Easter Finery, the Easter Bunny, Eggs and Ahnapee/Algoma

www.hollywoodsgoldenage.com

As early as 1870, there were Easter parades in New York City, the most famous of which is remembered yearly in the 1948 film by the same name. Judy Garland was beaming, wearing her Easter bonnet, strolling down New York’s 5^th Avenue with Fred Astaire, smiling and ready to be photographed for the rotogravure. The Record/Record Herald never had a rotogravure, but it doesn’t mean the city was lacking Easter bonnets. Papers before 1900 advertised spring bonnets while Kohlbeck’s was advertising Easter finery – spring suits and Stetson hats - for men.

Well before World War l, Algoma youngsters looked forward to the Easter Rabbit and Easter candy. Children in the primary grades usually found candy in a nest at school. Often there were egg hunts and contests – such flash card math drills – for candy and egg prizes. The papers admonished boys and girls to get their nests ready. Nests? One hundred years ago, Algoma boys and girls left nests to be filled, not a basket.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pysanka

Where did it all come from? History tells us Easter eggs date to the early Christians in Mesopotamia who used eggs to symbolize the empty tomb. The early eggs were dyed red, signifying the blood of Christ at the crucifixion. The custom spread into Russia through the Orthodox Church and later through Europe. Pysanka  (the Ukrainian wax batik)  Easter eggs are the subject of classes. Faberge’s jeweled eggs created for the Russian tsars are known to most only because of photos.  The church – Pope Paul V - adopted the egg custom as an emblem of the resurrection in 1610.

Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday, Pancake Day, Shrove Tuesday are names for the day before Ash Wednesday and and the beginning of Lent. It was a time to clean up all the eggs which, in the early church, were forbidden during Lent. However there was no way from stopping hens from laying and at the end of the 40 days, there was a huge supply of eggs. Early Christian traditions celebrating the resurrection were no doubt connected with the Lenten regulations. Symbolism remains and many of today’s Christian churches have Easter egg hunts for the children, reminding them of the empty tomb.

Early Christians didnt' have a rabbit delivering eggs, but rabbits are known for their fertility and eventually Peter Cottontail found his way into Easter. The website www.compelling truth.com says, "As hares and rabbits are extremely fertile, it's easy to see why they would become symbols of the season. But the Roman Catholic Church may have had another motive. Ancient legend claimed that hares are so fertile they can propagate asexually. The idea of an entire species that is prone to virgin births would be intriguing, and carvings of hares on various Catholic cathedrals led to speculation that the rabbit was a symbol of the Virgin Mary". Googling the hares indicates they are not only used in carvings on Catholic churches, and the formation of the ears of three hares in a circle can actually represent the Trinity.

History tell us that just as the Germans gave us Christmas trees, it was probably the Germans who brought their egg-laying rabbit called "Osterhase" to America. Their children made nests in which the animal could lay its colored eggs. Discovery.com tells us, "The first Easter Bunny legend was documented in the 1500s. By 1680, the first story about a rabbit laying eggs and hiding them in a garden was published. These legends were brought to the United States in the 1700s, when German immigrants settled in Pennsylvania Dutch country, according to the Center for Children's Literature and Culture. The tradition of making nests for the rabbit to lay its eggs in soon followed. Eventually, nests became decorated baskets and colorful eggs were swapped for candy, treats and other small gifts."

Blessings of Easter baskets is found in early church hisotry. Polish Catholics in Pulaski keep the Holy Saturday custom of their ancestors when they bring decorative baskets containing eggs and food to church. The blessed food is part of the Easter Sunday dinner. No doubt the parishioners at St. Hedwig's at Krok also took part in the time-honored tradition.

Brightly colored baskets have replaced nests made by children generations ago, but today’s children still wait for the Easter Bunny and the candy and eggs he will bring. If the kids – or even the adults - see the egg representing Jesus’ tomb, it could be because of the eggs the pastor brought for the children’s sermon.

Ahnapee/Algoma stores as Katches, Gamble Store, Joanne’s, Wiese, Lucille’s Danek, Brey-Leischow. Brey-Zander, Bach-Dishmaker and more joined Kohlbeck’s in offering Easter finery. For over 100 years Rineharts had the shoes to go with the new outfits. Milliners such as Melchior, Barnes, the Hunsader sisters and  others were there to design the new hats. Some years folks wore their new clothes to the Easter balls. Holub’s Band played at Ed Mauer’s Bruemmerville hall for a 1908 Easter dance. Mauer even offered free transportation between the city (Algoma) and his establishment. Frelich’s Band played at Leonard Meunier’s Alaska House the same year, but Meunier did not offer transportation.

 In a time when folks kept chickens in town, having enough eggs was not a problem, and there were always the grocery stores to provide them. F & A Market had them. So did Katches, the Farmer Store, Cashway, Foteys, Arndts and the Piggly Wiggly. The grocery stores sold candy that could also be found at confectioneries such as Warners, Tietz, Ponaths and more. Only the Piggly-Wiggly remains.

Looking around at Easter this year, one realizes it is a time when the more things change, the more they stay the same. 

Sources: Rev. L. Swenson's Easter sermon; Ahnapee Record/Algoma Record Herald; Black, Vicki K. Welcome to the Church Year: An Introduction to the Seasons of the Episcopal Church, July 2004; Commercial History of Algoma, Wisconsin, Vol 2, c. 2012. Three Hares as a Representation of the Trinity, Threeharesblogspot.com, Aug. 2010.

Fresh Fish: We Didn't Know Algoma was a Gourmet Paradise

Algoma's Fishing Fleet on the Ahnapee River: A Time that Was

Beautifully presented trout, perch and whitefish in glass display cases is mouth-watering. Fish like that brings distant but still fond memories of Toot, Cliff, Art, Joe, Shorty, Barry, Kelly and Frank,  the Bohmans, LaFonds, Pagels, Andersons and more. Buying fish from any one of Algoma’s commercial fishermen meant only the best and the freshest. It was gourmet before we knew what gourmet was.

Trout boil

Algoma kids grew up with the best, and those kids-turned-adults know what the best stores have to offer today generally isn’t good enough. There are lots of places passing themselves off as fish markets and apparently folks are happy with them, but those folks didn't grow up on Lake Michigan. If only the likes of Toot or George Bohman could come back to teach a thing or two about fresh fish. More than a few kids who grew up in Algoma tell about their store-bought, smelly fish going right to the garbage, although digging a hole next to the roses and rhubarb offers gardeners a far better choice.

Kids walking across the bridge to and from St. Mary’s School during the 1940s and ‘50s, and even later, knew what was happening at the shanties. Although the kids were usually too late to see the fish tugs going out, the tugs were coming in as the kids were walking home. There wasn't a kid who didn't know what a net drying rack was and they all knew the fish were cleaned immediately. They knew the seagulls plaguing them were looking for a delicious dinner of slimy fish guts. They also knew to watch it. As hundreds and hundreds of seagulls flew around the bridge, there was surely at least one that dropped “it” on one of the kids. Then there was always the 4^th grade boy who picked up a decaying fish from the bridge deck and started chasing the girls, particularly the one he said the really didn’t like.  Fourth graders boys didn't have it figured out in those days.

Nets drying on racks

Beginning on the few and far between shirtsleeve days of April and into October, the kids would see artists with their oils and canvas set up on the south side of the bridge. The south side offered a vantage point as most of the shanties lined the north side of the river. Kelly and Joe were tied up almost adjacent to the south side of the bridge and Shorty took his tug just beyond it. It was a scene the kids saw daily during their 8 years of school. Painting wasn’t part of the school art classes and surely anyone who would paint fish boats and tugs was from Chicago, somebody with money and nothing to do. The kids looked for fancy cars with Illinois plates. Chicago people didn’t know how to drive their big cars. They drove fast and passed on the right side of the road, so it wasn’t any wonder they’d be painting pictures of old sheds and tugs. But, because big shipments of fish were sent to Chicago markets, maybe some of those Chicago people wanted to prove they knew where the best fish were caught.

