Monday, January 29, 2024

RANDOM THOUGHTS - Monday, January 29, 2024

 Good to hear of a SHS reunion in June    I hear a meadowlark song every time I tune in to Prairie Public radio’s “Dakota Datebook”    What’s my guide: instinct or reasoning?    Our first son turned 48 years old, some gray    A burning question: where will Hutch land? … I’ve joined “Ransom County Historical Society Group” and entered my first post about fords crossing the Sheyenne    Watch “Time Team” on Youtube about English archaeology    Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift, which is why we call it the present    A historical tombstone in Bismarck pictured below  …  



Thursday, January 25, 2024

Fording the River

  Any traffic between Fort Abercrombie and Fort Ransom needed to contend with the Sheyenne River. No bridges crossed it which left two choices available to travelers. The so-called “high-water trail” ran around the river’s big bend and the much shorter, but straighter “low-water trail” which crossed two fords. Because of its being shin deep the spelling of one has evolved to Shenford and the other was known by several names: Harris, Brunton, or Black Tiger. 



Tuesday, January 23, 2024

RANDOM THOUGHTS - January 19, 2024

 

Is it spring yet? … I hope my writing isn’t like this in Macbeth, “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing” … Travels with Charley has a scene where John Steinbeck camps overnight near Alice, ND … My pen is a conduit of thought … One fella I know learned just how fast he could run when chased by a bull … Our chair originally sat in the Sheldon bank … At one time the holes in our jeans were honestly earned … Warmer temps on the way … I’ve found the less I do, the less I can do …



Wednesday, January 10, 2024

Humble Beginnings

The first wheat grown in Ransom County was seeded by Helmuth Schultz. After a successfulgrowing season, he and John McCusker cut the ripened straw with their scythes and gathered itup. When it had dried, they repeatedly drove their oxen over it until all the kernels had been trampled from the heads. We can imagine the next step in the scene by watching the men tossing forkfuls of it high in the air for the chaff to blow away on the breeze. Finally, with the wheat kernels separated, they sacked and hauled it forty miles to Fargo.

    According to the historian Hiram Drache this all happened in 1875. He includes a chart titled “Population growth of Northern Pacific Railway Counties in North Dakota,” where we learn in

1880 only 537 people lived in the county. After the railroad came through in 1882, the number

jumped to 4,282 in 1885.

    The slow trip taken by Schultz to Fargo was necessary if pioneer farmers wanted to sell their wheat or have it ground into flour. For several years the settlers faced this hindrance, and not until the railroad came through did they have an option. 

    In a meadow on the farm where I grew up ran a pair of tracks cut by wagon wheels. Inquisitive, I asked Dad why they were there. He’d been told it was once the wagon trail between Owego and Sheldon where settlers traveled to do business in Sheldon. When I placed a ruler down to connect the two locations, I proved to myself

the wagon tracks in our meadow lay right on the line.

    The progress of the early railroads was followed closely in the newspapers. The March, 1882 Bismarck Tribune reported “The Fargo & Southwestern has fifty miles graded to New Lisbon,

the county seat of Ransom County, no work having been done this winter.” Later the same article stated, “Emigrants are pouring in to the country at an astonishing rate, making it an object to

build railroads rapidly.”

    Perhaps the old proverb about haste making waste applies here. In September of 1882 as the construction crew kept pushing forward and lengthening the track, a horrific accident occurred five miles out of Davenport. A steam engine backed up too far, dropped off the end of the new track, and tipped. The escaping steam scalded the engineer to death. Work did not stop for long

and soon the crew returned to its work.

    The Northern Pacific immediately saw benefits in catering to farmers. So-called emigrant cars delivered farm families, their equipment, and their animals to a new life. It shipped lumber and

other building supplies to them as well as to the new businesses setting up shop. When the train headed back to Fargo it carried the wheat and animals that farmers had started producing.

    In March,1882, the superintendent of the local line said they were grading up convenient and ample driveways on side tracks where farmers can load wheat into cars. He went on explaining that in many cases the grade will rise to where the top of the wagon will be level with the boxcar door. In spite of the railroad’s effort to accommodate the farmer, this was still shovel work.

    As people arrived in the county to settle on the land, the landscape of this tall grass prairie began

changing. Moldboard plows cut into the dense sod and turned it over to prepare for crop seeding.

As the amount of tilled acres increased, the classic clash of cattle and crops was inevitable.

    Farmers didn’t appreciate their cattle or those owned by their neighbors walking over their

promising wheat crop. Nor would a farmer’s wife hold her temper when the neighbor’s bull

stood in her garden. The answer came down to two choices: herd the animals or fence the fields.

A brief mention in an 1886 edition of The Enterprise pointed to the preferred solution. “Barbed wire is going off so fast that Karl E. Rudd ordered his second carload this week. He is selling it

very low and farmers are taking advantage of it.”

    Watching a man plowing caused one of the western artist Charley Russell’s Indian friends to remark, “Wrong side up.” That was the case in those severe drought years in the 1930s, especially in the fragile sandy soil in the eastern part of the county. The sand dunes created by the wind have now been tamed with a grass cover, but the undulating landscape remains. Letters sent to someone in McLeod in its early days actually went to the town of Sandoun.

    While the land was blowing away, residents also had to contend with the historic depression that strangled the economy. The election of 1932 brought Franklyn Delano Roosevelt to the presidency. He soon set out to bring relief to the country suffering from this “double whammy.”

    Part of his attention turned to areas like these sandhills in Ransom County where the sod was“wrong side up” and farmers had begun leaving. Roosevelt’s response was to create the Resettlement Administration (RA) which resettled farmers on more productive land, promoted soil conservation, provided emergency relief and loaned money to help farmers buy and improve

farms.

