He Returned to the County

 

After the large Sibley Exhibition passed through Ransom County in 1863 at least

one of its participants liked what he saw and returned to live here after the Civil

War ended. He served as a “wagoner,” or a muleskinner, driving a six-hitch supply

wagon.

    We’re interested in the fact that his feat as an old man of seventy-seven prompted

the local Progress editor to write a feature story about it. James M. Kinney had

walked from his home somewhere on the Sheyenne River, a distance of sixteen

miles, in six hours time. On March 10, 1911, snow still covered the ground, in fact

fresh snow had fallen the night before. He remarked he could’ve arrived in

Sheldon sooner, but the snow slowed him.

    Reaching town about two P.M. he had to spend the night until the Northern Pacific

train arrived in the morning on its way to Lisbon. His purpose for traveling was to

spend the winter in the North Dakota Soldiers Home. As was common, overnight

guests often found amusement at Chauncey Durgin’s saloon. That evening

Kinney’s story telling attracted an audience who sat listening to his experiences on

the Dakota plains.

    His early employment of driving a stagecoach in Minnesota wasn’t exciting

enough. He wanted action on the Indian frontier. On his last day he pulled in from

a trip, delivered the mail, and let someone else tend to his team. He walked over to

a recruiter and joined the ranks of Company B, 10th Minnesota as a wagoner under

General Sibley’s command.

    He found action, all right. Before crossing into Dakota Territory, his company kept

engaging in little skirmishes where in one engagement the Indians succeeded in

killing several of their horses. The soldiers fought from behind the dead animals.

When all was said and done Sibley declared his expedition a success that would

prevent further attacks by Indians. They’d traveled 1039 miles in a little less than

three months.

    Now Kinney was free to join the Northern war effort in the Civil War where he

again served as a wagoner. It didn’t take long before he climbed higher in the ranks

by being named chief wagoner. Maybe he was no angel since in the South he

participated in some high jinks. The Union army raided cotton warehouses

whenever they found them. Kinney and the boys tried their hand at a little blackmarketing

 by stuffing cotton in the bottom of their wagon boxes and covering it up

with false flooring. Their effort at marketing didn’t make them any extra pocket

change though since the scheme was discovered.

    A blank spot in Kinney’s life occurs with no paper trail to uncover it. A personal

experience caused me to become interested in his life. I have relatives buried in

much of the sandhill area. While placing memorial flowers in the Owego Lutheran

Church Cemetery I noticed a solitary gravestone on the west edge, its white marble

defined against a green field of corn.

    When he was buried the gravesite had not been marked with a stone. Possibly there

had been a wooden cross which would have soon rotted. His death occurred in

1915, but not until 1939 was a stone grave marker placed. Colonel J. W. Carroll,

Commandant of the North Dakota Soldiers Home, applied for a headstone with the

War Department. He was most likely prompted by the local cemetery board to

make the request.

    I have a copy of the paperwork requesting government action which states “This

application is for the UNMARKED grave of a veteran. It is understood the stone

will be furnished and delivered at the railroad station or steamboat landing above

indicated, at Government expense, freight prepaid.”

    One man was named to receive the shipment - Mr. Henry Ylvisaker. As a

committee member overseeing the cemetery he was to see that the marker was

properly placed. A pencilled notation on the application states it was shipped to

him on August 9, 1939. Are we permitted to imagine a scene on a hot day when

Ylvisaker returned from the train station with this article of freight? Then with the

help of another man or two helping to lift it in place accompanied by a prayer from

the pastor and song of a meadowlark filling the air.