Alaskan Gold Miner Buried in Sheldon

 An interesting find occurred at the Sheldon cemetery recently. The following narrative explains it. There are other stories in the cemetery, too, and in the future we plan to share some of them..

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An Alaskan Gold Prospector Was Buried in Sheldon

Every year before Memorial Day, we make an effort to visit the cemeteries where friends and relatives have been buried. In Sheldon we took time to wander about and look at the inscriptions on some of the tombstones. Mary found one that caught her eye and called me over to look at a modest, flat stone honoring a World War II veteran. It bore this inscription: Willis J. Cruden, North Dakota, Intelligence Platoon Alaskan Scouts, World War II, Feb 15, 1906, May 12, 1943.

The mention of Alaskan Scout interested us in the history of the man, and upon returning home she looked for information in census reports, Ancestry.com, and Chronicling America. Given the clue of Alaska, she found a 1940 census report showing him being a prospector for gold around Talkeetna, Alaska, in the possession of “0” dollars. She also found a brief mention in the Fargo Forum of July 18, 1943, that he had been posthumously awarded the Purple Heart after being killed in action.

That’s all we knew about him to this point, but there had to be more, besides living in Alaska and not being a successful prospector for gold. Who were the Alaskan Scouts? What were the circumstances to Cruden’s receiving the Purple Heart? Why was he buried in the Sheldon cemetery? A compelling story began developing with further research.

On June 6, 1942, the Japanese army had invaded two of the Aleutian Islands, namely Kiska and Attu, part of the archipelago extending from Alaska proper because the Japanese command wanted to control the northern sea routes. They needed to be countered and driven off United States soil. The first step taken was made by Colonel Lawrence Castner whose orders were to form the 1st Alaskan Combat Intelligence Platoon. He handpicked 65 rugged outdoorsmen from the collection of trappers, miners, hunting guides, dog sledders, fishermen, prospectors, loggers, and indigenous natives. When he finished selecting them, he said they all had one thing in common, “They’re tough.” Cruden had been picked to become one of “Castner’s Cutthroats.”

Little effort was made for uniformity: they wore their own clothing, chose their own weapons, and possessed a variety of nicknames. A few of them could be found such as Aleut Pete and Waterbucket Ben. Yes, Willis Cruden had one, too, Bad Whiskey Red.

The story led to the morning of May 11, 1943, when a boatload of Scouts reconnoitered a beach as a landing spot for the U. S. attacking force. A small group of them rowed their way through the fog and wind with Cruden holding a compass and accurately navigating the boat onto the landing beach. They spent the frigid night with no provisions or shelter. When the fog lifted the next morning, Japanese snipers surprised them from high ground, targeted Cruden, and shot him dead through his heart, May 12.

Mary found the document which Cruden’s mother, Frances, filled out to apply for his Military Veteran headstone. Since Cruden was an unfamiliar name to me I wanted to know about her connection to Sheldon. Why did she choose his final place of rest in Sheldon. This was her home area. Her maiden name was McCusker, born and raised in Shenford Township, south of Sheldon. She lies beside her son in the cemetery. She might never have known about his military exploits. More might be added someday since there are a lot of stories regarding the extraordinary Alaskan Scouts. They represented a singular part of the large effort made by all the military forces in World War II.

A postscript adds another Sheldonite who served in Alaska during World War II - Tom McGrath served in the Aleutian Islands, too, but not as a “Scout.”

The Plow That Broke the Plains

Here is a poem I will take to the Medora Poetry Gathering on Memorial Day weekend. It seems relevant to the winds and erosion we've seen here lately.

 The Plow That Broke the Plains

The land spread before them,

a prairie with waving grasses

and roots that reached and weaved

deeply into the virgin soil.

They said that grass would grow so high

that it stood taller than the cows,

and sometimes made them hard to find.

One settler told of the wasted time

they had each day finding missing

cows that had disappeared into lush

growth to eat their fill. Now we read

that deep roots might enjoy talking

with each other to pass the word

on down the line. I suspect they 

spent time laughing about these 

poor folks looking this way and that.

Then John Deere invented something,

it was revolutionary,

a self-scouring steel plow that cut

roots of the Midwestern prairie.  

John Deere was a plain old blacksmith

who picked up a broken saw blade.