When the kids saw the pound (pond) nets off the Campsite, they knew it was mostly herring, and maybe a few perch, being caught. The gill netters went out far enough to net trout and chubs. In the late 1940s, a catch of 200# was big, prompting Goosey to tell stories of lifts of over 1,500# in his dad’s day.

Before World War ll there were over 20 men going out of Algoma, rain or shine, hot or cold. Sometimes it was a deep freeze or pea-soup fog that kept them in the harbor, but mostly the engines were chugging as early as first light to begin a day that was long. The tugs needed to get at least a few miles out before Lake Michigan was deep enough. Each boat had its own grounds and one did not encroach on another.

Then things began to change. World War ll meant a big need at the shipyards and some of the men left for the yards, leaving tugs short staffed. A few years later laws began changing and catches were limited. There were new smoking regulations that left the once deliciously moist smoked chubs dry. As lamprey eels began causing a steep decline in the numbers of big fish, commercial fishermen found few trout that didn’t show a mark from an eel attack. Eventually there were eel traps that began killing them. That prompted a new industry – fish fertilizer. As the DNR started encouraging more and more private fishing, it wasn’t just pan fishing in the state's rivers.  Swaty Creek was developed as a holding pond for the fingerling salmon that were eventually released into the lake. Almost overnight Algoma became a mecca for sports’ fishermen who easily got their limits. Charter fishing sprung up, attracting people from all over the mid-west. Commercial fishing waned and as the men retired, nobody took their places.

Net needles

It took the kids 40 or 50 years to know what they had and what it represented. They tell their kids and grandkids – who really don’t want to listen anyway – what it was like. Most of those 60, 70 and 80 year old kids don’t know what it was like in Ahnapee when the mackinaws were sailing or being rowed out in 1880, well before the coming of the Kahlenburg engine that made for the shape of the fish tugs today.  They forget about the boats stuck in the river ice, or the returning freezing fishermen with icicles dangling from their caps. But if they see a net needle, they’ll know what it is.

When Andy LaFond left the harbor in 2008, an entire industry went with him. Leelanau, Michigan has kept its tar paper sheds and its shanty village is a tourist attraction that speaks of a time that was. The fish tug exhibited at Rogers Street Fishing Village in Two Rivers offers visitors an opportunity to easily learn how such vessels did their job. Art Dettman’s shanty is on the historic register and remains on the north bank of the Ahnapee River. As for the rest, it exists in the memories of those of a certain age and in the paintings of those who didn’t know how to drive, but sure knew what they were looking at!

To learn about commercial fishing from Washington Island to Kewaunee,  find  Trygvie Jensen’s Through Waves and Gales Come Fishermen’s Tales, c. 2009, and Wooden Boats and Iron Men, c. 2007. To learn about Algoma's commercial fishing history, historian Wendell Wilkie has written The Real Shanty Days, a three volume series.

Algoma & the World War ll Victory Houses

As the country was digging its way out of the Great  Depression, housing was one of its great pent-up demands. Marriages had been delayed and many who did marry lived with family members or rented a spare room in the home of a stranger. As for Algoma, it looked as if things would improve when an April 1936 building boom brought expectations of ten or more homes to be built. In addition to reducing the shortages, home building would provide needed jobs.

Alleviating shortages was on the minds of many, and some of the suggestions were most creative. In 1916, even before the U.S. entry into what became World War l, there were thoughts of turning the old Goodrich side-wheel steamer Chicago into a floating boarding house. It was felt that if the boat was piped and heated with steam, its 100 staterooms could provide accommodations for 100-200 shipyard workers during the winter. Expense would be minimal. At least it was an idea that would upgrade one human habitation to another. Some of the upgrades began with what had begun as animal quarters.

Political strife in Europe - that which led to World War ll - also made for jobs, many created by Lend Lease. Then came the Day of Infamy. Countless numbers of couples married before the new husband was drafted, or before he was shipped out. The housing shortage continued.

Shortages had been in the news for years and by 1946 one staggering factoid made newspaper readers aware that the number of big trees destroyed by fire each year could have supplied enough lumber for building 215,000 five-room homes. By then, housing was being addressed, however in August 1948 Wisconsin’s health officer Dr. Carl Neupert expressed his concerns saying shortages were still felt beyond returning veterans. Neupert called attention to the health issues facing doubled up households or families living in makeshift structures. 

As World War ll era production workers relocated to such places as Algoma and Kewaunee, the already acute housing shortage was made worse. New building had been curtailed by the War Production Board, but then came Victory Houses, a square or rectangular no frills home. Depending on where they were built, they were mostly one-story structures of either wood or brick. 

During a 2004 interview, historian Millie Rabas told this blogger and two others how Plywood employees from Birchwood lived in her Kirchman hotel, doubling up in rooms and sharing beds. Sometimes the bed mates had never before met.  Algoma’s already critical housing shortage got even worse when Algoma Plywood announced intentions to transfer its veneer cutting operations from Birchwood.  The city council knew if there was any hope of meeting housing needs, Algoma had to be declared a critical defense area by the War Production Board. The city engineer was instructed to go forward in seeking such approval.

Algoma Plywood announced in August 1942 that it also was attempting to address the housing issue. The Federal Housing Authority eased up on restrictions and it looked as if the city would see as many as 20 new homes. The Plywood kept applications and offered employees information through General Manager G.H. Hunt. The homes were to be built for or by Algoma Plywood and Veneer or its employees only, or could be rented by Plywood employees for the duration of the war. The entire home cost was limited to $6,000 tops. There was also an effort to find buildings that could be converted to housing. There are some today who would be most surprised to learn their home had once served as a stable or barn. A month later the city council approved a plat for a Victory housing addition to the city, and Algoma Fuel Co. began erecting 7 homes for either rental or sale to defense workers.

By October, seven homes were going up in the old city gravel pit property along Division St., Four were being built on the west end of Steele and four more on Church St. The Fuel Company’s Frank Lohrey felt the home on the northwest corner of Division and Washington would be done about the 1^st of December with the other homes being completed at the rate of one a week. It was big news at Valentine’s Day 1943 when the Record Herald told readers that Mr. and Mrs. Hubert Knapmiller and daughter Margaret had just moved from Birchwood to live in one of the Division St. houses. At the same time the Wenniger apartments, across Church

St. from St. Mary’s School, were nearing completion. Six families would find housing in the modern building.

Then there was a new problem. In January 1943 Fire Chief A.F. Meyer discussed Algoma’s 1942 fire calls. There were 14 within the city limits. Damage amounted to just over $215,000, but an even bigger issue was better fire protection, particularly at a time when the city couldn’t meet its housing needs. Growing demands within the city meant a greater emphasis on equipment expansion and  equipment maintenance. Planning was of the utmost importance.

During May 1943 Otto Krueger started the basements for two homes at the bottom of the Church St. hill. One was on the northeast corner of Church and North Water while the other would be across Water St. That one faced north. The houses filled up as soon as they were ready, but still the need existed. Louis Welk was discharged from the Navy in February 1945 and had to remain in Dearborn, Michigan. Although Welk and his wife had planned to return to Algoma, the housing shortage kept him in Dearborn.

In August 1946 Ted Gartzke was named depot agent at Algoma. He was bringing his family, which included four children, from Winona, Minnesota, but there was no place for them to live. The move was delayed. The family did find a home on the Bucholtz farm and was eventually fortunate enough to secure one of the Division Street homes, but by then the war was over. The following August, it was the new football coach, Harry Schwartz, who had a rough time finding a home. Schwartz surely had too much school in his life. The only available place was the Third Ward school, also known as the Irving Demonstration School. When the Schwartz family arrived, the school had been cleaned and made as livable as possible. As so many others, the Schwartz family "made do." When the Louis Leischow family moved into their newly built Kodan farm home, their old home was moved to Algoma to provide living quarters.

Algoma Record Herald editor Harry Heidmann hoped to see the shortage alleviated in 1947. At the time Kewaunee was planning to build 25 new homes to solve its housing crisis. The editor wondered how it would go because all over Algoma there were basements dug, and here and there were foundations. Progress was slow, however, and little was going forward because essential materials were unavailable. Kewaunee had local financing and expectations were that wood could be cut from area woodlots and dried in kilns at local lumber yards. There were assurances that critical materials would be salvaged from government owned projects. But when?

