Kewaunee County History: Marking an Ahnapee New Year

 

This picture postcard was sent early in the 1900s

Harriet Warner Hall was a 9-year-old child when she arrived with her parents Orin and Jane Warner on July 4, 1851, to be the 3^rd resident family of the place called Wolf River. When Mrs. Hall was interviewed about the founding of the community years later, she discussed the homemade beer at the wedding of Amine Parker and George Fowles in 1857. She said when there was a fiddler around, there was a dance, and that meant homemade beer to whet the whistle.

Harriet told about the fledgling community’s first Christmas, one of wont and deprivation. She didn’t describe bringing in the new year, which became more important as the hamlet gained residents. The 1850s residents did not bring in the new year with champagne toasts, but as time went on, that changed.

When Kewaunee Enterprize* began publication in September 1859, among the first ads were those for Berni & Zimmermann’s new Ellis Street Brewery. Also on Ellis Street was Joseph Duchoslav who was also brewing lager beer. The Enterprize informed readership about ship arrivals and in just one month in Fall 1859 ship arrivals at Hills & Carter’s South Pier in Kewaunee included three trips by Capt. James Flood. Flood brought beer in three of his four trips: 12 kegs, 10 kegs, 4 kegs which is a lot of beer for a county with 5,300 residents when roughly 2,400 were under the age of 20. If county residents wanted to bring in the year raising a glass or two, there would have been no shortage. Ahnepee* was without a newspaper until June 1873. Capt. Flood was frequently mentioned and always a popular captain, who no doubt made Ahnepee with the same products he brought to Kewaunee.

The Ahnapee Brewery was operating when the newly organized Record had thoughts on “spirits” well before New Years, possibly because of the Temperance movement when it said what a “practical toper proposed.” And what is a toper? Simply put, according to the Wiktionary, a toper is a drunkard.

As a compromise to Temperance women, the Record reported that one who “topes” might say, “O, woman, in our hours of ease, you know we’ll do what ‘ere you please; we’ll promise to renounce the sin of Bourbon, brandy, rum and gin, and so far as to refrain (except when tempted) from champagne; but have some mercy, do my dear, and leave, oh, leave us lager beer.” Was the Record plugging its advertisers!

By the early 1870s, W.N. Perry was selling California wine and Kentucky whiskies at his drugstore. Sam Perry was advertising wine and liquor in any quantity and Weilep, Decker, Boedecker, Villers and Marsh applied for liquor licenses. H.M. Terens let it be known he “constantly” had liquor in his Alaska House.

During its first year of publication – 1873 - the Record said New Year’s passed off quietly in the city* with nothing important going on. Several churches had services but it was sleigh riding that the young indulged. It seems as if Perry sold some of that fine wine and whiskey because he ran an ad asking all who owed him more than 30 days to stop at his drugstore to pay their debt.

It seemed as if 1877 must have been a slow news New Year as the Record saw fit to report on the Memoirs of St. Simon who commented on the hair dressing of the women of Paris in 1713. That year, the Duke and Duchess of Shrewsbury came from London to have the Duchess say hair fashions were ridiculous. Parisian women were wearing brass wire edifices to hold up their hair over two feet. They adorned the “structure” with ribbons and what the Duchess thought was rubbish. Moving caused the edifice to tremble. King Louis XlV was disgusted with the hair, but even as King, he could do nothing to get rid of the fashion that lasted for 10 years.

As it was, 1877 was a year that set records. On January 3, the Record reported a balmy, spring-like new year with lilac buds turning green and even opening. Door County farmers were plowing, and Sever Anderson, in Clay Banks, sowed 4 bushels of spring wheat the day before Christmas. Cold toes and ears for New Year’s suggested weather was turning.

The Baptist Church planned a Dime Sociable which offered choice readings, singing, instrumental music. All proceeds were to go to reducing the church debts. That was happening when about 75 people surprised the Charles Fellows family at New Years. The group met at George Youngs’ residence and then “took the Fellows’ residence by storm.” The Record said some who had not taken part in such an event in 20 years were among those who turned out, and that Fellows would remember the evening forever. Fellows invited the throng to gather at his Foscoro home for New Years Eve 1878.

During those early years, county residents thought of more at the New Year than the raised glass. Whether folks went to Fellows’ Foscoro home in 1878 is debatable because typhoid was almost sweeping the county. Teacher Fannie Gregor and her sister were quite sick, as were Charles Deda and Dr. Martin. With Martin in bed and so much sickness, Dr. F. Simon of Manitowoc was called to Kewaunee to offer his assistance.

Typhoid was there in 1878, along with some scarlet fever when the weather changed after Christmas. Roads partially froze, although not hard enough to support teams in places. Some said New Year’s seemed like Sunday because businesses closed, and folks attended services at nearly every denomination. “Happy New Year” was heard all over and streets were filled with smiles even though residents were dealing with serious illnesses.

Tanner Michael Luckenbach ended 1878 marketing his house and lot at the corner of Navarino and 4^th Streets. Luckenbach felt his lot, with 80’ frontage on 4^th and 150’ on Navarino, was the best in the village. He planned to sell for $800 with $200 down and the balance on easy terms. Luckenbach sold his tannery to his partner, Mr. Meverden, and in December 1878 was proprietor of the East River House in Green Bay. Luckenbach didn’t get the tannery out of his system because his Green Bay hotel was opposite a large tannery. A small part of the original tannery business burned when Bearcat’s Fish House was destroyed in a 2021 fire.

With the news there was, one would not think the paper had to go looking for it. But it did, and reported on an unusual custom found in the Boston Transcript. Apparently Greeks, Romans, Persians, and Gauls saw eggs as renewal at both Easter and New Year’s. If those in Boston celebrated New Years with eggs, it was not noted, however such a custom never caught on in Ahnapee.

In 1879 the Record said the new year was received with feelings of dread as the old was remembered with regret, however it felt that the year was good to people. It went on to opine that if there was nothing to regret, there was nothing to hope for in the future. According to the Record, the beginning of the year is for making resolutions but later in the season was the time to break the slate. Nothing new there.

C.J. Barnes bought the Record in August 1879 from Hiram Wing who received a flattering offer from Jamestown, Dakota. Barnes thanked customers and asked them to continue the support. He felt the new decade would bring improvements to the lively, newsy paper and to the office, a resolution which would not be broken because it was a Leap Year, and “a little off.” Why a little off? Editor Barnes said 1880 was a year where “women propose and men dispose.” He continued to make a statement, saying it was “jubilant when we think how jolly it is going to be to say “no” as “It’s a long lane that no turn has.” The paper suggested each day should be an improvement on the past since lives are strengthened by experience.  Diphtheria raised its ugly head again and New Year’s Eve 1879 saw the C. Martin family of Carlton lose three children to diphtheria. They were kept together and buried in one grave. Just after that, two more of the Martin children died. It was said one school district had 20 children who died of diphtheria.

Light housekeeper Samuel Stone was living in Sandy Bay when he went to Manitowoc where he saw Dr. Cookley on December 30, 1879. Stone had surgery for a Rebel bullet to the leg in the Civil War 16 years earlier. Stone wanted Cookley to prob for the bullet which had pained him for so long. Cookley made an incision on the opposite side of the leg where he found a good-sized chunk of lead. Surgery was successful, and Stone said he felt like a different man.

The Record marked the end of 1879 by mentioning its large subscriber list, thanking subscribers and friends for sending in news items. The paper said it would be glad to have all subscribers pay up a year in advance and forward names of those who would be possible subscribers. The close of 1879 found the firm of Hitchcock & Kwapil dissolved by the retirement of Mr. Hitchcock. His part of the property in the Alaska store and pier was bought by Frank Shimmel and Joseph H. Janda who joined Frank Kwapil in the new company. That transaction made the company the largest business in the northern part of Kewaunee Co. as the firm had three stores in operation, the one in Ahnapee, one in Forestville and the new company at Alaska.

