson. Joe W. Davies was on the Dredge Paraiso of Roosevelt, NY when he wrote to let the captain know about the Seaway Project. Edward Oertal had served and in 1963 he sent a Christmas card from his warmer “digs” in Bonita, Florida.

When Capt. Johnson retired in December 1964, Lt. General W.K. Wilson, Chief of Engineers at the Washington Headquarters of the Army noted a career of more than 33 years in federal service with the Corps of Engineers in the Milwaukee and Chicago Districts. Coincidentally, Elton Roubal retired at the same time. Roubal was on the Charleston trip and retired as dredge operator on the Dredge Kewaunee. A few other of the men who’d served in the Kewaunee Corps retired within a few months of each other. Ed Hohne was a dredge operator on the repair crew. Frank Kacerowsky was a former dredge operator on the Kewaunee and Buck Hessel had served as Master of the Two Rivers. The men had served from between 33 and nearly 39 years.

Though the Ludington’s work life is over, the tug with the proud past remains in Kewaunee’s harbor. For much of the year, the tug is an in-water museum available to be toured for a nominal fee. Touring Lake Michigan’s harbor cities is to know that the Ludington was there. Chicago and Milwaukee’s impressive harbors saw the Ludington and its complement do the work that gave rise to those harbors today. The tug began its life witnessing the pain of World War ll. It ended its life witnessing successes in the Great Lakes' harbors. If that boat could only talk. From Normandy, France to Kewaunee, Wisconsin, what a history!

Sources: On Land and Sea, c. 1995; Johnson family letters dating to 1932,  family scrapbooks and photos; paintings from NLJohnson Art.