Saturday, August 24, 2019

Algoma: A Cross-Buring and the Ku Klux Klan


Hate is nothing new. It’s been around since Cain and Abel. Thousands of years after that, generations of Algoma school history classes learned about the Ku Klux Klan. There were those who thought Gone with the Wind told it like it was, although, little did they know that the Klan, in another era, operated in Wisconsin, or that it touched Kewaunee County. The 1920s’ Klan in Wisconsin was focused differently than it was in in the South in 1866, however.

Wisconsin Historical Society tells us the KKK had its start in 1866, the year following General Robert E. Lee’s surrender to General U.S. Grant at Appomattox and the end of the Civil War. It was Confederate veterans who originated the Klan as a means to resist Reconstruction. Civil Rights laws of 1871 were thought to destroy the Klan, but the laws did not, and about 50 years later, in the 1920s, the Ku Klux Klan was alive and well in northern states. Indiana was a hotbed of activity, and Michigan was not far behind. It gained a toehold in Wisconsin but within ten years, the Klan disappeared within the Badger State, until by 2004 a few chapters were back.

There was , however, such earlier activity in Kewaunee County but incidents such as one appearing in a February 1894 Enterprise when a group of seven men – disguised by their white caps – went into a Carlton home when its young farmer was alone. The man was severely flogged by those who accused him treating his wife poorly, neglecting his animals and being a “nuisance.” The perpetrators undressed the man, bound his hands and feet, laid him on the bed and began lashing him with blows that cut his flesh. 

By 1915 another group had formed and, after World War l, it preyed on fears of radicalism and disloyalty. The society saw itself protecting American values, and those seen as thwarting such values were Catholics, Jews, Free-Thinkers, African Americans and some immigrants. Estimates during the 1920s are that Wisconsin had about 15,000 Klan members.

Before the Klan came into existence, the Know-Nothing political party was the xenophobic, anti-Catholic group in the U.S. That too faded when James Buchanan won the presidency over Millard Fillmore, although Fillmore was elected years later. As the Know-Nothings did, the 1920s-era Klan membership identified with Protestantism in both metropolitan and rural areas.

The re-emergence of the Klan in 1915 caught on in Northeast Wisconsin, seemingly through moving pictures, a technological feat still in its infancy. The January 14, 1916 Union Farmer Herald of Oconto County told readership that Birth of the Nation was returning to Green Bay’s Grand Theater the following week. The paper told about the “sensation and daring work” of the Klan and that the second part of the production created such a stir and weighed heavily into conversations later. The article promised insights into the “scarlet secret organization."

Later that year, in May, the Record Herald reported that hundreds of Kewaunee County residents attended The Birth of a Nation, billed at the Majestic Theater as the “nation’s greatest historical photo play.” The production played there twice after first playing for two days at Kewaunee’s Bohemian Opera House. According to the paper, the big feature was the reconstruction period in the South. The paper said it was the story of the over-bearing attitude of the “ignorant, brutal Negros toward the white population in the days when northern carpetbaggers attempted to make the black the equal socially of the white.” The paper goes on to say that it is the true story of a section of history little known.

The play attracted attention. It was no easy feat in 1916 to travel from Sturgeon Bay to Kewaunee to see the play but, according to the Advocate, the Messers. Minor, Barnhardt, Westerman, Miller and Washburn did just that.

This blogger’s aunt graduated at the top of her high school class at a time when part of the senior year included teacher training for good students who wished to teach in rural schools. The rural school board that engaged Agnes knew she was Catholic when she was hired. Ninety years later, there are those living in the Thorpe-Stanley area who’ve heard stories of crosses burning. One was burned when the news of Agnes’ hiring became public. She resigned immediately, eventually going to Milwaukee where she found employment in a department store.

A friend, whose father was mayor of Kaukauna around the same time, frequently shared his dad’s stories about the Klansman who lived down the street from their Catholic family. Stories focused on Protestant businessmen who were taken to task, by the Klan, for unethical behavior, an affair or any other non-exemplary behavior. While the Klan was linking crime with immigrants who were often Catholic, they did not discipline unethical Catholic businessmen whose behavior was less than stellar. The feeling was that Catholics were among the lower classes from which poor social behavior was expected.

As early as 1884, Kewaunee Enterprise told readership that the Klan was a pleasure group of ten or so men who got together occasionally for an evening of harmless fun. County folks knew otherwise by 1924 when news affected them. Others on both sides of the bay of Green Bay were learning the same things.

Oconto County Reporter Enterprise commented on a mid-January 1923 talk about the Klan given at St. Mark’s Guild Hall by Bishop Weller of Fond du Lac. The Bishop, who was born in the South, told the large crowd about the Klan’s beginnings while even pointing out that some of its outrages were to a degree justified. He went on to say while the Klan did not exist as it once did, the 1915 re-establishment of the secret organization was not justifiable as its principles did not exemplify Americanism. The Bishop said the organization attempted to take the law into its own hands while it promoted racial prejudice against foreign born members of the Catholic Church and those who were Jewish.

The April 17, 1923 Advocate said Sturgeon Bay buildings shook when the Klan burned a cross on Dunlap Reef. The Advocate thought the reef was an unusual place for the burning, but it did attract attention. If folks didn't see the burning cross, they felt  heavy charges of dynamite or other explosives on the streets and in their homes and businesses.

