RANDOM THOUGHTS - Nov. 22, 2023

Happy Thanksgiving everyone … Christmas shopping has been promoted for several weeks already … We’ve had beautiful fall weather … The end of 2023 grows nearer … Remember the fears of the new century and how the digital systems might collapse sending us into darkness … Why do so many water down the meaning of a solemn celebration and call it “Turkey Day” instead of Thanksgiving Day? …

Reeds on a Muddy Shore

 There was a time I was afflicted with a case of wanderlust that only traveling could cure. The following poem illustrates a time in Alaska.

Reeds on a Muddy Shore

Parting thick reeds

on the muddy shore

of memory, I spot

the M. V. Wickersham

with her narrow bow

and swept-back funnel

floating dockside in Haines.

Dreams of high life

in the storied north

had grown frail

with fear of nearing winter.

I fled Anchorage astride

my Impala, determined

to hurdle the span

of miles and mountains

to meet the southbound ferry

at its terminus. We ran

hard a long while and arrived

at Port Chilkoot

sweating slush and mud

with little time to spare.

I bought the fare to ride,

then turned to watch

the floating creature open

her mouth and swallow

my steed into her belly.

The ship, like a bobber,

floated up and down on Pacific

swells, my boarding ticket

the lure, and me,

the catch of the day.

Harvests - Past and Present

On a recent day while driving through the countryside I noted the harvest neared completion.

Clouds of dust followed combines in the corn fields and big trucks loaded with their yield stayed

busy hauling it to storage or market. Fast work is made of each field with the machinery eating

several rows at a time. The whole process from planting to harvesting varies greatly from that of

the last generation.

In the way of marketing, something new has risen on the Sheldon skyline. Recently several

conjoined concrete silos were poured in an around-the-clock construction project. When the

special railroad spur is built the facility will be able to handle the long trains of cars that meet the

modern idea of efficiency.

The writer looks back with old eyes to one row corn pickers that slowly worked their way

across the width of fields with small wagons hauling the cobs home to shovel into cribs. That

was even an improvement over what existed before. On the wall of our shop Dad had a strange

looking glove with a metal peg attached. He said it was a husking peg used to strip the husk from

each cob when they picked the corn by hand and tossed it in a wagon.

In those days of old-fashioned harvesting methods the Nonpartisan League was born. Exactly

one-hundred years ago in 1923, the “Nation” magazine pronounced, after the League’s heyday,

that the NPL was “one of the century’s outstanding political events in America.” A strong

statement like that deserves some attention.

Go back to the year 1912 and find where A. C. Townley lost his flax crop due to an early frost

north of Beach, North Dakota. His bonanza-like farm covered over 7,000 acres. For money to

operate his farm he had borrowed about $80,000 from various places which now couldn’t be

repaid in full. The money he had borrowed would be equal to about $2,500,000 today. A major

source of contention for him came when his remaining equity was wiped out on the Minneapolis

and Chicago commodities exchanges as they drove the price below the cost of production.

Recognized as a talented organizer, he soon found the focus for which he is remembered. He

knew things must change since farmers felt exploited. As a farm state with little infrastructure,

farmers found themselves at the mercy of out of state industries such as railroads, banks, and

grain millers that considered North Dakota a colony to exploit for raw materials.

Townley was determined to spread the word and recruit membership. He started by walking

from farm to farm where he’d convince them to join. His effort was supported in a few weeks

when supporters pooled their money and bought him a Model T Ford. As the word spread he

found farmers in agreement and the organization bought more Model Ts. At its peak there were

250,000 paying members in the NPL.

There is much involved in the way the NPL organized and operated to a successful end, but

simply by 1919 they dominated state government. We know that some of their successes live on

today in the Bank of North Dakota with its record profits that neared 200 million dollars in 2022.

The State Mill and Elevator remains a positive force in the state’s economy. The majority of the

grain it purchases is from North Dakota growers or grain elevators to the tune of about 206

million dollars. The North Dakota Mill receives no funds or financial assistance from the State ofNorth Dakota to subsidize the milling operations. Selling value-added milled wheat products

generates all operating funds.

The Public Service Commission was given authority over the telephone companies in 1915,

and over all public utilities including water, gas, steam heat, and electricity in 1919. One of their

responsibilities is maintaining standard weights and measures. I know that the gallon of gas I

pump measures an actual gallon or the bushel of grain I sell pays me a bushel’s worth.

As happens so often, the king of the hill comes tumbling down. The NPL met opposition from

the Independent Voters Association who were strongly supported by small businessmen and old-

line politicians who felt disenfranchised. Their strength began to wane and through the years

little attention is paid to the history of the NPL.