    The politics of his actions aside, the foregoing outlines the county’s beginnings. We must conclude and skip to the present day where we recognize the land is filled with farm families, the

Fargo & Southwestern still rolls down its tracks, the fragile sandhills have healed, and fences keep livestock in. Modernization and improvements have delivered the area to its present status,

that of being one of the nicest in the state.

Thursday, January 4, 2024

RANDOM THOUGHTS - January 4, 2024

 RANDOM THOUGHTS - January 4, 2024

I ate coconut cream pie this noon at the Sons of Norway … another traffic death who wasn’t wearing a seatbelt … Garrison Keillor told the story about all his friends were dying off and now he’s walking around with a joke in his head with no one to tell it to … I’m rereading Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring. What a game changer she was … When constructing the railroad track towards Sheldon, a steam engine ran off the end of the track, tipped over, and scalded the engineer to death … 

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

Bringing Power to Our World


Today’s farm equipment never fails to amaze with its power, size, and price. Successful farmers continually adapt to the changes in the industry and deal with it. To guess what changes might occur in the future is beyond the ability of this humble pencil pusher to guess. It’s much easier to look back to the time when he’d fire up an old “B” John Deere.


I’m talking about an older model “B” that didn’t have a battery starter. It had a flywheel crank and a petcock for each cylinder which needed to be opened for compression release. With a spin or two or three the engine caught. Those two cylinders started whooshing and pushing exhaust out those petcocks until you closed them again for full power.  


There was a time when many-a two-cylinder “Poppin’ Johnny” could be heard and seen working in the countryside. But that engine possessed a fundamental weakness: it couldn’t grow. Engineers kept tweaking it as far as they could until they admitted they’d have to turn to four-cylinder engines, thus the 4010s and on into infinity.


Expounding on modern farm machinery soon reaches the limit of my intelligence, so it’s better to speak in historical terms. How about some oxen stories? We can safely guess no one living today ever saw them working in real-life, except maybe on some farm festival occasions. We’ve told the story of Don Stevenson and his large oxen-powered wagon train that supplied Fort Ransom when it was built. On their return trip to Fort Abercrombie his outfit stalled in a blizzard near Lisbon.


Not to be discouraged, Stevenson kept freighting westward that summer to the Missouri River. To cross, he rafted his wagons and swam the bulls across. One of his teamsters went to Stevenson with a problem, he couldn’t swim. A practical minded man, Stevenson said just grab a bull by the tail when they’re in the water and hang on. The teamster wasn’t confident that he’d be able to hang on all the way. He found some light rope, tied it to his wrist, and then knotted it on the selected critter’s tail.


When this unlikely pair hit the deep water, the bull looked back to see what was dragging and saw his unwanted passenger. As the story goes, the bull started to swim faster and beat them all to the opposite shore. And still that darn unwanted load kept hanging on which prompted the critter to stampede into the brush. That went on until the man became snagged on a stout bush, stopped short, and snapped the rope.   He stood up, clothing torn, cut, bruised, and like bullwhackers were known to do gave forth with a stream of loud blue lingo. That evening while gathered around their campfire, the men laughed and described to the hapless one how funny he looked bouncing along on the prairie.

 

Another story comes out of the Sheldon area when a couple of teen-age boys were sent to a flour mill with a wagon filled with wheat and pulled by a team of oxen. Think of oxen plodding along with impatient teenagers seated on the wagon wishing they could go faster. It so happened the 4th of July had just occurred and fireworks could still be found. Here the reader’s imagination must stretch to accommodate the scene. Wondering and laughing about what might happen, they lit a small rocket and goosed one of the oxen with it. 


The boys learned a powerful lesson that day when the firecracker struck the animal’s hide and exploded.  They could do nothing but hang on because the panicked pair of oxen proved they could run, stampede, in fact. A wheel fell off and the wagon careened to the side of the trail, struck a tree, and broke up. They last saw the animals topping a rise and high-tailing for home. As for the boys, they walked.


A noteworthy lady named Nancy McClure once lived in the eastern part of the county at Owego told a story of how she became involved in the Dakota War of 1862. Even though she and her Indian husband were on friendly terms with these Indians their lives were threatened. State and county lines did not exist at the time so exact locations can’t be determined. It came time for them to flee the danger and her husband told her to saddle her horse. Now oxen enter the scene.


Her words paint the scene. “We saw a wagon, drawn by two yoke of oxen and loaded with people, coming down the road at a good trot. They were all in great fright. They asked us to put our horses to their wagon as they could travel faster than oxen and to get in with them. This we agreed to do, and soon had the change made. I took my dear little daughter and just as we were about to get in I looked up the road and saw the Indians coming.”


McClure’s story will end here for the time being, but she has earned a secure spot in Ransom County’s history. There is a book length tale to tell of her life. If only I live long enough! As for the story of how we power our implements or convey ourselves around, we can be assured more changes will come.


Tuesday, December 26, 2023

RANDOM THOUGHTS - December 26, 2023

 RANDOM THOUGHTS - December 26, 2023

Ben Franklin says, “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” Trust me, it ain’t easy doing both … Now I know why Tom McGrath said one time that his hands hurt and it was hard to hold a pen. I can still type though … You White Christmas wishers got what you wanted, but did you have to bring ice, too … We’re like Garrison Keillor and have entered a de-acquisitioning stage of life where we don’t buy so much … New Year’s Resolution: Gonna try to lose ten pounds. Clothes don’t fit so well anymore … The writer Ivan Doig accurately states “There are so damn many ways to be a fool a man can’t expect to avoid them all.”

RANDOM THOUGHTS - September 11, 2025

Here we are, a quarter of the way through another century  …  Prior results can’t guarantee future outcomes  …  I don’t have enough book sh...