The Power of Words

The recent ‘Texas Monthly’ magazine carried a long article about Willie Nelson where several of his acquaintances spoke about him. Here is what Rodney Crowell said when he went to visit him. It is a good example of the power of words forming an image that’s hard to forget. - 
“And as we drive up, I see this Camaro out in the middle of this field, just cutting doughnuts and spinning around as fast as it could. I said, ‘God, what’s going on out there?’ The driver said, ‘Guess who’s driving that car?’ I had no idea. ‘Bee Spears, maybe?’ He said, ‘No, that’s Stevie Wonder.’”

He Paid for Reneging

     With pen in hand, President James Buchanan signed a bill establishing Dakota Territory on March 2, 1861. President Abraham Lincoln took office just days later and found himself facing an impending Civil War.  Needing to free himself from the business of the new territory, he quickly named an acting governor, his friend Dr. William Jayne.

     Jayne’s task was large, even to the point of naming a temporary capital city. He chose Yankton; the new legislators would choose the official capital when they were seated and in session. 

     Other cities desired the capital city designation, a fact which caused some behind the scenes maneuvering. The speaker of the house, George Pinney, promised to support Yankton’s bid, but infighting caused a stalemate. He switched his support to Vermillion which infuriated some colleagues to the point of threatening to throw him out the window, a threat prompting his quick resignation. Afterwards, he made the mistake of entering the saloon where a few other legislators had gathered.

     History records the time when Frank Ziebach looked up from his printing press and glancing through the window spotted an astonishing scene. A man had come crashing out the window of the saloon across the street and sat there disentangling himself from the sash and shaking shards of glass from his clothes. In the gaping window frame a man stood with a clenched fist shouting something similar to “that’s what you get for reneging on a promise!” He may even have added, “Your word’s no good and if you want more of it, just git back in here!”

     Pinney stood brushing himself off and knowing he couldn’t go back in there started walking away, but the men standing at the doorway were coming after him. He pulled a small pistol from his coat pocket, cocked it, and held it in the air.  Their look at that pistol and the set of Pinney’s jaw was enough to dull their ire. This event capped twenty days of rancor since the legislature finally named Yankton as the official capital of the territory. 

      Ever the newsman, Ziebach picked up a pad and pencil and ran to the saloon for the story.

He had come from Sioux City to Yankton just a few months before after rolling overland for three days in two wagons loaded with printing equipment. He never dreamt he’d find such a great story as this in a little frontier town. His first question would have been an easy one, “Who pushed that man out the window?”

     Ziebach recognized the House sergeant-at-arms, Jim Somers, pointing at his chest, who said, “I did and I’d do it again! Some wanted to do that when the House was in session, then backed off when he resigned.” Editor Ziebach replied, “That was when the House was in session but we’re here in a saloon. Would you comment?”

     “I’m on my own time and when he had the guts to come in here I thought it was a good opportunity to get it done. If he didn’t want to face up to it, he should’ve stayed out.”

     Dakota Territory suffered through a painful birth. When Governor William Jayne arrived in Yankton, he found an undeveloped city with primitive amenities. His office consisted of a two-room cabin, the back room of which served as a bedroom that he had to share with Attorney General William E. Gleason. Since the A. G. was outranked by his roommate, one of his duties was to clean the cabin and empty the slop buckets.

     The newspaper office, too, was a log cabin structure where Ziebach printed The Daily Dakotian with his Washington Hand Press. This particular machine’s very portability enabled Ziebach to bring it in a wagon, just as hundreds of other would-be publishers did across the country as settlements spread westward. 

         As for George Pinney, it was probably lucky that the men who’d taken a notion to continue harassing him backed off at the sight of the pistol. Pinney moved to Helena, Montana and proved he would use it because in an altercation he had with a former lieutenant governor from Wisconsin named Beall he shot and killed the man.

     We don’t know who stood the expense of repairing the window, whether it was the man who threw him out or the owner of the bar, but it’s a good guess that Pinney didn’t. This event capped twenty days of rancor since the legislature finally named Yankton as the official capital of the territory.

     In the long run even though Vermillion was not awarded the capital site, it profited more than Yankton did because it received the nod for the the establishment of the University of South Dakota which still stands as a successful institution of higher learning; furthermore, Yankton is no longer a capital city.

The Phantom General

     Riotous crowds recently toppled statues and defaced memorials honoring Confederate generals. Wanting to take their hostility a step further, they suggested removing the generals’ names on various military posts, such as Forts Bragg, Benning, and Hood, then replacing them with those of Medal of Honor winners.  The argument for change centers around their contention that these generals were treasonous to the Union by breaking their oaths to defend the U. S. Constitution and choosing instead to defend slavery and white supremacy.

     The winds of historical interpretation can switch directions in a moment leaving many place names under scrutiny. Here in North Dakota some pundits wrinkle their brows and question the wisdom of naming cities after dubious characters like Napoleon and Bismarck, but to this point mail still reaches residents at those towns.