April 1949 brought a new question. Liquor sales brought extra taxes designated for housing projects. Public policy was to stimulate construction where it was most critical. Editor Heidmann was ahead of his time when he opined the best way to build was to give the veteran a house payment from the special fund and allow him to build his house where and when he wanted to. Ten years later, in 1959, housing shortages still came to mind when Record Herald columnist Lois Pflughoeft quipped about the number of housing inquiries the paper got. She said she fully expected to see somebody living in the telephone booth at 4^th and Steele.

Housing and affordable housing opportunities are questions today, however the issues are far different than they were between 1930 and 1950.

Sources: Algoma Record Herald, Algoma's commercial histories Vol. 1 & 2; Cox-Nell House Histories found at Algoma Public Library; Wikipedia; Women of the Plywood, the War Years.

Kewaunee County Recycling: Wool Clips, Binder Twine, Lipstick and Toothpaste Tubes

Buy Local. Re-purpose. Reuse. Recycle. Individual recycling containers go out to the curb along with the garbage cans, and HGTV offers programs using inventive and creative ways to use what some would throw away. Recycling and buying local is anything but a new idea. As for buying locally, before the advances in transportation during the last 40 years, local was the most logical and sometimes the only way to go.

Throughout history, people made do with what was around them. The World War l effort brought such recycling to another dimension while efforts during World War ll are beyond what many would believe today, 70 years after its end.

World War ll came as the world was tunneling itself out of its worst economic depression ever. That followed World War l. As  U.S. residents were finding jobs and digging themselves out of want, the new war brought new restrictions and regulations. There was rationing, and ration books allowed just how much gasoline, meat, sugar, shoes and more could be purchased if it was  available.

Algoma Record Herald, Luxemburg News and Kewaunee Enterprise editorials continually urged county residents to do their part and their duty. Seventy years later, such urgings would fall on deaf ears. Sugar was the first commodity severely rationed. Coffee came from Brazil and that meant preyed-upon shipments by German U-boats. Among the other rationed items were cheese, butter, oil, shortening, dried fruit, canned milk, appliances and more. Rationing helped supply the troops, however such rationing actually helped retailers experiencing shortages. Sometimes the shortages were due to rumors and panics, such as the run on flashlights and batteries immediately following the attack at Pearl Harbor.

The draft picked up even before the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 1, 1941. Production had also picked up, in part due to Lend Lease. Then Pearl Harbor changed the lives of most.

Three months after Pearl Harbor, the War Production Board issued an order curtailing the telephone industry from using “scarce and critical materials.” That meant lead, copper, iron and steel, zinc and more. Algoma’s Phil Dart, manager for Wisconsin Telephone Co. stressed that telephone conservation – which was really curtailing expansion - was most important to the war effort. A few weeks after that, new residential construction was forbidden. Maintenance and repair costing more than $500 was banned. Though agriculture was important, agricultural related construction costing more than $1,000 was also prohibited. Any public or privately financed construction with a price tag of over $5,000 was not approved. It didn’t matter if it was for highways, utilities or institutional buildings. New electrical lines were strung only if it was proven that they were necessary to the war effort. A federal agency was the authority.

By March 1942, selling canned dog food was against regulations thus prompting manufacturers to begin making dehydrated products. It might be hard to believe today but the purchase of a new tube of tooth paste was denied unless the previously used metal tube was turned in. Many combined baking soda and salt to make their own toothpaste. It saved money and by-passed the tubes.

New regulations seemed to come daily. Families hardly had time to deal with being told their new house was on hold or that the dream of having a telephone wasn’t coming before they had to start thinking about something so seemingly insignificant as scrap paper. “Scrap for Victory” began in the schools. Boys in rural schools collected scrap paper while helping farmers collect and pile scrap metal for pickup and sale. Rural school students made surveys of waste materials around the county so the information was readily available when needed. It was a time when the clothing division of the War Production Board set up a wool clip collection. And what was that? Fashionable men and boys wore cuffs on their trousers at the time and the “clips” became available when cuffs were prohibited. The Red Cross collected the clips cut from pants at stores throughout the country.

Binder twine isn’t something most guard preciously, but 1942 farmers certainly did when twine was controlled. It was only available for growing, harvesting or handling farm products, and for sewing grain bags shut. A year later, in 1943, farmers were allowed to purchase as many burlap bags for potatoes as they did in 1941.

The War Board’s survey as late as spring 1944 revealed that only 2 in 4 knew how important waste paper collections were, and that only 1 home in 4 saved the waste paper. In a day when few had file cabinets, documents, letters and so on were stored in attics. Town officers stored the old records in their attics. Where else could they put them? The immense paper drives of World War ll cleaned out the attics, ridding families and townships of their history. Schools began being the pick-up points for the 1940s paper drives and Boy Scouts continued the efforts. The county’s newspapers were affected when the War Production Board cut newspaper consumption by 10%. At the same time Algoma Record Herald told readership that the paper “had gone to war” and would be available by prepaid subscription only. It guaranteed that the paper would not use one more sheet of newsprint than absolutely necessary.

A month after Pearl Harbor Wisconsin industry was said to be converting quickly and efficiently from peace-time to war-time manufacturing while hiring additional employees. Unemployment was decreasing while the cost of unemployment was also going down. Algoma Plywood was building airplane wings and noses in addition to boat hulls, including the hull that evacuated General Douglas Mac Arthur from the Philippines. Kewaunee’s new shipyard turned out boats at an astonishing speed. One of the ships eventually became the U.S.S. Pueblo, well-known as the ship captured by North Korea in January 1968.

Family welfare agencies of the time were directed to do all they could to keep families together. Fighting men had to be freed from family worries and those who were working had to be most efficient. Agencies were to focus on character building in their work with children, thus preparing them for their part in the war effort. Those working with the aged and handicapped were to lead the way in rehabilitating as many as possible for useful war production.

Materials' collections and restrictions brought innovation. With silk supplies being cut off and the silk there was going into parachute manufacture, silk stockings were in extremely short supply. One parachute required the same amount of silk as 2,300 stockings. The stockings of the 1940s had seams in the back and creative women used eyebrow pencils to draw seams on their bare legs. Cotton socks were in short supply and it was known some continued a Depression era ruse and dipped their feet in white paint rather than admit they didn’t have them. Under coveralls or pants, who knew? Then nylon was invented and used for parachutes. It went into women’s stockings which became known as “nylons.”

When President Franklin D. Roosevelt declared war following the Day of Infamy, the army had more horses than tanks. The U.S. Army ranked 18^th in the world, just behind Romania. There was a long way to go but it happened at breakneck speed. Mothers and grandmothers saved tin cans and took them to the pick-up centers. They made kids’ snowsuits and coats from old, worn men’s suits and topcoats. Usable men’s shirts were used to make dresses and shirts for smaller tykes. They saved meat bones to be used in soap making. Fat from meat was saved as a key ingredient of glycerine. It took a pound of fat to make 1/3 pound of gunpowder. Thirty lipstick tubes produced 2 cartridges, but it took 30,000 razor blades to make from fifty 30-calibre machine guns.

World War ll affected each family and most had a family member or close friend who paid the ultimate price. Technological innovations went far beyond nylon. Seventy years later many drive Jeeps and use high octane gas. Epoxy is used in construction and beyond. So is Styrofoam. Synthetic cortisone is a pharmaceutical, and Teflon is so widely used that it is found in humans and in growing things all over the earth. The electron microscope is a boon to the scientific world and where would we be without a bowl full of M & Ms? Or penicillin?

It was a time when Buy Local, Re-purpose, Reuse, Recycle went beyond caring for the environment. A few years after the war, if there was anything citizenry did not feel like doing, it was buying local, re-purposing, reusing and recycling. Nearly 40 years of scrimping and saving brought pent-up demands and for awhile  buying local and recycling faded away. Today it is "in" to buy locally and just about every city mandates recycling containers at each residence. The more things change, the more they remain the same. It's just the reasons that are different.