To round out the year, Simon Pies reminded folks to pay their City* of Ahnapee taxes which would be collected at his 4^th Street residence.

A watch meeting at the Methodist Episcopal Church on New Year’s Eve welcomed 1880. Residents also brought in the year at two balls, one at the Temple of Honor, given by William Dingman, and the other at the Wisconsin House. Both dances were said to “pass off merrily” into the small hours of the morning. The Record promised the day would linger in the minds of many with “thoughts of sweet and loving kindness” before passing into time. The same paper that offered a “Happy New Year” also said, “Pay your taxes.”

As the city grew, ads called attention to fine wines and oysters, which were popular at New Year’s. There were parties and dances for those who could get there if the roads had hard packed snow to allow the horses to get through. Harriet Warner Hall felt the pioneer days ended in about 1860. Although Ahnapee was greatly affected by the Civil War, there were marked changes in the 1860s and 1870s. Ahnapee was no backwater.

 

Notes: Renamed Algoma in 1897, its first name was Wolf River and derivations until 1859 when it was renamed Ahnepee (Ojibwa for “Where is the river?”) until the place was chartered as a village in 1873 when there was a change in the spelling. Since the state and others consistently spelled the place’s name with two a’s and two e’s, the village couldn’t “beat ‘em” so “joined ‘em.” In 1879 the Village of Ahnapee was chartered as the City of Ahnapee.

Kewaunee’s newspaper underwent a spelling change in 1865 when Enterprize became Enterprise.

Sources: Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record Herald; An-An-api-sebe” Where is the River”; Kewaunee Enterprize/Enterprise; https://en.wiktionary.org. The postcard is from the blogger's collection. Images can be found in the Kannerwurf, Sharpe, Johnson Collection at Algoma Public Library,

Kewaunee County History: An 1851 Wolf River Christmas

 

Manhattan Transfer’s “Christmas is a comin’ and the geese are getting fat……” is a popular take on a song arranged by Frank Luther and sung by Bing Crosby and others a generation ago. Even the Kingston Trio had a version. Youngsters recognize the music featured by John Denver in a Muppets’ special, in A Charlie Brown Christmas and more.

The founding residents of Wolf River – Ahnepee in 1859, Ahnapee in 1873, and Algoma in 1897 – no doubt wished they had geese, fat or not.

The Hughes and Tweedale families arrived in Wolf River at the end of June 1851. A few days later, on July 4^th, Orin Warner’s family became the third permanent family at the place. Orin and Jane Warner had three children, Harriet aged 9, and two boys, 7 and 3.

Being the first of the firsts was not easy. The three families had only themselves on whom to depend. It would be the following summer before Goodrich’s rickety old Citizen changed their lives when it dropped anchor in the lake, bringing supplies and people.

What was Christmas 1851 like? Years later, Harriet, then Mrs. Abraham Hall, remembered that first Christmas in an interview with the local paper, Ahnapee Record. There were no geese getting fat in that difficult winter of deprivation. Harriet mentioned the deer, ducks, fish, partridges and the partridge eggs they gathered, but Christmas dinner 1851 was a salt pork pie. Spring was a long way off and there were no eggs. Ducks and most birds had gone south. Deer were scarce, and thick river ice needed to be chopped to fish. More than likely, the salt pork pie was a feast that day. Laura Ingalls Wilder would later write that “Ma” got ready for Christmas by baking bread, crackers, pie, and cookies. Caroline Ingalls cooked salt pork too, but it was in the beans she made.

Had the Warners been in Waukegan where Jane’s parents, the Bennetts, lived, Christmas would have been far different. Over the years, Ahnapee’s Christmas celebration changed too.

If the Warner children received gifts, no doubt it was mittens or stockings that Jane had knitted, or possibly something that Orin got in Manitowoc on one of his trips walking down the lakeshore for supplies. If the small log homes were decorated, it was with green boughs adorned with pinecones, perhaps a ribbon or two, or maybe even strings of popcorn. Christmas trees would have taken far too much room in the log homes for years to come.

Twelve years later, Ahnapee (the name was respelled in 1873) had a new newspaper with merchants advertising wares for Christmas giving. Home-crafted gifts such as preserves, needlework and candies were popular while stores such as August Fromming’s on 4^th and Clark Street offered such things as confections, sachets, perfume, “Yankee notions,” sewing supplies, tobacco pouches, shaving soaps and slippers. William Perry’s Steele Street drugstore sold books and stationery. Logancrantz’s jewelry, at the northwest corner of 4^th and Steele, sold everything in silver – dishes, napkin rings, and cutlery. Mr. Logancrantz also pointed to his gold pens and holders, and all types of jewelry.

Ahnapee Record was in its infancy when it published its first Christmas edition. The editors, George Wing and Charles Borgman, reported seeing loads of evergreens on the street while churches smelled like pine and spruce. Parents were mysterious and children were expectant. Anthems and carols were joyful, sounding like angels singing. How much that Wolf River Christmas had changed in a mere 12 years! Even the community’s name changed twice in that time.

In that first edition, the paper wished readership “peace on earth and good will to men.” The paper talked of families gathering at the fireside while other who were gray thought of Christmas gatherings past. Some surely included Jane and Orin Warner’s family. Others were the Tweedale grandchildren. The Hughes family left the area around the time of the Civil War.

Sir Clement Moore penned A Visit from St. Nicholas on December 23, 1823. It caught on fast. Just over 25 years later, the paper echoed the poem, telling stories about the shoes and frocks that “old Santa” left in Ahnapee stockings.

On the 31^st, the paper said St. Mary’s services were of “an interesting nature.” The church Christmas tree was “illuminated by 110 burners for a beautiful emblem of Christmas teachings.” Young and old participated at St. Paul’s where a Christmas tree was beautifully laden with presents for the little children who had to wait patiently until the Lutheran school students sang and recited selections appropriate to Christmas Eve. Congregants at the German Methodist Church were said to have “enjoyed a season of rare pleasure.” Following devotionals, youngsters were enthusiastic about the books, toys and pretty items adorning the tree.

The Baptists did not observe Christmas Day with a service, however the next day was Sunday and the church – as the others in town – was filled to capacity. On the evening of the 26th, which was the Sabbath, Wilhelmshoe was the site of a grand ball. The only problem was that not enough tickets were sold to fund the grand prize which had to be postponed.

A few days later, the Masonic Lodge offered entertainment beginning with Maj. Joseph McCormick’s words on the tenets of Masonry and its relationship with Jesus Christ. Ahnapee Quadrille Band provided wonderful music after McCormick’s remarks, and a midnight supper ended a beautiful evening attended by many from Kewaunee, Foscoro, Forestville, Casco, Sturgeon Bay, Clay Banks, and even from Chicago.

Christmas celebrations differed over the years. The influx of Germans brought Christmas trees which turned into a business in December 1876. Each ethnic group brought its own customs and traditions, but it appears that salt pork pie was not one of them!

Sources: Ahnapee Record; An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River? Postcard is from the blogger's collection.

Kewaunee County History & Algoma's Secret Societies

 Transparency. The buzzword of the 2020s. But transparency doesn't exist and probably never will.

Secret societies sound so sinister, yet according to Ahnapee Record, the community had them. It wasn't just the small tow of Ahnapee. Such societies existed around the country and the county, even in neighboring communities such as Forestville, Casco, Kewaunee, Carlton and others. Some of the secretive groups were "anti-treating" - the groups which belonged to the anti-alcohol mpovements whose members pledged not to offer or accept drinks in saloons or other places where alcohol might be bought and sold. Some secret societies focused on mutual aid, but others were just plain secret.