     North Dakota honors a few men from the Civil War era in cities and forts, such as Lincoln, Grant, Sheridan, Sibley, and Ransom. The last man probably has the lowest name recognition outside of the state and might even be a mystery for some residents. It is his service to the Union we’ll look at closer. 

     General Thomas E. G. Ransom served honorably in the Civil War, received four wounds in as many battles. When convalescing from his last wound, he grew impatient and chose to return to the action. Unfortunately it had not yet healed properly, and he succumbed to an infection while lying on a cot in a slave’s cabin. Because he kept coming back from the dead to the battlefield after each wound, someone dubbed him “The Phantom General.”

     General William T. Sherman’s eulogy for Ransom gives us a description of the man. “His appearance was almost boyish, with blonde hair, blue eyes, a fair complexion, and though of slender form, he had the bearing of a gallant soldier.” To add to his physical description, General McLernand said of his character, “Ordinarily, he is of a quiet, modest disposition; but when in battle he becomes tiger like, fearing nothing.”

    Because his name identifies the North Dakota county where I was born and raised, I felt prompted to learn something about the man.  The deep, abiding respect he earned for his service stood out. A subordinate officer at the Battle of Vicksburg attested, “Always where the danger was greatest, always cool and confident.” General Sherman stated, “That is General Ransom, rising man, rising man; one of the best officers in the service; been shot all to pieces, but it doesn’t hurt him.”

     In 1867 as the country turned more attention to expanding westward, a line of forts was deemed necessary to protect overland travel from Minnesota to Montana. One of them, at a location chosen by General Alfred H. Terry called Bears Den Hill near the Sheyenne River, was christened Fort Ransom to honor his memory. In service for about five years, it was dismantled and hauled away to build Fort Seward near Jamestown, North Dakota. With none of the structures remaining, it still draws admiring visitors for its history and beautiful setting.

     It might come as a surprise, but one more Fort Ransom exists in the historical memory. Named for the same man, it can be found halfway between Memphis and New Orleans at the site of the Vicksburg battlefield. It never rose as one thinks of fort construction, but instead marked a temporary fortification of dirt trenches and sandbags that jutted forward from the Union line. Here Ransom and his command had found themselves in the center of the Union thrust into the Rebel positions surrounding the town of Vicksburg. Grant wanted control of this town on the Mississippi River because cannons placed on its heights could control boat traffic and choke Confederate supply lines.

     

      While Fort Ransom gave cover to Union sharpshooters, it did not prevent Confederates from returning fire and inflicting casualties in return. With a great deal of effort, Ransom’s men succeeded in dragging two cannons to their front with which they did considerable harm, but none of the Union efforts were successful. Grant stopped the attack and chose instead to intercept all food and supplies from entering the city, in effect starving them out, after which they finally surrendered.

     We don’t know how many battles Thomas E. G. Ransom fought in but certainly more than the four where he received wounds. The war consisted of 384 battles ranging over 24 states; no man could be everywhere.

     Ransom's memory was cherished by many prominent Union Generals including Grant and Sherman. The historian Edward G. Longacre notes that the stoic Grant wept upon hearing of young Ransom's death. Ransom's close friend, Grenville Dodge, recalled how, even years later, President Grant would frequently talk about young Ransom with great affection and respect.

Sherman still kept a photograph of General Ransom on the wall of his office 20 years after the war. Thomas E. G. Ransom is buried in Rosehill Cemetery in Chicago. 

Funeral for Richard Paulson

We buried Uncle Richard Paulson today. Some family members present were Dick's brother-in-law Darrel Sandvig and his girls and the niece Devitt sisters, all daughters of Lorraine Sandvig Devitt.

Rea, Robin, Darrel

Mari, Sandy, Emmy, Vonnie, Jonel

Table Talk

     My wife and I both read from a wide range of material, both for entertainment as well as for information. Sometimes we write narratives based on our findings and interpretations. Mary is a genealogist studying historical roots for both her ancestors from Ukraine as well as mine from Ukraine, Norway, and Sweden. I’m just an amateur historian reading and thinking about a variety of topics, mostly in the successes and failures of frontiersmen and pioneers in our area.

     Mary’s mother lived through the world-wide diphtheria epidemic of 1927 and at times recounted many memories of it. Presently it’s a topic often discussed at our dinner table. She now refers to notes she made for an article she is writing to submit to an organization journal. Since I’m her editor-in-chief, I’ve read and reread it a few times, sometimes adding my two cents’ worth. From those pages quite a story emerges from a rural Germans from Russia community.

     First off, we’ll set the scene in a rural community inhabited by first generation immigrant Germans from Russia who came to America to escape harsh realities in Russia. People started getting sick here, children were dying, but doctors were not available. Furthermore, it had been instilled in the G-R people to not trust people in authority because of the power they held over their lives.

     One man walked several times over hills through deep snow to come to Mary’s grandparents farm home with the request of asking the grandfather to make wooden coffins for each of his kids who had died. The only material available to craft them with were the wooden bin boards in his little granary. A doctor had not been called to attend to them when they grew sick. Furthermore, they didn’t think one would come to people with their old world ways when asked.

