Kewaunee County & the End of the Vast Pine Forests

War of 1812 veteran Major Joseph McCormick was already living along Lake Michigan, in what would become Manitowoc County in 1836, when area Pottawatomie Indians made him aware of lands to the north. He and a party of men ventured north in 1834 to what, years later, became known as the Ahnapee River. Somehow their sailboat crossed the sand bar at the river’s mouth and the men  reported going nine miles up-river, as far as today’s Forestville where they named a small island in honor of McCormick.*

McCormick's party found the richly forested area quite favorable, and McCormick felt the north side of the river near Lake Michigan would be a fine place for a city. For whatever reason, neither McCormick nor any of the others returned within the next few years and Kewaunee County was not permanently settled until June 28, 1851 when John Hughes and William Tweedale brought their families to make a new home. Orrin Warner followed with his family a week later and thus was the beginning of today’s Algoma and the permanent settlement of Kewaunee County.

Men had been coming and going in Kewaunee County before that, however. They were lumbermen. Surveying of what became Kewaunee County began in 1830s when the flow of the river eventually known as the Kewaunee was the most prominent feature in the geographic area that would form the county. That prominent feature was to play a huge part in the county’s economic development.

Mouth of the Kewaunee River, 1836 map

Surveyor Joshua Hathaway and his friends bought large tracts of the heavily timbered land along that river and around the area that is the City of Kewaunee today. They were speculating. Hathaway sold water rights to Montgomery and Patterson of Chicago, and in 1837 Peter Johnson was hired to build a sawmill, however the mill owners failed to provide support during the winter and workers went on foot to Green Bay, narrowly escaping death, documented in Peter Johnson's letter to Hathaway dated January 12, 1838.. There was a little activity and the unfinished mill was deserted for six years when John Volk, also of Chicago, became aware of Hathaway’s search for a sawmill developer on the Kewaunee River. Volk accepted Hathaway’s offer and work began in 1843. It was the timber during the territorial days that principally motivated the land purchases along that river.

Although faced with significant problems, Volk managed to get the mill into operation. Lacking a sheltered safe harbor Lake Michigan captains feared being caught in storms. Almost worse was that the timber had to be floated downstream. Though that doesn’t sound like a big deal, a constantly shifting sandbar made it extremely difficult to get the logs into the lake. (At the time, the mouth of the Kewaunee River was east of today’s Shopko.) When ships were able to load lumber and return with supplies, Volk learned about other timberland at a place called Oconto Falls about 60 miles north of Kewaunee on the west shore of the bay of Green Bay, and he relocated He didn't stay long, however, and during a subsequent illness, he sold the Oconto Falls land and returned to Kewaunee.

Volk was joined by his brother and the two built a pier in 1850 or 1851 after earlier, in 1848, rejecting the idea. That meant people, freight, lumber and, eventually, mail and the development of Kewaunee. Volk once again left Kewaunee for Oconto Falls but that time his relocation was precipitated by Daniel and James Slauson, relative newcomers to the area.

Though Volks claimed they owned countless acres of timber in the area - and effectively drove others off - Slausons suspected Volk mills were processing lumber from stands of timber they did not own. When Slausons couldn’t find official ownership for most of the timber stands at the Menasha Land Office, Volk was challenged to present title. Since Slausons had filed for ownership themselves**, John Volk took the easiest way out and sold the mill operation. The new day around Kewaunee lasted for the next half century.

While they never came close to the operations of Weyerhauser, Knapp, Sawyer, Washburn and other Wisconsin companies existing within the same time frame, by the early 1870s, Daniel Slauson and partner George Grimmer became the county’s largest milling operation. The extent of the timber and what happened is difficult to imagine within today's framework.

In 1875 the Ahnapee Record pointed to the magnitude of logging in the camps around Kewaunee saying that within two years time the supply of pine would be exhausted. The size of the operations can be measured in the approximately 220 jobbers with an aggregate of 500 men that George Grimmer had employed for the season ending by late March 1875. The 500 men had a proportionate number of working teams. That same year C.B. Fay & Co. of Casco produced 2 million more feet of logs than the company anticipated prior to the season’s start.  James Slauson’s brother-in-law Charles Dikeman was another large mill operator, operating in Coryville by 1863. Dikeman was another who greatly exceeded  projections. The paper also said it took about 22 years to reach that point.

Lake mariner Abraham Hall was captain of the Rochester, the first boat on record visiting the lake shore settlements. Before going down on the sands of Two Rivers Point in 1847, Hall's Rochester was engaged carrying lumber from Volk's Mill at Kewaunee to Chicago.  What he did after his boat went down is not clear, however in 1849 he was working at lumbering in Kewaunee. Two years later he was also running a boarding house there, or at least was allowing the traveling public – few though they were – to stay the night.

Artist's Conception, ca. 1870

Born in 1814 in Montgomery County, New York, Hall learned the shoemaking and tannery trades from his father. By age 20 he was farming and buying and selling real estate in his home state. The Panic of 1837 suspended much of his business and in 1842 Hall came west to Racine. He purchased the schooner  Rochester in 1846 and engaged in general lake freighting. Abraham Hall could be called Kewaunee County's first permanent resident. The mill men left and Hall remained, however not in Kewaunee. On April 20, 1852, he began building a sawmill on the south branch of the Wolf River near the site of today's Algoma Hardwoods .Hall’s mercantile was built at the same time and was the first in Kewaunee County. His gristmill followed and was another county first. Hall, called a stirring businessman by Door County historian Hjalmar Holand, is credited with being the founder of Wolf River as a business center.

Kewaunee County saw a number of other large sawmills, the largest of which fits into this blogger’s family history. Just after the Civil War the Scofield Mill at Red River, with its hundreds of employees, had a capacity beyond any other in the county.  Scofield had a smaller mill about a mile south of Dyckesville on a waterfall in an area today called Rock Falls and also operated a larger shingle mill in Door County at what came to be called Tornado.

Fellows' Mill at Foscoro

Sawmills large and small dotted Kewaunee County in the early days. John McNally and his father-in-law Hugh Ritter were operating in Sandy Bay (Carlton) in the 1850s and was one of the earlier mills. Elisha Dean and John Borland were also there operating by the mid 1850s with James Sprague, Adolph Manseau and Hiram Coggswell beginning soon after. Capt. Charles Fellows had Wolf River/Ahnapee business interests but operated his sawmill at Foscoro, an area now called Stony Creek.  J.C. Merrill  and John Axtell were running their Casco mills during the Civil War. C.B. Fay had mills at Casco Pier and in Casco during and after the Civil War. Wells and Valentine ‘s mill was three miles north of Ahnapee and just after the Civil War, Boalt and Swaty were operating in what would become Bruemmerville. Henry Christman’s sawmill was in the Town Montpelier, a little over a mile north of Stangelville. Christman was the postmaster of the place called Montpelier and served from his business. Jacob Weiner began his sawmill business at Coryville just after the close of the Civil War. Joseph Horak had a sawmill at Zavis before 1876 and Alex Trudell and Charles Kalenhofer bought Slauson and Grimmer’s Scarboro mill in 1882. The Bauer Bros. began their Franklin operation about 1891, within the same time period that Albert Heidmann and Knudson were developing their sawmill at Bolt.  Pirvnec and Brandes  and the Albrecht brothers opened their mills near Stangelville. Peter Engeldinger was in Franklin before 1891 as was George Bottkol  in Bottkolville/Euren, John Buettner in Pierce and Grupp at Ellisville. William Baldwin was milling in Ellisville before 1883 and Andrew Hessel was there right after. Hardtke and Brand were also there, however little is known about them. Charles Beitling and David Hill were operating at Casco Pier at the time of the fire while Leo Heppler was at Pierce Lake (now Krohn’s) in the mid 1870s. The 1880s saw the Burmeister brothers milling in West Kewaunee.

