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