Friday, November 30, 2007

1915~~Ninety Two Years Ago

APRIL 1915

Man escapes from jail by tying little strips of wood together and reaching the keys. Other prisoners chose not to escape.

Column called “Merely Mentioned” which is the town gossip

Newspaper novels continue
Column called The Country Round About stating interesting news gathered in and trimmed down by wide awake correspondents of the news-press

MAY 1915

Streets may be paved during present summer
Clean up day next Monday
Man slips on log while fishing and drowns at dam
Baseball games
All is ready for the library opening
Formally dedicated on May 11, 1915

Courthouse news includes marriage licenses and wolf bounties paid.

Man dies from chiropractic treatment

150,000 pike fry released by the old boat landing.
53 graduate from Lincoln High
Winning slogan for Thief River Falls:
“You’ll come back to Thief River.”
It was selected from a group of 150 essays.



JUNE 1915


Move Central School
Over crowding
Enrollment
Knox 337 students, 8 rooms, 42 per room
Washington 405, 9 rooms, 45 per room
Central 384, 8 rooms, 48 per room
Lincoln 351, 30 per room
State board of Education states 20 is max.

Free County Maps
Pennington becomes dry
St. Hilaire woman seriously hurt in runaway
Horses spooked by fluttering cloth
$50,000 in damages to the Thief River Falls Grocery

TRF to have another paper. It will be 16 pages, published during the first week of every month and the first issue will be out about July 10. It is called Loken’s Store News.

A band of roving gypsies traveling in six wagons and two buggies arrived in town Thursday and began a canvas of the city telling fortunes. Several of the female members of the band pretended to be magicians, and clearly demonstrated the fact when they picked the pockets of several residents. They were headed out of the city and left for Bemidji. It has been learned that this same band has been chased from practically every place at which they have stopped.

JULY 1915
Frank Toudell drowned in river. Drink and worry caused loss of mind. High water and swift current make recovery of the body impossible at this time.

State board looking for site for women’s reformatory. Thief River Falls considered.

Automobile contests are an absolute violation of the law

TG Moi Kills Alma Gutterud in jealous rage then sends bullet through his own head.

21 years ago, (1894)
Chicken thieves busy; Farmers are indignant.
Strawberries scarce this year.

Notice to dog owners. All dogs must have collars and a 1915 license.

AUGUST 1915
Hanson and Barzen to sell lumber yards
City to purchase private dam
Northern Hotel and Cigar Factory burned to the ground

Special election to be held September 30 to vote on buying the private dam for $88,000

SEPTEMBER 1915
New Hospital is formally opened. Physician’s Hospital is a corporation. It cost $20,000 to build.

School opens for fall with 1,254 students
Third Theater to open. The Princess Theater

Voters will not agree to buy the dam site

Prominent farmer killed At Angus
Eye witness states he was about 7 rods from the track when the collision occurred. The man was standing up in his car. The train stopped about 7 telegraph poles later.




Pennington called the “baby county of the state”

OCTOBER 1915
Early churches are:
Scand avian
Methodist
Lutheran
Catholic
Presbyterian


Soo line present building completed in 1914 for $60,000.

Schools
First year, 3 month term
Kids sat on planks resting on powder kegs
Ten kids, eight of them are the LaBree family
The first school was a small log cabin in the grove west of the iron bridge.

Later named District 107
School was on Third Street
West side school records 1891 but the first taught year was 1883.

Sends out notice in paper for anyone having 12 lots to sell for building. Presently the two schools are on a small lot with a store also on the property.

Central school was built on 12 lots. Property was $1,240

Knox was a different school district. Consolidating of District 57 and District 107 happened in 1900. Now all schools were in District 18.

1908 Present Knox building and the addition to Central
1902 Washington built
1911 Lincoln High

East side of town called Red Lake Rapids
City incorporated in 1896

HOSPITAL
Before the Physician’s Hospital, there was a place called a hospital but it was more like a place where the sick and injured could be treated, than a hospital. The building was located at the north end of Red Lake Boulevard and with its meager equipment available, the institution did all that could be expected. It was called Bethany Hospital

Main Avenue has fire scare. Blaze starting in the meat market threatens old landmarks.

NOVEMBER 1915
New city editor for paper announced.

DECEMBER
Saloons close.

12 3 1915 Ella Elvina Rye is born

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

M-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i in M-i-n-n-e-s-o-t-a






This is another in the series of Woodall map to scrap booking series. As you can see, this back ground map is Minnesota. I wonder what was used to make those circles? Maybe a coffee cup. In today's market, there are all sorts of cutters and shapes. You can trace and cut, you can use a blade in a little gizmo, or you can buy a machine and lots of software to cut all sorts of shapes, letters, and sayings. I heard about something recently that is computer oriented and when you can find the shape, you can copy it using this technology. I can always use the cup for something practical, like coffee.....



Do you recognize the source of the Mississippi where the children and their father are standing? Have you been there lately? We were there a couple of years ago for a wedding and the area now has a many trails and places for one to sit and just enjoy the area. It is estimated a half a million people visit Itasca State Park each year. Husband chimes, "That is almost as many visitors as Mall of America."




Without flipping over pictures and looking on the back for a date. We know this is 1973. We know that because the person sitting under neath the television set is Maria Therese. When we asked Bud who she was, he said, "Baby Anything". She became Nenna sometime early in her life and that name has remained with her. I emailed to ask her if she knew and this was her reply:






"Haha. It is a strange way to get a nickname I think. The way I've heard the story is that I was a very colicky (sp?) baby. Mom would sort of rock me in her arms, in a really big arc, and say, "maneena-maneena-manu" to try to get me to stop crying. Apparently she did it enough that the Nenna part eventually just stuck. I don't have any memory of ever being called Maria. My best friend from high school told me that I should consider myself very lucky because I could be walking around being called Manu ."