Taylor and Cunningham's company was a factor in Kewaunee by the first editions of the Enterprize* in 1859 and Woyta Stransky was not far behind. Red River saw Speer Brothers during the Civil War and S.G. Shirland by 1872, both on the bay shore, and followed by Barrette. Interestingly, Surveyor Sylvester Sibley, Guerdon Hubbard and James A. Armstrong patented land near the mouth of Red River on September 1, 1835, intending to build a sawmill. By 1840, Wisconsin’s first newspaper publisher Gen. A.C. Ellis, Green Bay’s Daniel Whitney and Senator Timothy Howe were involved, but about 1850 Armstrong and Hubbard abandonded the mill.

There were other prominent early sawmills in Kewaunee County and at least ten that were destroyed in the horrific  fire of 1871, Edward Decker’s mill was one that was rebuilt. Willard  Lamb’s sawmill near Casco at Munchenhof was another mill that was destroyed in the fire and rebuilt. It began manufacturing in 1860 and seems to have continued until 1890. Lebfevre at Walhain does not appear to have been rebuilt.

When Hathaway began surveying in the 1830s, the trees were so thick that it was felt they'd last forever. The density is put into perspective in a story found in Ahnapee Record. Wolf River resident Edward Bacon decided to walk from the mouth of the river to his home near Hall's Mill. Using the river was the safest means of travel but for some reason Bacon was foolhardy and walked, completely missing his home. Some how he kept his wits and walked west where he knew he'd find the bay of Green Bay. When he got there, he turned south toward the place that had recently been named Green Bay. From there he walked the path leading to Kewaunee. Reaching it, he turned north and walked along the lake shore to Wolf River, finally reaching his home several days later. It is written that Bacon's family thought he was dead and was overjoyed to see him. Without a doubt, after Bacon's warm reception, he was dead meat for putting his family into such straits!

The vast stands of timber have disappeared and there are few places where somebody would get lost in the county's woods today. However it might be hard to find one's way out of  a herd of dairy cattle. Kewaunee County has close to 100,000 of them. Dairying is the leading industry and the number of cows to people is among the highest in the nation. It was lumbering and its demise and the Fire of 1871 that determined the future, which is what we know today..

*The mouth of the river now called the Ahnapee was east of the Harbor Inn. The river was dredged and straightened years later by the U.S. Engineers. A 9 mile trip is recorded but Forestville is little more than 5 miles from Algoma. The island disappeared before 1900.
**There are 5 pages of 1854 land transactions representing about 100 parcels involving Slauson.

Sources: An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River?, c. 2001; Decker Files and Fay Papers, ARC at UW-Green Bay; Here Comes the Mail, Post Offices of Kewaunee County, Kannerwurf, Sharpe, Johnson, c. 2010; Hjalmar Holand, History of Door County, c.1919; Marchant, Les & Jeanne, Marchant Relatives of Red River c. 1982;  Ruben Gold Thwaites Collections of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin; U.S. Government Bureau of Land Management; Ahnapee Record and Kewaunee Enterprize/Enterprise; Kewaunee County maps

Volk's correspondence is a copy an original letter that was in the author's collection which has been sold.  Photos and documents are in the blogger's collection.

Women of the Plywood: World War ll Years

U.S. Plywood at the confluence of the Ahnapee River and its South Branch

Much has been written about what is now Algoma Hardwoods. Founded in 1892 by Mel Perry as the Ahnapee Veneer and Seating Company and later U.S. Plywood and Champion Papers, it was long locally called “the Plywood.” When the company observed its 100th anniversary in 1992, the celebration included a book chronicling its history, but the book made little mention of the women who kept the place going during the World War ll years. The war and defense contracts brought the company a new prominence and a new kind of employee. To read A Century of Quality Woodworking: 1892-1992 Algoma Hardwoods or old Record Herald newspapers, one would scarcely know area women stepped in to take men's places in production during the war.

During the 1990s, Virginia Johnson interviewed a number of former Plywood women employees about their wartime jobs. After 50 years, their memories were identical.  Collette Gerhart and June Poehls worked in the office while Lyla De Meuse, Millie Hardtke, Millie Nimmer and Helen Brunner were among the plant’s production employees. World War ll Plywood employees were predominantly women, but how many were there? Those interviewed for this project guessed women comprised from 50% to 75% of a work force that numbered about 1,000. Estimations changed with the departments, but it was agreed that the "boat works" was almost entirely made up of women. Former company president Ray Birdsall felt (at the time of the interview) that the information was no longer at the Hardwoods and probably no longer exists.

Whether it was 50% or 75% or more, the women did their "duty” in a way few could understand today, 2015. The men left at the plant during the war were young farmers, those beyond draft age or those with physical limitations and deferred from service. Though the women were not bothered by any kind of harassment, spitting tobacco or snuff was an irritant prompting management to provide sawdust-filled boxes to be used as spittoons. Some of the women remembered sweeping up sawdust only to find what was obviously a spit-out plug of tobacco. During its first 50 years, the very few women employed by the company held clerical positions and were quite likely “type-writers.”

A 1912 twentieth anniversary photo shows all 108 male employees who were given white canes and hats for the picture. Lydia Overbeck, the only woman in the picture, is sitting in a carriage with Edgar Parker. A 1915 picture shows 75 employees, all men. The three female office employees were the only women on a photo dating to 1937. Then, on May 9, 1941, Esther Rosengren was recognized. She was the only woman of the 38 employees who had served 20 years. The winds of war were blowing, however, and the employment of women in Algoma’s U.S. Plywood was about to change.

Women had been employed in the textile factories of the northeast well before the turn of the century and in the breweries of Milwaukee following the heavy German immigration to Wisconsin, but women in manufacturing positions in Algoma, Wisconsin, were largely unknown though Algoma Net Co. had women engaged in sewing or weaving.

Following the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the drafting and enlistment of Algoma's men, and defense contracts, women were hired in manufacturing positions for the first time in the Plywood's history. Area women were thrust into positions they would not have accepted in normal times. Married women, especially those with children, rarely worked outside the home and few single women desired employment in a factory, however this was war. Most women were single at the time of their employment and although married women worked at the Plywood, women whose husbands were still working there were not hired. Seventy years later, young people would find it difficult to understand words such as "duty," "commitment" and "pull together" as they applied to the early 1940s.

For young area women, such as Colette Gerhart and Lyla De Meuse who had just graduated from high school, the Plywood jobs presented an opportunity to work. Other women, feeling "looked down on" because they were not involved in the war effort, quit the jobs they had and went to the Plywood. One woman remembered the nice job she had while working for a wealthy family in Manitowoc. Everything was clean and the food was good. She had her own bedroom and bathroom where she could bathe with privacy at any time. After her brother was drafted, she changed jobs in a show of support for the war. For the same wage, she got dust, dirt and the smell of glue, in addition to boarding with an area family and sharing a bathroom to which she had to carry her bath water. Another woman had just married a farmer and took a job at the Plywood as a means of saving money for the purchase of their own farm. 