The last of the 19^th century was the heyday of such societies, and charlatan leadership was often not far behind. Well before 1900, there was an uproar about secret societies that went as far as an Anti-Secret Society Convention. When the group had its 1869 meeting, attendees went after the secular press, saying even religious papers didn’t have the guts to come out for Christ. It kept on.

More recently Dan Brown’s DaVinci Code shined light on such societies. Once editor of the Daily Beast and Rolling Stone, Noah Shachtman wrote that some groups provided for “open dialogue about everything from academia to religious discourse, removed from the restrictive eye of church and state.” Shachtman further stated the societies were “incubators of democracy, modern science, and ecumenical religion.” Such groups elected leaders and drew up a constitution. He said George Washington, Ben Franklin and Voltaire were members of such groups, and “just like today’s networked radicals, much of their power was wrapped up” in anonymity.

Lisa Hix penned an article appearing in a 2016 Dallas Morning News (accessed online) about 19^th century secret societies selling life insurance within fraternal rituals. Modern Woodmen of America was one of the societies, and one found in Ahnapee/Algoma. Hix says Modern Woodmen “made life insurance approachable and fun by packaging it in the familiar order culture of the day.” She went on to say two Woodmen societies remained in existence although were no longer fraternal.

Until around the mid-1900s, Modern Woodmen restricted membership to white men from 18 to 45. At a time when Catholics and Jews saw discrimination, the Woodmen admitted the two faiths as well as all Protestants, atheists, and agnostics. In the beginning, the white males came from the healthiest states that included Wisconsin and its neighbors. The group was not open to those whose occupation was among the most dangerous such as miners and railroad workers, but even baseball players were thought to be in a dangerous profession. Those who joined the Woodmen were forced to acknowledge their own mortality, as did the Masons, a group in Ahnapee by 1869.

When Maynard T. Parker chronicled the short 22-year history of Wolf River/Ahnapee in the October 12, 1873 Record, he told readership The Grand Army of the Republic was the community’s second secret lodge, although it was disbanded within a short time. He pointed to the Masonic Lodge as the third secret lodge. Key Lodge #174 was established on June 8, 1869 and a week later Will Frisbie was its representative to a convention of the Grand Lodge of Wisconsin F & A.M. (Free and Accepted Masons) The first organized secret lodge must have been so secret that Parker never mentioned it, however in January 1874, the Record pointed to the organization of another new secret society in town, although its name and goals were not known. The organization was Lone Lodge No. 1 of the Knights of the Iron Band, which history says was formed in the winter of 1874.

By September 1877, Ahnapee had four societies listing their meeting nights in the weekly Record: the Key Lodge No 174 F & A Masons met in their hall on the corner of 3^rd and Clark, while the Sons of Herman met in their 2^nd Street hall. St. Joseph Society met in the home of P.M. Simon, the Temple of Honor No. 111 met in their 3^rd and Clark  Steet hall, and the YMCA met in the Baptist Church parlors. Knights of the Iron Band did not announce meeting nights.

That The Grand Army of the Republic (GAR) was secret is a surprise. Wikipedia says it was the largest of all Union Army veterans' groups and the "most single-issue political lobby of the late 19th century, securing massive pensions for veterans and helping to elect fice postwar presidents from its own ranks." For members, it was a secret fraternal group, a charitable group, a provider of entertainment and a patriotic organization.

The GAR seems far from a secret organization although in Secret Societies in America, author W.S. Harwood called attention to the military oath and said the military was “knit together by secret threads.” It would seem that military secrets are necessary.

Wolf River/Ahnapee’s early days were healthy. The population was young, and isolation kept it germ free. As the community grew, so did lumbering and sailing. Both were dangerous, and both took lives. Then came the Civil War with the death and disease. Risk of injury and death were always there in everyday life. If the husband died, who was there to provide for the wife and children? Nobody wanted to be on the “poor list,” though many were. Joining secret clubs such as the Freemasons and Odd Fellows, men found networking and entertainment. They also found help.

Major Joseph McCormick was a member of Ahnapee’s F & A Lodge when his horse threw his buggy injuring him in 1875. McCormick was 88 years old, in serious condition and unable to move. As a 33^rd degree Mason, McCormick was cared for by the Lodge. Googling tells us the thirty-third degree is an honorary award bestowed upon Scottish Rite Freemasons who have made major contributions to society or Freemasonry. McCormick certainly did. His story is chronicled in previous posts.

Following the Civil War, mutual benefit societies  popped up offering insurance. Ahnapee saw the Sons of Hermann/Herman and Knights of the Iron Band. Even as women and Blacks were excluded from such societies, between 1890 and 1930, up to 1/3 of American men belonged to at least one secret society.

Wikipedia says the Sons of Herman was a mutual aid society for German immigrants, formed in Ney York in July 1840. It remains active in some states today. While membership was restrictive in the early days, the society is open to all today, providing insurance and aid. Founded in New York in response to anti-German sentiment, the group historically preserved German traditions and language. The Sons were an offshoot of the Odd Fellows, however there were declines in Sons’ membership with the advent of World War 1, and again because of anti-German sentiment.

At one time the Catholic Church refused to bury members of the Sons because of rituals, but that disappeared. German Jews were members, and in Milwaukee, those of the Jewish faith held leadership positions, something that didn’t happen with every group. Mothers, wives, daughters and sisters were allowed in a female auxillary. It was in July 1985 when the national organization required all to purchase a life insurance policy.

The Sons of Herman organized in Forestville before founding the Sons of Herman Ahnapee Lodge #23 in September 1874 with twenty-seven members. John Weilep was elected president of Bismarck Lodge, No 23, O.D.H.S. (Der Orden der Hermanns-Soehne) when the Sons of Herman was organized in Ahnapee by an officer of an officer of the Grand Lodge of the State. Launched with fourteen charter members, the society flourished, they planned to meet at Weilep’s (now the Hotel Stebbins) until their new hall was ready. Though rejecting the “social glass,” Sons of Hermann was known to be a friendly organization and at its organization members learned the mysteries of the order such as “riding the goat,” which has several meanings, most associated with Masons.

Not long following the Lodge’s formation, Ahnapee’s Lutheran congregation passed a resolution. Feeling that because the German lodge was secret, it was unchristian, and, therefore, Ahnapee Lutherans felt lodge members should be excluded from church membership. However, it is unclear if any of the Sons lost their membership.

Catholics too dealt with secret societies. In May 1880, Ahnapee's Father Cipin wrote a letter to the Record  defending the church's St. Wenceslaus men's group which was joining the society of St. Louis, another Bohemian society. Cipin said St. Louis was neither a lodge nor secret society as identified by the paper a week earlier, but an open, public society. He said the Catholic church forbid secret societies and any Catholic who joined one would be excommunicated. Cipin said the Society of St. Louis was named Bohemian Catholic Central Association and was focused on mutual support.

On September 20, 1894, the Record listed officers for the new St. Francis Court #465, a subordinate of the Catholic Order of Foresters. Each member carried $1,000 in insurance and after six months would receive weekly benefits in the event of sickness or accident. The paper said the Foresters were the only "secret society, that is, the only society that makes use of a password, sign, grip, etc. connected with the Catholic church at present."

Almost two years later, in July 1896, Kewaunee Enterprise mentioned Archbishop Frederick Katzer, third bishop of the Green Bay Diocese, who was Archbishop of Milwaukee at the time. Katzer fought a proposition to introduce secret rituals into the Order of the Catholic Knights and went to Stevens Point to fight against the idea. If the Knights had elected to be a secret society, Archbishop Katzer would have withdrawn his support.