Sources: Algoma Record Herald, Kewaunee Enterprise, Luxemburg News, blogger's family history files

Kewaunee County & the 40 Hour Work Week

Unimaginable unemployment, cuts in hours and pay, and increasingly worsening working conditions for those who did have jobs, were only a part of what became the Great Depression. Today we read about other countries that have less than a 40 hour work week and wish. Few remember the time in our history when government was advocating a shorter work week. One of 30 hours. It happened during the 1930s and in the depths of the Great Depression. The issue of hours affected Kewaunee County as it did the rest of the country.

History tells us that around 1800, men, women and children in the manufacturing workforce put in 14 hour work days. The country was seeing an industrial revolution. Martin Van Buren was president in 1840 when he issued an executive order limiting the manufacturing work day to 10 hours. At the end of World War l in 1919, an 8-9 hour day was advocated and hours were maximized at 48 a week. It happened because of an international labor group. No sooner was it accomplished than the country was in the Depression. President Herbert Hoover proposed limiting the work week to 30 hours. It passed the Senate but didn’t fly in the House. Then Franklin Roosevelt, elected in 1932 on a platform that differed little from 1924 and 1928, enacted more social legislation than most can wrap their heads around today. By the early to mid-1930s, lack of jobs, foreclosures, soup lines and even starvation brought the issue of work hours and that began to get confusing.

The April 15, 1933 issue of Newsweek - one of the first issues in the magazine’s history - headlined a startling article about the U.S. work week being cut to 5 days and 30 hours. There were severe penalties for overtime work, prompting Kewaunee County merchants to quickly announce new hours. The bill was passed as a means to increase employment during the Depression, the worst economic catastrophe known to the U.S.

News articles indicate Kewaunee County employers were worried about compliance with federal regulations. Government’s idea was that more people with jobs meant increased buying power thus helping the country get out of the Depression. At the same time, the state was trying to win federal funds for public works, work that would also help prime business. Where would money come from to hire more people? Kewaunee County folk did not think it was as simple as it sounded.

Six months before the Newsweek article, author Joe Mitchell Chappel was urging protective tariffs as a way of guarding the American worker from the sweat and peasant labor of other lands. Chappel talked of a shorter work week and a work day, saying it was sound.

By late January 1934 federally funded CWA (Civil Works Administration) workers in rural areas and cities with populations less than 2,500 learned that because of dwindling funds, they would be limited to 15 hours a week of work until the end of the CWA period in February. It was felt that living costs were higher in larger areas so those workers would get 24 hours of work a week. Wikipedia tells us that spending about 200 million a month and temporarily employing about 4 million construction workers, CWA functioned during the winter of 1933-34, ending on March 1, 1934. The Record Herald pointed out that 197 Kewaunee County men had been part of the program but the county’s number was being cut to 166. In late March 1934 the paper said a mid-March pay roll was $1,305.20 for 112 men in the county quota. To put that in another perspective, the men received about $11.65 for 60 hours of work, or roughly 18 cents an hour. At the time 25 cents bought a man’s admission to a dance. Ladies paid 10 cents, a used tire could be bought for one dollar, an adult haircut at Timble’s was 40 cents, 4# of navy beans went for 19 cents, a dozen oranges sold for 25 cents and hamburger was 10 cent a pound. Eighteen cents won’t even buy a quarter hour at a parking meter today.

A November Record Herald editorial couldn’t see how limiting labor could go forward without a worsening of the economy. It said if limiting hours to 30 would put more men to work, would limiting hours to 20 or even 5 create more work? The paper couldn’t figure out how families other than the “idle rich” could get what they needed with reduced work and increased idleness. The limited hours would not affect agriculture, though it was pointed out that in Kewaunee County farmers worked 6 hours before dinner and another 6 after, however farmers knew they put in far more. The editorial said that any store open 8 or 9 hours a day placed a physical toll on employees. It also opined that it was really factories that proponents wanted to limit, and yet that wouldn’t work either because production costs would increase prices to a point of unaffordablity.

Farmers were against the advocated 30 hour work week and higher wages for non-farm labor. In October 1937, farmers felt it meant higher costs for them. They felt non-farmers working fewer hours wouldn’t be able to buy their products. It was pointed out that higher standards of living would come with lower production costs and higher wages. It was further said higher production costs and higher wages would bring down the standard of living because food and clothing were basic necessities.

About 6 months later there were other issues. Farm cooperatives also had to face labor issues and if farm products had to be produced in 40, or even 50, hours a week, a lot of farmers were going to find it impossible to exist at “present levels” or at levels in excess. That would put city dwellers in a more difficult economic position.

Hours continued to be a hot topic. A December 1938 Record Herald article  pointed out that in 1849, American industrial workers began work at sunrise, got 40 minutes for breakfast and lunch and then went on to work till 7 PM. In 1938 the average work week was less than 40 hours. Then there was the blame game. Merchants weren’t getting rich on sales in the days of high taxes and wage and hour restrictions.

President Franklin Roosevelt and Labor Secretary Frances Perkins initially endorsed the idea of shorter hours and work week, but buckling under opposition from the National Association of Manufacturers, FDR dropped his support for the bill, which in turn was defeated. It wasn’t long before Roosevelt advocated the job-creating New Deal spending and a forty-hour work week limit, passed into law on October 24, 1938 as part of the Fair Labor Standards Act. Again, it wasn’t long before there was another change.  World War ll production saw those in defense manufacturing positions working at least 45 hours a week.

Women’s hours seemed to be a separate issue and beat the 1938 40-hour week. In May 1937 the House passed a bill on to the Senate setting hours at 8 hours per day and no more than 44 hours a week, however in an emergency a 9 hour day and 50 hour week would be accepted. By August news articles discussed machines bringing shorter hours and shorter work weeks thus offering more leisure time.  A Record Herald editorial questioned why leisure was necessary because there were those that had nothing but leisure. It went on to say that it took a better man to stand up under all that leisure and make something of himself, more than it did for one who was always on the go.

The paper went on to opine that economic forces were bewildering. Swings too far either way always caused hardship to somebody. Seventy-five years ago the paper said, “Too bad there isn’t some way of determining the happy medium.”  The 40 hour work week has long been a staple in the U.S. Countless articles on its history can be found simply by Googling. One of the most interesting articles appeared in a Jayson DeMers article in Forbes on May 15, 2015. DeMers feels the 40 hour work week is dead for a number of reasons. As Abraham Lincoln said, "We cannot escape history."

Sources: Algoma Record Herald, Jayson DeMers in Forbes 5/15/2015 online; Google; National Park Service guide at Lindenwalk, Kinderhook, NY; Newsweek 4/15/1933; Wikipedia.

A Ground Hog's Place in Algoma's History

According to CNN, Punxsutawney Phil didn’t see his shadow. If Phil is right, we’ll have an early spring.  Shubenacadie Sam in Shubenacadie, Nova Scotia agrees with Phil, but Dunkirk Dave in Dunkirk, New York saw the sun, and that means more winter. Then there is Jimmy the Groundhog here in Wisconsin who agrees wholeheartedly with Phil and Sam. If they are right, it means the oak leaves will be the size of a mouse’s ear much earlier than Wisconsin farmers generally plant their corn.

Wikipedia tells us the Ground Hog Day was adopted in the U.S. in 1887. Wikipedia also tells us, "The celebration began as a Pennsylvania German custom in southwestern and central Pennsylvania in the 18th and 19th centuries. It has its origins in ancient weather lore where a badger or sacred bear is the prognosticator, as opposed to a groundhog." February 2 is also Candlemas Day, a day celebrating the presentation of Jesus, the light of the world. Candlemas comes midway between the first day of winter and the first day of spring. So does Ground Hog's Day. Googling both, a number of sites point out that both bear similarities to the Pagan festival of Imbolec - the seasonal turning point of the Celtic calendar which is celebrated on February 2 and also involves weather prognostication - and to St. Swithum's Day on July 15. St. Swithum is regarded as the saint to whom one prays in the event of droughts.    