The women in the office usually worked an eight-hour day, putting in overtime for the quarterly inventories. The normal workday for production employees was 7:00 - 5:00, five days a week, plus 7:00 to noon on Saturdays. Those working in the boat works often put in additional hours. Working married women were still responsible for the all the household chores they would have been doing during peacetime. Even though they worked 50-55 hours a week outside the home, those women whose husbands had not been drafted did not expect them to help with the household work. There were no microwaves, dishwashers, automatic washers and dryers. Hours of ironing followed washing with a wringer machine and hanging clothing on outdoor lines. The fortunate had a carpet sweeper but many were still beating their rugs and carpets. There were gardens to plant and tend, and food to can. Home freezers were non-existent and though some rented freezer space in the locker plant at Algoma Co-op Co. – known as the Farmers’ Store - freezing produce was mostly locally unknown. Area orchards had crops of apples, cherries and pears that needed picking, although some of that was done by German POWs in Door County. There was mending to be done, socks to be darned and clothing to be made. And, farm women had additional chores before and after work. Millie Nimmer was among those who would schedule her week of vacation during haying.

Lyla De Meuse worked in shipping. As large sheets of plywood came from the clipping machines, Lyla and others would sort the mostly birch or basswood panels that were then counted and sent to other parts of the plant. Other women taped the seams of panels that made up airplane wings. Wing frames were made and the plywood pieces were bent and shaped on them. Three small sheets were attached and then three small sheets were crossed the other direction. Women worked with a partner so together they could plane the wing edges to ensure a perfect fit. In addition to wings, airplane noses were made. The women did not remember ever knowing what kinds of planes the wings and noses were made for, but they felt the noses were put on fairly large planes because they were well over 5 feet in diameter. Cockpit canopy parts were made from a variety of chemicals that were soaked and cooked. The resulting material crystallized and looked like glass. Then it was rolled over a form and baked to form a kind of plastic. Lightweight molded airplane seats were also manufactured. Eighty-five percent of the plywood produced in Algoma was used for fuselage skins. Birch panels were converted into tubes at New Rochelle, New York. The tubes were used for masts to house radar tracking equipment.

Most of the women worked in company’s the "boat works." Boat hulls manufactured during the war were light landing craft for more shallow water.  Few realized the Army boat hulls were one of the largest and most complicated pieces of plywood being made in the U.S. Seven layers of strips about five inches wide were stapled over a form and then glued. When the strips - the first and last layers were birch with five layers of spruce in between - went into the cooker, the heat and glue bonded the layers to form something like plastic.

Stapling was a major job in hull manufacturing and women under 5' 2" or 5' 3" were considered too short to do the work. Staplers were hand operated, forcing the women had to lean over into the hull, something a shorter woman could not do.  Although shorter women, such as Helen Nimmer, were unable to work on the hulls, they were able to stand on ladders to work on the plane noses or wings. Wearing leather bands on the wrists helped make the work easier. Those working on boats worked in pairs with eight women on one boat.

The PT boat carrying General Douglas MacArthur from the Bataan Peninsula to Australia was constructed using materials manufactured at the Algoma Plywood. Molded plywood shells were converted into hulls for Coast Guard patrol boats. One of the 18' molded hulls made for the Army was hung from the ceiling for display at the 15th anniversary of the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.

The women in the boat works, and their boss Adam Gutsohn, were a "big party group." Millie Nimmer remembered Mr. Gutsohn setting up tables with cheese, marzipan and fruit during the workday as "just a nice get-together." Later there would be Plywood picnics for employees and their families, and trout boils at the Dug-Out to reward workers in departments that remained injury free for a specific period. A few years after the war, trout boils became the reward to a department reaching one million man-hours without an accident. Although the women in the office were never included in the trout boils, the male office staff was, but by then male office staff was assisting.

Each woman in the boat works was responsible for her tools which included a hand plane, a linoleum-type knife, stapler and staple puller. It was easy to misplace or lose a tool or have it inadvertently picked up by someone else. Millie Hardtke received a $25 award for her suggestion to outfit each woman with her own toolbox. After that, keeping tools together ceased to be a problem.

Some of the women stood on benches to reach the hollows of the hulls and pushed the benches along with their legs. Consistent pressure on the same spot eventually caused infections. Employees were allowed time to visit the doctors who gave them pills and tinctures to paint on their legs. Then there was getting the glue out of one's hair. One of the women had such a glob of it that it was almost impossible to get out at the beauty parlor.

Women working in the glue room ran pieces of wood through the glue machines. There were no fans at first, but windows could be opened. Glue fumes made some ill, it made eyes water and it made rubber gloves a necessity. Unless employees wore two pair of rubber gloves, their hands would turn yellow, and "Plywood rash" was something many of the workers got. Dr. Nesemann gave shots for the glue reactions and Dr. Herschboeck made a mixture of lotions that took the itch away. All the formaldehyde in the glue prompted the women to feel employees got a little "high" or a "jag" from inhaling. It was felt that imported wood also caused rashes. The smell of glue was always in the plant and while there are men with documented health problems, no one seems to know about the possible effects of the glue on the women. 

Women doing clerical work in the plant and kept track of the bonus system, which was in effect for a time. Bonuses were paid for what was perceived as over expectations. When the system failed and was discontinued in April 1946, the women doing that type of clerical work were laid off, although the female clerical staff remained within the main office.

The women in the office wore skirts and blouses with ankle socks and loafers. Few women wore silk stockings because of the rationing and one who had stockings would never take a chance on running a stocking on wood if it was necessary to enter the plant. Women in the manufacturing positions wore loose, pale blue-gray uniforms, much like today's cover-alls except they looked somewhat like long-johns with buttons down the front and a flap at the rear. The flap was held up with buttons rather than a belt. The women had to purchase their own uniforms but were eventually allowed to wear slacks, long sleeved blouses and sweaters, shoes and socks. Men were never required to wear uniforms.

Men inducted into the war were paid 5% of their 1942 wages as a bonus. The women interviewed all reported receiving less salary than men for the same work. They began working for the minimum wage, 35 cents an hour. After several weeks, they were paid 37 1/2 cents, then 40 cents, and then 47 1/2 cents. A few years later, those who could staple in the boat works received an extra 5 cents per hour. By 1947 – after the war - both women's pay and minimum wage stood at 75 cents per hour. During the war, it was felt that men did a "higher level" of work, though they did the same things, and thus earned more. The women accepted the lower wages because of "duty" and the war. Helen Brunner was one of many with husbands serving in the military and because they were sent their husband's allotment, a lower salary was thought to be acceptable as those women did not "need it." Some women felt the pay was good because Algoma didn't have many jobs for young women. While the women did not remember overtime pay, they did remember paid vacations.

A Record Herald editorial on August 28, 1942, encouraged those seeking employment to take positions in Algoma to help the war effort rather than going to the shipyards. The article pointed out that Algoma's industries could return to peacetime work, thus offering some job security. An October 10, 1942, editorial pointed out that all four manufacturing plants in Algoma were engaged in either "war work or work vital to the prosecution of the war" and "not a single plant was working on non-essentials." The editorial continued saying that while the selective service had taken many of the area's men and would take many more, women were responding and filling the men's places. The editorial view was that the city was "going to have to pay" in directing every effort to doing its part to win the war.

An August 1943 Algoma Record Herald reported that five Japanese planes had been shot out of the air over Guadalcanal by Lt. Murray Shubin flying a Lockheed P-38 Lightening plane for which Algoma Plywood supplied parts. The article pointed out that not only was it a red-letter day for Lt. Shubin, but also for the Algoma Plywood. The workers received a pat on the back in a telegram from the assistant chief of the Army's Air Force staff, Major General Giles. In his telegram, he praised those on the production line who "had done your work exceedingly well and I thought you would like to know it." 