( I am still laughing about it!)






Rachel on the car listening to her first watch on or near her seventh birthday. It was her first time piece. Bud is in the life jacket, a picture from the summer.






Deer Town was designed to look like a frontier village. Wildlife included deer that can be fed by hand and trained bears. There was a Billy Goat Gruff Bridge, a children's farm, trout pond, museum and playground among the highlights. It was a nice, simple day outdoors walking among the animals. Life is different now and Deer Town has closed.




How many children in today's world get to pet a deer and feed it close up? Will they know what they are missing?

Monday, November 26, 2007

Looks like a Trip to Canada!

I must have been nearly out of pages when I chose a complete United States map for this page. My, my, weren't we worldly? We spent more than one summer holiday on the North Shore and into Canada as well as double runs to Wisconsin, Michigan, and of course, Minnesota.

Mackinac Island in Michigan was an especially fun run. We rode our bikes around the island. Bud got out ahead of us and when the rest of us crossed the finish line, he said, "What took you guys so long"? That year we had an old Chrysler with a dent in the door. We had the four bikes strapped on the top of the trunk. When we got to the border, the patrol didn't even want to have us open the trunk, (we would have had to unload the bikes and take off the car top carrier). Honest, we looked like a family on the move out of some dust bowl.

Another trip included the sand dunes. When I asked a friend if they were as big as the grocery store, he just laughed and stated, they were a lot bigger than Kroger's. The only disappointment of the trip was Bud was too young to drive the dune buggy.




How we managed to drive to the Dells and Story Book Gardens, take in the North Shore, (see Rachel sitting in the fore ground with Split Rock Light House in the back), go to the museum at Grand Portage and on to Fort William at Thunder Bay and still make it to Thief River Falls, is beyond me.





We liked the North Shore; Bud could breathe there. We would get just beyond Duluth and he quit zonking. It was during the era of our vacations, considered one of the cleanest air places in the United States. I love the drive, even now.




It was the summer before Rachel was in fifth grade. I know that because of the length of her hair. I see they were both still wearing clothes made from fabric they picked out and designed. The rule was, crunch it in your hand, if it wrinkles in a ball, find something else. Bud could not have Coke or Pepsi because of allergies, therefore picked out pajama material with the Pepsi logo on the fabric. He stated if he couldn't drink it, he could wear it.



Fort William at Thunder Bay was marvelous. Where else could be travel back in time to 1815 at an authentic duplicate of Old Fort William, which was the inland sight of the North West Company of Montreal. The present fort is about 9 miles from the original sight. The entire fort was recreated to include characters, sounds, sights, and smells. People in period costumes went about their daily chores. Most impressive was the idea that the Native Americans put pine boughs in their tee pees to sleep on.



Its a long way from pine branches to space beds! And to think that most of the nights were spent in a 7 x7 tent. Good grief, what people do to cut corners. We all pretended that we just loved camping! I know the kids liked eating frozen brownies which had been floating around in freezing water in the bottom of the cooler. Will any of us eat Spam, fried potatoes, (those little canned white ones), and eggs scrambled all together for breakfast? I am not raising my hand. But we did then. And it was okay. And regardless of the 'grapes of wrath' sort of migration, we were able to vacation and we did laugh and we did play and obviously we did create memories.

This ends the series of map for scrap. There are others. And there are memories. I challenge you to put pictures and written memories together.



e

Mexico in Late Winter of 1972 11 27 2007



This is another in the series of 'map n scrap' pictures. Yes, another page out of the Woodall RV book. As you can see, there aren't as many campgrounds in Arizona was there were in Wisconsin during the same time period. Or, better said, out of the same book.


It was late February, early March. Bud, who had turned one the previous September had a terrible winter. His sister brought home several viruses from school. I know it is said the average child has 150 viruses before they settle down to one or two a year, I am certain Bud had all of his that winter.


My parents were spending the winter in Arizona. This time, they had bought a house in one of those Del Webb communities at Sun City. They invited us to come and spend a few days and get Bud into some sun. It was a welcome invitation. Even as we left Kansas City, we were trying to get antibiotics into him. We had put the medicine in his drink. He smelled each drink and then drank out of the one that didn't have ground pills in it.


While at Sun City, we went to some of the model homes. They were decorated very nicely. One of them was done in Victorian. It had Queen Anne furniture and a large glass topped dining room table. Daddy looked at the table and then said, "I wonder what it would be like to try to eat at this table with a big dog drooling under the table". I can see Diamond's nose prints on the underside of the table. I can hear mother not being happy about it.



The sun was wonderfully warm. We liked driving around the city in the golf car, we liked to go to the nursery and look at all the azaleas. Beyond the nursery was a grocery store. I don't remember the name of it, I just remember the yellow lettering. We liked taking Rachel swimming and going to the zoo.


We didn't know it was almost a four hour drive to Mexico where we crossed into Nogales. Rachel bought a little leather tooled purse and a quartz donkey. We ate at a Kentucky Fried Chicken on the way back to Sun City. Bud would say his first word, MORE. I would have a chance to walk a bit in the desert and look at a cactus close up; Mother didn't get out of the car, she was certain a snake would come and bite her.