1924 Record Herald

A search of old Ahnapee/Algoma newspapers reveals a ground hog’s prediction was something everybody had fun with. Farmers generally don’t  generally like things, but the ground hog sightings helped beat the winter doldrums and brought thoughts of the seed catalogues that would soon start arriving. During World War l and the Great Depression, highlighting the day meant frivolity in austere times. Then came the 1993 film Ground Hog Day which really “kicked it up a notch.” Star Bill Murray called it some of the best work he ever did. Festivals and celebrations begin in the early morning, and early morning TV shows are there to let viewers in on just what they need to know to go forward. Most often it is that viewers need to hunker down for another six weeks.

One hundred years ago Ahnapee Record told readership that the ground hog was to emerge from his hole and size up weather on Candlemas Day. If he didn’t see his shadow, he’d emerge for good and thus break winter’s backbone. Since the ground hogs eat clover, cabbage, young beans and more, the paper opined that if the ground hog didn’t see his shadow and stayed out, he’d starve. What happened in 1915 when it was reported that the ground hog was at large? His favorite foods weren’t there. Over the years the paper advised area populace to watch their resident ground hogs. It always seemed as if the local 4-legged creatures had the edge on smarts.

In 1914 the paper reported that on Candlemas Day Immaculate Conception Church would bless the candles used in church and in homes. The second part of the article said it was also the day on which the “proverbial” ground hog would make an appearance. A year later Ground Hogs’ Day set the stage for some fierce competition in Algoma. Bowling. The Glue Eaters – white collar personal at Algoma Panel - were taking on the Printers at the Majestic Bowling Alley. The Glue Eaters were afraid the Printers – the Printers’ Devils from “Ink Alley”  (Algoma Record) - would emulate the ground hogs and return to their holes. The Glue Eaters were afraid there was a chance the Printers would rally and carry their black ground hog-like colors into the deciding three games. But, at least Ground Hogs’ Day was sure to establish Algoma’s worst bowlers!

In 1935 people had more winter than they needed and thought it was time to foil the ground hog. Swiping his alarm clock was one idea. Or, passing a law requiring ground hogs to wear sun glasses. Maybe he needed a trapdoor blocking his burrow. Depression era ground hogs seemed to be taking on human characteristics, but it was a time to enjoy some merriment even if it was ridiculous.

By 1950, Ground Hogs’ Day was sunshine following a January that the paper said was monotonous, but monotonous it was not. It was much like this one. January 1950 saw all kinds of weather, including a day when Algoma’s temperature hit a balmy 50 degrees. Another day saw a minus 13 degrees. There was rain, freezing drizzle and ice. There were high winds and there was thunder. January 1950 certainly wasn’t boring and offered plenty of conversation. January 1950 went out with sub-zero temperatures prompting the paper to say and who beside a ground hog would want to stick their neck out?

Just as all of Kewaunee County, Algoma is packed with history though ground hogs aren’t usually considered a part of that history, but did you hear the one about Montpelier’s ground hog………..

Sources: Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record, Algoma Record Herald, Google, Wikipedia. Clip Art in Windows.

The "Flying Toilet Seat Salesman": Pat Johns, Algoma's #1 Screwball and RAF Fighter Pilot

Record Herald clipping

If any Algoma resident trained with the Royal Air Force (RAF) in Canada other than Newman “Pat” Johns, he didn’t get Johns’ press. Perhaps the notoriety came because Johns was the son of Joshua L. Johns, Wisconsin’s 8^th District Congressman who got so much ink that he nearly swam in it.

Serving in the House of Representatives in the late 1930s and early 1940s, Joshua Johns’ stance on neutrality was nationally known. A radio address in 1940 brought an orchestrated post card campaign. Interesting is that the pre-printed cards were sent from all over the U.S. Ironically, during World War l it was Joshua Johns’ leadership that put Kewaunee County over the top – 101% - in the Victory liberty Loan drives. Joshua was born a small town boy in Richland Center, Wisconsin and never forgot those roots.

Pat Johns was also a small town boy though he had big city experiences. Maybe a big city kid would have preferred being called Newman. Newman was Pat’s baptismal name. His mother was Esther Newman, daughter of Sam Newman who founded Plumbers Woodwork, a manufacturing force for most of 100 years in what is now Algoma. It was Esther who gave the city one of its parks, one called Newman Park. Joshua ran the Plumbers. He was an attorney who also served in Congress.

Little more than a year after graduating from Algoma High School with the Class of 1932, Pat was one of about 100 in his company at the San Diego Naval Training Station during August 1933 when he was selected as the weekly man of honor, one who demonstrated a neat appearance, initiative, and excellence from instruction. A few years later –August 1936 - Johns was stationed at Pearl Harbor when the news of his wedding was announced. St. Andrew’s Cathedral in the Territory of Hawaii was the scene of the wedding uniting him with Oconto’s Marjorie Chosa. They sent greetings from “Honolulu, Crossroads of the World and Paradise of the Pacific.”  

In May 1937 it was announced that the young couple arrived in Algoma from Honolulu to make their home in the lower flat of the Johns’ home on Third Street. Pat joined the family business as Director of Sales. The marriage didn’t last long though and just before Christmas 1938 Judge Henry Grasse refused Pat's request for a divorce. At least temporarily. Johns said conflicts began soon after the marriage. Marjorie Johns protested the proceedings as the couple had a six-month old child and another on the way. Johns made news when the marriage was eventually dissolved, but there was more to come.

It was written in October 1939 that Pat Johns put Algoma in more newspapers across the country than anyone else in its history.  He achieved plenty of publicity that September when he announced both a trans-Atlantic and a trans-continental flight. At the time he had a student pilot license and flew from Chicago to Manchester, New Hampshire. The student license prohibited him from flying farther than 25 miles from the point of take-off. Just weeks later he had his solo license enabling him to go anywhere in the U.S. Filling in the blanks is not difficult.

The idea of a peace flight that brought the national press. An idea for such a flight came to him while talking with reporters. One of the newsmen jotted it down and somehow the story “got legs.” It made wire services and was blown out of proportion. By then Johns’ plane was in Chicago where mechanics were reconditioning it, enabling the 65 horsepower mator to clear the Rockies. From Chicago he planned to go west in 800 mile hops. Newspapers called Johns “bald in the head and bold in the air,”  however the papers seemed to be making sport of him when it was further said he was “Screwball #1” in the Algoma club of 200 members. Algoma probably still has a few of the charter members who paid their 10 cents to join it.

In addition to making all the necessary preparations – including that overhaul – the “Shamrock Kid” was going to do an air show in Minneapolis at what was then Wold-Chamberlain Field. After that he planned to take some time in Algoma before returning to California.  Johns was planning his transcontinental World’s Fair to World’s Fair hop – San Francisco to New York – which was thwarted when officials in Oakland, California refused to allow his take-off. Runways were 6,000’ but Johns had an incredible gas load. Then he went to Sacramento, planning a take-off on a 3,000’ runway!

When Johns talked about the transatlantic flight, he called it a peace trip. He said he wanted to do what FDR could not, and that was end the war in Europe. The plane called "Johns’ Midget" didn’t make it and the trip was scraped. Part of the problem was balking federal authorities,the  Federal Aeronautical Authority. He had dealings with them more than once.

Johns’ plane had a 34’ wing span and a cruising range of 250 miles, however he was determined that every available part of the cockpit would carry extra fuel to insure a non-stop flight. Somehow 160 gallons were crammed into his “flying gas tank,” increasing the cruising range to 3,000 miles that would, hopefully, give him that non-stop flight.  Plans were to use the Weemes System of navigation which estimated the flight would take 34-36 hours. Some thought obstacles were insurmountable and that Johns was a “screwball flier.” If the screwball came through, honors were sure to follow. It didn’t happen. Johns completely wrecked his small plane just after take-off. Those who witnessed the wreck said it was miraculous that Johns escaped with nothing more than a few bruises.

