Friday, December 29, 2023

Kewaunee County & 168 Years of Pabst

Pabst Blue Ribbon beer meant sales at DeGuelle’s Liquor Store on 1st and Steele in Algoma and at local watering holes a generation and more ago. Pabst competed with Blatz, Miller’s, Schlitz, and others. Just about everybody has heard of Pabst Bue Ribbon, "The Beer That Made Milwaukee Famous," but not everybody knows about the Pabst connection with Algoma, or Wolf River/Ahnepee* as it was. It’s a connection dating to 1856.

The Goodrich Line was organized in 1855 and headquartered in Manitowoc. A few years later, the fledgling Kewaunee Enterprize* told its readers that while other lines had side wheelers, Capt. Goodrich felt propellers were more adaptable in ice thus the future. His rickety old propeller Ogontz served lake shore communities before being sold and recalked in 1861, the year before his 158’ side-wheeled steamer Comet was put into lake shore service. Goodrich boats served Algoma into the 1920s.

But it was Goodrich's three-masted barkentine Cleveland that made its first appearance in Wolf River in 1856, thus forming the Pabst connection nearly 168 years ago. Its master was Prussian born, 20-year-old Capt. Frederick Pabst, and it was Pabst who took over as captain of the Comet in 1861. Fred was courting brewer Phillip Best's daughter, Maria, whom he met in 1860 and married two years later. Pabst was popular, and it was said he was "every inch a sailor" who always picked a German crew. The Enterprize told readers that the Comet was one of the best boats on the lake. Pabst began in the ranks as a cabin boy at 8 or 9 years old to beome the youngest lake captain of that time. Kewaunee County residents felt the courtship kept the young captain on schedule as he was alwasy eager to get to Milwaukee.

Capt. Pabst brought new settlers and freight to Kewaunee County, but he also brought the news. In a day before telegraphs on the Peninsula, news came via the boats. Following the firing on Fort Sumter, it was the Comet that brought the news to Kewaunee County. When ice prevented Capt. Pabst from getting around Two Rivers Point, he was forced to return to Two Rivers, however Kewaunee merchant Assemblyman W.S. Finley got off the boat to walk the six miles through the woods to Kewaunee, arriving about 10 PM.

Pabst and the Comet's officers were associated with Wolf River/Ahnepee events, as well as many others along the shore. The summer of 1861 found anxious citizens waiting for the Comet and the newsboys who came with it bringing Milwaukee newspapers informing readers about the war, Baltimore street fighting, the capture of Fort Pickens, and more.

When Kewaunee County had a “draft riot,” it was Capt. Pabst who sailed into town with Co. A. aboard. “Draft riot” sounds far worse than it was, but it did make a point. Drafting was not ethical. Those with money could purchase a disability or an exemption. There were language barriers and for some time, draft lists were not posted. It was predominantly Belgians who were being shafted, although today’s young would use a far stronger word! On Draft Day, Belgians armed with tree branches and pitchforks marched on Kewaunee to Draft Commissioner Finley’s store.

Finley heard the commotion, grabbed his draft box, and skedaddled to the harbor where a Goodrich steamer in port ready to cast off. Maybe he thought he’d be tarred and feathered to be ridden out of town on a rail like Lawyer Neff, but that’s another story. While Finley made the boat and fled to Milwaukee, he left his wife to deal with the angry men. Knowing the “rioters” had to be hungry and thirsty, Mrs. Finley opened barrels and boxes of food. Making their point, the Belgians went home without incident. Meanwhile, Capt. Pabst brought Finley back with Capt. Cunningham (another Kewaunee merchant) with Company A which marched around Kewaunee on the next draft day. Conscripting continued. Besides marching, Company A made a few raids into the countryside searching for delinquent conscripts and the so-called riot ended in Thanksgiving dinner and a future draft where names were pulled from a “hat” by an Appleton man who was certifiably blind.

When Capt. Pabst landed freight and passengers in early December 1861, the pier was covered with snow and ice. Icicles hanging from the steamer’s lines reminded folks winter was not to be trifled with. As Pabst and the Comet left, the Enterprize said they parted with regret and all looked forward to Spring. A week later Milwaukee News told readership that Capt. Pabst had taken command of the Milwaukee-Two Rivers route and planned to carry freight all winter. The News further reported that the Comet was neat, elegant, comfortable and the swiftest sailor on the lake. With Pabst in charge, winter should be one of profit and safety.

According to news, Pabst was in Milwaukee fitting out and renovating the Comet at the end of February 1862 in anticipation of an early spring. Manitowoc Herald wished fair winds and a prosperous season to the Comet which would make weekly trips to Kewwaunee and Ahnepee* The area was looking forward to Pabst and the Comet when the Enterprize reported it got a few coats of new paint for the opening of navigation “with the same genial officers who will always receive a warm welcome.” April 30 was certainly a red-letter day when the Comet came in with passengers and freight. Making daily trips from Milwaukee to Two Rivers, Pabst planned to make Kewaunee County ports on Saturday, known as “Steamboat Day” in Ahnepee, or Sunday.

Capt. Pabst contributed to area’s social life as he did its business. On July 30, 1862, the Enterprize described a pleasant day when a large party of leading citizens from Manitowoc and Two Rivers who came aboard the Comet accompanied by the Manitowoc Brass and Quadrille Band which offered entertainment for the trip. After a short stay at Kewaunee, the boat moved on to Ahnepee so folks were able take hurried looks at both communities. The many who  had never ventured north of Manitowoc County were favorably impressed with the prosperity of farming and business interests in the Kewaunee County wilderness. When the 27th Regiment was under marching orders and were to leave Wisconsin via the Mississippi River in March 1863, it was Pabst who brought the news.

All good things come to an end and some sources indicate Capt. Pabst’s sailing days ended in December 1863 when he was beached north of Milwaukee during a lake storm. As a family man, the decision was a good one as Fred and Maria had 10 children in a dozen years. Five children survived. Although Fred Pabst was a sailor without brewing experience. he joined his brewer father-in-law who was in ill health. Two of three years later, Fred and his brother-in-law bought out the Best Brewery.

It was in 1844, two years before Milwaukee’s incorporation as a city, that one Phillip Best located in Milwaukee and established the Empire Brewery, also called Jacob Best & Sons Brewery as Phillip’s father Jacob, Sr., and brothers Jacob, Jr., Charles, and Lorenz were part of the company. Charles and Lorenz stepped back and their father retired in 1853. Phillip headed the company and was joined by his sons-in-law, Fred Pabst and Emil Schandein, husband of daughter Lisette. When Phillip retired in 1866 just after the close of the Civil War, Pabst took over.

By 1874 the company was the nation's leading beer producer, which it maintained until about 1900. Part of its growth was greatly affected by the Chicago Fire which was part of the same weather system causing a far greater catastrophe in Wisconsin, the Great Fire of 1871/the Peshtigo Fire. That fire presented new markets as Chicago breweries did not recover, so by 1874, Phillip Best's was the country's largest brewer. When Fred Pabst married Beer Baron Best's daughter, it started the beer dynasty. Ironically, in the years to come, Fred Pabst, Jr. married a Uihlein, and Uihlein was Schlitz beer.

Capt. Pabst was remembered in Ahnapee again early in 1890 when resident William Bie was named First Mate of a new steamship built at Wolf & Davidson's yard in Milwaukee. The new steamer was christened the Fred Pabst and was the largest and finest vessel afloat on the lakes. She was in commission and ready to go for the opening of navigation. The communities that had so much regard for Pabst felt Maria was much like her husband.

Peter Erichsen’s daughter, Anna, was employed by the Pabst family in Milwaukee when she traveled home for the holidays in 1894. When package came from the Express Office, Anna Erichsen found a package of rich and expensive dress goods’ articles. Inside the parcel was a beautiful ladies’ purse containing $25. According to an early February Record, the gift from Mrs. Pabst amounted to a value of about $100. It was Maria Pabst’s way of remembering her domestic who had endeared herself to the family “through the manifestation of zeal and kindness.” $100.00 in 1860 has the same buying power of a little over $3800.00 today.