A September 1944 Weldwood News article mentioned the July production rally.  Eight-hundred Algoma Plywood employees attended the rally "to rededicate ourselves as free citizens to an all-out effort to produce war material so vitally needed by our Armed forces." Lt. Com. J.F. McEndry, the Naval officer in charge of the program, emphasized not letting down and keeping up an all-out effort. He said the employees were working for the Navy just as "we are” and their efforts were needed to insure victory.

A program marked the completion of the thousandth boat hull manufactured for the Army. During the program Colette Gerhart sang the national anthem, Algoma high school band played martial music and short speeches were presented. As the Weldwood News pointed out, the 1,000 hulls required over 4,600,000 square feet of veneer. After the veneer was cut up, it was glued or stapled to the mandrels using more than thirty million quarter-inch staples along with 7,000 gallons of liquid phenolic resin glue and impregnate.  The 2,000th hull was completed not long after on June 4, 1945.

The September 1944 Weldwood News gave special mention to the "all girl" lay-up crew for their outstanding record over the year. A single hull consisted of more than 600 pieces of veneer "templated to the proper contour." Millie Nimmer, Elda Gerhardt, Marie Matske, Viola Prust and Ruth Mastalir were the best. The article continued pointing out that Mr. Gutsohn was reluctant to have an "all girl" crew but he admitted to being wrong. The crew worked to "high standards on exacting jobs." In addition to handling and laying up the veneer, they drove 6000 staples a day, an accomplishment considered a "good muscle builder."

That same September 1944 Weldwood News pointed out that Maynard Feld and his staff "las femmes" Leona Schley and Millie Hardtke laid up polyfiber radomes like "nobody's business."  It mentioned Evelyn "Berky" Berkovitz, the mathematician who had charge of the cycles of pressing blankets, cooking the domes, checking densities and other jobs in between. The article went on to indicate the other "girls in the group are coming along fine, are proud of their jobs and seldom are absent." Though the article praised the women’s efforts, 70 years later it comes across as patronizing and condescending.

On April 6, 1945, the Plywood and Veneer Company was presented with the Army - Navy "E" in recognition of its contribution to the war effort. Ceremonies were held before a jammed-packed crowd in the Algoma High School auditorium. Florence Rupp, Myrtle Kalchek, Viola Mathis, Grace Sibilsky and Beulah Meyers were among the eight, who represented employees, receiving pins during the ceremony. 

The "E" award celebration and picnic on August 18th, 1945, was one of the biggest events in Algoma's history. About 2,000 employees and their families plus 200 invited guests shared in the festivities. There was a parade, games, food, dancing and prizes. Dorothy Lemkuhl and factory R.N. Gertrude Brice were among the judges for the games. Edith Birdsall, Loretta Ciha, Edith Rock, Ethel Pflughoeft, Eileen Nell, Mary Spaid, Colette Gerhart, Doris Fox, Suzanne Snerbeck, Vera Welk, Linda Moegenburg and Grace Ebert officiated at tug-o-wars, three-legged races, foot races, peanut races, sack races, and other contests. June Poehls and Lyla De Meuse were on the soft ball team. A week later, on the 24th, service pins were given to all those employed over five years - 161 men and Dorothy Lemkuhl.

A Century of Quality Woodworking; 1892-1992 Algoma Hardwoods indicates that before the women came into the plant, it was stripped of its "calendars and other pictures," but according to the women interviewed, they were accepted. Sexual harassment, as it was known years later, did not exist until after the war when the men started coming home and began taking their jobs back. Although women worked in a variety of jobs, they did not run the big machines. They were not part of management or supervisory staff and those who worked in the office were clerical staff.  As the men returned, most of the women were laid off. A few women remained until the boat works was sold to Wagemaker of Michigan, quitting at that point rather than relocating to Michigan.

All the women interviewed felt their most important contribution to the war effort was being there when needed, supplying the necessary equipment to the fighting men. All of them had husbands, family members or friends in the armed services and they all knew men who did not return.

There were rumors of work being secret. In later years some men revealed they had been deferred due to the nature of their work and had security clearances, however none of the women was actually aware of secret work. The Algoma operation was a branch of U.S. Plywood. Headquarters were in New York and there was always someone from New York or another division around. Only certain people were allowed in the boat works, however one of the women felt the secrets were really in the plane parts. Women in the office did not know some of what was going on in the plant. They did not know what some products were used for and did not ask.  After all, the work was for defense.

As the women of the Plywood during the war years looked back, their feeling was that working women (of the mid-1990s) were more equal to men and had higher expectations. They felt working women of the ‘90s were subject to much more stress and were living in a world where things are always changing. Most of the 1940's women worked hard for extra money but were not career minded. They felt it was easier to "make a go of it" then, but that today's capable women "can do." The women felt if a man and woman applied for the same job, the man got it.  If there were two women applicants, the prettiest one was hired first. 

The October 2, 1942, Record Herald editorial was ahead of its time when writing that Algoma citizens thought about the future of industrial and employment opportunities in order that there be a continued "diversity and balance in industry when the war is over and the peace treaty is signed." Hard as it might be to imagine in 2015, the women who responded to the war employment call helped pave the way for rural women of the future. Their granddaughters and great-granddaughters have opportunities because the women knew they “could do” and did.

Sources: Women of the Plywood: The War Years, c. 1995 and used with permission; Algoma Record Herald;  A Century of Quality Woodworking; 1892-1992; Weldwood News, 1944; postcards and photos from the blogger's collection.

Long-time Door County summer residents Dr. Carl Kannerwurf and his wife Patricia Sharpe were well-recognized postal historians who were intrigued by their explorations of Kewaunee County. The 45 mph signs indicated something, and research indicated the something was generally what had been an old postal community.

Finding places such as Zavis, Darbellay, Royal Creek, Casco Pier and more, were those few had ever heard of.  Curiosity drove them to discover the 45 Kewaunee County post offices documented in the Library of Congress. Years of in-depth research followed. The resulting history is found in Here Comes the Mail: Post Offices of Kewaunee County written by the Kannerwurfs and Virginia Feld Johnson, c, 2010.

Carl first came to Door County in the 1930s when “Pop” bought property along Lake Michigan north of the Sturgeon Bay ship canal. Enamored with stamps, post marks and postal history even as a youngster, he was writing a book on Door Co. when he was “beaten to the draw.” Meanwhile, as residents and tourists do, he frequented Stangelville to buy Konop’s sausage and Krohn’s cheese. Luxemburg meant kolaches and other Bohemian goodies at Don’s Bakery and the scrumptious Belgian pies at Stodola’s. Albert Theys’ and Hillside orchards at Luxemburg meant apples, and cherries came from Wienke’s Farm Market. Renard’s cheese curds – in Luxemburg or at Rosewood – were favorites. Carl was one who knew Algoma fishermen are recorded as developing the now popular whitefish boils out of necessity while on the lake one freezing cold 1930s day. To stop for a bite at Port ‘O Call in Kewaunee means sitting over the water, watching the boats come and go from the marinas into the lake. Kewaunee’s lighthouse is a treasure and going north on Highway 42 into Algoma, Crescent Beach with Algoma’s iconic red lighthouse at the end of the pier is a feast for the eyes. Both places are great photo ops though Crescent Beach is one of Lake Michigan’s best kept secrets. Its boardwalk, with its benches, offers a chance to walk the beach, picnic, go for a dip or just relax with something special from von Stiehl Winery.