Iron Band Society, Lone Lodge #1, was founded in 1874 to propagate "anti-treating" ideas, paramount at the Monday meeting nights. Such leading citizens as Michael McDonald, John R. Doak, George W. Wing, Orange Conger, Simon Warner, John McDonald, Irving W. Elliot, Maynard Parker, Levi Parsons, George Bacon, and E.T. Tillapaugh were elected officers in December 1874.

A fire near the Ahnapee piers was one of the first big conflagrations to challenge the fledgling fire department. About 3 AM one night just before Christmas 1874, the Pier Company's store building at the foot of Steele was engulfed in flames. According to Editor William Seymour, though the fire department was efficient, the building was destroyed with property inside. G.W. Youngs, who used a portion of the building as an office, was able to remove the safe, books and other valuables. The Knights of the Iron Band, the secret society that met on the second floor, was not so lucky. The society lost all its property including a valuable English book printed in London during the early 1700s, other rare books, and geological and vegetable curiosities. The society had met the previous night and theirs was the only stove lit.

A few hundred dollars’ worth of tools and items, belonging to the government but stored there, were among the substantial loss. Insurance agent Peter Schiesser said there was an insurance policy of $1,000 although the building was worth about $2,000. It was said the fire would have been far worse for the village had the winds not been blowing from the southwest, so toward the lake.

The fire did little to dampen enthusiasm in the Knights of the Iron Band. Immediately following the fire Senior Grand Knight Michael McDonald announced future meetings would be he in the hall in J.R. McDonald’s building at the corner of 2^nd and Steele. The Knights eventually began meeting in Temple of Honor Hall, the site of the Knights’ entertainment on January 3, 1881, an evening of entertainment that included recitations, debate, speeches, instrumental and vocal music.

A few days earlier, on New Year’s Eve, the Lone Lodge members wore their regalia and emblems during a torch light parade. The paper said the order’s principles were universal, but mystery was “embodied in its organization.” It further aid that the society brought curiosity among the public. Curiosity was somewhat satisfied in April when the Record reported on a strange, mysterious installation – a solemn occasion - of Lone Lodge No 1 of Iron Band of the I Alone officers’ ceremony. Readership was informed that more excited residents witnessed  the event than any other secret society, partly because it appeared so strange to the populace. While outsiders felt it was mysterious, many believed it was a horrible, diabolical secret society.

The Record’s reporter found barely enough room in the area allotted to spectators. Describing the center of the remaining space with its catafalque draped in black and decorated with white, the reporter said it held the figure of a man in clay. He went on to say: “Clothed in the robe of the order, with hands folded upon his breast, his clear-cut marble-like features showed the body by the light of four tapers which were sustained by candelabrums (sic) of gold and silvered glass, stood upon the black drapery at each corner of the bier upon which his form rested.” High officers stood on an elevated platform behind the catafalque while two guards, “in gloomy robes,” walked back and forth armed with spear and battle ax. 

As members marched in, the Knight of the Ceremonies directed them to seats on either side of the hall. As they gave the Iron Band salutation, they sat facing the bier. Then the Knight escorted the Grand Senior Knight Commander to his station where he received the salutation of the Knights. 

It was most unusual when the Senior Knight placed his left hand on the cold forehead of the clay figure as he promised to be fair, fearless, and faithful in his governance of keeping true temperance, stressing that excess is dangerous, downgrading, and leads to suffering and misery. He pledged to maintain the order and not allow it to come into neglect. Receiving the badge of the order, the other officers came forward  to pledge a faithful performance before the Grand Senior Knight delivered an address. Exhorting officers to faithfulness, vigilance, and earnestness, the Grand Senior Knight warned them about the responsibilities they were assuming. 

The Senior Knight went on to discuss temperance, saying the concept of treating was not “sanctioned or sustained by the customs of any other nation except our own.” He said it was foolish to squander money on one who does not care to buy something they don’t want, such as a headache. While he thought it might be acceptable to have one glass of beer or spirits, to drown one’s sorrows was hoggish, beastly, and degrading.” He said members were forbidden from giving or accepting “treats,” thus drunkeness would cease.  As solemn and dark as the installation and address were, dancing followed the address.

The Record’s reporter told readership he couldn’t fully explain the society which was so closely connected with mysterious ceremonies. The black robes were sombre and their badges represented iron, silver, and golden degrees of the I Alone. The costumes represented Iron and Golden bands.

In June 1881, Lone Lodge No 1 of the I Alone cast a unanimous vote directing each member to go before a magistrate to make a complaint about any lodge member who had been expelled for violating the anti-treating law. The Lodge did not feel its members should have the duty of enforcing laws on any but its own members. When the Lodge said “temperance,” it meant it. Temperance in excessive drinking was required, and the Lodge felt “excessive” happened in saloons and that promoted drunkenness. Saloon owners were not in favor of the movement.

Temple of Honor had its beginning in the U.S. about 1845. The society had a secret ritual based on medieval Knights Templar, a fraternal group with signs, handshakes, and passwords resembling those of the Masons and Odd Fellows. Ahnapee’s Temple 111 organized in early March 1877  with – according to Ahnapee Record - 27 drinkers, about two-thirds of whom were called hard drinkers. To look at the list of those in leadership positions, Ahnapee’s leading citizens were among the fifteen officers selected and installed. Apparently, some considered themselves hard drinkers as many of the officers held leadership positions in the Iron Band Society formed a few years earlier.

Algoma Record Herald reported Anti-treating passed  Wisconsin’s legislature and was signed by the 14^th Governor of Wisconsin, William E. Smith in late March 1881. Any treating in that resulted in conviction was to be fined no less than $5 and no more than $10 for each offense.

Some thought it was one of the most ridiculous laws ever while others thought it was the most effective temperance law ever passed. It permitted a man to drink what he wanted if nobody else paid for it. The Record saw the new law as a law to be broken, but it hoped for enforcement. Those who pointed toward ridiculous were proven right.

Cato Institute, in  an article by Mark Thornton, Policy Analysis No. 157, July 17, 1991, explains why Prohibition was a miserable failure. When Prohibition passed in 1920, it was felt that law would result in better health and hygiene, reduce crime and corruption, and even the tax burden from prisons and poorhouses.

The Cato Institute’s significant research concluded that," Although consumption of alcohol fell at the beginning of Prohibition, it subsequently increased. Alcohol became more dangerous to consume, crime increased and became "organized," the court and prison systems were stretched to the breaking point, and corruption of public officials was rampant. No measurable gains were made in productivity or reduced absenteeism. Prohibition removed a significant source of tax revenue and greatly increased government spending. It led many drinkers to switch to opium, marajuana, patent medicines, cocaine, and other dangeroussubstances that they would have been unlikely to encounter in the absence of Prohibition."  

The number of Ahnapee saloons seem to indicate the village/city secret societies did not desire to bring an end to all alcohol, just buying a drink for another to consume. Total calls for abstinence came later. Prohibition came to an end in 1933, just as Wisconsin's anti-treating laws did years before.

The Depression and Social Security in 1935 ended much of the fraternal insurance since many wee unable to make their payments. As movies and radio came into existence, they supplied the entertainment once offered by the societies, many of which faded into society.

Sources: Ahnapee Record/Algoma Record Herald; An-An-api-sebe:Where is the River?; Cato Institute article by Mark Thornton, Policy Analysis No. 157, July 17, 1991; Commercial History of Algoma, WI Vol 1; Hix, Kisa, 2016 Dallas Morning News (accessed online); Lewis, Phil, History of Modern Woodmen an American Fraternity, 4/2021 (accessed online); https://www.history.com/news/secret-societies-freemasons-knights-templar; Wikipedia..