Not all ran smoothly. Christmas Eve day 1891 changed things for Pabst beer and for other Milwaukee brewers. The International Brewers’ Union lifted a boycott of Milwaukee beer after a year. When Milwaukee brewers accepted an agreement to employ none but union workmen, they again went forward. Under Pabst’s leadership, the company won gold medals at the 1876 Philadelphia Centennial Exposition and at the 1878 Paris World’s Fair. Years later when the company began tying blue ribbons around the neck of its bottles to distinguish it from other beers, customers began asking for the blue-ribbon beer. After winning another blue ribbon at the Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893, the name Pabst Blue Ribbon was born.

Milwaukee County history chronicles Frederick Pabst’s work beyond his captaincy and the brewery. The man who hired German crews when he could also sought to improve life for the city’s immigrants. Providing German books to the German immigrants via a traveling library, somewhat as bookmobiles would 60 or 70 years later, made an impact on his countrymen.

Prohibition did not stop the company which became among the largest breweries in the world. But by then, as in many stories, there was a twist. Fred and Maria’s son, Fred, jr. married Ida Charlotte Uihlein, daughter of August Uihlein. Why is that important? August Uihlein was the chair of Schlitz Brewing Co. which overtook Pabst to become the country’s largest brewer by 1902.

It was in 1923 when the Record Herald harkened back to the old days in an article informing citizens that it was the same Capt. Fred Pabst who adapted to the 18th Amendment (Prohibition) with a new enterprise in farming. Though the name was the same, the entrepreneur was Fred Pabst, Jr. Fred, Sr. had died in 1904. Fred, Jr. affected farming technology and cheese manufacturing in Kewaunee County just as his father Capt. Fred affected transportation, the Civil War, and beer sixty years earlier.

Going from beer to dairy, Fred Pabst, Jr. contributed to building the dairy industry with impressive innovations. While there were those who felt farming was just a diversion of him, and one that would put others in the poor house, Pabst was pioneering in agriculture and making money.

Because of Pabst the younger, strides were made by demonstrating the value of cow testing, tuberculosis testing, and farm accounting. Pabst had not seen adequate financial returns from his herds when milk was shipped to Milwaukee or Chicago. With that, he built a cheese factory, used his own milk, and employed expert cheese makers and chemists to experiment with technology. Results were shared with the free world.

Pabst was almost an instant diary success and used the Milwaukee Pabst plant as his cheese factory. Within a year’s time, he purchased all the cheese he could buy in both Wisconsin and Minnesota, and then he bought another six million pounds for the largest amount of cheese purchased to that time, December 1923.

Fred Pabst, Jr. created a market for his cheese for which there was no market before. His beer made Milwaukee famous and his agricultural endeavors, said the Stanley Republican, “put the dairy industry  under great obligations to him.”

As early as December 28, 1916, the Congress of American Stockmen announced that Fred Pabst of Waukesha County was continuing as a director of the International Livestock Exposition. In May 1942, he was one of those named to represent Wisconsin breeders at the Holstein-Friesian Association at Minneapolis.

In November 1965, UW College of Agriculture’s Fred Pabst scholarship was awarded to Wayne Seifert of Luxemburg. Seifert was majoring in dairy science when the Record Herald carried the article.

As today’s residents toss back a cold one, there just could be a “relationship” that dates to the 1850s or ‘60s when Capt. Fred Pabst transported their ancestors to Kewaunee County. Area stores and bars sell Pabst Blue Ribbon ensuring that Capt. Fred’s legacy remains in social life and business pursuits across the county.

Notes: *Kewaunee Enterprize was renamed Enterprise in 1865. Ahnepee was the forerunner of Ahnapee which respelled its name in 1873 when it was chartered as a village. The place’s name was incorrectly spelled by the State and others and changed in an “if ya can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” spirit.

7/19/1895 Algoma Record Herald announced that Pabst was opening a beer depot in the city (then Ahnapee) in the leased basement of  Henry Grimm's Ahnapee House. Herman Bruemmer was in charge.

 Sources: Ahnapee Record/Algoma Record Herald, An-An-Api-Sebe: Where is the River, Kewaunee Enterprize/Enterprise. The 1908 postcard is from the blogger's collection. 

https://www.in2013dollars.com>Inflation; https://www.pabstmansion.com/history/pabst-family/; https:www.wisconsinhistory.org 

Tuesday, December 26, 2023

Algoma Christmas, 1923-2023: A Century Between


Although 100 years have passed since Algoma’s 1923 Christmas, it was not quite the horse and buggy days. Across the U.S. citizens heard about  President Calvin Coolidge lighting the national Christmas tree (left) for the first time. Algoma residents were beginning to see lit trees, although there were still homes without electricity. Folks celebrated in church and with their loved ones just as others across the world did. 

Legends - and history - say the “Christmas rush” started in Ahnapee/Algoma with the Christmas tree ship captains trying to get the trees south first, and in 1923 and a century later, the rush continues with trees, gifts, Christmas cards, baking, and parties. Rereading old newspapers reflecting the days of our grandparents and great-grandparents is to ask, “So, what’s new?”

The 1923 weather matched this year’s unseasonal temperatures. When third grader Charlotte Boedecker arrived at school one mid-December Day, she presented teacher Miss Anna Mueller a bouquet of pansies in full bloom. Charlotte even found a dandelion to stick in the middle. The flowers were in Mrs. Louis Fellows’ garden, although a few days later, Mrs. Fellows couldn’t even see where her garden was when the area got about 20” of white stuff just before Christmas. While some residents faced lay-offs and job loss, the paper said such loss “failed to diminish the joy found seven decades ago.”

Beautifully decorated, bountifully laden trees gladdened hearts. Hagemeister Brewing Co. added to the city’s holiday spirit and such gifts were quite popular. Carpet sweepers were also said to be very popular. Unpopular were the tax bills that arrived just before Christmas. According to the paper, folks who still had money after buying gifts were the first to pay their taxes. The city needed those taxes.

An early December 1923 Record Herald pointed out that Santa Claus wasn’t standing around to take care of public works just because it would be nice to have them. As the paper pointed out, somebody has to pay for such things, and those who say – the new bridge, for instance – won’t cost the city a penny “has been fooling you, possibly fooling himself.” Sound familiar?

Christmas gifting made up the bulk of the Record Herald advertising. and those with more than a few bucks could purchase a Ford Tudor Sedan for $590 at Lake Shore Garage. Ford’s roomy new body type was offered for the lowest ever price. Lake Shore might have had favorable prices but Chevrolet distributor W.M. Gunderson Co. Inc. offered to deliver a new car on Christmas morning. Imagine a family coming out to find an auto with a big bow. Think of the neighbors surely watching pea-green with envy. Not everybody could afford a new car, and Long and Ponath recommended automobile accessories as super gifts. After all, who didn’t need new Hood tires or Westinghouse batteries? Little things mean comfort.

Wisconsin Public Service was advertising its practical Western Electric Irons for $4.50, or 90 cents down and 90 cents a month for four months. WPS felt everyone should have such comfort and convenience. The women of 1923 would have been overjoyed by such a gift. A man who gave his wife an iron in 1993 would have been in the doghouse for life, provided she didn’t wrap the cord around his neck first. Unless a woman of 2023 worked in a thrift shop, she’d have to ask what an iron was.

Westinghouse Light and Power Plant suggested electric current as a gift for the entire family while pointing out electricity was dependable and could be used with a switch. Best of all, it was not complicated while it was convenient, comfortable, economical, and practical.

Hugo Duecker, of the Hardware and Furniture store by the same name, thought a Globe Range was just the ticket as it was a gift that kept on giving, was economical and resulted in great cooking results 365 days a year. To spend that kind of money, the “little woman” might have chosen a new Roadster and freedom from cooking. The man whose wife couldn’t cook before she got a Globe Range probably thought he “got took” when she couldn’t cook after Christmas either.

Bank of Rio Creek told folks it was the depository for contributions to the Relief of Starving and Friendless German Children. Wisconsin was expected to raise $500,000 as part of the 10 million dollars being raised in the U.S. for the destitute children.