In June 1923, the Advocate reported that Wisconsin was one of the first states to deal with the Klan. Gov. John J. Blaine signed the Price Bill which dealt with punishment of those found guilty of committing a crime while masked. Previous laws dealt with wearing mask only under certain circumstance. The new law meant that if one was masked during a misdemeanor, the penalty would be increased one year over that for a crime over a non-masked person. If a masked person committed a felony while masked, the Price Bill provided for an additional five years in the penitentiary. The new bill did not seem to affect the cross burnings though.

Interestingly, an Oconto November 1924 paper noted residents weren’t bothered by the burning crosses if they didn’t create unnecessary fire hazards. The paper told about a burning near Holt Lumber Yards, about 600’ from the Armory which was jammed with people. The area was filled with dried weeds and grass, with slabs and other combustible material near, prompting the fire chief to say that the burning endangered lives and property of many residents. The chief continued saying trouble would follow future Klan activity and that before it “set out to reform the community, it might well exercise a little common sense.”

Several Kewaunee residents were attracted to the burning of a large cross as they were returning from Sturgeon Bay in 1924. The 8’ to 10’ cross burned on the hill near the Sawyer (Sturgeon Bay’s west side) schoolhouse (now the vacant West Side School). The Kewaunee folks reported that the cross, which had been soaked in burlap and rags saturated with kerosene, was plainly seen in the surrounding community. It was the second cross burned in Sturgeon Bay within two weeks. The incidents were not isolated as both Manitowoc and Two Rivers had cross burnings within the same few weeks.

Just a short time later, the Record Herald carried an article reported from Algoma residents who had attended a Klan meeting at Martin Park in Sturgeon Bay. They said the park was filled with so many people that hearing the speaker was nearly impossible. Folks had been invited to “come hear the truth” about the organization. No attempt was made to prevent the meeting.

One hundred years ago, few had high school educations and a great many, especially in rural areas, did not finish the 8th grade. Until the advent of Rural Free Delivery, rural communities had little access to newspapers. There was skepticism, so when the August 8, 1924 Advocate reported a cross burning at the intersection of State and Union Streets in Sawyer, the paper questioned whether the 6’ fiery cross was a Klan celebration or a kid prank. The remains of the smoldering cross were there in the morning. That happened two months before October 1924 when the Ku Klux Klan announced it was organizing in Wisconsin.

Its purpose, the organization said, was to make virtue and piety paramount, but that it had no quarrel with Catholics, Jews or Negros.  An Algoma Record Herald editorial was ahead of its time when it opined saying, “the heretic hunt” was on and that the group wanted to make all what was considered “holy and pious.” The paper went on to say that the cause would enlist many because American was fertile soil for hate and that “No sooner is one bogey hatred laid away that a new one more virulent, more vicious, springs up.” The paper noted the placard in an Indiana store. It said, “I am 300% American; I hate everybody.”

Kewaunee’s Dr. L.E. Dockery spoke about the Klan while speaking in Algoma and discussing the anti-Catholic organizations in April 1925. He told his audience that the birth of the Klan was an accident, its growth was comic and its death was a tragedy. He said within two years of its founding, it met its goal with its “absurd hocus-pocus rites  against tyrannical and corrupt renegade Blacks and carpetbaggers” but by 1925 Catholics were targeted. Six months later the Advocate carried an article about former Sturgeon Bay Methodist Pastor Daniel Woodward who was then in Kaukauna and endorsed as a gubernatorial candidate by the Klan.

Then came the unthinkable in Algoma. About 11:00 that October 1925 night, a cross was burned on 4th Street, about 75’ south of its intersection with Fremont, near the Normal School. Across the street were the German M.E. Church and the English Methodist Church. The site was an odd place for a burning cross, and very little information found its way into the paper.

Activity on the peninsula continued into the fall of 1926 when Pfiel’s Hall in Baileys Harbor held meetings on a Monday and Tuesday in November. The Klan held meetings in Ellison Bay for the next two days. A month later, in mid-November 1926, the Advocate informed residents that Governor Blaine had pardoned five men convicted in Marinette for inciting a riot at a Ku Klux Klan meeting the preceding June. As the paper reported, all five were convicted by a jury “which broke Marinette County records for length of deliberation. Jurors wrangled over evidence seventy-six hours.”

Then came 1937 when Hugo Black was nominated for Supreme Court and it was learned he’d been a Klan member. Back admitted his membership in an October 1, 1938 radio address, but he also said he had left the organization. Three days later he took his seat on the Court.

After Black’s confirmation, Wisconsin Senator Francis Duffy was in Europe, appearing at an American Legion French monument dedication. In his speech, Duffy spoke of the advantages of being born in America, saying that so often when people get something for nothing, they don’t appreciate it. He went on to say, “The opportunities of this country which has real freedom has brought out the best in these (immigrant) nationalities” who came to America.

In a message to Congress on December 1, 1862, Abraham Lincoln said, “We cannot escape history.” Just about 100 years later, former First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt wrote, in her book Tomorrow is Now, "We make our own history."

Sources: Ahnapee Record/Algoma Record Herald; Door County Advocate;  Kewaunee Enterprise; Oconto County Reporter:Union Farmer Herald of Oconto County; Wisconsin Historical Society website.

Graphics are from Door County Advocate.