One could almost say Carl and Pat’s forays into the county – and the resulting postal history – came about because of some of the best ethnic foods in Wisconsin. It was in finding communities that are one building, or maybe only a 45 mph sign, that led to Carl’s most recent award. As a late Professor of Electrical Engineering at Northwestern University, Carl’s scientific research has been widely published and he has been the recipient of numerous professional honors. Had he lived to see his latest honor, he’d be beaming while trying to hide it behind a smug little look, like the cat who swallowed the canary.

In honor of his outstanding contributions to philately in Wisconsin, Dr. Kannerwurf was unanimously approved for selection into Wisconsin Philatelic Hall of Fame, 2015. In his nomination, Bill Robinson said, “Carl exemplified both the quiet and studious historian, but was absolutely unstoppable when it came to talking about his specialty. He was a philatelist having serious interests in other collecting areas but the last third of his life was dedicated to Wisconsin postal history collecting, and his book gives testimony to his efforts.”

Waukesha County Philatelic Society supported honoring Kannerwurf who made major contributions to the history of Kewaunee County. The Society felt that the book is a model for other postal historians and said, “It can only be hoped that others will produce similar books about the postal history of other Wisconsin counties.”

The Kannerwurfs’ noted Kewaunee County historical collection has been donated to the Area Research Center at University of Wisconsin-Green Bay, to Wisconsin Postal History Society and to other appropriate places. Scanned images of much the collection can be found at Algoma Public Library. All sales proceeds from the postal history and its follow-up Yours Truly, from Kewaunee County, a collection of old picture postcards, is directed to the Kannerwurf-Sharpe endowment at Algoma Public Library where monies are designated specifically for updates in Kewaunee County local history and genealogy.

Here Comes the Mail, Post Offices of Kewaunee County and Yours Truly, from Kewaunee County are available at the Lighthouse Gift Shop in Kewaunee, Village Kitchen in Casco, Krohn’s Dairy Store in Luxemburg, Heritage Hill and Bosse’s in Green Bay, Algoma Public Library and Amazon.com.

To learn more about Wisconsin Federation of Stamp Clubs and more, go to www.wfscstamps.org. The site will lead to many others across the country.

Commercial Fishing, Boiling the Nets and Grandpa in a Tree!

Huge tripods suspending large cast iron kettles over a blazing wood fire bring up images of Halloweeen and witches' brew. Halloween would come 7 months later though. Those bubbling cauldroms meant serious business and there would be time for another kind of brew after the fires were out and all was packed up.

Junior’s dad was home for the weekend. As a deckhand who eventually made captain in the U.S. Corp of Engineers, his winter work included repairing the tugs – lots of painting – or sounding the local waters, supplying information for government charts. Winter work often allowed him to be around on an early spring weekend or two, something that didn’t happen from then on until late fall. It was a time when he could help his father and brothers in the family’s commercial fishing business. The fishnets needed cleaning and there was work to do. Grandpa and the uncles, and all the commercial fishermen, used gill nets for ice fishing all winter.

Just after dawn one frosty Saturday morning, Junior and his dad packed the family Model A and headed for Little Sturgeon Bay. By the time they reached the net cleaning area, steam from the boiling kettles was already rising above the cedar trees. Everybody was hustling and bustling in an almost carnival atmosphere as the various fishermen’s families took turns throwing logs under the big black kettles mounted on tripods while the men dunked their nets in the kettles of boiling water that dotted the bay shore clearing. All the while, the strong smell tar permeated the spring air.  Whether the tar was being used for coating lines and equipment as a preventative or to generate more heat in the fires is something Junior forgot. Perhaps it was both.

Teams of horses stood by waiting to pull the wagons full of nets. Jumpier than usual, some teams shied nervously as they backed their loads near the steaming pots. It was spring and they weren’t getting needed exercise. All winter long the horses worked with the fishermen, getting nets and supplies distributed around the area bays and then hauling boxes of fish off the ice to market distribution points. Before long the same horses would be taking up their summer jobs - working on farms. Right now it was between the big work seasons. Understandably the horses were nervous. Fire, steam and all that commotion didn’t help.

After Junior’s family took their nets from the boiling pots, their winter season was over – at least after the horses and wagons hauled the nets to Sturgeon Bay for use on the Lady Marie, the family’s fishtug. But, as it turned out, there was a little more to that fishing year.

Once the net boxes were loaded on wagons and the team had to begin pulling, it became obvious that the horses were even more jumpy. As a lumber camp teamster and a graduate of a horse short course at University of Wisconsin, Grandpa was an experienced horseman. Sensing problems, Grandpa sent Junior’s dad to Sturgeon Bay for the family truck so some of the net load could be transferred to it. Getting up  the hills on the way back toward Sturgeon Bay was hard work, and Grandpa feared a runaway.

As soon as Junior’s dad was underway in the truck, Junior and his cousin were told to hop on the back of the wagon. They were instructed to jump off immediately if the wagon picked up speed. Even partially loaded, a runaway was a possibility. Riding on the wagon was fun for the boys who enjoyed themselves as they went east through the farm country toward Sturgeon Bay. Just about the time the boys were taking things for granted, Grandpa brought the wagon to a stop and told them to get off. They were at the foot of a hill just before the little country airport, and Grandpa wasn’t sure of the team on the grade. With the boys walking behind, the wagon started forward. But just then Junior’s dad came over the hill driving the red truck and scaring the team which took off running in a flash. The dreaded run-away!

The wagon was bouncing, net boxes were flying and Grandpa was standing, trying to rein in the team that was racing toward town with the boys running in hot pursuit. In what seemed like only a few seconds the wagon was an empty while Grandpa was still pulling on the reins. As son as Junior's dad was able to turn the truck around, the boys jumped in.  The truck was chasing the wagon which remained upright for over a half mile before it flipped over into the ditch, pitching Grandpa into the air. As the hitch broke free of the wagon, the wagon continued down the road when the limb of a tree drove through Grandpa’s Navy pea coat, leaving him hanging in a tree!

The horses kept going until a farmer far down the road stopped his vehicle to try to approach the team on foot. As it neared him he was able to grab one of the bridles, thus bringing the hitch to a stop. Grandpa got out of the tree uninjured. And the pea coat? It made quite a mending job for Junior’s mother a few days later. 

The boys were safely home before the nets and net boxes were all retrieved, but the vivid memories of that wagon on its side in the ditch with front wheels spinning and Grandpa hanging in a tree at the edge of a swamp are the images forming never-to-be-forgotten family memories.


Left: Net drying racks and net mending needles. Nets needing repair are mended as they are reeled on to the racks.

Sources: Paintings, or parts of paintings, are used with permission from the artist N. Johnson. Photos are in the family collection

Windmills - Everything Old is New Again

Standing high on the hill on Algoma's north side, St. Mary's Church is on the navigational charts of Lake Michigan. Built to guide and protect the souls of its members, the church guides mariners as well. Across the peninsula, sailors in the bay of Green Bay know they are off Dyckesville when they spot the Rosiere windmills in the distance high on the bluff on the east side of the bay, windmills guiding sailors while protecting the environment with clean energy. On a good day, it’s even possible to see the windmills far beyond the bay’s east shore, nearly to Rio Creek.