Citizens Bank said Santa lived long enough to be a very wise man who knew a Bank Book would be a gift that kept on giving to improve life. A savings account was sure to bring cheer to one’s life, as long as the receiver was a saver.

Algoma Chamber of Commerce touted Algoma as the Gift City (it’s the Bird City today) and the place to trade. Bruemmer Bros. marketed 49-pound Miss Minneapolis Flour. Farrell Lumber and Algoma Fuel Company trumpeted the gift of heat in coal. Lorenz Perlewitz felt Valspar Varnish was a sought-after gift while the Record Herald thought a two-year subscription to the paper would be preferred. In its list of 45-50 gift suggestions, the most expensive item listed in the newspaper was the solid gold cuff links at Melchoir’s for 8 bucks. Just behind was the Walking Mama Doll, selling for $7.50 at Bach-Dishmaker. Not all prices were shown, however more practical gifts might mean few cuff link sets or walking dolls were under the trees.

Bach-Dishmaker Company on the northeast corner of 4th and Steele promoted itself as “The Store with the Christmas Spirit.” They even offered gift coupons. Dolls seemed to be among the priciest toys even outpacing tricycles.

It made news when Bach-Dishmaker received a radio transmission from the North Pole directing all Algoma children to gather at the store on December 15 between 9 and 11:00 A.M. Santa wanted to meet the children and present them with a little gift.

On December 21, the paper reported on the excited kids who jumped out of bed the previous Saturday. Weather necessitated Santa come by train which suited kids just fine. They worried that he might fly into the lake and drown! Kids ran back and forth on the depot platform listening for the train whistle. The train was late, prompting the youngsters to feel it had to go slower because Santa was a very heavy man.

When the train finally arrived, anxious children followed Santa from the depot to Groessl Drug store on the southeast corner of 4th and Steele where he stood looking for a sign. Suddenly he saw Bach-Dishmaker and headed across the street. The door opened and Santa walked in followed by about 200 kids who rubbed elbows and wedged between counters that creaked with the pushing kids. Mr. Dishmaker assisted Santa, as he climbed on a counter, and then handed the jolly old man letters from Algoma youngsters. Santa asked one of the townsfolk to read the letters, saying he was getting older and his voice was getting so weak that he might not be understood. How many youngsters began worrying about old Santa’s health and the long trip he had ahead of him? Letters were read while Santa scanned faces to determine who had been good and thus deserving. After that, Santa gave out bags of candy as he said good-bye while promising to be back on Christmas Eve. Santa seemed to vanish before their eyes at 11:00, but the children knew he had to get back to the North Pole where there was plenty of work to be done.

Engelbert’s Department Store touted itself as the Christmas Store. Now Walters at 521 Fourth St., the toyland was on the balcony. Low prices enabled parents to purchase the newest novelties “liberally.”  To make shopping easy, Engelbert’s opened in the evenings beginning December 10.

Duecker sold hardware and other practical goods, but he also sold toys. Toyland had things sure to tickle the fancy of kids. There were roller skates, velocipedes (bicycles and tricycles), trains, embroidery sets and laundry sets. How many laundry sets did little girls find beneath the Christmas trees?

Fluck’s City Drug Store, at 321 Steele, was advertising Day Dream Face Powder. Such powder offered more bang for the buck as the purchase came with three fragrant narcissus bulbs. Purchasers were advised that there would be one offer only to a customer.

Kohlbeck’s, The Quality Store, at 221 Steele St. offered Eagle Shirts that were the finest quality at moderate prices. For those who wanted something to go with the shirt, shoes might be the answer. Reinhart Shoe Store was the place for comfy slippers, dressy satin slippers, shoes, and hosiery. Gift coupons were available for customers who could find just the right thing at a price they wanted to pay. C.J. Melchoir Jewelry, on the southwest corner of Third and Steele, claimed the largest stock in Kewaunee County. Melchoir had it all. He even carried thermos bottles which kept food and beverages hot or cold. Joseph J. Charlier ran the jewelry on 4th Street. He had every type of quality jewelry including diamonds, wristwatches, clocks, gift coupons and more for those who worried about flat irons and played it safe with pearls.

Music was always in the air in Algoma, and Guth’s Music Store arranged deliveries on Christmas Eve. Charles Guth had bought out August Klatt's business and whether it was a piano, victrola, records, or gift coupons, Algoma’s “Square Deal Music House”at 314 Steele St. made it happen.

Earl Sibilsky’s Delicatessen Store told residents festive Christmas tables should be bedecked with the finest foods available. Luckily, Sibilsky had fresh greens, fruits, nuts, and all kinds of groceries. A dozen oranges cost 25 cents while 2 pounds of chocolate drops, jellybeans, peanut brittle, and molasses candy cost 35 cents. This week (2023) oranges are 99 cents each and a pound of fine chocolates is about the same as a pound of lobster tail.

For those who wanted candy, Bach-Dishmaker, The Big Store on the Corner, had two tons of Christmas candy to be sold for 19 cents a pound. Nineteen cents was a bit pricey, but the astounding thing was two tons of candy at just one store. Algoma’s 1920 population stood at just a fuzz under 2,000. All that candy was probably a boon to the city’s dentists, Dr. Slaby and Dr. Murphy. Dr. Toothacker was another who served the city, but he was a physician rather than a dentist.

Door to door sales have fallen off in recent years while internet scams are rampant. Each fall, folks are inundated with requests for money for groups from A to Z. While honest organizations tear at the heartstrings, a family can only do so much. However, it is hard to resist the fresh-faced, younger kids hesitating over a memorized plea while collecting for whatever organization. A mid-December 1923 Record Herald said every kid in town descended on residents in both morning and after school sieges trying to sell Christmas seals. The paper termed the kids “little marauders” who were trying to break the locks of pocketbooks. Editor Harry H. Heidmann said a fresh supply of Christmas seals meant more to kids than a war hero’s decoration to a soldier.

Christmas is the time for releasing movies, and so it was in 1923. For 15-25 cents, Algoma youngsters could view a Christmas Day matinee, “Hurry for the Christmas Ship.” Added entertainment included Nora Rose singing a Christmas song and a group of 20 boys and girls singing about the Christmas ship. Further adding to the festivities, a large ship filled with presents was on the stage. No less than Santa himself was on hand to present gifts to kids under 12. The more astute kids no doubt wondered why the jolly old man was still up after flying around the world before dawn.

The Majestic Theater advertised “Nothing Too Good for Algoma” and that came with great organ music. Saturday night, December 22nd , began with an overture followed by High Life, a comedy, and then William Russell in the feature film, The Crusader. Sunday’s matinee began with the overture and went on to the main feature, Worlds Applause with its stellar cast. Sunday evening’s offering was the same, but it included the great Will Rogers in a comedy.

While not offering movies on the 24th, Christmas afternoon featured movies for boys and girls. Evening movies were adult-oriented and on Christmas night, the city’s baker, accordion player Mr. Knaapen, accompanied the organist. The comedy feature that night was extra-long with three reels. The 26th and 27th featured Ebb Tide starring Lila Lee and Noah Berry. The South Seas film was certain to entertain with its breathless thrills, colorful romance, and a great octopus battle packed in between.

On December 24, 1963, the Majestic showed The Duel of the Titans. Admission to that matinee was a box top or bottle cap from any Carnival Guernsey product. Movies released in theaters on Christmas Day 2023 include The Color Purple, Ferrari, and The Boys in the Boat.

It is most unusual if one fails, in 2023, to see Amazon, UPS, or USPS vehicles day and night helping Rudolph guide deliveries. A century ago, dray lines were making deliveries with horse and wagon. Kewaunee County saw Rural Free Delivery (RFD) come into existence a mere 20 years earlier. Postmaster General New urged people to mail parcels early. The kicker was that he approved an amendment giving postal employees a holiday on Christmas Day 1923. Approved for the “welfare and happiness of postal employes”, the mailmen were directed to notify rural patrons there would be no December 25th delivery. However, the notification was to be accomplished in a way that did not incur any expense to the DPO.