While the trans-continental and trans-Atlantic flights were tabled, Johns became a member of the Canadian Hurricane Fighter Squadron and in 1943 was promoted from fighter pilot to a flying officer.

Early in 1941 while his father was pleading for defeat of Lend-Lease, it was said Pat was away from Algoma some time and making plans for his training. Congressman Johns said 95% of the country sided with England as did he, but the U.S. had done nothing to create the war unless it was the world war, meaning World War l. He felt more than one man – FDR - should decide about going to war. In February Congressman Johns spoke before Congress saying he was saddened with a “heavy-heart” because his only child had phoned to say that he was joining the RAF. The Congressman told his House colleagues that his son had been flying for many years and would leave for Canada in a month. Following 6 months of training, Pat would leave for England. Meanwhile Pat was in Algoma and when asked, for whatever reason, he denied his enlistment.

There were rumors about Pat and exactly what was going on with him. The war in Europe was ratcheting up but the U.S. was not involved when in June 1941, Canadian papers were full of Johns. While his father believed in neutrality, Pat was training with the RAF in Canada and getting ready to go to England. It was said that Johns found a four-leaf clover while having dinner with newspaper publisher Arthur Ford. He told Ford the clover would give him good luck and he intended to fill his “quota of Heinies.” Johns was full of confidence because when he was asked to bring back Hitler, he said he couldn’t do it because the Fuhrer was already promised to one in Chicago. It was said Pat had stationery printed with a green caption in the corner: “Pat Johns, the Wild Irishman.” Whether or not that was true, Chicago friends gave him an ID bracelet engraved with “Wild Irishman.” The London Free Press felt he was going to be an ace airman. He had the enthusiasm, pluck and love of adventure. What was not written was that he was also called “the flying toilet seat salesman.”

Oct. 30, 1942

Congressman Johns was asked by the publisher of the London Free Press – the Canadian newspaper – if there were not family inconsistencies. After all, the Congressman voted against Lend-Lease and his son wanted to fight the Germans. Not so said Joshua Johns. He was all for Britain and against all Hitler stood for. His problem was President Roosevelt having too much power and becoming a dictator himself. Johns said even if Lend-Lease failed, Britain would get aid.

Sixty-three fliers began the Canadian Air Force program, 43 finished and only 11 would win the commission. In July 1942 the papers hinted that Pat would be one of 11 commissioned. In 1943 Pat was in Newfoundland flying a fighter plane for the Royal Canadian Air Force. Algoma felt it would have something to cheer about if he ever did get to England. Canadian papers felt he’d do big things.

If Algoma’s” #1 Screwball” achieved his dreams, the press didn’t follow. At his father’s death in 1947, the obituary indicated Pat was living in Toronto. A year earlier Pat was visiting in Algoma when the newspaper mentioned the former RAF officer as being there for a few days before returning to Toronto and his job as a taxi driver. Newspapers that were filling pages with the exploits of a man on either side of 25 said he graduated from Belle Easton private high school in Algoma. Possibly there was confusion about which Algoma. Was it the one in Wisconsin or perhaps someplace in the Town of Algoma in Ontario, Canada? No doubt there were errors in other stories as well.

Whatever followed World War ll, Pat Johns’ celebrity status gave Algoma something else to think about. His grandfather Sam Newman entertained Ahnapee, as the city was then called, with his race horses. Sam knew horse flesh. Pat’s father Joshua was the only city resident who served as 8^th District Congressman. Pat was the only city resident to serve in the RAF. He was also the only city resident honored as #1 Screwball and its only flier to be called “the flying toilet seat salesman.”

Sources: Algoma Record Herald; Commercial Development in Youngs and Steele Plat and Other Selected Properties in Algoma, Wisconsin, c. 2006; Here Comes the Mail: Post Offices of Kewaunee County, c. 2010;  Joshua Johns files in the Area Research Center at UW-Green Bay; Yours Truly from Kewaunee County, c. 2014.

Ahnapee/Algoma and the Christmas Tree Connections

Two Rivers’ Rogers Street Fishing Village has a treasure trove of information with its numerous artifacts from the famed Christmas tree ship Rouse Simons. Christmas Tree Point is found in Algoma and is named in honor of the 52 Christmas tree ship captains known to have passed the Lake Michigan port city. Author-historian Fred Neuschel found that 44% of all Christmas tree ship crew members were from Algoma. Captains such as the Schuenemann brothers, Armstrong, Nelson and Sibilsky were among the illustrious. Others were not quite so well known. Increasing numbers of German immigrants to Milwaukee and Chicago brought a demand for evergreen trees at Christmas, and the ship captains did their best to supply them. November weather is Lake Michigan's worst, but it was the affect on the bottom line made the tree captains feel the risks were worth it.

When Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Schuenemann stepped on to the dock the day they came from Manitowoc to settle in Ahnapee in 1860, first born August was a baby. Other children followed, including Herman, the second Christmas tree captain in the family. August was the first. The boys and their siblings spent their childhoods and beyond in Ahnapee before most of the family moved to Chicago in the 1880s. Though far from Ahnapee, they maintained contact with relatives including their uncle, Herman Bietz.

Herman Schuenemann

It was the golden age of schooners on Lake Michigan. Traffic was so high before 1900 - and for awhile after - that boats were known to come upon ship-wrecked survivors. But it didn’t happen in November 1898 when August and his crew went down with the S. Thal. August had recently purchased the vessel and was taking trees from Sturgeon Bay to Chicago. As rough weather got worse, August made a run for shelter at Manitowoc. Continuing to Chicago when the weather died down, the Thal again met severe weather about 30 miles north of the city. As winds pushed the boat toward shore, Schuenemann tried to get the vessel farther out into the lake while flying distress signal flags which were seen though not reported.  All were lost when the boat went down. By then the Schuenemann brothers were living in Chicago where Herman had stayed with his wife who had recently given birth to twins Pearl and Hazel. Had Herman been with August that fateful day - as he would have been without the new babies - the rest of the story would have never happened.

August was gone but the Schuenemann tradition continued without interruption and loads of Christmas trees were taken to Chicago from northern Wisconsin and Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. That last trip of the year often provided more income than a season of sailing and the additional money meant repairs to the old wooden boats.

There was a romance in a ship loaded with Christmas trees coming into port to be met by throngs of excited people.  With his whiskers, stature and sparkling eyes, Herman added to that romance presenting an image fitting Clement Moore’s description of jolly old St. Nick.  And, Herman was a generous man who also knew how to market himself. Dubbed “Captain Santa,” Herman was a Chicago favorite. Income from the last voyages was dwindling and in early November 1911, Herman told reporters that interest in the trees was waning.  That year his cargoes held 27,000 trees while a year earlier the city was supplied with 150,000 trees, though not all his. He figured 100,000 trees would meet the needs in 1911. What happened? It was partially the railroad, and tree farms were coming into vogue.

When Herman’s Rouse Simons left Thompson, Michigan that 1912 November day, many looked at the sky and wondered why he was leaving. It was said that even the rats ran off the ship in the brewing storm, however Herman felt he could outrun it. His crew would have been light as at least one crew member also took off.  

Kewaunee Station 1909

This blogger’s ancestors were in school with the Schuenemann kids and the families attended St. Paul’s Church together. Farming along the lake as they did, how many times did my grandparents see the Christmas tree ships go past? When the Rouse Simons was off Kewaunee that 1912 day, she was seen and known to be in distress. Grandpa’s first cousin Nelson Craite was the Kewaunee lighthouse keeper. There was a valiant rescue attempt but the seas were too rough and the life-saving crew was powerless. Kewaunee Station called Two Rivers to be on the lookout. Joe Dionne, another first cousin, had been reassigned to Sheboygan sometime before. In his place was Capt. George Sogge, a man with ties to Algoma. When Joe was interviewed after it was known the Simons was lost, he said conditions on Lake Michigan were bad as he’d ever seen them.

The Rouse Simons went down before it reached Two Rivers, but where?. Over the years trees washed up along the shore and eventually a “farewell” note in a bottle was found washed ashore near Sheboygan. It took 49 years for the boat to be found by diver Kent Bellrichard, and somewhat by accident. Bellrichard was diving to a wreck, but he never expected it to be the Rouse Simons.

