If Edward Abbey were alive today, we would hear a hue and cry of anguish shouted from the mountaintops about the present state of OUR environment. When I browsed my bookshelves I picked up his book “Fire on the Mountain” and riffled through its pages where I landed on this passage: “Well—the summer rolled on, hot and dry and beautiful, so beautiful it broke your heart to see it knowing you couldn’t see it forever.”
Abbey was known for advocating environmental issues, criticism of public land policies, and anarchist political views. Read his “Monkey Wrench Gang” to learn about his methods of anarchy. He lies in eternal rest in a secret desert gravesite, buried by friends who aren’t giving up its location. I think his above quotation holds two meanings: 1. he would die and 2. the powerful continually subtract assets from the environment, never to be seen again.
Friday, August 30, 2019
Wednesday, August 28, 2019
Those Bygone Printing Presses
The distinctive smell of burning coal hit me as I walked onto the grounds of Bonanzaville in West Fargo. I knew that acrid burning in my nose came from the steam engines being fired up for demonstration purposes at the recent Pioneer Days event. I was there to serve as a volunteer in the historic Hunter Times print shop. Allan Burke, the publisher of the Emmons County Record in Linton, invited me to help out. Since I’m interested in the role newspapers played in the developing West, I was happy to help. Burke is a driving force in maintaining a historical connection with the old printing industry of yesteryear, both in Bonanzaville and The Braddock Letterpress Museum in Braddock, ND.
The story of The Hunter Times is unique to itself yet repeatedly told in the overall history of small town newspapers. It appeared as The Hunter Eye in 1886, transitioned to the Hunter Herald in 1894, and assumed the name of The Hunter Times in 1928, doing so until its final words found print in 1969. As was common to most small town newspapers it devoted itself to local affairs. The last owner of the paper looked to Bonanzaville to preserve the spirit of its bygone days and donated the building with its contents in 1971.
Today’s Enderlin Independent continues to print weekly and stands alongside The Emmons County Record as one of the few weekly newspapers still existing that devotes itself to local affairs. While The Record first saw print on June 10, 1884, The Independent was born as the Enderlin Journal on December 22, 1892.
The neighboring town of Sheldon was home to a weekly, too, but unfortunately, it is long dead. It is my hometown, and I’ve become addicted to the Heritage Center’s microfilmed archive of The Enterprise, then The Progress where I’ve learned about my community’s beginnings. Some have called journalism “the first rough draft of history,” and I agree wholeheartedly. Where else could I have learned when barbed wire arrived. Or how the first lumber to build houses came by wagon and ox team. Or an early resident rode west with Custer. Or the Italian work gangs built the Northern Pacific. Or how the town faced the onslaught of hoboes at harvest time. It makes for great reading.
A long, fact-filled article from Stanford University’s Center for the American West asks, “Did the west make newspapers, or did newspapers make the west?” They call it a chicken-or-egg question and their answer is a bit of both. A small, rather portable Washington Hand Press made its way westward in large numbers, thereby making it quite easy to set up a print shop and start publishing. By 1915, an estimated 17,000 weeklies circulated, many of which came off the Washington press. Sometimes they arrived by wagon, sometimes by rail. History tells how Clement Lounsberry’s press arrived in Bismarck on the first train to reach the city and has become the oldest paper in the state, the Bismarck Tribune.
The Time-Life series of books includes one called The Chroniclers. It tells the story of how a Washington Hand Press was being transported across a body of water in a canoe, which of course capsized and dumped its cargo into the water. The distraught owner dived in those crocodile-infested waters and heaved it back aboard. The editors report it was highly unlikely he did it by himself, as reported, but in fact he did dry it off and begin printing a paper called The Panama Star.
The late Richard S. Wheeler of Montana wrote a trilogy of books that centers on the editor Sam Flint who hauls his press by wagon to communities in Montana - Flint’s Gift, Flint’s Truth, and Flint’s Honor. The books are historical fiction and center around the reality of printing a newspaper in the rough and tumble days of frontier Montana and how the principled publisher survived strong arm opposition to his editorial stance. I’ve read them a couple of times. There are indications that publishers in North Dakota were forced to withstand many pressures, too, some bending to the strong arm, some not.