If there were only two photos I could keep, it would be Bud getting his shoes polished in Mexico and Rachel in her yellow bathing suit. If I could only have one, I would scan them side by side and call it one.


Treasure your memories; treasure your photographs.


e



PS Bud came into wellness and managed to stay there for some time.

The SWAT Truck


History of this picture: The paper is a map out of the Wornall's RV book which I bought at the library book sale. The numbers represent the camp ground's listed in the book, in this case, Wisconsin. Consider it early scrap booking. There are three pictures in this series.


Our summer vacation plan was to go to the Dells, Baraboo, and Green Bay, Wisconsin and travel the southern route of Lake Superior then go to Thief River Falls to see family. We would stop at Island Lake near Bagley and have a visit with my parents before going on to TRF. We would clean up the truck at the rest stop before going to the lake. After all, we where proud of our one-of-a-kind pretend RV.


Our rig was a mail truck which we remodeled to sleep four. We brush painted the outside with green paint. It leaned a little; we had too much weight in the cabinet on one side. We tested its efficiency locally by camping at local lakes. Because we had worked hard on decorating it, we stamped it efficient whether it was or not remains a mystery. I do know that my children will never forget the SWAT truck.


Two benches joined together in the rear of the truck to form a near double bed, which dropped down to make seating couches during the day. The open area under the benches was used for bedding and drape storage during the day, as well as clothes. I remember it as being a no pillow vacation. The kids each had a home made washable bear; one was pink and the other black. I remember both of them sitting in front of the front load washer at the laundro mat watching the two bears go round and round in the drum. Betty and Barney, knowing my kids, there was a song or a story going on.


Mail trucks had back doors with tracks like a garage door. We built a bed for Rachel. It was a piece of carpeted plywood which was dropped down and held just above our sleeping area at night by chains. During the day, it was locked up on the back door tracks. One night one of the chains came off. Imagine Rachel's surprise. It was called a swing bed because it moved when she moved. I can remember the expression on her face, I wish I could remember what she said.


Bud was short enough to sleep on the dash which was also carpeted. All the windows had curtains, which were folded and stored during the day. A five gallon jug contained water. A pump was rigged so you could get a drink, except, of course if you were going up hill. The truck didn't have much power. The transmission whined.


We had been problem free until we got to Thief River Falls. We turned off the engine at Grandma's house and it wouldn't start. Someone knew to get parts from the local parts store and fix it. The other Grandma didn't want the rig parked in the driveway. She compromised by putting a piece of cardboard down so the oil it leaked would drip on the box instead of the driveway.


My grandfather came to see us. He was in his late nineties and was now riding a three wheel bicycle. He had coke bottle glasses because of cataract surgery and didn't see very well. He fell down the steps in the house, dislocated his thumb, got on his bike and went home.


Why did we do that? Why did we buy an old crappy worn out mail truck and make it into a RV? I don't have a clue. It just seemed like a really neat thing to do. Perhaps poor folks have poor ways. It never occurred to me that something so ridiculous would be an object to point at; nor did it matter to me if they did.
The truck was the second vehicle. It was driven to work. The driver was certain people thought he was a drug peddler. The brush painted vehicle disappeared. Where would the boys play? The SWAT truck was history. The memories remain.
Not by air mail.
e



Sunday, November 25, 2007

Ode to Neal Fox

This is Miss Peterson's fifth grade class at Knox. It was taken in 1955. Neal Fox took the picture. When I printed it, my sweet Thomas said, "How come you have that smirk on your face and no one else does?" I told him it was probably because I knew the photographer. He didn't buy that, he was certain I was up to something.


Today's post is dedicated to the man who introduced me to photo chemicals. When I read his obituary, I couldn't believe he was 85 and deceased; he was timeless and immortal to me.


I went to the Pennington County Historical Society website to see if I could find a picture of him, after all, he took pictures of everything else, why not himself? The only thing I found was him in a group of Shriner's. He was part of an Oriental Band.


An arrangement was made between our Girl Scout leader and Neal Fox for our group to go to his studio and and process negatives. Enlarge!!! Print!!! Smell those chemicals! That experience set me up for life. Perhaps only Mr. Fox and myself understand how exciting it was to see an image appear on photo paper. I was in the right place at the right time with the right person to encourage me to make photography a lifetime sport.


At about the same time, I was in a style show. Imagine me in a hat and dress gloves. Neal Fox took the picture, it became an oil painted photograph. It cost $65.00 in 1956. Mother had the picture hanging in her bedroom. It is now in the craft room here at the house.


When my daughter was taking photography in junior high, we bought her a used enlarger and photo pans and blocked off the light in the bathroom. It became the dark room. Rachel processed her own negatives and printed her own pictures and smelled her own chemicals. Later, Ryen, the youngest, would process pictures at home. He had photography last hour and by then, the chemicals were poor, he got much better prints at home.


Neal Fox took confirmation pictures, portraits for graduation, and weddings for many of us over the years. His studio was in the basement of the Elk's building at the corner of Third and LaBree. To ascend the steps and open the door meant instant aroma of chemicals. It became a perfume.


Neal Fox made a difference. I like to think it is one of the people that affected me in such a good way that I passed it on to my children, although they may not know the story.


