Monday, May 30, 2016

Ruby Robieson Bennett - Lowry Tales #5



This story happened in Dooley, Montana – but the central character is James A. Robieson who was station agent in Lowry and it was written by Ruby and appeared in the Pope County Tribune.

Railroad Station Agent Heard It First

December 1, 1983
Pope County Tribune, Glenwood, MN

First Word of 1918 Armistice big news in Montana!

(Editor’s Note: In today’s world of instant communication from anywhere in the world via radio and television, most people don’t realize that as recently as 65 years ago, getting word of a major event in the “hinterlands” was quite a feat. Ruby (Mrs. Bob) Bennett of Lowry relates here how the World War 1 Armistice was relayed to a small town in Montana where her father was the depot agent.)

This account of the WW I Armistice was brought to my attention recently by a very old friend dating back to my “Montana days.” She had been my “baby sitter,” our “hired girl,” who became a schoolteacher and, now 79 years of age, is living in retirement in California.  She took part in this electrifying occasion and even this many years hence she pours spirit into the story.

The year was 1918 and the month and date Nov. 11. The hour was 10 p.m. The scene a little town named Dooley, in northeast Montana, near the county seat of Plentywood, still on the map.

The hero of the story is my father, the late James A. Robieson of Lowry, station agent in that little prairie town.  Dad excelled in telegraphy; his keen ear was ever alert to the “wire,” even when off duty. Living upstairs over his office, he’d often listen in on off-hours, and would routinely check before bedtime, especially during those war-weary times, such as we endure now.

There were no radios, nor TVs, in those days, so the “wire” was the main source of late-breaking news, Dad’s alone to hear and to convey to all people in his area. Thus it was he caught the message at 10 p.m. on that famous historical date: The Armistice has been signed at 11 a.m. European time, and the war is over!

Hastily he summoned the “dray man” and the horse-drawn “dray,” then additional helpers moved the fire bell from its original position onto the dray; from there they went up and down the town streets clanging away, waking the sleeping town, shouting: “The war is over!”

As people awakened, they realized the fire bell noise was not coming from atop the jail on the east side of Main Street. As it came nearer and nearer, they saw lots of people following the dray, banging on tin pans, wash boards – anything that would make noise. All were yelling, “The war has ended!”

People hastily dressed to join the crowd, learning the “why”, then also shouting the earth-shaking news.  They followed the bell up one street and down the other, round and round the town; repeatedly traversing the few, small streets, as excitement was boundless.

At last the whole town from old folks to babies, assembled by the pond between the drug store and railroad tracks, where kids skated and rowed boats in proper season.  Somebody commandeered a few grain doors from the railroad and build up a huge bon fire in the ring of stones on the pond shore. Forgetting rationing, the village merchants raided their own store shelves, supplying bread, buns, wieners, catsup, mustard and some butter. They even cooked up a “boiler full of coffee.” The whole town had a real picnic to celebrate.

Then began the impromptu patriotic program: prayers, singing countless war songs, hymns, and much reciting of poetry. Those days, school children memorized lots of poetry.  My friend recalls her recitation: “The American Flag” by Joseph Rodman Drake. Due to its lengthy patriotic description I shall reward you by sharing it in part:

When Freedom from her mountain height
Unfurled her standard to the air.
She tore the azure robes of night
And set the stars of glory there.

Then there was “Paul Revere’s Ride”, “Liberty Bell” and so many more. Night was far gone, only the younger, the smaller had gone home; some never moved from the scene of the joyous outburst all night long. However, it came time to get back to the work-a-day world, so weary villagers proceeded to their duties. Two schoolteachers directed the school children to the schoolhouse, all in no condition to study.

They did manage to get through arithmetic and spelling before recess time came. The two teachers and pupils then all lay their heads down on their desks, forgetting to wake up until long after noon. Even the janitor slept on the hall floor!