     Some enlightened folks with a more forward-looking  attitude toward medical science had failed to find a doctor who would visit. Why not try their newly learned procedure in the United States of asking an elected official to aid them? A group of them went to the county’s state attorney for help. What leverage he may have had over a doctor isn’t clear and probably did not exist. Maybe he just made a friendly request of one he knew, but whatever he did, a doctor did come down to give aid.

     The aid came in the form of vaccinations for those who would submit to the needle in their arm. Negative reactions to modern science weren’t just restricted to that community of German-Russians. Come closer to home and find a story like it among Norwegian settlers in the Owego settlement. In a paper read to an old settlers picnic in Sheldon, Mrs. A. L. Treat wrote in the winter of 1884 that smallpox broke out in the Owego settlement. Mr. Knutson’s family were the first to suffer. Two boys died, but two other members of the family recovered. Dr. Capehart from Fargo was sent out to vaccinate everyone. The doctor dined at F. W. Baguhn’s and went to the home of Mr. Thiergart next. Mrs. Thiergart objected to the shot in her arm, but her husband cried out, “Katherina, you must come down, the doctor is here, and he says you must get ‘waxmenated.’ There is no use, you must come down.” After much coaxing, Katherina was “waxmenated.”

     The G-R part of this story referred to the diphtheria pandemic, the Owego segment was smallpox, and now we face a virus called Covid-19. Several scientists work at finding a vaccine for it, and whomever first discovers it will surely be noted in the history books.

     Edward Jenner is considered the founder of vaccinology in the West in 1796, after he inoculated a 13 year-old-boy with vaccinia virus simply known as cowpox, and demonstrated immunity to smallpox. It may have been due to someone observing the fact that milkmaids who had contracted the mild cowpox seemed to have resistance to smallpox.

     Over a century ago, a German physiologist named Emil von Behring won the Nobel Prize for Medicine in 1901 for his discovery of a diphtheria antitoxin. It must have been a relief for the general population who were ready to accept it. The problem at the time was that plenty of anti-vaxxers didn’t receive a shot, so the disease kept running through many sections of the country.

     Whenever a vaccine for Covid-19 comes on the market that science says is effective, I will be standing in line for a shot, even though I know there are plenty of anti-vaxxers who won’t. I want to shed my mask.

You can email me with comments to this address -  lynn.bueling@gmail.com

August 15, 2020

It's my wife's birthday today and she just doesn't get any older. Looks like the day I first saw her. Happy Birthday, Love!

Two Forts Named Ransom

I never knew there were two forts named Ransom. Before the one for whom our county is named there was another - on the Vicksburg battlefield. The Confederates had established a defensive ring around Vicksburg, Mississippi to protect it from General Grant’s Union forces. Whoever controlled Vicksburg controlled the Mississippi River over which Southern forces shipped supplies and kept their war effort alive. The men General Ransom commanded were tasked with attacking the middle of the line, right into the face of the enemy. While it was mostly a stalemate, his force did succeed in pushing forward a bulge or salient that took them closer for sharpshooters to pick away at the Rebels. This bulge needed a name as the thinking went and their respected leader General Ransom received the honor. It was called Fort Ransom. Grant finally called off the attack after deciding he would simply starve them out, which is what happened. The Union then controlled traffic on the Mississippi River.

Shadows Basketball 56-57

A record of 16 wins and six losses was made by the Sheldon High School Shadows in the 1956-57 high school basketball season. With their coach, Robert Griffin, at left, the squad members are, left to right, Lynn Bueling, Ron Hoff, Roger Evanson, Gary Young, George Bunn, Co-Captains Vern Spitzer and Lance Bueling, Denis Good, Darold Good, Dick Schroeder, Darrell Evanson, and Student Manager Dale Bunn. The trophy was won by placing second in district play.
(I am aware of two of this group who have passed - Darold Good and Dale Bunn. As for others, I haven’t heard. Mr. Griffin would be quite elderly by now if alive. Maybe someone can bring us up to date on others, such as Gary Young and Denis Good.)

We Were Just Kids

Three amigos from Sheldon, picture taken at a time and place un-remembered, over 60 years old. 

Hiroshima

Today, August 6, 2020, marks the 75th anniversary of the atomic bomb exploding over Hiroshima. Articles in today’s Washington Post tell of how it took a reporter, John Hersey, walking among the ruins a year later and visiting with the survivors to tell the real story of the suffering it brought. He filled one issue of The New Yorker magazine with 30,000 words titled “Hiroshima.”
“A panel of journalists and critics ranked it first on a list of the top 100 works of journalism in the 20th century…Many historians and foreign policy experts say its impact was profound enough to help prevent future use of nuclear weapons.”
I’ve not read Hersey’s story but will go back and do so.

In Season

A summertime menu - BLT, cob of corn, sliced cucumbers, watermelon, and peaches.