Postmaster New seemed to be blaming carriers in advance for any disappointment that they might experience. New wrote, “We confidentially hope that carriers will put forth their best efforts to effect delivery…….so that there will be no disappointment..….” New went on to say that failure on the part of an individual carrier to do this will subject him  to severe criticism and “will be a severe cause of regret to the postal department.” In 1923, rural carriers needed Donder and Blitzen for delivery. At the time, the vehicles in existence weren’t worth much in snow so horse and buggy was the way to go. In some instances, the mailmen had to rebuild bridges in order to deliver mail. Some found themselves breaking through ice.

Christmas in Algoma, and Wolf River/Ahnapee before it, meant observance of that first Christmas 2,000 years ago. When Pastor A. F. Schlei announced St. Paul’s Christmas services, he said they would be in German on Sunday, December 23. On the evening of the 24th, the Sunday school and parochial school kids gave their program followed by services in English and German. On Monday the 25th, German services were at 9:45, followed by services in English at 11:00.

The Methodist Episcopal Church planned “unique” services conducted by the young people on Sunday evening. Christmas candles were to be lit while Christmas music and legends were part of the service. Earlier that day there was a public worship. The Sunday School kids presented their program on Christmas Eve near the Christmas tree. All were welcomed.

Midnight mass was offered on Christmas Eve at St. Mary’s. It was followed by Christmas Day masses at 8:00 and 10:00 and vesper services at 3 PM. On second Christmas Day, the 26th, mass was offered at 9:00.

St. Agnes Episcopal put out a slightly different schedule. Mass would be held at 7:30 p.m. on Christmas Eve while a 7:30 a.m. high mass was planned for Christmas Day followed by a 9:00 low mass. St. Agnes also planned for second Christmas Day on the 26th, and for Thursday and Friday, when mass would be offered at 7:30 each morning.

The more things change, the more they remain the same.

Soures: Algoma Record Herald; 
1923 National Christmas Trees is from https://prologue.blogs.archives.gov/2023/11/27/100th-anniversary-of-the-national-christmas-tree-lighting/ 

Friday, December 22, 2023

Algoma, World War ll & Billie the Brownie

 


WPR’s Larry Meiller hosted Santa on his show today. Kids from Wisconsin, and some from Iowa, got to share their Christmas wish lists and learn something about Rudolph and the other reindeer waiting on the roof of  Vilas Hall. The kids learned Santa loves cookies, although after the first 200 or so, he slows down a bit. And everything was right on schedule at the North Pole.

Santa never ages and was on the radio 80 or so years ago when the world was a vastly different place. It was World War ll.

Our living room seemed so dark when Mom settled me on her lap to listen to Billie the Brownie on WTMJ radio. Our drapes were pulled over the shades that were always lowered at night. Algoma had its first practice World War ll blackout in mid-August 1942, an event mandated in Kewaunee County. Practicing or not, the shades were pulled.

We were far from Milwaukee, but the airwaves traveled up Lake Michigan’s shore to the Peninsula where I, and so many children, waited for Santa and Billie the Brownie. It was the early days of World War ll, a time when I have far more memories of Billie than I do of of my dad. Blind as a bat without his glasses, he was rejected for military service, however he worked long hours, even on Saturday, superintending boat hulls, airplane wings and noses. I was in bed when Dad left for work and sleeping by the time he got home.

The radio cracked as Mom tuned in WTMJ while she put me on her lap, settling into Dad’s Rock ‘n Ez next to the radio. Then Santa! His “ho-ho-ho,” Billie’s high squeaky voice, and the Christmas letters remain with me today. Also remaining with me is the man whose voice scared me and frightened me years later.

We got our TV in 1953. One 1959 summer evening I turned on the black and white set to see a man sitting in what appeared to be a leather chair while smoke was rising from the cigarette in his hand. I heard that voice and froze. It was that voice, the one that said, “This is London.” When I asked Mom about it, she told me the man was Edward Murrow, a news correspondent who broadcast during the war. How did I know that voice? Mom said she listened to the news while she waited for Dad to come home. I thought the man had something to do with Billie the Brownie, but the news was on after.

Several years ago, I was on the highway listening to public radio when I heard the name Gabriel Heatter. What kid forgets a name like that? Billie the Brownie popped into my mind. Mom said Gabriel Heatter was another newsman we heard on WTMJ.

We all have Christmas memories. Some are good. Some are not. In all my memories, Christmas brings warm thoughts of WTMJ, Santa, Billie and a little barking dog. Those memories are right next to those where a voice and a name frightened a little kid snuggled into her anxious mom’s tensed arms during the dark days World War ll.

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A comment: Within recent weeks TMJ4 carried the story of Billie the Brownie being unveiled in the National Bobblehead Hall of Fame. To find out more about Billie, just Google. Be aware - pictures of Billie are not what our minds envisioned during the broadcasts.

Sunday, November 26, 2023

Foscoro: A Hamlet with "Issues"

This map of Foscoro comes from the 1876 Kewaunee County Plat Map of the Town of Ahnapee. Foscoro School, Joint District #1 of the Towns of Clay Banks and Ahnapee, is visible on the north side of Stony Creek along the Door-Kewaunee County line. The saw and gristmills are on the north side of the pier while the hotel is on Lot 2. Stony Creek is visible from the county line to Lake Michigan.

When a March 1871 Milwaukee News article was reprinted, in part, by Door County Advocate on April 13, 1871, it pointed to a Milwaukee News article found in Kewaunee Enterprise  which described the place then called Foscoro. Published before the great fire in October and others that preceded it that summer, the author said Foscoro’s founders – Messrs. Foster, Coe, and Rowe - planned a village they felt would become a mighty city. More than likely, by the time the place became that mighty city, there would have been a “push” to find out where the place really was.

Foscoro was never mighty and hardly even  big enough to be a hamlet. Small as it was, Foscoro had big city issues. “Issues” is an over-used word in the world of 2023, and if a municipality has issues, it is not a good thing. Foscoro was a hamlet with issues long before the word was in vogue.

Taking County Highway S north out of Algoma, turning east at County Highway U and following it until the sounds of waves calm the senses, peace announces one’s arrival at yesteryear’s Foscoro, now called Stony Creek. Following the Lake Michigan shoreline means there might be fog obscuring the small green highway sign and missing the sign might mean missing the once thriving pier community that, at times, didn’t know where it was either.

Located on the Kewaunee/Door County line, it took years before the hamlet knew which county it was truly in. Even its post offices went back and forth. Unusual was Foscoro School, otherwise known as Joint District No. 1 of the Towns of Ahnapee and Clay Banks. Or in Kewaunee and Door Counties.

While the place's location seemed to be a mystery, it was a growing pier community serving the timber industry. Early in 1879, Ahnepee's* Walter Youngs noted the progress of the new mill on Stony Creek in the northeastern part of the Town of Ahnepee. He told others about a creek rising in the Door County Town of Nasewaupee, flowing to Lake Michigan where the mill was at its mouth. Youngs felt a dam would keep water running at all times of the year.

A few months later -  May 1870 – the Kewaunee Enterprise mentioned Mr. George A. Rowe & Co.’s new sawmill at the mouth of Stony Creek. Timber was ready for the pier to be built as soon as practical after the mill was running. Rowe was also planning a grist mill and possibly a store. The Enterprise opined such improvements would be permanent and substantial, being a great benefit to the area. Other members of the firm were attorneys George W. Foster and Harvey L. Coe of Port Washington. Rowe was living in Ahnapee.

Competition came when Henry Geier erected his grist mill west on Stony Creek in the Town of Forestville in October 1875. Charles Fellows’ Foscoro feed mill had been the only gristmill on the lake route from Ahnapee to Sturgeon Bay.

By September 1876, Ahnapee Record described Foscoro, so at least somebody knew where it was. Readership was informed the area known as Foscoro was on Lot 2, Section 6, Town 25, Range 26 in the Town of Ahnapee, at the mouth of Stony Creek. At the time, it consisted of a new mill, bridge pier, store, 6 dwellings and 2 barns, all built 2 years earlier. Additionally, there was an 850’ pier with 11 feet of water at the end. The mill was run by waterpower with a 24’ head and, the Record opined, a small expense meant plenty of power all year. It’s Leffel wheel provided over 90 hp for two circular saws which had a capacity of 25,000 feet per day.