Recent years have brought talk about building windmills in Lake Michigan off Algoma. Advocates for off-shore wind turbines weren’t thinking about guiding mariners but they were thinking about the energy producing windmills, perhaps like those in the North Sea. Windmills aren’t anything new. There was a time when Kewaunee County was dotted with them. Algoma, Casco, Kewaunee and Luxemburg had more than a few. Reminiscing with the old Peter Allen song lyrics - Everything old is new again...."

Wikipedia tells us windmills were first recorded in Iran, near the Afghanistan border by the 9^th century, and perhaps even as early as the 7^th. It was the 12^th century before they were documented in Europe. As early as the American Revolution, windmills were used on Cape Cod, pumping seawater to make salt. Nearly 100 years later a Scotsman used a wind turbine to power his “holiday home.” Offering to sell his surplus to the city for streetlights, he was rejected as some felt such a thing was the devil’s work. Electricity still seems like magic.

At first windmills were used to grind grain and pump water, which is no doubt why they caught on as they did in the American Midwest. As regions of the country saw water supplies sinking, wells had to be dug deeper and deeper making it increasingly harder to pump. And, a farm's value was enhanced when labor-saving wind power was used for the previously labor intensive feed and grain cutting

Original U.S. windmills generally had four paddle-like wooden blades. Newer technology brought mills with thin wooden slats nailed to wooden rims and a “tail” that directed it into the wind, something like a weather vane, or a sailboat rudder. In the years between 1850 and 1900, over 6 million windmills were built in the U.S. alone and Kewaunee County was not left behind. As late as the 1950s and 1960s, a ride through the county's countryside brought sights of farm windmills and perhaps a small windmill or two mounted on a roof. Some type of windmill was found on most farms and, like barns and silos, the almost iconic structures are fading into history.

1883 Birdseye Map section

Ahnapee Brewery was using a windmill for grinding malt and pumping water before blacksmiths Thomas Fergus and Herman Haucke repaired it in January 1880. The arms supporting the oblique vanes - or sails that gave the mill its motion when the wind blew on them - and the gearing had been badly worn. New ones were necessary. Since this job was the first of its kind in the city, the city appears to not have had many other windmills at the time.

Frank McDonald was on the cutting edge among home owners on 1891 when he erected a windmill to provide water for his Fremont St. residential property. His home featured piping. The Ullpergers were not far behind. In an April 2005 interview with this blogger, Sy Ullsperger said the brick for his family’s 1896 home came from the brickyard and that the yard had a windmill for mixing cement. Storm’s was the yard, and photos show the brickyard having a windmill although it was possibly there when Albert Boettcher sold his business to Ferdinand Storm and Emil Witte in 1896.

 

1901 Advertising

Knospe Bros. – the farm implement company – sold Aermotors, a windmill geared for attachment to any kind of machinery. A few years prior to 1900, the paper opined that windmills were seeing such wide use that it wouldn’t be long before most farms would have one. Fred Heier/Heuer bought one of Haney’s Monitor windmills in December 1899 and expected to put it to good use on his Town of Ahnapee farm. Heuer’s windmill had a 14’ wheel that was expected to furnish enough power to drive a feed cutter, feed grinder, cream separator, wood saw and pump.

By November 1895 the windmill for the new Ahnapee and Western Railroad water tank was in place near the depot supplying locomotives. The old tank near the 4^th Street Bridge was taken down, however it is unclear if it too had a windmill. In spring 1898 the Ahnapee and Western water tank and windmill were taken to Casco where the water was far better. Algoma’s water often caused the boiler to foam thus making Casco a more convenient location. The equipment was put up at Ahnapee (the city's name then) before the railroad was extended to Sturgeon Bay.

Walter Knospe apparently felt that a man selling and installing the popular windmills should himself have one because in 1904 he added a windmill to his own building. As one of Algoma’s most successful implement dealers, he was selling Aerometer windmills as early as 1899. When Jule Defnet got a windmill for his well, it was Knospe’s popular model. Henry Jennijohn/Jennerjohn and M. Miller followed suit.

Knospe customers Peter Duerst and Andrew Laubenstein had their windmills put up in February 1903 when the paper commented on the men’s understanding of such technology. It didn’t take long for Duerst’s mind to change as the “hustling farmer” traded his two windmills to Haney-Gaspar-Ihlenfeldt in 1907 when he bought a 6 hp gasoline engine to drive his feed cutter and wood saw. Duerst bought a manure spreader at the same time but it was definitly not run by wind power. When Knospe installed windmills at Kolberg in December 1904 for William Guth, L. Boettcher and A. Ullman, each man had two working windmills on his farm. It was said each believed in using nature’s forces while saving their own for better days. Joe and Frank Wacek put a windmill on their Woodside farm in 1900 and Joe Bie felt he would have an exhaustible supply of water with his. Pierce Town’s Charlie Toppe’s windmill furnished water for man and beast as did West Kewaunee's Anton Kollross and John Kunesh. Ahnapee’s Karl Lineau and Adolph Feld depended on their windmills for the operation of their dairy-milk route businesses. Not only were farmers making use of mechanical energy, the Record noted all the wood sawing going on throughout the area, some with windmills providing power and others powered by an engine. Wind power was here to stay.

Looking around the county, other businesses were also employing wind energy. Theodore Tronson was using windmills to provide power to his sawmill business at Silver Creek. Several years later, a September 1897 Enterprise reported Kewaunee’s Hotel Erichson was putting up a windmill to pump water. An early 1900s postcard photo of Anton Grassel’s buildings at Sharp Corners - the northeast corner of today’s Highway N and Rendezvous Road at Neuren - show a windmill. The post office was in the section behind the tavern in the foreground. The sign right of the windmill says “store.”

John Teich was said to be an expert on windmills when he installed Herman Teske’s in January 1902, but there were other experts besides Teich, Knospe and Haney. Wenniger, Bohne, Loberger and Retzlaff are names that stand out in Kewaunee County’s pump business, but not all built the tall metal windmills. Caspar Loberger’s pump and windmill business was operating on Luxemburg’s Main Street in 1912, however he moved to Oconto the following year. Wenniger’s wooden – and then iron - pumps were manufactured in the building that became his saloon on the north side of Algoma’s 2^nd Street bridge. Bohne had establishments in both Algoma and Kewaunee. Retzlaff operated from Luxemburg and is a name long-recognized in well-drilling. Haney Bros. of Algoma and Kewaunee advertised. While some of the companies manufactured pumps, not all installed windmills.

Today’s windmills are far different than those popular in Kewaunee County a century or more ago. They no longer dot the county, however several county sites sport wind farms with any number of sleek three-blade windmills. Here and there, residents have their own windmill and sell their unused power to the power companies. Will windmills be built in Lake Michigan?  It’s anyone’s guess.

Sources: Ahnapee Record; Algoma Record; Commercial History of Algoma, Wisconsin, Vols. 1 & ll, c. 2006 and 2012; Interview with Sylvester Ullsperger, April 2005; Yours Truly, from Kewaunee County, c. 2013; 1912 Kewaunee County Plat Book.

Field Daisies & Christmas Trees: A Wedding & A Divorce

Traveling rural roads, this year’s eye-popping fields of wild daisies are sure to bring smiles. The glorious field daisies are earlier and far more prolific than in years. Field daisies bring to mind the stories of weddings 100 and more years ago when wildflowers graced the bouquets and decorated the tables of wedding feasts served at the bride’s home. Such was the wedding of A.J. and Mae.