Old-time printing methods kept modernizing and developing into labor saving machines. To replace laboriously hand setting every letter in a story, linotype machines were invented whereby operators could sit at its console, press letter keys, and set the type. A rather complicated looking affair, it served newspapers well. Two retired Fargo Forum employees who ran these machines volunteer to demonstrate the linotype that sets in the Bonanzaville building. They are among the few who still know how to operate them.
Computers seem to replace everything and have pointed the way to the social media available today. We all read the same homogenized news filtered through only a few outlets, and the question arises what impact does all this have on independent thought.
Saturday, August 24, 2019
Historic Locomotives
Bonanzaville houses a historic locomotive used for many years on the Northern Pacific. Number 684, a 4-4-0 configuration, built by the New York Locomotive Works in 1883. Everytime I walk on the grounds of Bonanzaville I stop to take a look at it. This was the type of engine that opened up the West and would have pulled the first trains through my hometown of Sheldon, onward to Lisbon, ending at Streeter. One source says about 25,000 of these engines were built by various companies.
The signage reads, “it was designed for both passenger and freight service. It was one of eleven purchased at that time. Each locomotive costing $10,500 delivered at St. Paul, Minn. Number 684 was used in main line service until 1928, when it was given general re-conditioning and on September 12, 1928 was sold to the Nezperce and Idaho railway…” NP found her abandoned in a field in 1948 and donated the engine to Bonanzaville.
My model is mighty colorful, while a working engine would not have appeared so nice. Note the bell-shaped spark-arresting smokestack.
Similar to Bonanzaville's
The Hunter Times
Yesterday -Aug 17, 2019 - was for volunteering at The Hunter Times for the Bonanzaville Pioneer Days. I'm working on a story to weave different facets of history I learned from the experience.
Working at the linotype
Custer came in out of the rain
Allan Burke explains "things" to onlookers
Outside, The Hunter Times
Working at the linotype
Custer came in out of the rain
Allan Burke explains "things" to onlookers
Outside, The Hunter Times
Thursday, August 15, 2019
Why I liked WHEN MONEY GREW ON TREES
Part 2 - Why I liked WHEN MONEY GREW ON TREES: A. B. Hammond and the Age of the Timber Barons
There’ve been a lot of ruthless, unscrupulous robber barons in our country’s history, and A. B. Hammond, while lesser known than people like Rockefeller, Carnegie, and Morgan, stole natural resources with wild abandon. He and his partners had received the contract to build the Northern Pacific railroad in Montana, and in the book I learned how much wood laying track ties and building bridges would take and how with no mind to conserve he started taking timber. The estimated number of railroad ties per mile of track amounted to 2,640 ties fashioned from thirty-three trees per mile. Some laws were on the books, but these he ignored as he stole timber off public lands to finish his project. He began acquiring private lands and clear-cut them. It was said he was the worst enemy a redwood tree ever had.
Other authors and books have added thought to the conservation movement, but I doubt whether the definitive book has yet been written about all the straws sucking oil out of North Dakota ground. In such a short few years they have marred the pristine view we native North Dakotans loved, but most importantly this activity forestalls the development of practical alternative energy sources. Arguments arise in support: look at how many jobs are created by this activity. (that would be the Captains of Industry argument). Yes, in the short term I would agree, but I believe global warming is real and fossil fuels contribute to the problem. Alternative energy needs to be in the forefront.
I think of many other endangered components of this life we share on our little planet: national parks, wildlife, waterways, endangered species, plastic afloat in ocean waters, and (what have I forgotten…). It takes a book like WHEN MONEY GREW ON TREES to make me think about such things.
Tuesday, August 13, 2019
When Money Grew on Trees
Recently I remembered the book WHEN MONEY GREW ON TREES which so impressed me that I wanted to open and read from it again. One of the benefits of being a book reviewer for the Western Writers of America is that an occasional good one like this crosses my desk and I get to place it on my own shelves. My Santa Fe “boss” favored me with this volume of history about a robber baron who stole from the nation’s timber acreage. I certainly wasn’t going to discard it after making my positive assessment. Prior to our move from Mandan to Fargo I’d discarded some of my book collection; now, when I searched and could not find it, I began questioning my sanity for disposing it. After several searches, I gave up. A few days later and even without the help of St. Anthony, it showed up in the middle of a prominent shelf when I wasn’t looking for it. I believe I will blame this episode on my eyeglass prescription. But what about this book that appealed to me so? Read my thoughts on FaceBook tomorrow.