He saw potential in its shine,

so take a look at what he made.

It’s called "The Plow that Broke the Plains.”

Then there’s that time it didn’t rain,

the farmers couldn’t harvest grain. 

Then they learned if you turn the grass 

the soil blows away and rises in the air.

Gopher Tails Bought a Suit

 An NDSU history professor, Tom Isern, and his wife, Suzzanne Kelley, the director of NDSU Press, produce a  Facebook program from their  home called Plains Folk. He’s folk-oriented and sings the praises of the old North Dakota settlers. Last Friday evening one tune contained the line about someone who trapped gophers for the bounty on their tails: “I’m gonna get a new outfit with my gopher tails this fall.”

After hearing it, my wife said don’t you remember the story your mother told about her brother, Marion (Sonny). Written on the back of this picture was her remembrance of how he’d trapped gophers until he got enough money - about $8 or $10 -  to buy the suit he is wearing in this picture. My mother is the oldest girl in the family and is seen sitting on the left.

Now, this Mother’s Day , I can’t help but think how young she was on this picture and how quickly her life passed. She was 94 years of age when she died in 2014. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. 

Fire Destroys Thirteen

 Getting back to the history of Sheldon, an interesting memory appeared in a recent Fargo Forum article dated May 8, 1897.

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Town in Ashes

The Town of Sheldon Is Wiped Out by the Fire Fiend at an Early Hour This Morning.

Thirteen Buildings Go Up in Smoke - Covered with Very Little Insurance - It Is Not Known How the Fire Originated - Most of the Buildings Will Probably Be Rebuilt.

Sheldon, May 8. - About 1 or 1:30 this morning fire broke out in the Froling grocery store here, or rather the fire was discovered at that time.

We have no fire department and the buildings were nearly all wooden structures and the flames soon licked everything clean from the state bank building to the meat market.

Thirteen buildings were burned, including grocery store where fire started, the State Bank building, billiard hall, jewelry store, shoe store, Charles Temm's hardware store, Goodman and Grange's meat market, restauranc building, Enterprise office, A.B. Rudd's general store.

The fire only lasted two hours and it was impossible under the circumstances to do anything to stay the progress of the flames. It is not known how the fire started. Some of those who were burned out are already talking of rebuilding, but some of the buildings will not be replaced.

The insurance was very high and the amount of protection carried was very small. The total loss is put at between $20,000 and $25,000 with only $6,000 in insurance. Only a small proportion of the contents of the buildings were saved.

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Rest in Peace, Dear Brother

 Howard Charles Bueling

September 24, 1947 - May 4, 2026

Poem Fits the Picture

 

TOM MCGRATH

A few lines from a Tom McGrath poem fit the picture very well. He is writing about the Maple River, I’ll guess about 1925 to 1930, northwest of Sheldon; the threshing outfit is crossing the Sheyenne River in 1902, not far south of Sheldon. As our proverbial crow flies, there are not many miles or years between.

“Sometimes, at night, after a long move to another farm,

Hours after the bundle teams were gone and sleeping,

After we’d set the rig for the next day,

I rode the off-horse home.

Midnight, maybe, the dogs of the strange farms

Barking behind me, the river short-cut rustling

With its dark and secret life and the deep pools warm.

(I swam there once in the dead of night while the team

Nuzzled the black water.)

Home then. Dead beat."

Eyes Aloft

 Eyes Aloft

By Lynn Bueling

They tested  bombs and filmed the bloom

of mushroom clouds that rose

and rode aloft on overhead winds

and carried dangers of it to us.

They called the 50s the Decade of Fear

and the world prepared for the worst.

Scant radar array in the USA 

might miss Russians sneaking

through to drop a clutch of eggs 

to hatch and bring destruction. 

Mom’s aunt and daughter joined

the Ground Observer Corps 

as Skywatch volunteers,

urged by Truman to recall 

Pearl Harbor could happen again. 

They took their shift in  a little shack 

on the hill west of town 

where with “Eyes Aloft”  they 

scanned the sky for enemy

that might come sneaking through.

The “Decade of Fear” kept us on our toes 

wondering if we’d see the sun again. 

Meanwhile just below the hill

baseballs flew out of the park, 

and Steinbeck passed through Alice.