Ruby Robieson Bennett
1983

Friday, May 27, 2016

Ruby Robieson Bennett - Lowry Tales #4

My Most Colorful Character



He was a young man, perhaps twenty-three when we first met him.  His job was Night Operator at the railway depot, which was soon to become our home.  We’d reside upstairs in living rooms for that purpose.

Each evening around 5:00 Howard would report on duty to sweep the depot office and waiting room floors, clean out ashes from two coal burning heating stoves, then stoke the fires for the long night during the cold months of the year.  When the night passenger trains stopped at the station he had many jobs:  load on cream cans; take off empty ones; help passengers find their baggage; make certain they had lodging; take the mail bags to the local Post Office; plus keeping the station neat and clean on his shift.

Lowry Hotel in background
One early September morning in 1923, the train stopped at the station where our family ended the long trip from Montana.  We stepped onto the platform to begin our life in Minnesota.  Our first meeting with Howard came as we stepped off that night train, weary from two days and nearly two nights on the train.  Howard took us on the short walk uptown to the hotel where we spent the remainder of the night.  Certainly we were pleased with his gracious manner, and the suggestions he made to Dad as they made small talk enroute to our rooms.

At first we children were delighted that we had, as a playroom, the spacious waiting room with wood benches all around three sides for the waiting passengers.  The large coal burning stove stood somewhere near the center.  What fun to chase each other all around it, until we became quite dizzy with so much circular motion.  Then there were races across the room – and on and on went our fun.



Our family was poor, we had no quiet games to sit and play.  Whatever games we did have came out of our imagination, or ones we’d played with our friends back in Montana.  No TV to sit and watch quietly.  Mother was busy upstairs with the arrival of our new baby sister.  So she was glad we’d found a near-by place to wear off our youthful energy.  But we were to have a sudden change in all our play area plans; in fact our entire lives were going to become more regimented because of Howard.

His very dignified and stern manner gave us to know he took his job seriously.  He looked perversely at the noisy, unruly, much too playful kids from Montana who were about to receive these new orders.  “When I come down to work, you are not to enter into the office, nor are you to play in the waiting room at all.  You are to keep the platform clear of any tools, twigs or branches, baseballs or bats, or such so they’ll not be a hazard at night for train passengers.”  The list went on and on.  We felt policed at every step.  He appeared ready to pounce upon us one by one and drop us off somewhere far away.  To say he frightened us severely wouldn’t scratch the surface.

Why the office had the only pencil sharpener in the whole building!  If we did play out in back of the depot, which was really our yard, he’d soon find fault with that at some point.  Our parents requested we not be too noisy in the evenings, during our playing and working upstairs, as the noise might bother Howard, just below.

So, he filled our days with a difference of opinion about Soo Line property, which was now ours, but which was to be respected at all times, since one never knew when an inspector might “drop off” a train. Howard wanted no demerit because his efforts to keep a clean slate were disregarded.

One evening after school, before Howard came on duty, brother Kenneth had a plan!  He’d probably taken more verbal punishment from Howard than us less daring ones, and now wanted to get back at him.  Ken suggested we cut up several newspapers into small pieces, wet them down real well, and spread the contents all around the perimeter of the waiting room.  Since we weren’t supposed to play there, how could anyone suspect us of this unkind deed?  Being the oldest, I knew it was a wrong thing to do, but went along with the idea since we are felt our privileges had been too severely curtailed. 

Having done the “job”, we three waited upstairs hoping to hear loud exclamations of despair and frustration from below when Howard came on duty.  Instead, a sudden knock came on our door.  There stood the irate Howard with military stance!  “Mrs. Robieson,” he addressed our bewildered Mother in a very scolding tone.  “Your children have made a mess of the waiting room, and their presence is required down there immediately to clean it up!”

Very strange facial expressions were quickly exchanged, as we wondered how he’d EVER guessed it was us!  Mom was helpless – caught between the stern faced night operator and her three mischievous children.  True, she’d no doubt heard us complain about him so many times--his severity, never playful, never even friendly to us, only the dictatorial manner, stern face and quick tongue.  She was sorry to see he caught us in our own misdeeds, but promised Howard “it would never happen again.”  So, we cleaned up the wet paper shreds – then Howard could spread the sweeping compound on the floor, sweep it all up, and set the room to rights again.