When the boat failed to reach Chicago on schedule, Barbara Schuenemann and her daughters were concerned, though in storms captains made for the safety of a port and stayed until the storm blew itself out. It didn’t happen that time. Captain Santa was gone and greatly missed, though his spirit remained. Barbara and the  girls, Elsie, Pearl and Hazel, took over supplying trees and greens to the folks in Chicago. In November 1916 - four years after Herman went down - the paper mentioned Barbara loading her new schooner with trees in Schoolcraft Co., Michigan. Barbara, then being called the “Christmas Queen,” worked with one daughter to scour the woods of the U.P.  Another daughter remained in Chicago to handle sales.

In February 1950, papers announced the death of 56 year old Elsie Schuenemann Roberts, the Schuenemanns’ eldest daughter who carried on. It was said she was called “Elsie, the Christmas wreath girl” as she was the holly wreath supervisor, but there were also times that Elsie skippered the boat. At Elsie’s death, her twin sisters Pearl Ehlign and Hazel Gronemann were still living in Chicago.

Over the years other stories have added to the Schuenemann Christmas lore, but not all are true. One story dates to December 1873 when, as the tale goes, Herman was aboard Capt. Johnny Doak’s Ella Doak as it hurled itself against the fierce winds and waves to jump the sandbar to enter the Ahnapee River. The little bark did get into the river, a feat thought to be nearly impossible. It was said Johnny and his crew of Herman, Orange Conger, Sea Star Sibilsky, Alec Doak and Charles Nelson sailed in that ferocious weather to get home in time for Christmas dinner. When George Wing told the story, he said the feat was miraculous. However, Wing was the 16 year old editor of the young Ahnapee Record when he wrote about the event for the first time in July 1873. Writing his historical memoirs 30 or 40 years later, he had the Doak jumping the bar on Christmas Day. It’s a great story and so well written that one is freezing in the wind and cold just reading it. But it didn’t happen that way. Years later when articles said Herman Schuenemann was on the Doak for the Christmas miracle, it wasn’t true. Quite possibly if there was a Schuenemann aboard, it was August who was several years older than Herman, however August is not recorded as being on that boat either. Frederick and Louisa Schuenemann were against their sons going to sea and it is doubtful that 7 or 8 year old Herman could have gone against his parents’ wishes in 1873. Capt. Doak had an exceptionally fine crew; he didn’t need a kid.

A humorous Algoma connection to Christmas and the lake extends to the visits of the schooner Reindeer which serviced the lake ports picking up bones to be taken to city soap factories. By 1959, Algoma had another Christmas tree connection. Manitowoc’s Jerry Waak approached a relative, Algoma’s Maynard Feld, with an idea. Jerry’s Aluminum Specialty Company wanted to manufacture aluminum Christmas trees and he wanted Maynard’s Algoma Dowel Co. to supply the tree trunks. Christmas was in the air all year. Joe Schmidt, Frank Weisner, Melvin Keller, the Haegele brothers and Wally Englebert were a few of the men running the rod machines which formed dowels from strips of lumber. The dowels were sawn into the appropriate lengths by Aggie Langer, Elsie Schmidt, Gloria Zak and Jerry Vandertie. Munchkins – part-time teenage employees – drilled holes into the sections, allowing them to be pinned together to form the trunk as tall as desired. AlSpeCo, as the Manitowoc company was called, sprayed the trunks silver before drilling holes at intervals all around from top to bottom. Aluminum branches fitted into the holes formed the tree. When Christmas was over, the tree was easily taken apart and neatly stored in a remarkably small box to be kept for the following year.

The aluminum trees started as silver trees. Then there were gold or pink among the purchasing choices. Trees revolved. Then came the plates with blue, green, red and yellow sections. The plate revolved with the tree and as the plate passed over an upward-shining spotlight, the revolving tree turned colors. The aluminum Christmas trees were a fad far from the green trees brought by the tree captains, the trees farmers cut in their woodlots or city folks bought on a street corner. A little less than 100 years after the Christmas tree ship captains made an economic impact on Ahnapee/Algoma, aluminum Christmas trees were making an impact of their own.

One can only imagine what the Christmas tree captains of over 100 years ago would think seeing today’s artificial trees or the perfectly formed and shaped real trees coming from the tree farms. What comes next?

Wisconsin Historical Society Museum has had displays of Aluminum Specialty Co. trees, aluminum wreaths and more. Rochelle Pennington has written a marvelous book – and a children’s book – about Capt. Schuenemann. Fred Neuschel tells the stories of Schuenemann and all the captains coming from Ahnapee and Virginia Johnson tells the story of the growth of Ahnapee from its beginnings as Wolf River to 1897 when the place was renamed Algoma. Hans Nell and Wes Cox tell the stories of the Schuenemann family in their award-winning Algoma House Histories. Rogers Street Fishing Village in Two Rivers is a wonderful summer destination. So is Algoma.

Captain Armstrong’s great-granddaughter Nancy gifted a bench to the city. One can sit on the bench, gazing from Christmas Tree Point out into the lake imagining a time that was. The view has changed a bit. The old piers were there during the heyday of the Christmas tree ships, but in the early days there was no lighthouse. There were range markers. Schuenemann began spotting Algoma’s old lighthouse (left) in 1898. It was much like the one that can be entered at Rogers Street, though considerably larger. 

It’s been nearly 100 years since the last tree ship sailed south, but the romantic history of a time that was remains.

You're in the Navy Now

Defeating the British during the naval Battle of Lake Erie in 1813 earned Oliver Hazard Perry a place in history, however it is his words in a letter to General William Henry Harrison that are remembered more than he is. “We have met the enemy and they are ours…..”  Perry was flying a battle flag with another immortal expression: “Don’t give up the ship.” Those words were uttered by James Lawrence as he lay dying aboard the USS Chesapeake.

About 160 years later - somewhere around 1980 - the Navy was recruiting with other memorable words. “It’s not a job, it’s an adventure.”  During World War ll slogans encouraged young men to “Join the Navy and See the World.” At the time, one could pick up forms at the Algoma Record Herald office, however those picking up the material knew war would not be a cake walk and seeing the world would be no vacation. It wasn’t only the Navy though. Young men from Ahnapee/Algoma and throughout Kewaunee County went into all branches of the military.

Ahnapee’s first known to serve in the Navy were DeWayne Stebbins and Henry Harkins. Harkins arrived in Wolf River, now Algoma, in the 1850s and was a Lake Michigan and Ahnapee captain in his real life. He entered the Navy as an ensign in 1862 and quickly became an acting master. Harkins manned the guns on the Cumberland in its battle with the Confederate USS Merrimac. Though the Cumberland was sunk, Harkins was one of the survivors who avoided capture by swimming away. Hank Harkins also served as an officer with Porter and Selfridge on the Mississippi River fleets.

Stebbins, who was little more than a child when he came to Wolf River with his parents, went on to work for C.G. Boalt and Edward Decker in the shipping and forwarding business until 1881 when he was appointed cashier in Decker’s Banking House of Ahnapee. Stebbins became the newspaper editor and a state senator who eventually became the name sake of the Stebbins Hotel. Stebbins’ importance is reflected in the fact that he had the first telephone in town.

During the Great War, Stebbins enlisted in Co. A, 21st Wisconsin but then was given a naval commission as a master's mate. Eventually he was promoted to master and transferred to the Kickapoo, a double turreted monitor that was sent to Farragut's fleet at Mobile. Following that, Stebbins was transferred to the steamer Michigan where he remained until discharged. When years later he became president of the Wisconsin Battleship Committee, the appointment was most appropriate.

DeWayne Stebbins was credited with saving the life of General Ulysses S. Grant during the Civil War, although the fact was never actually proven. As the story unfolds, Stebbins was serving in Porter's Fleet during the siege at Vicksburg. One night when Stebbins was Officer of the Deck on the Mound City, a sentry challenged men approaching in a small skiff. Stebbins ordered his men to fire thinking the approaching men were spies, but suddenly delayed the command to make sure he didn't fire on his own men. Just then, a voice in the darkness was heard to say, "General Grant desires to see Admiral Porter." If the story is true, “Big Steb” might have changed the course of U.S. history.