While the Record knew where Foscoro was, there were many who weren't sure. According to a November 1877 Record, Attorney Harvey L. Coe finished another survey of the hamlet, which most found satisfactory. However, it did not suit all. The paper claimed the survey was less expensive than others and that Coe tried to be impartial, suiting the needs of all. Coe was one of the men responsible for the heyday of Foscoro. Its name came from a combination of his name, his co-attorney George W. Foster and George A. Rowe. Coe and Foster also practiced law in Kewaunee.

Those outside the immediate area learned a little about Foscoro was in 1877 when both the Advocate and Record  reported a child-animal being born nearby. Determined to see for himself, the Record reporter said he peeled off the bark on all the trees along the Clay Banks road chasing a story he called “humbug” rather than using more unprintable words. A child was indeed born, but the child was born without an arm. What the outlandish story did was to promote an interest in peninsula geography.

How long did Foscoro last? In July 1877, the Enterprise referred to Harvey Coe as formerly of Foster, Coe, and Rowe of Foscoro. Things were changing. The name stuck for a while though by 1883 newspapers were using Stony/Stoney Creek and Foscoro interchangeably.

Just before Christmas 1877, the Advocate reported that Swaty & Son and Charles Fellows entered a partnership of dry goods and groceries and were ready to supply the whole country. The paper said the store was so crowded that the sides were bowing out. When the Record published on the following Halloween, it said Capt. Fellows improved about 4 miles of Stony Creek in compliance with Chapter 163 of the Laws of 1878, which “fixed” the creek for floating “wooden objects” from the backwoods down the creek. Fellows said the project was a great advantage to the farmers and others. Foscoro was coming into its own.

When Fellows applied for a post office in February 1878, he said the new office would serve 75-100 people. His application indicated Clay Banks' post office was 3 miles north, Forestville's was 6 miles west and Ahnapee's 6 miles south. If there were 100 folks at most to be served, the area was sparsely settled and for so people, where did all the issues come from?

Taken from the 1878 post office application

Crime in a place as small as Foscoro doesn’t sound possible, but it was. The area between the Clay Banks and Foscoro piers, near Foscoro school house, was finally going to be investigated according to the June 21, 1883, Record. “Foot pads” concealed in the bushes had stopped those on the road for years. When a gun was fired at Charles Hitt and the occupants of his wagon, the paper opined that the dark road was well-suited to the activities of foot pads which should be put where they could not molest others. The seat of Hitt’s wagon had broken as Hitt held his frightened horses while they attempted to run. Since passengers were sitting on the floor of the wagon, it is possible the highway man or men thought Mr. Hitt was alone.

Often, crimes begin in saloons. Some things never change. People enjoy having fun, and that doesn't change either. Mixing the two can result in disastrous consequences.

The Advocate seemed to know where Foscoro was in February 1875, when it mentioned that William L. Nelson had leased and taken possession of the Foscoro House. In May the Enterprise appeared to be chuckling, having reprinted an article from the Record when it spoke of a dance at the Foscoro hotel. Saying the landlord’s name was DeCanter and since the Foscoro Hotel was a public house, there was something familiar about the word decanter………

Just before Halloween 1877 the Record told readership about 14 canal laborers who were on their way to Chicago when they stopped at Hugh Ackers “ last Thursday and got pretty well set up.” A purse with money was lost and as the men arrived in Ahnapee on Friday, the loss culminated in a knock-down fight from the effects of too much “O be joyful.” One man was fined $7.50 while another rested in the lock-up overnight.

By late November 1878, folks knew where the place was when the Advocate reported the barroom shooting at Foscoro, right over the county line. A man was shot in a drunken brawl at Hugh Acker’s saloon.

The shooting got puzzling. While the Enterprise, Advocate and Record were somewhat in agreement about the sequence of events, the names of the participants and the outcomes were blurred. John Swenson was named as Swinson in the Record which lists Ben Owenson and Knud Ownes, reporting Knud Ownes as the man shot. The Advocate article cites John Swenson while reporting Knud Owenson was shot, however there is no mention Ownes.

Swenson, Ownes, and Owenson were unmarried fishermen living and working together in Clay Banks. They were on their way home from Ahnapee when they stopped at Acker’s. As one story goes, they were well fortified with liquor before they got to Acker’s.

Owenson was drunk and apparently having trouble speaking. The men had a drink or two and began playing cards. Then they began arguing about something in the past.

Ownes - who was said to be a “desperate character” when under the influence - pulled a large jack-knife from his pocket. He threatened Swenson who told him to sit down, Ownes got up and threatened again, and again Swenson told him to sit down, which he did. Then it happened again. The fourth time Ownes jumped up, he went around to Swenson, knife drawn. Standing about 3’ apart, Ownes became more threatening when Swenson drew his Smith & Wesson and fired, seeming to strike Owenson in the 7th rib. How was that determined in such states of intoxication?

As the November 29 Enterprise told the story, Ownes and Swenson met at Acker’s saloon and engaged in excessive drinking which brought on such conduct as “usually attends the immoderate use of intoxicating beverages.” It said that when they sat down to play cards, Ownes was quite loud although Swenson controlled his actions. Continuing,  the paper said Ownes stood at the saloon door with a knife. refusing to allow Swenson to leave. Swenson could no longer hold his temper and withdrew his revolver to shoot Ownes “down.”  

The Enterprise continued informing citizens that the shooting happened on Friday and on Monday Justice Yates issued an arrest warrant for Swenson and held him under bond of $1,000 for his appearance at the Circuit Court in April.

Meanwhile, on November 29th, the Expositor Independent said Swenson and Owenson (Ownes is not mentioned) were playing cards and drinking freely when they argued about the game. That article says when Owenson drew his knife, Swenson drew his revolver from his pocket and shot the former in the abdomen. The article went on to say Swenson “procured the ball” and was taking care of the man he shot. The paper did not think the injured man could recover. 

What happened next is hard to understand. Ownes was left lying on the floor when Swenson wanted more to drink and then fell asleep. What were Owenson and Acker doing?

In the morning Ownes was still on the floor when Swenson was sufficiently sobered to realize what happened. He sent for Dr. Perlewitz from Ahnapee who originally thought Ownes was in serious condition. The Enterprise says Dr. Parsons (not Perlewitz) was called to render all possible medical aid. Some felt that Ownes lost much blood from internal bleeding that recovery was doubtful. A day or so later, Perlewitz found the bullet was three inches lower in the abdomen than first thought, however, did not remove it. He felt Ownes would be well within a few weeks. Ownes, however, was worried about his friend Swenson and felt his (Ownes) actions were responsible for the shooting.

Swenson was arrested immediately and taken to Ahnapee where he was brought to Justice Yates, charged with shooting Knud Ownes, and bound over for the next Circuit Court. Swenson pled not guilty before being charged by Yates and said he acted with justification. He gave bail of $1,000 and was to appear at the April Circuit Court term. The trial for the shooting and killing - papers do not agree on this - Knud Owens was slated for November at Kewaunee. Folks felt if Owens died, Swenson would likely be held blameless as he acted in self-defense. He had to shoot Owens or be carved up by Owens' knife.

Hugh Acker and Ben Owenson were subpoenaed as witnesses which the April 25, 1879, Enterprise listed as the trial of the State of Wisconsin vs John Swenson. On May 1, the same paper said Swenson was “acquitted of shooting Knud Owens last November.”

Months before the trial, the November 28, 1878, Enterprise reported the bills turned in to the county Committee on Miscellaneous Accounts which paid Justice J.L.V. Yates $5.31 for fees and the inquest for Knud Ownes. “Inquest” suggests Ownes died. However, Ownes was still living when the Advocate and Expositor Independent published after that date. That seems to indicate the inquest involved the shooting and no death. The Advocate of May 1, 1879, noted John Swenson’s trial for shooting and killing of Knut Owenson in November was about to start.

Some say the Ownes was the victim of Door County’s first murder, but it happened in Kewaunee County.