In today's world, with digital technology, we can crop and print, and recolor. Although there is an art to it, it is not the same as the step by step process used by Mr. Fox. When he took pictures of weddings, for example, he had to know what was in his frame to develop later; at a recent wedding, the photographer, using digital, could see if the picture had merit after he snapped the photo. I am certain both photographers had an inner sight but my money is on Mr. Fox, who, with his sense of humor, always enlightened me.
I know there isn't a person out there that hasn't been affected in some remarkable way by someone. It may be a teacher, a neighbor, or a friend. It is never too late to retrace steps and find out who the person was and how you became more because of them. It is never too late to whisper a thank you.
Thank you, Neal Fox.
e







Saturday, November 24, 2007

The Pine to Palm Tour on the Jefferson Highway

This is the route of the Jefferson Highway

Imagine driving the above Studebaker in the winter in Minnesota.

WINTER OF 1926
The newspaper states........

Pine to Palm tourists will stop in Thief River Falls coming from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. Business men from Winnipeg will make an auto tour to New Orleans, leaving Winnipeg January 23 and making this city their first stop. They will prove that the north end of the Jefferson Highway is not snowbound. Local folks are encouraged to join.




100 business men stop in city on the Pine to Palm tour. There will be an elaborate program.



The Pine to Palm tour is on schedule in spite of the storm. The writer for the Warren Sheaf stated it was the worst blizzard in Manitoba in years. There were only two mishaps on the 174 mile tour to Thief River Falls. The service car broke a wheel at Emerson and the last car in the party continued south on the Pembina trail until it went in to a ditch at Wylie.

Provencher, proprietor of the Evelyn Hotel accompanied the group in this Studebaker sedan. The Provencher sedan turned over in the ditch near Albert Lea, Minnesota. Another four cars were held up for repairs.



There are 30 cars in the cavalcade of Pine to Palm. The last writing was from Joplin, Missouri which is 1339 miles from Winnipeg and 855 miles from their destination. The party traveled 2194 miles over the Jefferson Highway.


The Jefferson Highway was replaced with the new numbered US Highway system in the late 1920s. The tour in the winter of 1926 was not the first tour but the only one mentioned in the Times.


This Highway was organized in November, 1915, at New Orleans, Louisiana. It was organized for the dual purpose of providing a great north and south highway and to honor the name of Thomas Jefferson for the part he took in the Louisiana Purchase.

The first thought was to have the course of the Jefferson Highway entirely in the Louisiana Purchase, but that was sentiment. When the time came to actually lay the course it was found to have slipped over into Texas and gotten east of the Mississippi River for a space, in Minnesota.
The Jefferson Highway, which many readers may realize by now is the predecessor to Highway 71, was numbered Highway 1. Highway 71 does not run through Thief River Falls. The only US highway is 59, which stops in Lancaster, MN at the Canadian border and at Laredo, Texas. Pretty hard to get lost on the way to Galveston, only have to look for one number!
Other roads in Thief River Falls are MN 1 and MN 32. The number one route was given the Highway 1 designation because it was one of the longest trunk highways in Minnesota. It stretches across northern Minnesota east/west from Ely to Oslo. It was constructed in 1933 and stretches 346 miles.
Minnesota Highway 32 is located in west-central and northwest Minnesota. It goes north to Greenbush where it ends. The other end of this 146 mile trunk is near Barnesville, MN.
One may take US Highway 10 out of Fargo and intercept 32 east of Hawley to go to Thief River Falls through towns named Twin Valley, Gary, Fertile, Marcoux, (now just a corner where US Highway 2 crosses), Red Lake Falls, St. Hilaire, and then, Thief River Falls.
What is the difference between a US highway and a Federal highway? Think about the US highway system as before the Interstate Highway system.
The United States Highway System or simply as "US" highways, was the first time in history that a national standard was set for roads and highways.

This system was created by the Federal Aid Highway Act of 1925 as a response to the confusion created by the 250 or so named many named highways, such as the Lincoln Highway or the National Old Trails Highway. Instead of using names and colored bands on telephone poles, this new system would use uniform numbers for inter-state highways and a standardized shield that would be universally recognizable. The most important change was that this new system would be administered by the states, not by for-profit private road clubs. Even then, people decried the idea of giving roads numbers since they felt numbers would make highways cold and impersonal. Does it?
Would you rather get directions stating "Take the Paul Bunyan highway" or would you rather receive directions stating, "Take 2 out of Duluth, then go north on 59 at Erskine".
Anyone out there want to fold the maps for me?
e




Friday, November 23, 2007

Black Friday

It is not like I am a little girl standing next to the counter at Penney's waiting for Grandmother to get her change. I am not looking up at the series of wires between the ceiling yet above the heads of shoppers watching little canisters travel on wires to what I imagined was a big cash register in a safe place above the crowd.

It is not like I am shopping at Weaver's with a little girl in hand when I waited for my change from the vacuum system that store had that sucked up the little canisters. And the little girl wondering where the canister went, then taking her to the place so she could see but not being able to explain just how and why the system was built into the store.

It is not like I am going to an ATM and have that system suck up the canister either.

It is more like I am a shopper on black Friday and the only vacuuming of money will be the call of the bargains simply sucking it right out of my pocket, if I choose. I guess the sucking up has to do with how tight I make my own belt.

It is not an era of five cent thread
It is not an era of $13.84 onyx rings with a diamond chip
It is not the simple era of PONG
It is not the era of regifting like the tie that went from Benhard to Severt for many years along with the Christmas card, written in pencil and erased until the paper was worn.

It is an era of inner magic for those of us who choose to let the little child inside of us come out from its safe hiding place and just be awed by the imagination of store decorations, grown ups bustling with packages, and charming ornaments in which we can see our faces. It is a time to think about a little girl who loves pink and butterflies and look for butterflies in all forms and while looking hope to see a lady bug.

Aren't lady bugs and butterflies wishes like kisses and magic and marvels for young and old alike? I dare you to look into a glass ornament and smile and feel an elf ring a bell in your ear.