George Marr, Sr. was another who served in the Navy during the Civil War. He wasn’t drafted from Ahnapee, but at the war’s end, he came west and settled in Ahnapee where he too made an impact.

In December 1917, Wisconsin was asked to “give 800 boys to the Navy” by February. At the time, the country wanted 20,000 seamen to help crush the German submarines. Those who were thinking about enlisting were admonished to do so quickly because a second draft and coming and that meant there would be no choice. The country needed seamen and addressing egos seemed to work.

Early in 1918 men were encouraged to join the Navy while being told the “pick of American manhood is in the Navy.” It was further said such men were physically perfect, mentally alert and morally sound. Articles emphasized the physical training would add years to one’s life while building one up to a point where illness would be rare. The Navy offered a chance to earn good money at the government’s expense, to get free clothes, free room and board, and an opportunity for adventure. Each city’s postmaster had information for those who didn’t go to the Milwaukee recruiting office. John Wizner must have been caught up in the fever. He was visiting in Algoma in February 1918 when he left for his home in Minnesota with plans to sell his farm and enlist in the Navy.

USS Cowell, 1960

At a time when seamen were touted as the cream of the crop, Navy Secretary Josephus Daniels made a statement about the preventable diseases men in the Army and Navy were contracting as a result of an unclean and immoral life. Everybody knew what that meant. The Navy needed doctors, and Lyman Dockery was one commissioned a lieutenant in the Naval Medical Corp. He was born in Green Bay but in later life associated with Dr. Dana in Kewaunee. Dockery graduated from Marquette College of Medicine in 1917, just in time for the war, and married a Navy nurse.

Krok native Anton Flegel was another Navy man. Enlisting in the summer of 1918, Flegel didn’t see service outside the U.S. but honed his skills, eventually leasing a service station in Luxemburg in May 1923. Flegel engaged in his own business handling Shell Oil Products. Civil War veteran Frank Gregor’s sons served in World War l. Stephen and Byron served in the Army in France while son Albert served his country at home running the farm. It was Gregor’s son Louis who served abroad in the U.S. Navy.

Kewaunee County did its best for Louis Gregor and the rest of its boys. Harry Crawford was aboard the U.S.S. Connecticut in December 1917 when he wrote to Mr. M. Wochos, Chairman of Kewaunee County Chapter of American Red Cross, to say thanks for the Red Cross package he received.  William Burke was an ensign at sea aboard the U.S.S. Cuyana in April 1919 when he wrote to the paper. When Burke got home to Casco for Memorial Day, he was in charge of the 20 returned soldiers who marched to the cemetery to pay honor to the military buried there.

While the December 7, 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor was an attack on the Navy, Kewaunee County men were also serving there in other branches of the military. Algoma’s Louis Depas was serving at Pearl when it was attacked. Although his ship was hit and there were casualties, Depas survived only to die of a medical condition some years later. He was buried at Fort Bell, Bermuda and is now at rest in Arlington National Cemetery. Ray Gerhart was aboard the Nevada, getting ready to shave when the surprise attack came.

Luxemburg’s Edward Sell was at the marine barracks at Pearl Harbor when the attack started. It was several weeks before his family knew he was safe. Donald Gordon and Richard Cmeyla’s parents knew they were stationed at Pearl and they too got word of their sons’ safety weeks later. Gerhart later mentioned the time he was on the gangplank and spotted Gordon. The men had a lot to say to each other. Eldor Eggert and Ray Damas were stateside early in 1942 waiting to be shipped out. Both newbies felt there was “no place better than the Navy for young men.” Early in 1942 Howard Wolf received publicity for his heroic efforts rescuing crewmen. Wolf was in the Coast Guard when his cutter the Alexander Hamilton was sunk by enemy action in the Atlantic near Iceland. Frank Prokash, Jr. and Roy LeCloux were thought to be aboard the same cutter.

Sylvester Ullsperger was a Navy search and rescue pilot who later became an air traffic controller. Bill Storm was a graduate of the Naval Academy and Jim Lindeke was a medical corpsman. Seaman Richard Johnson served as the lowly Messenger of the Watch when he reported to the bridge – bringing coffee to the men on the watch - on a particularly stormy day while the captain was losing his cool with the man at the wheel who was unable to keep the ship on course. Nineteen year old Rich spoke up and said he could do it. The “Old Man” had had it and told the kid to take the wheel. The kid did it. He had grown up in a Lake Michigan commercial fishing family and as early as 6 or 7 years old took the wheel while the men were setting or pulling in the nets. From then on it was the commercial fisherman who took the captain up river for drinks or wherever he was going in his launch. Seaman Frank Schmidt was also a 6 year old at the wheel of his dad’s fish tug.  He was one who witnessed the testing of the atomic bomb. Ed Goetz always said Harry Truman saved his life. Goetz was in the Navy training fighter pilots in Alabama. Fighter pilots were going down at an astonishing rate and in July 1945, Ed got his orders “to go.” Before it happened, Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed, and Ed was eventually discharged. Ed was over 100 and still sharing the memories when he died in 2014. Donald Pfuehler’s desire to serve his country made newspapers as far as Washington D.C.  Pfuehler was working at Kewaunee Shipbuilding and Engineering when he enlisted in the Army. For some reason the Army felt there was something wrong with his feet and rejected him. To show the Army, Pfuehler hoofed it from the Green Bay recruiting office back to Kewaunee. Then he joined the Navy. Seaman Amand Laurent took part in the Siege of Casablanca. What did he think when he saw Bogart and McCall in the movie of the same name?

Joseph Muhofski of Kewaunee died in the attack at Pearl Harbor. Ralph Lietz was serving with Coast Guard when he was killed in the Atlantic in June 1943. Perry Drossart was killed in the sinking of the Quincy in September 1942. Levi Frisque was supposed to be on the Quincy but got sick and didn’t leave the States when the ship did. Casco seniors Lloyd Drossart and Roland Frisque went into the Navy in February 1943, two years after their brothers enlisted.

By the time the U.S. was in Korea, those serving in the Navy had a number of jobs besides being aboard ships. Standout Algoma athlete Zug Zastrow was the Navy quarterback who defeated the previously undefeated Army in the famous 1950 football game. The All-American Navy quarterback Zastrow even made the cover of Time Magazine. Zastrow, a Korean and Vietnam War veteran, graduated from the Naval Academy in 1952. A year after the big game, another Algoma athletic standout - Wayne Younk – came back to Algoma with a Navy medical discharge. Hilary Frisque served as an aviation machinist’s mate. Allen Albrecht served at the joint U.S.-Canadian weather station in the Canadian arctic. Father E. Thomas Peters was an assistant pastor at Holy Rosary in Kewaunee. Peters had served in the Navy during World War ll and was asked to return as a Navy Chaplain in 1950. World War ll Navy vet Melvin Qualman ran for 2^nd War Alderman in 1960. They all came back.

The Navy took men from all over Kewaunee County, during war time and peace time. During the peace time in the late 1950s and early ‘60s, area men were serving in the 7^th Fleet, keeping the two Chinas apart. The Navy was there during the Cuban missile crisis, and there to pick up Mercury astronaut Alan Shepard in the mid-1960s. During the late '60s, the Parkos brothers - Gene, Joe and Jerry - were serving at the same time.

In the last 50 years, the Navy has been throughout the world. Is it a job, or is it an adventure? The young men and women are certainly seeing the world and many see things they would rather not! At a recent gathering of Tin Can Sailors in Warwick, Rhode Island, the vets spent a day at the Newport War College, marveling over the new Navy, the education and the training. According to an after-dinner address by its commander, the young people are so much better prepared than were those at the event. Most of it because of technology and the fingers that knew joysticks and Pac Man!

Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave………
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea! 


Note: Oil paintings are courtesy of NL Johnson Art and
and used with permission. The poster is a copy of table
decorations won at Warwick.