Daisies abounded at the July 1913 wedding, a wedding that almost didn’t come off. The bride was sick, but the daisies had been picked. The cow was butchered and though some of it needed cooking, much of the food was ready. Sick or not, the wedding couldn’t be postponed. How would guests be contacted? What would happen to all that food? Flowers could always be picked again, but probably not the daisies.

The wedding went forward, but had there been colored pictures in those days, the bride surely would have looked green. As it was, she didn’t look over-joyed.

A.J. wanted to marry Mae and farm, however he had little money and Mae was in mourning for her father. His brother lived near Rio Creek where A.J. got a job in early July 1910, working with a crew of carpenters and builders. March 1911 found him in Milwaukee seeking employment, gradually finding a job. His rooming house at 7^th and Clybourn is now under the freeway interchange. Milwaukee was far away in those days and much of the courtship was via the mail.

Born in Sheboygan, A.J.was a child when his parents moved  to a farm near Carnot. As his siblings, A.J. had a remarkable musical talent, being accomplished on the violin and on a number of brass instruments. He and his brother Gus played with others in several brass bands, although A.J. played singly or with another as a two-man band. One cold Tuesday night in February 1912, A.J. and Charles Hoffman played for a surprise party in honor of Mae's’ family friends Mr. and Mrs. Ed Raether. Though it was a Tuesday, they played until midnight when the guests had a sumptuous lunch before going home. No doubt all in attendance were in the barn or in their usual place of work at the regular time the next morning! Morning came well before 7 AM!

Two days before the Raether gathering there was a leap year party at the home of Charlie and Edith Toppe who lived fairly close to the Raethers. It was another surprise party, but this time in honor of Charlie and A.J.. Why? Neither had a birthday. In an evening spent playing cards and dancing, A.J. furnished the music at his own surprise party. Throughout the year he worked a job by day and played many evenings until 5 days before Christmas when he left for Long Lake 5 days to spend the winter in a lumber camp in the north woods. There was money to be made. Often Mae's’ guests included A.J.’s siblings in addition to her friends and cousins, though he was seldom there. A.J. furnished the music for so many parties and dances that one wonders how much Mae enjoyed the social events. It was just prior to their wedding when they began spending more time together.

The paper mentioned the high esteem in which Mae was held. It said nothing about A.J. Though he was a hard-working farmer, it almost seemed as if it was felt she was marrying beneath her station. When Mae got so sick a few days before her wedding, perhaps it was nerves and wondering if she should go forward. But, the daisies were picked and the cow was butchered. It was 1913 and to call off the wedding would have caused talk.

But, talk there was, though not with A.J. and Mae. There were no daisies, but the Christmas tree was up and the trees that brought the smiles also brought memories of another event that happened years earlier.

Just after Christmas the wife of a prominent businessman disappeared. In a day before telephones, it was not easy to find out who might have seen her. Her husband said she’d been complaining about pains in the head and her friends said she was acting strangely for some time. Some wondered if it was insanity and whether suicide was a possibility. Where was she? When there was no sign of her, a group of men formed a search party, combing groves of trees, along the river and the lake shore. But nothing. Then it was learned that her clothing and other items were gone from her home. Folks realized she was not dead but had left her husband, perhaps going to live with relatives in another area of the state or maybe even Michigan.

Why would she have left?  Everybody knew her husband was a good provider. They lived in comfortable circumstances in a well furnished home. She had a good name and lived in high society. What could have happened?

About two months later everybody knew. Boys playing in a school’s belfry found a bolt of sheeting and some other things. Somehow the boys knew the woman had sometime before burned such items and brought the articles to her husband’s attention. It was known that about $20 worth of goods taken from the house was found secreted in that belfry. By whom and why? As it turned out, the woman had a close association with one of the school teachers. Searching the teacher’s trunk, Officer P.M. Simon found silverware and other things including items of the woman’s clothing, some of which were expensive. It didn’t take long before everybody knew just how close the association was!

Not long after the paper contained a legal Notice of Attachment demanding payment for the found goods or the teacher’s property would be sold. What happened after that? Anybody knowing with certainty kept it to themselves. It was rumored the couple was together for awhile in Chicago but he eventually went west and she remained alone.

Field daisies, Christmas trees…..

Hotel Stebbins: 158 Years and Still Going Strong!

Rumors fueled by recent news items revolve around the possibility of a new multi-story hotel and conference center in Algoma. If talk is credible, the new facility would be in the heart of the early “hotel district,” now humorously referred to as Algoma’s financial district.  Not long after first settling, the area around 2^nd and Steele laid claim to a number of hotels, however there were several more within a few blocks.

From Kewaunee Enterprize, 1859

Early settlers frequently had traveling strangers stay the night with them until 1856, a mere five years after first settling, A.D. Eveland often had overnight guest and then he began advertising. Tiny Wolf River boasted Eveland's hotel on 4th Street near the river. Eveland was so successful that Mathias Simon built his Metropolitan House on the north side bluff overlooking the entrance to the river. Simon’s structure remains today as a private residence.  Then Mrs. Jane McDonald Loval/Lovell, opened the Union House, an early frame building constructed in 1857 by William Henry and Rufus Ames. Just south the southwest corner of 1st and Steele Streets, Mrs. Loval’s welcoming sign attracted

guests as they trudged up the hill from the harbor’s entrance. As a devout member of the Church of England, Mrs. Loval made good use of her Scotch-Irish brogue in maintaining order during the boisterous winter when the hamlet saw men, including sailors, come to town looking for employment in the big woods. Jane Loval’s husband Jack was one of those sailors.

Wolf River was growing and by 1858 had an astounding five hotels. Speculators David Youngs and George Steele - the men who platted the original town – needed a good hotel if they were going to promote the sales of their land. During the spring of 1857 Youngs and Steele, who was on one of his semi-annual trips from Chicago, offered Capt. Charles Fellows his choice of lots in their new plat if he'd build a hotel costing at least $1,000. Fellows chose the lot on the northwest corner of 2^nd and Steele where a portion of the original hotel remains. Fellows’ hotel was named the Tremont House, likely putting it in the same league as the elegant and famous Boston lodging with the same name.

Capt. Fellows’ Tremont House was a frame "skyscraper" with an attic. A.D. Eveland dug the cellar and furnished stone for the Tremont's foundation while James Keogh built the cellar walls. Other than the shingles made in the area, most building materials were brought from Racine aboard the Whirlwind, the master of which was Capt. Fellows. Racine carpenters Mr. Wood and Mr. Adams did the bulk of the work for three dollars a day plus board. It was work that lasted into the winter of 1857-1858. 

Mary Frances Fellows and her father John L.V. Yates oversaw the construction as Capt. Fellows was away conducting his shipping business much of the time. Freights were low and cargo hard to acquire. Fall-out from the Dred Scott decision plunged the country – especially the northern states - into hard economic times. Squire Yates assisted his daughter and son-in-law by moving into the unfinished hotel in the fall of 1857 and keeping boarders and travelers. But after the building was finished in the spring, lack of business reflected the poor economy. Mary Frances, served as matron of the Tremont House during and following the Civil War, however she spent each summer and fall with her family at Foscoro where her enterprising husband had purchased a sawmill and bridge pier.

Hotel business didn’t appeal to Fellows who hired managers that included some of Wolf River and Ahnapee’s most illustrious citizens, Seymour Palmer, E. Shaw and Capt. Bill McDonald. Capt. and Mrs. Fellows later built a home almost next door to the hotel, just south of the intersection of 2^nd and State Streets, the site of the bowling alley today. After Fellows sold the hotel, it was owned by a succession of the community’s residents, later becoming the Ahnapee House, Weilep’s and eventually the Hotel Stebbins, which remains today. It was said John Weilep was the man who turned the business into a money maker.