I wish you joy and five cent thread.

e




Thursday, November 22, 2007

Thanksgiving

Stanley and Ella Ranum with Gregory on Thanksgiving Day at Rosewood, 1941


NOVEMBER 1922
Rosewood News The Ostgaard Family from Gatzke spent Thanksgiving with the Benhard Ranum’s. (Cora was Benhard's sister).


NOVEMBER 1929
Thanksgiving
Mr. And Mrs. Benhard Ranum and Benny Ranum were entertained at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Otto Ranum at Warren on Thanksgiving. (Otto was Benhard's half brother. Otto's son lives in Oregon, few days go by without hearing from Patrick).


NOVEMBER 1941
Mr. And Mrs. Stanley Ranum and son and Mr. And Mrs. Harry Ranum and son spent Thanksgiving at the Mr. And Mrs. Benhard Ranum’s. Greg would have been a little over one year old and Bruce was less than six months old).


NOVEMBER 1955
Mr. and Mrs. Benhard Ranum were entertained at the Stanley Ranum residence for Thanksgiving dinner. And this is the rest of the story..........


Fall started early in Thief River Falls that year. While moving to the country on and around Halloween, it began to snow and it didn't look like Mother Nature had a plan to stop it any time soon. It was to be a harsh winter.



Daddy bladed the snows from the circle drive often. Already banks had begun to form along the block long entrance from the highway. As soon as the ground was frozen, he would push it even farther away from the road.



A hard wind and a devil of a snowstorm came up the night before Thanksgiving. I slept in a west upstairs bedroom and the sound of the wind was frightening. It was the first time in my life I had heard the howl of the wind. I have never learned to like the eerie sound.



Morning broke bright. The snow was rigid from the wind. It lay in ripples and the sun blazed down upon it. Almost like a bed of diamonds.


The ponies were lined up against the fence, watching the back door. They nickered as Daddy and I walked out of the house. The snow crunched beneath our feet as we walked over the drifted snow. Even our words seemed crisp.


Daddy shoveled to access the tractor as I fed the ponies. Then, the two of us shoveled. The tractor would not start; it was too cold and too old. It was not plugged in. Maybe it would start when it was warmer, like twenty below.


We went back to the house to the aroma of cooking turkey. My Grandparent’s were coming for dinner, how were they going to get from the open highway to the house?



Daddy called them to tell them the driveway was not open. They were snowbound themselves and as soon as the streets in town were open, they would call. Mother fretted, would her dinner be ruined?



Near eleven o’clock the phone rang and they were on their way. Mother put the potatoes on to cook which she would later run through the ricer.


Once again, I layered like an Eskimo and set out to meet my grandparents at the highway. It was cold, I could feel the hair in my nose freezing, and I pulled my scarf up to cover my mouth and jumped up and down to keep warm.


I saw their gray ’49 Plymouth. I began to wave.



Grandpa was dressed in a plaid jacket, it did not hide his pendulous abdomen, and he laughed about being snowbound and talked about really being snow bound years ago.


Grandma looked pursed, as she often did when she was stressed. “Benhard, I am going to run my nylons wading in this snow”, she said. Benhard told her the snow was crusted and would carry the weight of even her. He walked before her and she followed. There were no footprints, the snow was too hard. I was third in line. Grandma in her wine coat, scarf, and black overshoes walked pigeon toed and carefully followed Grandpa.



Dinner was wonderful. Daddy set aside his lime Jell-O with carrots and celery, set on a lettuce leaf and topped with salad dressing and paprika. At any celebration, he questioned why he should eat rabbit food when he could have the real thing. Mother made a tisk-tisk sound with her teeth.


Grandpa kidded Grandma out of her sullen mood.



The tractor started and the driveway was plowed. Daddy went up to the road and got their Plymouth. He started it and let it warm up despite Grandpa insisting it took too much gas.


That evening, I looked out the window. The night was very still. The yard light reflected the glistening snow. I could see the ponies’ breath.



I could hear I was thankful

Fly forward fifty plus years.


I can hear I am thankful.


e





Tuesday, November 20, 2007

The Mystery Solved!





The front of the Anderson house which was purchased from Gust Opseth, note original door.


Left to Right: Gust Opseth, Andreas Opseth, Olaf Opseth, and Benhard Ranum, no door. Note chimney
The back of the Anderson house after the addition, Judy standing in middle. Note windows. Look at the picture in the middle. The picture had to have been taken while the men were standing near the addition showing the back of the house.

HUZZAH!

Thanks to old negatives I can finally move on.

Yah right

e








Communicating in Secret

In the days of the cave man, it is said that men communicated by dragging a women to the cave. Well, that may not have changed but work rules have evolved because of technology.