 

Kewaunee County History: Courting, Bundling, Pabst Beer and More

 

Courting. Dating. Relationship. The words mean essentially the same thing: the time before marriage. There was a time when women were married off to enlarge a kingdom or cement foreign relations. Women were married off to enlarge a farm or married off just to get rid of her feet from under the family table. One less to feed meant more food for the others. Male children were physically, thus economically, more important. Males carried on the family name and inherited property. Females bore children, kept a household intact, and were even known to pull plows when the family didn’t own a horse or oxen.

Deaths were so frequent following the earliest settling of the East Coast that it was not unusual for an afternoon wedding to follow a morning funeral. A widow was joined in marriage with the most recent widower. A woman needed a man to provide for her, while the man needed a woman to do for him. There was no courting. There was no time to mourn. The marriage following the funeral was one of expedience.

As the American west opened, there was a shortage of women, prompting men to run newspaper ads for wives. Widows and other single eastern women in lower economic circumstances went west to find a husband. A family’s prosperity and survival often depended on the marriage, and often, there was no courtship.              

Ancestry.com describes an ad appearing in an Arkansas newspaper. As Ancestry pointed out, the husband-to-be wanted a woman who would bring practical skills to the marriage. The ad? “Any gal that got a bed, calico dress, coffee pot and skillet, knows how to cut out britches and can make a hunting shirt, knows how to take care of children can have my services until death do us part.” Ancestry did not say how many flocked to answer that ad.

Generations past, real courting included long conversations and spending time with each other. Letters include such wording as “my friend” or “your friend,” while Wikipedia tells us the courting friendship was the “idea of being intimate friends with someone before becoming an intimate lover.”

The times spent in conversations might be followed with a walk that included a chaperone. Time was spent together at social events. If things went well, the man would ask for the woman’s hand in marriage, however in the case of Henry Harkins and Lucy Eveland in Wolf River, it was an elopement a few years following the first settling of the community that would become Algoma.

The elopement was an interesting twist of events because the two families were connected years before. Henry, or Capt. Hank, Harkins was courting Abram and Almira Eveland's 15-year-old daughter, Lucy, while the Evelands were still living in Racine. Because of Lucy's tender age, Mr. and Mrs. Eveland discouraged the courtship and then forbid the marriage, but the young couple was not dissuaded. By the spring of 1855, the Evelands had relocated to Wolf River when Harkins, with David Youngs as his mate, sailed the Lucy Ann to the hamlet. Lucy boarded, and the couple, with Dave as the chaperone, sailed off to elope. Youngs built the fledgling community’s first pier and became the town’s leading factor. The thing was, Dave was the foster son of the Evelands – having been taken in at nine years old following the death of his mother - and the brother-in-law of Hank, the brother of Dave’s late wife Amanda. One would think the Evelands would have hit the ceiling when their 15-year-old daughter ran off with their own Dave abetting the marriage. Adding to the the convoluted story, Henry Harkins was Abram Eveland's employee and was captain of the vessel Mr. Eveland named in honor of his daughter, Henry's heart throb. Dave was part owner of the boat. But it all worked out. Lucy was legally married. What could her parents do? The seemed go with "If ya can't beat 'em, join 'em."

In today’s world, sleeping together and living together are common. Such bedding was common during the country’s colonial days, but not the way one would think. Most courting took place within a two-mile radius, the distance one could easily walk. The cold of winter, depths of snow, and pitch-dark nights made a difference. The man stayed the night and couples “bundled.” In that arrangement, the couple would stay fully clothed while sharing a bed, sometimes with a bundling board between them. Since homes were so cold, the bundling put the kibosh on any hanky-panky while keeping the young couple warm. Besides that, the couple was right under the noses of the girl’s parents.

Frequently, the groom was establishing himself and by the time he married, he was 10 years or more older than the bride. Harriet Warner was a child of 9 when her parents arrived in Wolf River on July 4, 1851. The Warners were one of the three founding families. Onetime Lake Michigan mariner Abraham Hall opened a store in 1852 and followed with a sawmill and then a gristmill. It was a year following the opening of the grist mill that Hall married Harriet who was nearly 25 years his junior. The ceremony took place at Harriet's grandmother’s home in Waukegan, Illinois, although the couple always lived in what became Algoma.

Marriage between close cousins is generally not permitted, however in the mid-1800s first cousins married. Surprisingly, Charles Darwin married his first cousin Emma Wedgewood. Jesse James didn’t rush into anything when he married his first cousin Zerelda Mimms after a 9-year courtship. Such relationships mattered to French Canadians well over 100 years before Darwin when this Blogger found "fourth degree bloodlines" (written in French) on ancestors' matrimonial contract.

The Depression made a difference in marriage and brought long-term courtships. 1930 saw the lowest marriage rates in the U.S. while couples were sometimes engaged for years as they worked to be self-supporting. The beginning of World War ll saw marriages on-the-spur-of-the-moment. Women were widows before they had a chance to be wives, and often the hasty marriages resulted in divorces at the end of the war.

Courting ended in marriage, and marriages were social events. Tiny Wolf River’s first notable social event was the marriage of Mary Yates to Captain Charles Fellows in 1856. Mary's father, “the courtly” Squire John L.V. Yates, performed the wedding ceremony. Other Record Herald history says the wedding of Amine Parker and George Fowles was the first in Wolf River during the winter of 1857 or 1858. They were occasions Harriet Warner Hall remembered being celebrated with homemade beer and a fiddler.

It was courting that brought good ferry service to Wolf River in the 1850s when Goodrich's three-masted barkentine Cleveland served Green Bay, Kewaunee, and Wolf River. It’s a story that wraps up with the Pabst beer dynasty. But how did that happen?

https://journalofantiques.com/
wp-content/uploads/2019/07/1863-
Philip-Best

Captain Frederick Pabst, master of the Cleveland, was courting brewer Jacob Best’s daughter. It was said that was why Capt. Pabst always made good time to Milwaukee. Pabst went from the Cleveland to the Comet in 1861 and was said to be "every inch a sailor," known to be a fearless man who would always pick a German crew if he could. The Enterprise reported the Comet was "one of the best boats on the lake" and it was "officered by true gentlemen," great favorites of the traveling public. Wedding his girl, Maria Best, on March 25, 1862, Johann Gottlieb Frederich (Frederick) Pabst entered business with his father-in-law and later began the company bearing the Pabst name. Generations after Capt. Pabst left sailing, his name remained well-known in Ahnapee/Algoma!

When the Honorable D.A. Reed, Sturgeon Bay District Attorney, was in Ahnapee courting, the paper informed readership. On wonders why the Record felt compelled to point out that there was “nothing improper” in the June 1874 visit. In March 1875, the Record called attention to Rufus Wing, S.H. Sedgwick and George Wing of Kewaunee who paid a visit to Ahnapee. The senior Wing and Sedgwick said they were in town on legal business while the paper called the visit “paradoxical” because it was known both were married men who were in town “a’ courting.” Since they were lawyers, the paper was having some fun. It wasn't women they were "courting." In October 1881, the Record announced the names of Ahnapee men courting in Kewaunee. It was no secret then because some of the men were widowers playing the field. Men of the era certainly needed to find a woman to “do” for them. Local women no doubt knew too much about them.

The Record reported in September 1880 that through the power of Father Cipin, the long-expected marriage of Mary Meunier and Carsten Smith was “consummated at the Catholic Church.” (Language was used differently in those days.) According to the paper, townsfolk noticed that each possessed “an affection for the other that can only be terminated with a union of the hearts.” Perhaps the popular Smith was a bit shy and needed prodding to get on with courting and the wedding.