The NPL governor Lynn Frazier became a victim in an ironical turn of events. The state

historian Elwyn B. Robinson wrote to the point in History of North Dakota: “In 1920 the voters

had approved a League-sponsored constitutional amendment by which petitions could bring

about an election to recall a state official.” The governor signed off on it. Then voters turned

around and used it to kick him out of office.

It’s already forty-five years since a film about the organization’s beginning and initial success

made the rounds. “Northern Lights” was filmed in a grainy black and white format reminiscent

of the time it depicts. Restricted by budgetary concerns, filming needed to continue in spite of

conditions. Therefore we see a threshing scene captured in an actual snowstorm. You can feel the

cold!

The movie dramatizes the founding of the NPL and was recognized for a major award. It

represents a fictionalized version of the farmers movement, but the factual renderings can be

found in history books. It’s a fascinating time where farmers took control of their own destiny.

Lovers of our state history can take a deep dive into the personalities, accomplishments, and

demise of “one of the century’s outstanding political events in America.”

RANDOM THOUGHTS - November 11, 2023

Veterans Day - Will new Vikings quarterback look good again tomorrow? - I’m keepin’ busy as I wannabe writing pieces for newspapers -  Warm weather for next few days - News from Ukraine dropped out of sight after attack on Israel - I’m writing poems for the next gathering in Medora on Memorial Day weekend: blacksmith, feed store, etc. - I went to two funerals this week: Alvin Wall and Clint Devitt - Wishin’ success for school reunion next summer - Deer season started, be ready to duck - 

Remembering Ransom County's Veterans

    I remember the time one of my grandfathers took me fishing at Lake Tewaukon. I was too young to appreciate it and didn’t know the first thing about catching a fish. He helped me bait the hook, probably with an earthworm, and throw it in the water. Impatience ruled my six or seven year old sensibilities as I was having no luck at all. He was given to periods of introspection and probably didn’t want to be bothered because he told me to sit still, watch that bobber, and don’t take your eyes from it.

     I don’t know how much time passed before he finally decided it was time to head for home, something for which I was very glad. I could finally take my eyes from the bobber. When we arrived home, my parents were in the barn milking, and of course my mother came to ask how we’d done. I still remember looking up at the moon and seeing that darn bobber bouncing up and down in there. That episode with Grandpa came to mind again with the approach of Veterans Day. 

     We mark another Veterans Day on November 11th in remembrance of the fighting that ended in World War One on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918. Ransom County did its share in contributing to the war effort. Undoubtedly, the best evidence of that can be found in the book one-time Lisbon residents Ann and Michael Knudson wrote titled Ransom County’s Loyal Defenders. The book published in 1910 accumulates the information they rounded up from various sources.

     They reported over 600 of the county’s men and at least five women served in various branches of service. Their names appear in an index and many of their brief biographies fill the pages. It is easy to guess while reading it that on a per capita basis, Ransom County did its share, maybe more. 

     We don’t often think about World War One anymore. The last survivor died in 2011. He was one of about five million men and women from the United States who wore the uniform. In the short time we were overseas 53,402 of them were killed.

     That war had been grinding on since the time a young Serbian patriot shot and killed Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria on June 28, 1914. An amazing entanglement of treaties drew in participants from all over Europe. Soon all of Europe was involved.

     At first the remembrance of it was called Armistice Day and declared a legal holiday 20 years later. It was renamed Veterans Day in 1954 when President Eisenhower signed it into a law to honor American veterans of all wars for their patriotism and willingness to serve and sacrifice.

       Several reasons why this country entered the war can be given, one being the fact of a German submarine sinking the SS Lusitania which killed 1195 people, 128 of them Americans. Others included Germany’s invasion of Belgium, US bank loans to Europe could be lost if Germany won, German submarines were sinking ships at sea, and the decoding of the Zimmerman Telegram. It was a coded message to Mexico from Germany promising them a piece of U. S. territory if they’d help. Our citizens became stirred up and the United States entered the war in April of 1917.

     Unfortunately,Veterans Day, one of eleven federal holidays, gets little notice except for the fact that banks close and there is no mail delivery.  For many that’s an inconvenience. Personally, I try to remember it each year by writing something about it. 

     Back to my grandpa and his introspection while fishing, someone in the family asked if he’d talk about the war. He said, “You wouldn’t want to know.” He was keeping his thoughts to himself and that was that. To learn something of what he experienced I needed to dig up the history and read it for myself.

     He was a private in the 362nd Regiment of the 91st Division. History of this regiment and division is readily available and I put a picture together. Space won’t allow much detail, but one episode of their attack on a German position stands out. His regiment gained their objective but were forced to withdraw because regiments on either side could not keep pace and protect their flanks. He pencilled a brief remark of their retreat in a little pocket Bible, “We lost half our men.”