When do you think handbooks for employees started? Do you think loggers had handbooks? What rules did they follow? Who made them?
At my last occupation, the handbook stated we were not to use the phone for personal calls except in an emergency. I wondered why when my dentist called because I had a toothache why it wasn't an emergency. I learned that emergency calls where difference for different people. I said OH WELL.
Another rule that was in the hand book was, once you resign you may not come back in the building to visit. Except, I was told that was not for me, I could come any time. OH WELL.
By now, the rule book probably states: Turn off cell phones. When I retired, the snack room was musical with phones ringing in most pockets any time of the day. People would say they were at lunch or on break, even when they weren't.
During my time in durable medical in Kansas, there was no rule book but the rules were made up as we went. It got to the point that personal phone calls had to be stopped. People would say they were on their break or at lunch and use it anyway. Some, like myself, took calls before work or after work. There was never a rule about pager messages that were written in code, a pre-text message concept.
Enter cubicles. Enter cell phones. Enter texting. Enter new and more rules. No, no, no. Why does this remind me of prohibitation?
Now, let's think about this: My grandmother's both worked in restaurants. How many times a day did they communicate with customers? Where they ever disciplined for over talking?
What would have happened to Ranum Construction if Daddy had not communicated with his staff and the customers?
What would have happened when I managed a gift shop if I did not talk with customers? I did get in trouble for talking too long, however.
What would have happened if I did not have great phone skills in durable medical? (Gorden said talk to them like you love them).
The question remains. Don't we, as humans need to communicate with others?
What if, everytime we had a thought about communicating with someone we wrote it on a scrap of paper just to see how many emails or phone calls we might make a day. Sort of a poor man's memo. Isn't that what has happened in the job place? Thinking of child equals email?
Now, if a company can write a rule and tell us not to use the phone or computer do they actually think they can cut the thoughts out of our brain? Do they really believe they can re route our thought process by making a rule? Aren't mini emails a way to pass off a thought and go on?
If one can't communicate with the outside world, will there be more internal emails? Won't they get personal? Isn't that worse? Then it is black and white. I think I watch too much Law and Order.
When I started on the Internet I was a junkie. I am still fascinated with its universe. I suspect I always will be.
But this I know: Someone abused the rules so everyone suffers. I hate that rule. I also know that if you put your finger in the dike at point A, the water is going to find a way to point B.
Do people need to communicate? Yes. Will you? Yes. Will you find a loop hole or watch others find it? Yes. Will you? Maybe. Will you say it isn't fair? Most likely. Is it? Most likely.
Can you do anything about it? Like, rewrite the book? Good Luck. Is the book designed for ALL employees? Yes. Do all employees follow it? No.
This blog is dedicated to everyone who ever opened their mouth and communicated in some sort of way, even if you where hushed for it, like in church when your idea seemed much more important than prayer....maybe it was prayer and the humans who made the rules just weren't universal enough to understand.
e

Monday, November 19, 2007

His Name was Joe Duchamp

JULY 13, 1900

SHREWD WORK OF JOSEPH DUCHAMP

By a little sharp diplomacy, Joe DuCahmp catured a Mr. and Mrs. horse thief and secured a stolen rig and they are now both on their way to the pen.

About two months ago, Louis Soucie called on Mr. DuChamp, at his farm 12 miles west of the city and wanted to sell him a span of horses so they could move to the city and work. Mr. DuChamp bought the team giving them a cow in part payment. On the way to town they sold the cow. Last Saturday, Mike Burns called Mr. DuChamp into his barn and showed him a fine rig he had just bought for $60 cash. Joe told him he believed the team was stolen and that the man whom he had bought them of and who left the barn as he came up was Louis Soucie and the thief. Mr. Burns called the man back, Joe confronted him with the charge and made him give back the money. Joe then went up town with Soucie to his wife, who met them on the sidewalk near Langseth's store, (corner of LaBree and Third Street). It was raining hard and while Joe was trying to get the wife and baby out of the rain, Soucie skipped. Joe locked up the horses, then visited Mrs. Soucie who confessed to the stealing of the right from JJ Bell of Devils Lake on July 3. Joe immediately phoned to Crookston, where he believed Soucie had gone and as a result, he was arrested Saturday afternoon and confessed to the stealing of the team he sold to Joe two months ago from Fred Stuart, livery man at Little Falls. Mr. Stuart was wired to and arrived in Crookston on Sunday morning accompanied by Sheriff Rider. The immediately drove to this city and fnding Joe here secured all the particulars, but as Joe had sold the team he paid Mr. Stuart $75.00 from the money he owed Soucie on the former deal. Monday morning, Mrs. Soucie was arrested and taken to Crookston where Mr. Soucie was under arrest, and both of them to were taken to Little Falls for their trial.

Word was sent to Mr. Bell at Devils Lake who arrived Tuesday noon and secured his team, paying Mr. DuChamp a private reward plus expenses.

It displayed shrewd work on Joe's part and as it was through his instructions the parties were arrested, there is not a question but what he is entitled to the state reward.

Seems like an operator, doesn't he?

MAY 1904
Reservation land being sold

5 12 Eleven townships of the Red Lake Indian reservation is to be held at auction in Thief River Falls on June 13. The 160 acre tracts bidding will start at $4 per. It is expected to take about a month. Starts with section 1, township 154, and range 43.


Removal of dead Indians on the eleven townships will be awarded Saturday afternoon. The dead Indians who were members of the Catholic Church, about 20, will be buried at the Catholic cemetery at the Red Lake Agency. Others will be buried at the suitable point on the banks of the Red Lake River just across the reservation line. There is, at present a list of 82 dead Indians, but it is thought at least 100 bodies will be removed. A number of local people will put in bids


BIDS FOR THE REMOVAL OF DEAD INDIANS

The contract for removal of the dead Indians on the Eleven Townships has been awarded to Joseph Duchamp at $14.50 per body. Ed Langevin had the lowest bid at $14.49 but it was rewarded to DuChamp.

The contract will have to be completed inside 20 days. Mr. DuChamp has already commenced work. He has purchased Ole Peterson's gasoline boat and will use this to move the bodies up river. There were 19 bids ranging from $75.00 to $14.49 per person.