Newspapers got into the courting patterns and October 1880 was no exception when papers brought scandal and sensationalism to the courting and elopement news. There were stories in the Record, Enterprise, Chicago Times, DePere News, and who knows where else. The papers said Kewaunee County priest Fr. Phillip Crud and Miss Zoe Allard were the “principal characters.” Tongues wagged when Miss Allard broke off her engagement at the time Crud was leaving the area. In the end, Crud was in Cincinnati and Miss Allard was in DePere with her father.

A few years later, the paper said there were hundreds of women who can “thrum” a piano to one who could make a loaf of good bread. The paper said men enjoy a good dinner more than music. When a man is courting, he lives at home, and if he needs to travel, he can find good meals at a hotel or “eating-house.” In a word to the wise, the paper felt even a lion could be tamed with good food.

In March 1886, the Record called attention to the empty-headed boys who felt they were beyond boyhood and were dudes old enough for courting. The  “dudes” called on a neighbor girl who welcomed them. It was a pleasant evening until her father thought it was time for bed, but the boys failed to take the hint and over stayed. Just after midnight, the boys were startled by an apparition in white, shaped like the ”old man” carrying a club. Bidding a hasty retreat with the ghost in hot pursuit, the boys got to the door, but it was locked. Seeing an open window, they went through it. The last boy crawling through the window said the ghost’s club was “awfully heavy and red hot besides.” More than a few fair maidens had an “old man” who knew how to get rid of bothersome courters.

Three years later, an article concerned a young courting man who gave his young lady a lozenge to help relieve her cough. It didn’t work. The next day he received a note with a coat button in it. The note said he must have given her the wrong kind of lozenge, one which he might need. Obviously, the woman in the article wasn’t going to sew on his button. The same paper noted the men marrying widows because they were too lazy to court.  At New Year’s Eve, 1899, posters were advertising a dance just before Valentine’s Day. Algoma’s Dan Tweedale planned to raffle a horse, cutter, and robes. As the Record said, the raffle presented a good chance to win a courting outfit.

Church should be a good place to meet a mate, but not all were of that opinion. A July 1904 Enterprise told readership that English Church officials had different views on courting and courting in churches was getting controversial. Some felt since marriages were made in heaven, courting should be allowed in church? Courting is the gate to marriage as marriage is the gate to heaven.

There were churches that felt to put “Christianity into the congregation” meant courting would follow the right lines. In churches where men sat on one side and women on the other, the segregation stopped courting, prompting the Free and Open Church Association to advocate for greater freedom of sitting in church. When the Record pointed out in 1900 that a huge source a matrimonial difficulty came from a lack of housekeeping knowledge by the wives, the paper didn’t suggest such training as a pre-requisite to courting.

Just as today, young people had things down to a science. Electric lights were coming into being around the turn of 1900, and Algoma was the first Peninsula community to have electric streetlights. A 1903 Record brought up the problems with such lights that young people felt were no good for courting purposes. One young man liked the kerosene lamps his girl took care of. Her family’s piano light had a red shade that softened the light, which was a plus. The girl was thinking ahead when she filled the lamp with just enough fuel to burn to the time her folks went to bed. When the flame dimmed, it was 9:30. The young man was heard to say, “That lamp, controlled by so charming a girl as mine, is a bonanza.”

Kewaunee Farmers and Merchants State Bank used courting in their 1921 ads, saying a fellow’s grandfather went courting on horseback although the fellow’s dad thought a buggy was the height of style in his courting days. The bank went on to say that in 1921, a young man enjoyed taking his sweetheart out in a six-cylinder car while their children – if they married – would likely court behind a cloud bank in “a modern monoplane.” Banking progressed just as courting and in 2022, both are electronic, but forget the monoplane. The bank went on to ask if young men were handling their finances through a modern bank, or the antiquated ways of a grandfather. That question remains 100 years later.

 

Sources: An-An-api sebe: Where is the River?; Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record Herald, Kewaunee Enterprise, Ancestry, Journal of Antiques online, Wikipedia. Postcard is from the Blogger's collection.

Kewaunee County History: Ole Olafson Storle, and the Storle Valve Company

 

Storle Valve Company Building, postmarked 1911

It was an old postcard photo that prompted some curiosity about the Storle company in Kewaunee.

The company seems to have appeared in Kewaunee in early September 1907 when the Enterprise reported that William Karsten presented a petition signed by 250 Kewaunee taxpayers and citizens, including nearly every businessman, asking the city to donate a suitable site and building for a new industry for the manufacture of valves, hydrants, and “specialties.” Discussion was to be taken up at the regular Council meeting on September 5. On the following day, the Enterprise said Council was “inclined,” however did not act, feeling that more information was necessary.

William Karsten, the city attorney, and an alderman were appointed to investigate Storle’s proposal and to see about an option on land Kewaunee Iron Works had for sale. The property in question was between the Iron Works and adjacent to the Ziemer foundry. Zeimer was the alderman appointed to the investigating committee. The  lot in question was on the river and could support a 32 x 75’ building.

Storle’s high pressure valve was already being used in Kewaunee. It was the valve and the invention of a new motor that urged Kewaunee business to encourage manufacturing in the city. Engineers and other experts claimed Storle’s valve was the best invented while Joseph Bohman, president of Kewaunee Brewing Co., said that he used one of the valves for months, and it was the best the company ever had.

In November, the Record announced that contracts were let for the building of the newly incorporated O.O. Storle Valve Co. It went on to say articles of incorporation were filed with the Wisconsin’s Secretary of State, and $50,000 of capital stock was raised among Kewaunee businessmen.

A few months later, in January 1908, Storle’s son Norman arrived from Tacoma, Washington, to accept a position with his father. The forge used in manufacturing the tools necessary for the Storle valve arrived about the same time. Tools needed for valve manufacture were quite different from tools in other machine shops and Storle had to manufacture his own. When the first castings for the valve were received, there were two 2-inch valves and one 2 ½” valve.

Late 1909 saw Storle gone from Kewaunee for about a month in search of capital, which he found. Returning to Kewaunee, manufacturing resumed after the plant had been closed while Storle was looking for money. Although manufacturing began a year earlier and although the valve was the  best on market, it was necessary to raise additional funds to get the valve to market in large numbers.

Just six months later, an Enterprise headline told readership the city was losing an industry. Storle Valve Co. was moving to Green Bay. The paper reminded folks that the city erected a building for Storle two years earlier and sold about $2000 worth of stock, money mostly used for machinery. When it was necessary to raise more capital, the local market was tapped out, forcing Storle to look outside the area.

Rumor had it that Storle Valve Co. had never been in operation because of a lack of capital and had received an offer from Green Bay parties.  If it happened, Kewaunee would lose an industry which so far had not been beneficial to the town, however it would mean a great deal in operation. The Record didn’t know when the move would happen but did say a building was necessary before machinery could be transferred.

As it was, Green Bay valve manufacturer, William Hess, was most impressed with the Kewaunee valve and completed a deal for the company’s purchase. Hess had owned a steam boiler works in Manitowoc. In the deal, Storle retained half interest and held a salaried position, putting up his patents as his portion of the payments. Hess controlled the other half of the business which he financed.  Stockholders were paid in full with 7% interest so they made money on Storle’s brief period in Kewaunee.

In an article the Record reprinted from Manitowoc Daily News, it was said that William Hess moved to Green Bay and founded Storle Valve Co. there, intending to erect a big factory, but decided to go to Manitowoc where he conferred with officers and directors of the Manitowoc Citizen’s Association. Whatever happened, that group refused to divulge information, and the new site was chosen in Green Bay.

When the City of Green Bay donated 6 acres and buildings, the Enterprise felt the company was on track to become one of Green Bay’s largest industries. The Kewaunee factory site and building reverted to the city when the company left the city.