Foscoro never had a church and whiskey might have been the reason. Tanum Lutheran Church at Vignes is the only church in Clay Banks and would have been close enough for Foscoro residents. At one point, Seventh Day Adventists were hauling stone to build near Salona, but nothing happened. The Catholics also planned for a church and arranged a raising bee. On the scheduled workday the men went into the woods in a Norwegian area. The builders brought so much beer and whiskey that the Norwegians felt the logs were going to be floated. By the time they ran out of alcohol, the men couldn’t do much more and the church never materialized. Recorded history says that the large Norwegian population organized their church in 1872, and until the church was built, services were held in Charles Hitt’s dining room and saloon. Proximity of spirits doubtless meant the service was far too long for some.

It wasn’t liquor that caused the problem in July 1877 – it was pop that was stolen from Foscoro House. The pop was manufactured in Ahnapee by Magnus Haucke and his father-in-law Henry Baumann. Theirs was the first such manufactory on the peninsula. Ironic is that product often went north on McDonald’s Whiskey Pete. Perhaps the robbers felt saloons only carried liquor, or perhaps they felt Whiskey Pete was worthy of its namesake.

One William Flaherty was hitting the sauce during November 1877, a year before the Ownes shooting. He didn't spend his money at the Foscoro saloon though. Flaherty was on his way from Kewaunee to Stony Creek,** having freely "indulged in the cup." Reaching Ahnapee, he hired a horse, buckboard, and services of Fred Dammon. Getting cold, Flaherty was searching for his mittens while commanding Dammon to stop. He did not. Issuing the command a third time, Mr. Dammon began thinking Flaherty was hunting for his revolver and, in fright, jumped off the buckboard, hiding in the dark. Meanwhile the inebriated Flaherty  had the horse in the dark while Dammon had to walk through the dark and mud back to Ahnapee. The horse was returned the next day.

In January 1878, Sturgeon Bay Advocate withheld the name of a man who wanted to go to a ball in Foscoro. The unnamed borrowed the buckboard of one man, thills of another, and the horse of a third, and rigged a harness with pieces of rope and bits of strap. Then he found three girls and his one-eyed, bobtail dog. Pleasure, happiness, fun, defeat, and humiliation came next. He had too much benzine (which was sniffed to get high), and then wagged his tongue too much. If anybody knew how he lost his pants, the Advocate wasn’t telling. For a man with three young women on his arm, it was worse was when some other fellow took the girls home. Not even the dog stayed with him. As the Advocate said, he was trying to get through a knot hole to avoid being seen. Who would the Advocate not name?

Two months later, the Advocate might have told a different story, when it pointed out, tongue-in-cheek, the roads between Ahnapee and Foscoro were in “wonderful condition” with the mud being only 2’ deep. Was it the mud or something else that happened when the Record told readership in April that the telegraph line between Clay Banks and Foscoro broke in 2 or 3 places and wire was lying on the road. Poles were also down and on the ground, but there were those, including the Record, who wondered whose business was it to rebuilt it? Was the location of Foscoro still a mystery in 1878? Finally, two years later, in late April 1880, the Record said the telegraph office was re-established at Foscoro. Henry Overbeck at Ahnapee was the operator.

Foscoro School has been forgotten by following generations and is not included in the list of Kewaunee County schools. The school has provided its own stories.

According to the July 16, 1914, Record, a portion of the Towns of Clay Banks and Ahnapee was organized into a joint school district in 1874. Until February 1875 when the Enterprise reported that Foscoro schoolhouse had a fire, the school didn’t generate news. The fire was due to a damaged flue and damage was slight, however flames were difficult to extinguish. That paper reported in May 1878 that C.B. Post of Foscoro had the contract for a new 26’ x 36’ district schoolhouse, so perhaps the damage was more substantial than thought.

In February 1879, Foscoro school, with teacher Susie Seymour, closed because of diphtheria and other sickness. Fifteen months later, the Record said Foscoro school closed due to the illness of teacher Addie Morey.

An August 1885 Advocate told readers Jessie Dreutzer was engaged to teach at Foscoro School for the fall and winter seasons which began on October 1. Florence Barrand was engaged as the teacher for Foscoro school in Joint District 1# said a late July 1888 Record. The eight-month term began on the first Monday of September. In earlier years there were winter and summer terms such as on April 27, 1882, when the Record said Foscoro school district would begin the summer term on Monday. On November 22, 1883, Miss Olive Foster began teaching the winter term at the school.

The Advocate thanked Clay Banks Town Clerk Nelson who presented the statement of taxation in the town’s school districts in January 1883. Joint District #1, Clay Banks and Ahnapee, was $2.03 on $100 valuation. District #1 was the least at $1.88 on $100 while District #2 was $2.93 on $100 valuation, which is a significant difference within the three districts.

It seems as if the joint district had so many teachers and sometimes two a year. Then in July 1892, the Advocate reported that Joint District #1 elected Foscoro resident Robert Johnson as clerk in place of Lars Knudson and engaged Clara Acker as the teacher. Clara was teaching during the winter term when the Christmas edition of the Record noted that she spent the holidays with her parents.

It seemed strange in January 1895 when the Advocate reported that Robert Johnson, L.J. Fellows and Henry Awe, the board members of Joint District #1 of Clay Banks and Ahnapee, had a treasury balance of $7.88. They did not vote funds for the following school year. They also voted that there would be no school held in the district for the ensuring term. The previous teacher was paid, on average, $28 per month. Why would there be no school? Was the District dealing with so much that board members just gave up?

About 6 weeks before the end of her contract, teacher Lizzie Madoche was discharged for alleged inability to maintain order and discipline. Clara Acker who served as teacher in 1892 was hired in Lizzie’s place, and it was Clara who was called as a witness when Lizzie sued for lost wages for the balance of the term. On August 2, the case came before Justice Dehos who ruled in favor of Madoche.

The District was back in court a few months later in November when on a Tuesday morning Judge Masse was hearing testimony in the action brought against Joint District #1, Robert Johnson, and Louis J. Fellows, two of the district officers. Some taxpayers petitioned for their removal. Among charges was neglecting to call a special meeting when legally requested to do so. It came about for “wrongfully and illegally discharging Miss Eliza Madosch (sic), a former teacher in the district.” That action involved the district in litigation resulting taxpayers “entailing thereof in heavy loss.” Y. V. Dreutzer represented the people while Johnson and Fellows handled their own affairs. After the hearing, an adjournment was taken for six days.

When Judge Masse opened court that Monday morning in December 1895, he dismissed the case against the school board members, saying he had no jurisdiction. It was shown that since only 17 of the 59 district electors signed the petition, prosecution evidence was weak. Johnson and Fellows claimed that the litigation to oust them came from a few malcontents in a scheme to break up the district. It was said the malcontents resided in another district but owned land in the Joint District. Since the whiners did not have children to send to school, they felt they should not have to pay taxes for educational purposes.

Though history suggests Foscoro School closed, it didn’t. In January 1898, the Advocate  told readers there was a change of teachers when Miss Samuelson decided to take charge of the one pupil school. The paper said she was an “earnest worker” and the best wishes of her “patrons” went with her.

In early September 1898, the  Record said Joint District #1 schoolhouse burned about 10 PM on Friday night in a fire of undetermined origin. The building remained property of Joint District #1, which was dissolved during the winter. The building was a total loss as there was no insurance on it or its contents. The question was, what caused the fire? The building was not open. The heating stove was not in use. There was no lightning. There was no reason for the fire.

The Advocate announced, in early March 1899, the construction of a new schoolhouse for Clay Banks’ first district located in the Vignes neighborhood. Vignes was the center of the district when Joint District #1 was consolidated with Clay Banks #1. Foscoro children went to Lakeview School.

The mill was gone, the school district was near its end, and the post office closed in 1900 due to lack of patronage. The post office would have been closed within the next few years as R.F.D. came into being in 1904. Foscoro slipped into the past.

When the Record chronicled  Issac Orell’s purchase of 40 acres from Mr. Fellows in May 1878, it mentioned that the land had a beautiful little lake of about 1 acre, the banks of which, when cleared, would be one of the finest building places in the county. The fire of 1871 was by then regarded as an advantage as the destruction of timber cleared land for farming.