In a later paper, it is said the Minneapolis papers have long strings about the work of Joe DuChamp, OF THIS CITY IN REGARD TO THE REMOVAL OF THE DEAD INDIANS. According to the articles, Joe has all kinds of petrified Indians which he found on the reservation and is selling them for cigar signs and hitching posts. (Joke)

JO Duchamp killed near Mavie when auto over turns. Pioneer settler, aged, 72, unable to straighten car out, goes into ditch in November of 1918.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Catch Up Page






If I appear to be harping about the same things over and over, then consider me an angel and let me play my harp.




As you know, I posted a picture of Buddy, the dog, yesterday. Shirley sent me a thank you. Shirley is like that; she appreciates. What I didn't know when I posted the picture was, I was going to find ANOTHER negative of the dog, this time, with Shirley.




What I didn't know when I scanned the old negative was that Shirley was little when Buddy lived with them. I just remember seeing the dog kick up dust on a full gallop to Rosewood. He would have been at least eight, perhaps even nine. I was certain he was an a young pup in 1962.




Next Thought


When Old Trunks closed its blog with the idea of a shared 17th, it did not know that Soozi the quilter would come forth to share that Saturday was also her husband's birthday. It gives the date even more reason to keep it on the calendar. I think I can say we are in agreement to keep November 17.




Next thought


I am, as some of you may know, a feng shui follower in a western sort of way. Although I do not design in a one-in-this-corner-and-one-in-this-corner-and-they-have-to-match- sort of pattern, I do realize within, a delicate sort of balance. I do move things about and change things up on a monthly basis; why I do this with 37 objects is because that is the number of years between seeing Tom. Although one may think it is silly, you may be doing it without knowing it.




We all live in households where things stay the same until something comes up at which time we may be into a change, if we choose. Let me explain; when Max the cat died last month, we got on the carpet cleaning rotation. Although I was complaining about having to move everything out to an email to Soozi, what I realized later was it was a good time for a transformation. I was sitting on the sofa and Tom could hear my design-in-a-mind working. He knows that when the room is put back together, it is going to look different. It is going to be an uncut block of wood. It is exciting to shake it up and see what happens following the feng shui concept. I would not purposely take everything out of a room just for the sake of looking at it as a new palate, however, I will take the opportunity to see what happens! It is certainly an opportunity to decorate for the holidays!




Feng shui is a discipline with guidelines that are compatible with many techniques of agricultural planning as well as internal furniture arrangements. Space, weather, astronomy, and geomagnetism are basic components of feng shui. Proponents claim that feng shui has an effect on health, wealth, and personal relationships.




It is a catch up, cluster thinking sort of day. Please consider in your trek with genealogy OR your life path, that little things mean a lot and are worth another glance. Maybe not for yourself but for others.




e




Saturday, November 17, 2007

The Spitz!! The Buddy dog

We talked about dogs before and we mentioned Buddy, the dog that Anderson's owned. It was Shirley's dog. Old Trunks found this negative and wanted to share it!

This Bud's for you, Shirley!!!

e

Friday, November 16, 2007

The Speak Easy and Speaking Easily



Once a year we go to a local restaurant called The Speak Easy.





The walls are of dark wood, the curtains are red; the booths and chairs are leather. It is a step back in time. There are pictures of gangsters on the walls. The serving staff where black fedoras and ties.





Food names include:



FLAPPER
Two manicotti served on spinach noodles, topped with white sauce and served with a side of rigatoni




TORPEDO
Three jumbo beef or cheese raviolis, two seafood pasta shells topped with Italian tomato tomato sauce and white sauce.







STING
Spaghetti, half lasagna (beef or Italian pork sausage) and eggplant chips.




SNUGGLE BUGGY
Strips of breaded chicken breast layered with a cheesy sauce and baked. Served with broccoli, cheese sauce and choice of potato




CAT'S MEOW
Shrimp and mock crab topped with a cheesy sauce and served on a bed of long grain and wild rice.

And of course..........DROOL ROLL PLEASE.......

New York Cheesecake

We know little of the time of prohibition just that e
nter the super-dry, ultra-religious congressman from Minnesota, Andrew J. Volstead. Never mind that if Jesus tried turning water into wine in the United States, he could have been arrested for bootlegging, or that the Last Supper might have been raided by federal Prohibition agents.


The saloons went underground and became speakeasies. It is said that in the city of New York alone, the number grew to 100,000. Mexico was wet, and Canada was far from dry. The border towns, both north and south, were well supplied with Jos Cuervo and Canadian Club.


On December 5, 1933, the Twenty-first Amendment to the Constitution officially repealed the Eighteenth Amendment—the only time in the history of the United States that an amendment has been repealed—and Prohibition was history.




Never mind all that..........



It is our anniversary and we go there to celebrate because that is where the wedding party of Tom, Brian Johnson, Bud Anderson, and I went for dinner on November 17, 1998. And nearly each year, we have our picture taken by the old car with the cross street signs of Center and Front Street because that was downtown Moorhead.



Tom and I where married in our living room here on Sixth Avenue. Our sons were our witnesses. Our friends and family were represented by a candle for each person. Ryen's candle holder was a crown; he is, after all, a prince. Rachel was represented by a candle holder with ivy that she had presented to us as a gift. My mother wanted her candle holder to be a piece of watermelon. The idea was to give each in spirit guest an image they would be able to visualize.