While that was happening, Sam Newman was in Kewaunee investigating the Storle Valve Co. with intentions of purchasing stock and getting the plant into operation. Though the valve was considered one of the best on the market, the plant was idle for 3 years because of lack of capital. Newmann owned the brass factory in Algoma and planned to supply brass castings when the plant went into commission.

When the Record announced Storle’s new gasoline engine in late in 1911, it said the new gasoline engine added a new chapter to motor power and would revolutionize it. The two piston rods – rather than one – will do twice the work with less gas at little expense, said the Record. It also reported Storle assigned his valve patent to Green Bay parties before working on the two-piston engine in the Kewaunee Iron Works shop. According to the paper, local residents marveled at the new engine, and Storle’s sons came from Tacoma to enter the business. Apparently Norman Storle had returned to Tacoma because the paper said both Norman and Benjamin came to Kewaunee. The Record opined that when manufacture began, it would be in the building originally built for Storle’s valve operation.

Storle received his patent letters for the improvement of the gasoline engine in early 1914 and organized the Storle Engine Manufacturing Co., securing the vacant building once the Storle Valve Co. in addition to purchasing the Zeimer foundry property. Plans were to begin operation in days.

As it was, in November 1912 Kewaunee attorney W.A. Cowell served plantiff  Xavier Delain in his suit against members of the Zeimer family, Ella Warner and W. Seyk Co. foreclosing on the Zeimer foundry. Legal notices appearing in the Enterprise, gave notice that by virtue of judgement on November 14, 1912,  the real estate and mortgaged property in Lot 2, Block 13 in the City of Kewaunee, would be sold by Sheriff J.J. Kulhanek at  a Sheriff’s Sale at 2 PM on January 17, 1914.   

Two days after receiving the patent, on January 26, 1914, the new company composed of O.O. Storle, O.L. Pierpont and Wenzel Heck of  Kewaunee and H.O. Brandenberg of Appleton incorporated as Storle Engine Mfg. Co. to build Storle’s patented gas engine. Two engines would be manfuactured – one as a 2-cylinder for farm use and the other a 4-cylinder for autos.

In December 1914, the “wizard of mechanical science,” O.O. Storle, told the Record he received a patent that would assist in the manufacture of violins. The new invention enabled the regulation of tone which, in the past, sometimes ruined a violin. Chippewa Falls’s Hellerd Bros. manufactured violins and were interested in the invention was looking.

The Enterprise revived interest in the Storle Engine Company in late April 1916 when Mr. Storle came from Washington, where he spent the winter with his family, to push his business plans. For two years, the Enterprise said, business cirecles discussed the Storle engine. He said he was completing manufacturing arrangements.

Storle’s partner, H.O. Brandenberg of Oshkosh was expected to arrive within two weeks to arrange manufacture which would begin soon. Storle had secured all the patents. When Storle was questioned about the plans, he had little to say, however did say that manufacturing would be carried on in the old building. Peculiar that it seems, two year earlier, in December 1914, H.O. Grandberg of Oskosh was the promoter of the gasoline engine plant at Kewaunee and was going to begin organizing the manufacturing about January 1. Plans were on hold until Grandberg, who was confined to his Oshkosh home, recovered from his broken leg. Who knows what happened between January 1915 and April 1916?

On May 4, 1923 the papers listed a delinquent tax  for Storle Valve Co. located on Lots 15-16-17-18 of Block 12 in the City of Kewaunee.

Ole O. Storle was remembered in a November 1933 Enterprise article about Storle’s Civil War Union Army service and his capture and escape from Libby prison. Storle was 93 and a resident of Tacoma when the Enterprise reprinted a column from Chicago Journal of Commerce. Making his escape, Storle was wounded in the knee and weak from blood loss as he crawled through corn fields for a week, living on raw corn. The article went on to say that the successful Storle left Kewaunee almost 20 years earlier, after several years residence. The man with 65 patents ran his company in the building across from the Harbor Service Station (in business in 1933) which was then owned by Svoboda Church Furniture.

When Kewaunee was about to get a 2^nd Standard Oil Co. in early 1952, it was on land purchased from Svoboda Church Furniture Co., and Trottman and Selner on lower Milwaukee St. The property fronted on Milwaukee St. and extended to the Co-op. Part of the work to be done was moving the old Storle Valve Co. warehouse to the northwest corner of Dodge and Park where it would remain part of the Svoboda Co.

Who was Ole Olafson Storle?

Although Storle’s gravestone in Tacoma Town Cemetery, Tacoma, Washington, records his dates as 1841-1939, the Racine Journal Times, July 23, 1937, ran an article about the man’s 100^th birthday, celebrated at his Tacoma home. As the inventor of the “Kant Leak” valve, Storle was an organizer/partner of Burlington Brass in 1904. His partners included C.G. Raasch and John Gill, both of whom eventually relocated to California. Storle’s Burlington residence stood on Storle Avenue in Burlington.

The Racine Journal article indicates that the company was not successful, and Storle sold his interest to C.B. McCanna and moved to Tacoma. The article mentioned the visit to Storle in Tacoma by the secretary of the Milwaukee law firm that took care of his patents and legal work. She told the Racine paper about Storle’s children giving the 100^th birthday party. Elderly in years, the hale, hearty man was still enjoying tromping the beaches and finding agates, spotting before the younger people did.

Biographical information said Storle, who came to America from Norway at age 3, invented hundreds of mechanical gadgets, patenting 250 of them. Did get 250 patents, or was it 65 as the Enterprise  said? Either way, it is a lot of patents. One of Storle's initial inventions was the first wire knotter for a grain binder bought by Cyrus McCormick. After working a few years for McCormick, he went to the William Deere Co. (article says William, not John) and International Harvester.

The Racine article continues saying Storle joined Co. H, 10^th Wisconsin Infantry at Lincoln’s first call for volunteers in what would later be called the Civil War. He was wounded three times. After 3 ½ years he returned to Burlington, resumed inventing, and married in 1876.

The biographical article fails to mention Storle’s company, and work, in Kewaunee, nor does it mention his Green Bay connection. Given communications in the late 1930s on the eve of World War ll, perhaps the law secretary was providing what she knew, or perhaps the paper left out what was regarded as unsuccessful for only a few years in a long life. Whatever the reason, Ole Olafson Storle had an impact on Kewaunee County. Having 65 or maybe 250 mechanical patents, it is certain he touched those who never heard of him.

A Google search for Storle’s patents describes an invention in the National Museum of American History, however it was not pictured online. To learn more, see patent model,harvester rake automatic trip| National Museum of American History, https://americanhistory.si.edu>object>nmah_857207 to find the patent modek for the harvester rake automatic trip. Patent number 266.063 2qw recorded on October 17, 1882. 

Below is an image found at https://patents.google.com, US77675A, and found under “mowers combined with apparatus performing additional operations while mowing with rakes” which was an improvement to what had been available earlier.

 

Sources: Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record, Algoma Record Herald, Find a Grave, Kewaunee Enterprise. Postcard is from the blogger’s collection.

Kewaunee County History: Algoma & The Lake Street Hiil, Ski Jump and Toboggan Slide

 

Ninety-degree humid summer days bring wistful thoughts of winter. For a couple of minutes, at least.

Though summers are cooler near the lake, winter sports were on the minds of Ahnapee, now Algoma,  residents well before 1900. By the mid-1920s, city residents were thinking ahead to using the new  toboggan slide at the Camp Site, the name given to the area just before the southern cusp of Crescent  Beach. Winter sports were about to get kicked up a notch.