The disappearance of the incredible beauty of Stony Creek was reproduced by the Advocate in April 1871 from an article appearing in the Enterprise saying that at Stony Creek, the site of the pier, was “invested with the halo of romance by Jeannie who writes for the Milwaukee News.” Jeannie said about ¼ mile north of the village plat the high bluff at the Lake recedes about 40-50 rods, turning into a gentle hill extending southeasterly about the same difference from the Lake and then back to the shore. Jeannie felt “within this amphitheater is the future, the sweetest village that the waves of Lake Michigan shall kiss.” She said the ground “descended softly to the lake” and water flowed in a way that she felt it was “the home of fairies.”

Amphitheater was the word used describing the” stream of rocks” from the creek to the lake when Rowe, Coe and Foster built the large sawmill, destroying the beautiful cedars and other trees suggesting monuments of a by-gone era into a place devoid of beauty or sense of poetry.

It was written in 1883 that, “Only a short distance from the mill, and connected with it by a wooden railroad, is a pier run out into the lake a thousand feet. How it mars the beauty of this fair nook! It is as some beautiful girl, with a mouth to excite an irresistible desire for a kiss, should all at once run out a tongue like an anteater.” By then Lake Michigan mariners failed to see the fairies but did see a dwelling-place of demons. Just outside of Foscoro lies a shoal which has been the cause of multiple shipwrecks.

It was also written that a brief time ago, Foscoro was the loveliest village on Lake Michigan, however “the loveliness of the place departed” causing one’s heart to swell with such grief that the penman “had to weep.”

- - - - - - 

*What became Algoma in 1897 was called Ahnepee until 1873 when the spelling changed to Ahnapee.

**Foscoro is now called Stony/Stoney Creek,

Sources: Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record Herald, Door County Advocate, Door County Expositor, Kewaunee Enterprise; 1876 Kewaunee County Plat Book; Here Comes the Mail: Post Offices of Kewaunee County http://genealogytrails.com>history1917_chapter47; https://www.geocaching.com/geocache/GC5RZMT 


Saturday, November 11, 2023

Lest We Forget: Veterans’ Day 2023


Nineteen years ago, on Saturday November 11, eight or nine veterans working on a Green Bay Yacht Club project decided to have an impromptu flag raising and observance. The day mushroomed to what it is today feting hundreds of veterans from as far away as the U.P. Nineteen years ago there were those who served in World War ll. In today’s throng there was one. There were Korean vets, but not many. Most were Vietnam and the post-Nam men and women. The older folks didn’t escape their country’s call; they had little choice when they were drafted. Those serving in the last 50 years, when the draft ended, were volunteers and served because they did have a choice.

As the master of ceremonies eloquently pointed out, joining the military is giving the country a blank check for one’s life. It means acceptance of any duty at any location while knowing the blank check might be paid with death. Veterans date to the beginning of this country, and the millions of vets deserve far more than a trite “Thank you for your service” on this day while they are forgotten every other day. The Greatest Generation is passing away before us while those who served in the Vietnam era are still getting kicked in the teeth. Many who never served, and laughed at those who did, think it is just a job. But they really don’t think. How many were maimed for life? How many have Agent Orange blood borne diseases and other cancers? How many have lost arms, legs and eyes, or the ability to have children? How many have PTSD and deal with mental illness, or have such emotional issues that close relationships are all but impossible. Then there is homelessness. All is paid by that blank check.

While others begin careers, buy homes, and take cruises, the young people who were drafted and now volunteering put their lives on hold. Whether the men and women had/have stateside duties or were on foreign soil, lives were on hold. Speaker Lt. Col. Pruitt talked about a Marine standing on a wall when he was asked why he was standing there. The Marine replied that he was there so we could sleep without fear as evil wouldn’t strike while he was watching. Pruitt mentioned George Washington serving for 8 ½ years and in that time only spending 3 or so days at his home, Mt. Vernon. In the 200 years plus between George Washington and the Marine, much has changed, but service men and women have always been there keeping us safe.

Although President Calvin Coolidge was a man of few words, he had much to say on November 11, 1928, in a speech marking the 10th anniversary of the Armistice. The address paid tribute to those who served and sacrificed in a time of war while he also discussed the cost of war to a people and a country.

Coolidge said, “Our first thought, then, is to acknowledge the obligation which the nation owes to those who served in our forces afloat and ashore………the place of honor will always be accorded to the men and the women who wore the uniform of our country – the living and the dead.”

Wednesday, November 1, 2023

Kewaunee County: It's Not Your Grandpa's Halloween

Halloween, witches, ghosts, and skeletons go together. But not all the time. While Kewaunee County history does not appear to support witches, there are stories of ghosts and the paranormal. Over the years, numerous skeletons have been found. Some were said to be Indian, and likely Potawatomie who inhabited the area before relocating, or being driven out. Some skeletons are felt to be those who were hastily buried in outbreaks of cholera and diphtheria. Others are mysteries.

One of those mysteries was reported in April 1906 when, on April 5, William Schmidt’s Town of Pierce barn was burned to the ground, but not much attention was paid to it. At first. As workmen cleared away debris, they found a male skeleton in the ruins. It was supposed the skeleton was that of a young man who had been released from the Green Bay reformatory. He was seen in Algoma the day prior to the fire and he was noticed him going south. It was supposed that tramps in the area were responsible for the fire and for the death of the man who was known to have money when he was in Algoma. Money was an incentive for such a crime and although County District Attorney ordered an inquest, it was not held.

Algoma’s Ben Boettcher brought the charred skull to Dr. Rice who said the remains were definitely human. Searching for further evidence, Boettcher and Mr. Schmidt found the rims of spectacles and some pant buttons.

Some felt the unknown man accidentally set fire to the barn in which he sought shelter and was unable to escape. Others felt it was the tramps prowling the area. Who knew?

Other skeletons were not the bones of John Brown, but rather those of Indian people from year earlier.

While street commissioner Marr and his crew were taking gravel from the city gravel pit in October 1904, they found numerous skeletons. Citizens brought lights and dug, finding what they felt were the remains of 7 people. Being in such poor state that they could not be removed, they were left undisturbed. Older folks believed that there was an old Indian burial ground in the vicinity and it was expected more skeletons would be unearthed.

As Louis Fellows was excavating a basement under his Fremont St. home in October 1926, he found human bones that were thought to be from the days the area was populated by Indians.

Men excavating at the Two Rivers Hamilton plant in April 1927 unearthed a rough box holding the skeleton of a man. Old settlers believed the man might have been a victim of cholera which was prevelent in the early 1850s. It was known that during the epidemic, bodies were buried in the area of the city where the box was found.

In January 1928, a skeleton was dug up at the north end of the government yards in Kewaunee. It was noticed as a skull protruded from a portion of an excavation which was caving in. Digging indicated the skeleton was in an upright position and was not dug up for fear of disturbing the remains. Being Indian bones, it was felt they were Potawatomie who had inhabited the area. History suggests the man might have died during an Indian battle known to have taken place on the site.

Finding a skeleton in the gravel shore near Two Creeks in June 1933 led to hopes that the disappearance of a Two Creeks man a year earlier would be solved. After investigation, the mystery remained when it was determined the skeleton was of that of an Indian felt to be buried in the sand for scores of years.

The same paper carried an article about a skeleton found at Frank Husnik’s gravel pit east of Ellisville although old settlers could not remember burials in the area. The body appeared to be buried without any protective clothing and was only a foot below the soil. Clarence Robillard took the skull and parts of the skeleton to Kewaunee for examination. The shape of the skull led to the belief that the person could have been an early type of human. After the bones were displayed at the Enterprise office, they were sent to a museum for analysis.

A few of the skeletons were found in October. Had there been more, it would have added to Halloween in Kewaunee County where much changed over 150 years.