Today’s three-story brick and stone front section was constructed in 1905 by Frank Slaby who acquired the building in 1898. When Slaby built the new front, the original structure was moved back and to the north along 2^nd Street. Slaby renamed the business to honor State Senator DeWayne Stebbins who died a few years earlier. Over the years, the hotel has been the home of barbershops, a tailor shop, restaurants and a radio station. It is the oldest continuously operating business in Algoma and in all of Kewaunee County. If walls could talk, the remaining section would have plenty to say even though the building has been significantly refurbished and remodeled over its 158 years. The picture on the left appears to date to the Armistice in 1919. Part of the old section at right contrasts with Slaby's addition.

J.R. McDonald built his Kenosha House across Steele from the Tremont in 1858. It became the site of some of the village’s noteworthy entertainment in addition to holding a number of other ventures. Michael McDonald ran his auctioneering business from the Kenosha. He and William Van Doozer operated a mercantile, and J.R. and George Elliott conducted a law office there. The fledgling Ahnapee Record began publication on the second floor in 1873 and four years later Celestin Capelle and his father-in-law, Mr. Dagneau, opened a new store. A year later Maynard Parker purchased Dagneau’s interest to form a new partnership. Franz Schubich’s furniture store was in the building in 1881, followed by Haney Implement in 1887. Frank McDonald ran his photography business in the building until 1887 when he relocated to Kewaunee. McDonald’s existing photographs of Ahnapee are truly local treasures. Joseph Jakubovsky bought the building in 1888 only to have it destroyed by fire in July. McDonald’s building was always filled to capacity and if its walls could talk, it would certainly reflect politics and secrets, local and far beyond.

Advertised as being near the bridge, Meverden’s Sherman House was built across 2^nd Street from the Tremont just after the Civil War when Ahnapee was on the cusp of a boom. The business didn’t last long as the place burned down in 1870 after an attic stove pipe started a fire. By the time contractor Michael McDonald constructed the frame building, the area had seen the rise of brickyards and a few structures were veneered with the new brick. But, some of those buildings also saw destructive fires.

William Bastar's hostelry on the northeast corner of 4^th and Clark, was being called one of the finest hotels in the country in 1883. According to the paper, it was carpeted, well furnished and decorated, offered fine entertainment and the best quality culinary products. The Record said Bastar's accommodations were fine for both men and their horses. Bastar’s establishment sported a sample room in which salesmen could display and hawk their wares to city merchants, a saloon, pool tables and an upstairs gallery. The paper said the hall presented a "magnificent appearance" and was one of which Ahnapee could be proud.

The upstairs hall was converted into rooms for guests and it was not until just after 2000 that new owner Scott and Paula Talamadge “found” it as they were refurbishing the old building. With its curved ceiling, gas light medallions, bandstand on one end of the room and multiple windows, the paper’s glowing comments were easy to understand. One can only imagine the social events held there.

One can imagine something else. During the refurbishing Mr. Talamadge saw something he thought strange. From a perch above the small

bandstand balcony, he saw a number of boxes in about the center of the room, between the curved ceiling and the roof. It was an unusual place for storage. On closer examination he found tubing and other remnants that could have only come from Prohibition. It appeared that the tubing was accessed through the medallions (see left) surrounding the hanging light fixtures.

Bastar was born in Bohemia in 1840, coming to America with his family in 1856. A respected businessman, he was an active participant in community affairs, serving as a notary public, school board clerk and county treasurer. Bastar sold to Louis Kirchman although the hotel has had a number of owners and remains today as the Steelhead Saloon.

William Boedecker's Wisconsin House, located at the southeast corner of 4th and Steele, would later house Boedecker Bros. and Johnson’s drug stores, Koenig’s jewelry, Algoma Produce, Asa Birdsall’s real estate company, Groessl Pharmacy, Groessl-Nesemann Pharmacy, Dr. Komoroske's dental office, Rupp's floor coverings, H & R. Block and more. Joseph Knipfer seems to have been the first recorded person to build on the site in May 1860, however there is evidence to suggest it was the site of Christian Weidner/Wagner’s store before the site was platted.

Boedecker, a carpenter in Two Rivers, had been a hotel proprietor since his arrival in 1871 when he announced that he would take in strangers. His second hotel was erected in 1875 after an April 15th fire destroyed his frame building. Immediately after the fire, Boedecker hired Haag and Simon to construct a temporary building in which to keep his lucrative saloon business going. That the saloon was built in just two days, April 18 and 19, 1875, attests to its popularity. After the hotel was enclosed with brick in August, Leopold Meyer put on a tin roof. Also popular was the hotel’s fine food – from the kitchen overseen by Boedecker’s wife Margaret - and its horse drawn omnibus, which shuttled guests from the dock to the hotel. For awhile Martin Bretl was operating the hotel which was renamed the Hotel Algoma when the city adopted its new name, however it was called Hotel Martin when Frank McCoskey bought it in 1903. The building remains.

Cream City House in background

Charles Henneman's Cream City House, built in 1866 on the southwest corner of Third and Steele, was also destroyed by fire, one that started in a basement bake oven on April 19, 1887. The small, low-voiced, well-groomed Mr. Hennemann found fame with his sumptuous pies for which he charged one of Edward Decker's shinplasters, rather than the nickel the pies cost before the Civil War.

Henneman's marvelous accommodations and exceptional meals were noted in articles over the years. It was said he knew how to keep a hotel and his wife was known for the fine table she set.

It was also said Mr. Hennemann tried to increase his stature by marrying a large wife, an image conjuring up Jack Spratt and his wife. George Wing wrote about the summer day when a Steele Street butcher came flying out of his shop yelling with the exacting Mrs. Hannemann right behind him brandishing his meat cleaver. It seems the butcher had sold Mrs. Hennemann a pork chop that did not meet her standards.

In more recent memory is the old DeGuelle tavern and liquor store on the southeast corner of 1^st and Steele. Dating to the early 1860s when the building served as a small boarding house or hotel, the building was demolished in an upgrade of Algoma’s marina and harbor park. The original building was yellow brick that most likely came from Franz Swaty’s brickyard in what is now the Lake St. hill. Directly east of DeGuelle’s tavern was a little yellow brick home owned by Swaty’s daughter Julie. When Joe Villers bought the property in 1876, he hung a sign saying “Rosiere House.”

Telesfore Charles/Challe changed the hotel’s name to St. Charles House when he bought the place a few years later. The St. Charles House Hotel got very little mention in the local press, however its sale to Mr. Houart in January 1898 after eighteen years of business prompted the paper to take note.

It was not only the proprietors of Ahnapee's hotels who felt they were doing their best: the January 30, 1883, Kewaunee Times reported “that without a doubt Ahnapee had as good hotel accommodations as could be found in any city of its size in the entire state.”

Today’s hotels include the historic Stebbins, Algoma Beach Motel that had its start with Hans Chapek in the 1930s, Scenic Shores, Harbor Inn, River Hills and Barbie Ann Motel. If the Kewaunee Times were still in business, it would probably make the same comment. 

Sources: An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River? c. 2001;  Commercial History of Algoma, Wisconsin,  Vols. 1 & 2, c. 2006 and 2012; Algoma Record Herald, Here Comes the Mail, Post Offices of Kewaunee County c. 2010; Yours Truly, from Kewaunee County, c. 2013.