Saturday, August 10, 2019
Monday, August 5, 2019
Emmer Wheat
EMMER WHEAT
On Saturday morning I returned to the German from Russia convention to attend one more session — Emmer Wheat: Gift from Russia. Lowell Kaul from Harvey ND presented the topic and raises some on his farm, probably more out of curiosity than profit, because as he told us he has a bin full with no place to market it. Its history fascinated me, especially after I learned they started domesticating it 10,000 years ago. Some call it the wheat of the Bible. Presently it doesn’t meet with favor for milling because the husks are tough to separate from the kernels, But never fear since scientists at NDSU and elsewhere have placed it under scrutiny. German-Russian immigrants brought the wheat with them from the old country and they ate it, hulls and all. We were told millennials keep looking for pure and unmodified food products and the pure strain Emmer holds promise for that market. Someone asked if you can make beer from it, and the tongue-in-cheek answer came back, “Emmer beer built the pyramids.” He passed a bag holding a sample of it, and I “pinched” a few kernels.
Sunday, August 4, 2019
Learning about Adult Illiteracy
I haven’t lived long enough because there’s still so much to learn. For instance, at the Germans from Russia Heritage Society’s convention I learned about Christina Netz Hillius, a German emigrant to North Dakota who didn’t learn to read until she was 62 years old. At first blush, that might not seem a big deal, but the story behind it represented a nationwide movement called the “Moonlight Schools.”
A lady named Cora Wilson Stewart is considered the founder of literacy education for adults in the United States. She lived and taught school in Kentucky and realized after working with the school that many if not most of the students’ parents were illiterate. In 1911 she invited the community adults to come in for instruction at nighttime. The identifying name of “moonlight schools” became into being because school was only held on nights when moonlight was bright enough to light the footpaths and wagon trails.
Attendance the first night was so large and they were surprised and overwhelmed when
students from 18 to 86 years of age showed up. Students from all walks of life came, i.e. farmers, storekeepers, ministers, what have you. So happily surprised was Stewart that she called this first night “the brightest moonlit night the world has ever seen.”
Now back to Christina Netz Hillius. She enrolled in the Kulm Evening School at the age of 62 and became their star pupil after only 12 sessions. So impressed was the Superintendent of Public Instruction that she toured Christina around the state to speak on behalf of eliminating illiteracy in North Dakota. After a hard immigrant’s life, she found fulfillment to enjoy everything her adopted country offered. Great story!
A lady named Cora Wilson Stewart is considered the founder of literacy education for adults in the United States. She lived and taught school in Kentucky and realized after working with the school that many if not most of the students’ parents were illiterate. In 1911 she invited the community adults to come in for instruction at nighttime. The identifying name of “moonlight schools” became into being because school was only held on nights when moonlight was bright enough to light the footpaths and wagon trails.
Attendance the first night was so large and they were surprised and overwhelmed when
students from 18 to 86 years of age showed up. Students from all walks of life came, i.e. farmers, storekeepers, ministers, what have you. So happily surprised was Stewart that she called this first night “the brightest moonlit night the world has ever seen.”
Now back to Christina Netz Hillius. She enrolled in the Kulm Evening School at the age of 62 and became their star pupil after only 12 sessions. So impressed was the Superintendent of Public Instruction that she toured Christina around the state to speak on behalf of eliminating illiteracy in North Dakota. After a hard immigrant’s life, she found fulfillment to enjoy everything her adopted country offered. Great story!
Bueling Beginnings in Plum City
As we made plans to attend the Shakespeare festival at Winona State University, we realized one side trip to Plum City, Wisconsin was necessary to include in our itinerary. My Bueling ancestors buried near there beckoned us to come visit the site of their burials. Fortunately, Mary had spotted the potential for some genealogical fulfillment, and we found two of the cemeteries where they’ve been laid to rest.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Veterans Day, 2024: "some of them sleeping forever."
We’re commemorating Veterans Day on November 11. It’s a day to honor all veterans who have served in the military, living and deceased, and...
-
Sunday, August 1, we drove to Leonard to attend the annual Sandvig Picnic. It was not a big crowd, but there was plenty of food and conver...
-
Chapter One I’ve always wanted to see pieces of my story collected since I never wanted a life that no one cares to remember....
-
Yellowstone Kelly Occasionally an historic character passes through Ransom County. Take Luther S. Kelly, for instance. His birth name won’...