     Ransom County service members served in a wide variety of units and battle situations. According to the Knudson book, a total of 31 men and women died in service, seven of them were killed in action, two from accidents, and the others from illness, most likely from the flu epidemic that raged among them.

     We heartily celebrate Christmas and 4th of July, but a once popular Thanksgiving has mostly landed in the midst of Christmas shopping.  About as much enthusiasm is shown for Veterans Day as is Columbus Day. All of them claim solid reasons for commemoration but few care. I intend to recall Veterans Day by way of this reflection.

   

   

East Dakota - West Dakota?

 A few days ago we heard a cowboy say, “I just learned how fast I can run.” With a grin he explained, “The darn bull chased me over the fence.” It was part of the lighthearted banter at the wedding we recently attended in Mandan. In many weddings in that part of the state the cowboy culture rules. The groom and groomsmen wear nice jackets and ties but almost always finish it off with hats, jeans, buckles, and boots. I was out of step in my slacks and dress shoes, but I rejoiced because the beer was free, so I was happy.

My wife comes from that part of the state and through the years I’ve developed a healthy regard for its landscape filled with large herds of cattle, endless fenced pastures, and buttes that try to reach the sky. As you drive there you can tune to AM radio stations featuring advertising for livestock handling equipment, bull sales, feed suppliers, and more in the way of agricultural production. I still relish the taste of those hamburgers at Kist’s sale barn and enjoyed the elbow- to-elbow atmosphere there with the cattlemen talking about bulls, prices, and hay crops.

Sure, there are pockets of the cowboy culture thriving closer to home. A hat and boot wearing cowboy will feel right at home in a McLeod or a Fort Ransom setting, but that is on a much smaller scale.

The idea exists that the North and South Dakota arrangement should have used the Missouri River to divide the land mass into East and West Dakota. Two distinct personalities present themselves. First of all, if you like flat land stay in the east. The glaciers swept through here and leveled the land flat as a pancake you might say. The west river area never experienced the sweep of moving ice.

The soil is richer in the east making it more favorable for crop farming, whereas the west’s rolling grasslands support a ranching with a cattle economy. I remember when small cattle herds were common in the east, too, and fences surrounded much of the acreage. The changing times brought large machinery that needed larger fields to operate more efficiently, and fences, even some shelterbelts, were in the way and started disappearing. On the small farm where I grew up, we milked about sixteen head of cows besides keeping some sheep and hogs. Today that would have been a very inefficient operation that could not sustain itself. Present owners have torn out the fences and trees.

In my lifetime a new ingredient added itself to the economy of West River. The first major discovery of petroleum in North Dakota was in 1951. Petroleum was discovered in a wheat field on the Clarence Iverson farm near Tioga in Williams County. This first oil-producing well was called Clarence Iverson No. 1. I was nine years old at that time and remember it clearly because it made big news. Look at what happened. Multi-millionaires have resulted from all the holes drilled deep into the earth. One state source reported the number of oil and gas wells in

production in North Dakota was 18,179 in July 2023. Besides the strong place that oil made for itself in the economy, western North Dakota also contains a huge deposit of lignite coal, the single largest deposit of lignite known in the world. It has found a ready market in the production of electric power.

The eastern section claims the largest population in the state, mostly because of its wide range of industries supplying employment. The industrial economy is aided by a factor not often thought of: two interstate highways intersect in Fargo. That fact greatly aids the influx of raw materials and the shipment of finished products. Our governor has done well enough in his Fargo base as a businessman to run for president.

We can’t forget about first beginnings, though. Everything stated above has occurred within 134 years of statehood plus a few years of territorial status, which as history goes is not long. It matters little, but this is my favorite period of state development. The railroads, notably the Northern Pacific were itching to extend the rail lines westward. They employed a very able agent named William McKenzie to extend and defend their interests.

McKenzie was what we can call a “mover and a shaker.” The capital of Dakota Territory resided in Yankton, but he, on behalf of the Northern Pacific, worked to move it to Bismarck. A lot of political power came from Minneapolis-St. Paul and with the railroad aiming toward Bismarck, that is where they wanted it located. They held a huge land grant and needed to entice settlers onto the land so their production could be shipped eastward.

Many reasons for a north-south split can be mentioned, but one University of North
Dakota history professor’s quote in Time magazine simply said, “the south half just did not like the north half.” The outcome and historical reasons for the territory’s division has no bearing on the present. We just end by saying it is what it is. The names East Dakota and West Dakota simply do not exist. As I continue driving west on future road trips, I’ll just enjoy the changing view through my windshield as I head to the western part of North Dakota.