Camp Siteand Crescent Beach \, early1900s

Fifty years before the toboggan slide became a reality, winter sports routinely made the Record. According to a December 1874 paper, ice skating was good although it wasn’t only young people skating. “Frisky old men and matrons were (also) enjoying a season of pleasures on the ice,” said the Record. Language was used a bit differently 150 years ago! Tragedy was averted a year later when young Louis Fellows broke through the ice while skating on the river near Knowles dye house on the north side of the river near the 2^nd St. Bridge. Fortunately, Michael Wenniger was near and pushed a board toward Louis who was able to pull himself from the water. River conditions were always changing and so did the ice. By 1879, rough ice wasn’t stopping the boys, although the paper didn’t mention the frisky men and matrons.

The Record usually commented  on ice conditions and in 1898, the Ahnapee River was frozen solid with days perfect for skating in early December. Crowds gathered just beyond the new 2^nd Street Bridge to skate up and down the river. On Sunday afternoon and evening, residents had so much fun that peals of laughter could be heard blocks away. Monday and Tuesday found rough ice that didn’t seem to matter to the skaters, but Wednesday’s cold snap froze ice as smooth as glass from the 2^nd Street Bridge to Seyk’s warehouse at the base of Steele Street. The Record’s editors knew that the river would be crowded until the next snowfall spoiled it.

Skaters always took advantage of good skating on the river. When Kewaunee was arranging for an ice rink and enlisted the aid of the fire department in December 1910, the Record encouraged local sports’ lovers to lobby Algoma city officials to follow suit to keep a piece of river ice in suitable condition.

188 ice skates found on line

History tells us Lake Michigan froze over in 1912. How did anyone know for sure? Because of the ice, Goodrich Transit boats discontinued their trips, which meant skaters could use lakeshore ice. During the first week of February, lake water washed over the ice banks and froze to make the best ice rink anywhere. The exceptional ice made skating to Kewaunee almost common. Each weeks boys from both cities were skating back and forth. 1912 skates were not much better than those manufactured in 1888. How could the boys travel 20 miiles on such things?

In late December 1920, the Record offered a plan for making the most of the great outdoors. Youngsters and older residents alike enjoyed winter sports, however the paper felt Algoma lacked necessary facilities. It said a municipal open-air ice rink would cost taxpayers little, and suggested city workmen clear a spot in the river where firemen could see to periodic flooding, keeping the rink in good condition.

Algoma Record Herald continued to opine about the need for exercise in adolescent boys while saying there was little available in Algoma during the winter. The paper again promoted an ice rink in December 1922, then saying a toboggan slide or ski club might serve the purpose that, perhaps, the businessmen would assist in funding.

The idea was there nearly ten years earlier when in December 1911 city resident George Ziemer built a skating rink near his 6^th Street residence. He flooded available land but was waiting for a good freeze. Though the river had always been a popular skating spot, early storms in 1911 affected the ice, and Ziemer’s clean, smooth rink had the river ice beat.

When a spell of warm weather spoiled the rink a month later, Ziemer planned for a new 60 x 100’ square rink that would accommodate even more skaters. In a winter when the river ice was too rough to offer good skating, Algoma skaters had Ziemer to thank for winter fun.

When the city finally followed up on the Record Herald’s suggestion, residents were excited. Not only was Algoma getting a toboggan slide - a ski jump was also in the works. It all happened on what became known as the Lake Street hill.

Nature provided part of the toboggan chute, and the Chamber of Commerce did the rest when it had a 10’ scaffold built at the top of the chute made of boards laid at a 40-degree incline. The tipping platform on the hill got toboggans on the way. The bottom was packed with clay, which – with the boards – were iced.

Riders experienced two bumps – or waves – to speed the sled along. From the bottom of the chute, the toboggan would keep going until momentum slowed at the camp kitchen, a distance of about a quarter mile. The kitchen was in the approximate area of today's fire memorial. The kitchen is the white buildingnext to the road that ran through the Camp Site.

The hill also provided the ski jump. The base of the hill was leveled to provide the jump, the take-off of which was just west of the toboggan slide. Since nature provided the hill with a natural incline, there was a high enough take-off, thus no need to spend additional money building a tower.

When the Chamber’s directors began considering the construction of a ski hill and tobaggan slide, the Record Herald said it was capitalizing on Algoma’s winter climate. The paper said neither skiing nor tobagganing were sports for the feint-hearted but demanded robust, daring, skillful people. The paper felt lawn tennis was harder on the heart than skiing. It also thought skiing was as thrilling as mountain climbing, while saying ski-jumping was not an exhausting sport. Not all agreed. It continued saying tobagganing used muscles and although both sports provided exercise, they were “mild enough” sports for men, women and children from 7 to 70.

The paper which espoused winter sports was cautioning folks in early January 1925 when the community eagerly awaited a good snow. It stressed the danger in tabogganing when snow was rough, saying every bump injured the spine and no matter how much backbone one had, it wouldn’t take a lot of serious jolts. The community was urged to hang on for safety sake. Snow was surely coming.

While Algoma’s toboggan slide needed snow at the bottom, skiing at Krohn’s Lake was good. The landing at Krohn’s was said to be “difficult,” however it was also said skiers got plenty of exercise climbing the hill. (There were no tows or lifts.) The paper pointed out that ski  jumping on glazed snow took “stout pants or agility” and those lacking in agility better have some “stout pants.” The paper did say whether one used skis or trousers in landing, there was no sport as thrilling and inexpensive as ski jumping.

A week later, snow came bringing weather perfect for ski-jumping and tobogganing. But, said the Record Herald’s editor, there was a word of caution to “the fair maidens.” Magazine covers showing beautiful winter wear weren’t “worth a whoop” outdoors, but “hothouse ladies” found the beautiful wear sufficient. Winter sports required more than fashionable clothes. There were more than a few times that the paper let readership know how it felt about Flappers and those who wore pants, but the paper said pants were necessary for winter sports, and said those same sports were an invitation to the “pants-inclined Flappers.” Who could resist winter sports that gave such women an excuse?

Late in 1925, R.P. Birdsall, Chamber of Commerce secretary, called for help at the Camp Site to assist in readying the ski hill. Folks were asked to bring shovels, pails, and sprinklers, and just before Christmas , the Record Herald thanked the Chamber of Commerce, Nature and the young contractors, Wulf and Nelson, who made things work. Mentioning another town, the paper said when that town put away winter, it was just a summer resort with a nice climate and bathing beaches, welcoming tourists as well as its own citizens. Enjoyment of winter sports only meant having adequate warm clothing. Winter or summer, Algoma had it all.

What happened to the toboggan and ski hill? While the ending is not clear, the winter sports on the hill did not last long, and could have been a result of relocation of the lake shore road. Because of the hill and other issues between Alaska and Algoma, the highway – Highway 17 – did not enter Algoma,

In 1927, Algoma City Council called for cooperation from Kewaunee County Board in petitioning the state highway commission for the relocation of Highway 17 to follow the  Lake Shore Road and enter Algoma via the hill. The original and main highway from the south came from Kewaunee to approximately a mile east of Alaska where it turned north at Cmeyla Corner, following  Longfellow  Road to County Highway K before turning north on Evergreen Road to Fremont St. where it entered Algoma. Early Highway 54 turned north at the old "Fenske School" (Pleasant Hill School) to also enter Algoma on Fremont Street.

When the State rebuilt the lake road, it became Highway 42 and entered Algoma as it does today. Learn more about the highway, see blog post Crescent Beach: What a View on Highway 42! What is now the Lake Street hill has been regraded and lowered multiple times in the last 100 years. The hill that offered residents a natural ski hill and toboggan slide in the 1920s was dangerous and frightening to descend with a horse and wagon. Skiing and tobogganing disappeared, however the hill offers the most beautiful lake view on the western shore of Lake Michigan at any time of year.

Sources: Ahnapee Record; Algoma Record Herald; Blogger's post card collection.