Things were unusual in 1889 when Ahnapee girls devoted their time to playing practical jokes that did not cause harm, thus casting caution to the wind on the night when the Record said maidens walked downstairs backward with a mirror in front of them, or walked barefoot around the block while carrying a cabbage stalk. Say what? Folklore says that’s how one discovered the identity of a future husband. First it was seeing the man in the mirror and then face-to-face. Halloween seemed to be an unusual time to foretell a husband, but perhaps it was black magic.

Ten years later the Enterprise told readership to take care of  gates because the following Monday was Halloween, the evening when the boys turn everything upside down. Apparently the news was out that they were already making plans for their raids.

In 1899 Mrs. August Boedecker entertained the ladies in the parlors of Algoma Hotel on Halloween. The women enjoyed cards and games and sampled refreshments served on a table decorated in an "odd manner" and set in the sign of the cross. Guests were served by waiters dressed as ghosts. Most of the guests were married, but at least 2 of the 3 single women were teachers. Did they come as spinsters? The parlor mentioned was most certainly the “ladies parlor” where women could order whiskey or such beverages to enjoy with their cigars. It was a room for ladies only.

An Illinois appellate court had an impact on Halloween 1901 when it ruled that “the citizen is entitled to protection at the hands of the city.” The court ruled following the destruction of $900 worth of coal at Spring Valley in 1900. Taxpayer money was to be used for more stringent police surveillance on Halloween as damage or destruction caused by “Halloween hoodlums” would be paid for by government. In 2023 dollars, the coal would be worth about $34,000.

Nobody in Kewaunee forgot Halloween in 1903 as throughout the city young folks held “high revel” with the residential area experiencing most of it. Most pranks were harmless although the Enterprise there were many which should be punished. Even though extra police were out, they could not keep up with those who were out for “sport.”

Halloween – the night most dreaded by property owners - passed in such a manner in 1910 that the Record hoped the future would bring such occasions. Whether it was extra police or a lack of interest, Algoma was relatively unscathed. Soaped windows were the worst of it and although some sewer pipes were stung over sidewalks, nothing was vicious. Devilishness was always worst at the school, but, the Record with the swinging of the cop’s Billy club, the place looked like a Quaker meeting house. The city breathed a sigh of relief. 

But Kewaunee was not quite so lucky. The Record told readership that Kewaunee area resident Frank Peroutky was not forgotten when he was awakened by gunshots and ringing bells near his door. Lewis Johnstone didn't have much trouble as he was running for assembly and out being seen and pressing the flesh at the party at Schmitz’ hall.

Casco was looking at legal action in 1919 after a mob of about 75 men and boys almost turned the village upside down. They weren’t content with soaping windows, ringing bells, and destroying gates, but, the paper said, they overturned all small buildings in town, threw stones through windows and insulted townsfolk who attempted to stop the destruction. The worst of the vandalism was the burning of George King’s corn crop. The fire was put out, however the stacks and cobs were in such bad shape, they were useless for feeding. The paper admonished residents and said it was time for parents to watch their boys because if a boy was not home in the evening, what was he up to? What about the men?

Things changed in 1927 when Opera House manager, Charles Schneider, announced a free movie for Kewaunee children in an attempt to keep kids from the vandalism and lawlessness of previous Halloweens. Schneider said the children would be highly entertained, and asked parents to have their children at home immediately after. Both business and civic organizations worked together to provide an entertaining evening that did not include criminal activity.

Where once Halloween was a festival of the saints, the day became one that was lawless, destructive, and filled with crime. When the Kewaunee school system said it had a duty to train good citizens and promote a “sane” Halloween, it said all organizations could be of assistance. The school planned to have teachers emphasize the source of school monies, the good will of the community, respect for property and more.

During the 1930s, Kewaunee Postmaster Wright got to the office the day after Halloween and stopped dead in his tracks. Recent Halloweens had lent a false sense of security so when Wright looked up expecting to see a fluttering flag, he saw an old-fashioned chamber pot – a “pot de chambre” or “mug de toilette” in the place of Old Glory.

The Enterprise felt such sacrilege had to be a first in the U.S.  Chamber pots were like kids – neither to be seen nor heard – but there it was at the corner of Ellis and Main St. for all to see. The paper reported that Wright let out a roar that Uncle Sam, the Army, and the FBI would be called to find the guilty. He said nobody could “pull a potty” and get away with it. He was about to call the Coast Guard and the police when George Flaherty came into view.

In 1935, the Enterprise editor was waxing nostalgic with tongue-in-cheek when he said gone were the days when Trottman’s dray wagons could no longer put on residential porches, and there were no swinging gates with removable hinges that were easily removed. There were no wooden sidewalks pulled up and dumped on someone’s doorstep. And when horses disappeared from the scene, the horseshoe nails couldn’t be used to trick the innocent. Indoor bathrooms meant the one family two-holers were not places of dread on November 1.

J.H. Kampo, Enterprise manager, said there was no appeal for the days of yore when citizens spent two weeks in November trying to locate their chickens. No doubt the paper’s musings prompted the devious to plan future Halloweens. Citizens not only lost chickens, but their iron lawn deer and clotheslines also disappeared. One year, a 200’ rope was attached to the Congregational church bell and then the rope was pulled down the lake bank. The bell was rung by “remote control.” After the church was relocated, the bell ringing became a non-issue because the church no longer had a bell. Back in the day, culprits kept Chief of Police Orin Warner downtown while their “associates” climbed into the school belfry to ring out freedom across town.

The Enterprise saw Halloween as a national holiday and a national disaster which had gone away. The paper felt soap manufacturers and mask makers “so defiled the true pioneering spirit of American youth” that even a carved pumpkin has (in 1935) become obsolete. The paper went on to say that the old-fashioned Halloween was gone, and “we mourn its passing with cheers.”

By 1938, the Enterprise said the art of Halloweening was on the decline due to police presence and community parties that kept the young entertained. The Enterprise opined even the passing of the old three-holers changed things. Still, citizens remained nervous. remembering the days when boys put one of Butch Trottman’s wagons on top the light house at the end of the government pier. The prank kept government engineers busy for weeks wondering how it could have possibly been accomplished without a derrick. Then too, there was no commotion that would have brought attention.

Kewaunee’s Fine Arts Club enjoyed a hard time party in the school gym in 1944, playing games such as pin the tail on the black cat. The gym was decorated with pumpkins, corn stalks and more while Jane Swoboda pulled fortunes from an iron kettle hung over glowing embers. As guests were led through the chamber of horrors, they came upon the remains of Ichabod Crane while hearing the clanking of chains and groaning and moaning of ghosts. Doughnuts and coffee were served during the evening that ended with dancing games and music provided by such musicians as Earl Shane, Gordon Thoreson and more.

Who’d prank the police chief on Halloween? In 1945, somebody got Chief John Lischka when all 5 tires on his vehicle were punctured in Kewaunee. If the guilty was ever caught, he surely got the proverbial book thrown at him. Not good to go after a police chief.

When a “For Sale” sign on the courthouse in 1959 caused a little head-scratching, it turned out to be a Halloween prank that was far more mild than 50 years earlier. Schools also sported such signs.

Kodan’s history of Halloween mayhem is legendary, and the school was targeted in 1960 too, but it wasn’t the outhouse that was tipped that year. After the board played its own prank years earlier, out-house moving became a thing of the past!

School was cold when teacher Ruth Draves arrived that 1960 day. When she checked, she found the copper tubing on the fuel tank hanging below the spigot. Whether it was a  Halloween prank or whether somebody drained the oil was not immediately determined. Whoever did it pinched the cut end so that not all oil would drain. They also turned off the spigot. The school board and Sheriff Legois were called. When the kids got to school dressed in costume, they were not deprived of their party as Mrs. Draves rounded up enough electric heaters to keep the kids warm until the tubing was replaced.

For over 100 years there were pranks – many vicious. Then came trick or treating. Northeastern Wisconsin was tricked in 2023, but not by celebrating kids. It was the weather. Some areas only got an inch of snow, but those tricked the most got 4” of the white stuff. Kids wore warm clothing over costumes they planned for weeks. When kids knocked saying, “Trick or Treat,” it was Mrs. Santa greeting them with a “Merry Christmas.”


Sources: Kewaunee County newspapers