I came down the stairs and cut five daisy blooms off the plant at the base of the stairs . Fifty five days after Tom and I had reunited, I sent him a plant. I told the people at the florist to pinch off all the blooms, leaving only 55. Later, Tom had heeled it in by the back door. Before we had the foundation professionally insulated, one of the fall tasks was to put plastic around the foundation to keep the warmth in. We had already had a heavy snow. It was never the intention to carry flowers but when Tom said come and look!!! when he had uncovered that heeled in daisy plant in the snow which was still green and had five buds on it, it seemed like a symbol. We brought it in and let it warm and it bloomed five blossoms. One for each: Rachel, Bud, Ryen, Brian, and Bob!



We had kept the watermelon in the fridge until time for the 4 o'clock marriage. The stage was set. I glanced over at the table at the lit candles. There were supposed to be seventeen 'in spirit' guests. Someone was missing. Mother's watermelon was not on the table!



I said to Brian, "Get grandma out of the fridge". He looked at me like he didn't hear me; I said it again, this time loudly. Tom realized that Brian did not understand the cryptic message and explained to him to get the piece of watermelon, which was to be used as a candle holder, out of the fridge.



Tom's dad, Les was born on November 17; Les would be our in memory best man. We did not know that Mother would die that same date in 2002. Instead of dinner at the Speak Easy, we would be with her when she died at supper time. And Bud certainly did not know that in 2007, he would be united in a East Indian ceremony in California, (it is what is endearingly called remarriage, as they were married on October 13 of this year, also).



We are honored to share this day with all who celebrate it in some special way.



et connection

Let's Go Logging!

Look at the size of that load those four horses are pulling.
These are the sleeping quarters. Men brought their axes with them and sharpened them in the evening.

Loggers ate in mess halls. Are those donuts at the end of the table?



This is a group of workers near Akeley, MN. Photographers went from camp to camp and took pictures of the men and sold them to the workers. My step grandmother's father worked in the wood near Akeley when Mae was small. There is a museum dedicated to logging in the village of Akeley.



This is a saw filer. His job was to sharpen the saws for the next days cut.




Looking for new employment? Like the out of doors? Willing to work hard?




Try Logging!!!




Check out these wages in a logging camp. There is a strong demand for workers!!!




Employment conditions in this northern section appear to be quite favorable, judging by the demand for loggers and the wage scale established by certain lumber companies who maintain camps in the logging districts, particularly in the vicinity of Bemidji and International Falls. Logging and allied work is being carried on in full capacity, the demand for employee being considerably greater this year than last season and in some places there is even a shortage. Several hundred men are being employed in the woods of Northern Minnesota but WW Hooker, representative of the International Lumber Company with headquarters at Bemidji, who was in the city Saturday stated that there is still a clamor fro more men, indicating that the industry is rather enlarging its capacity.



The following table shows the wage scale set by a certain lumber concern for woodsmen in this section effective January 1 until further notice: Wages are per month of 26 days.


$40.00

General work, swampers, tailing down, roadway monkey, night watchman around camp, section boss, steel gang men, night watchman around camp

$45.00

Skidding teamsters, cross haul teamsters, sawers, saw filers, four horse tote teamsters, section boss, bull cook, buncher, pincher, hooker, landing men, barn boss, bull cook, cookee (appear to be waiters), jammer watchman, two horse teamster sleigh haul

$50.00

Four horse teamster sleigh haul, hooker, top loader sleigh haul, locomotive watchman

$55.00

Handy man




$60.00 to 80.00

Top loader, Cook, small crew



$85.00 to 100.00

Cook, large crew, engineer steam jammer


H. Gregory of Cass Lake, assistant superintendent of logging on the Cass Lake reservation, was attacked by a large, hungry timber wolf one day last week while returning home through the woods and but for his courage and muscle backed by a stout club he would undoubtedly have lost his life. He stunned the animal with one blow and then hammered away until he killed it.




OCTOBER 1909
Soo Line may go to International Falls; will use old logging trails for development



JANUARY 1911

David LaCoe killed near Baudette by a falling tree while logging



APRIL 1926

Rosewood News Newell Anderson is home from Rainy River where he has been employed in the logging business.
Isn't it odd they didn't mention black smiths?
Save a tree, do email.
e





























































Thursday, November 15, 2007

A Sunrise to See

What do you see in this black and white photograph? What is the subject?
In the era of black and white photographs, the burst of the sun rising and the pink and blue sky wasn't captured in color palette. See how easily we find the subject when color is added.

The experiment was simple, step out on the front step and snap the picture which I saw from the sun room while on the computer recently. It is home like. It is not professional. I did not play with the light and enhance the area over the tops of the houses to bring your sight to the morning sun.

There are hundreds of thousands of professional black and white photographs available to view and buy on the Internet. They offer a dramatic look of any subject one can name. Pine Forest in Snow, Yosemite National Park, 1932 by Ansel Adams comes to mind.


Adams invented the zone system which is a technique for photographers to translate the light they see into specific densities on negatives and paper, thus giving them better control over finished photographs. Adams also pioneered the idea of visualization of the finished print based upon the measured light values in the scene being photographed. One sees this in his work. He was a master of photography and alternated two professions, one as a photographer and the other as a concert pianist. Obviously he had someone nurturing his talents!

Do you, as a photographer visualize your finished product? Do you think about the backgrounds and what they are telling us about the picture? Certainly my friend Ellen was dating the season when she emailed pictures of her grand children sitting in maple tree framed in red leaves. Show Tom a picture of a person holding a fish and he can tell you where and when.

Check the backgrounds of your old pictures. Look for puffs of clouds captured. Enjoy their beauty. We don't know if it was accidental, we just know that clouds, wind, and sunshine make an interesting picture beyond the subject of two people standing next to an old car from California.

The question is, who's car is it?

e