Many more times Howard had his way about how things were to be done when he was there.  But long years passed.  Howard mellowed in time and married Mary McIver (much his senior) and their marriage seemed a happy one.

Eventually, Howard and I were the only ones of this story left living in our town.  Sometimes we’d meet on the street to talk and think back to “depot days.”  His witty tongue and mind were sharp as ever and he reminded me,  “I raised you Robieson kids!”  Howard has long since passed away now, but left a permanent scar on my life.  He was truly a colorful fellow.

Ruby Robieson Bennett

Thursday, May 26, 2016

Nicollet Island



I recently attended a talk at the Apple Valley Senior Center about Nicollet Island, its history and the "shakers and movers" in its colorful past, from Joseph Nicollet down the line.  (see the Minnesota Archeologist site for a nice concise summary of the island's history, including a disastrous tunnel collapse in 1869 in an attempt to bring water power to the island. The collapse nearly destroyed the falls and took 7 years to repair. In 1893, a raging fire destroyed most of the buildings in Nicollet Island and leaped to Boom Island to burn 5 million board feet of sawed lumber - my 2015 post Minneapolis-Nordeast also covers some of this history.

Nicollet Island is the largest inhabited island in the Mississippi. It was named for the French explorer and cartographer, Joseph Nicollet. The island sits above the St. Anthony Falls of the Mississippi, across from downtown Minneapolis. The location played a pivotal role in the westward surge of white settlers and the eventual establishment of the city of Minneapolis. The Falls of St. Anthony were named after the patron saint of the early explorer and missionary, Father Hennepin, whose name adorned the first bridge across the Mississippi, as well as the county in which Minneapolis resides, a major Minneapolis thoroughfare as well as a state park and a beer.

Nicollet Island's position above the falls made it a center of the lumber and milling industry booms, leveraging the water power to create industries and jobs that led to an influx of immigrants to Minneapolis - see my Immigrant Stock post.  It also figured in the brewing industry when Nordeast Minneapolis was declared one of the few "Patrol Limits" areas of the city where alcohol could be served and the tunnels on the island served as cold storage for the beer barrels.

Before the arrival of whites, Nicollet Island area, including the falls, were sacred to both the Dakota and Ojibwa. Oral histories indicate that the island was a place for childbirth as the noise of the falls drowned out any screaming and also provided protection from enemies.

As I listened to the talk and learned tantalizing new details about the island, I realized, that although I have biked through Nicollet & Boom Island dozens of times, I had never pedaled to the northwest end of the island, the residential section.

I have now fixed that.

First, here are the standard well-known island landmarks.

St. Anthony Falls before being tamed by the Corps of Engineers


St. Anthony Falls today
Plaque on the Stone Arch Bridge


Nicollet Island Inn. Built in 1893 (before the fire) as a sash & door company. Survived the fire and is now a nice place to stay and eat in Mpls.


Nicollet Island Pavilion.  Have your next wedding there.



Merriam St. Bridge.  This is a span from the 2nd Hennepin Ave bridge, floated down river when the 3rd Hennepin bridge replaced it in 1891


DeLaSalle High School

And some hidden gems

Grove Street Flats - French Empire style row housing - survived the 1893 fire

Frank Griswold house - Queen Anne style

Love the craftsmanship on the chimney work









Copyright © 2016 Dave Hoplin


Sunday, May 22, 2016

Ruby Robieson Bennett - Lowry Tales #3

Hanging the Mail



This will be an attempt to tell about the nighttime mail-hanging job, which several members of my family took part in. First I will explain exactly what is meant by “hanging the mail,” in case my readers do not know this.

At the time when our family lived in the Lowry Soo Line depot where my Dad was the Station Agent, there were two daytime trains.  No. 105 going eastward toward Minneapolis from Enderlin, ND, and the other one, No. 106 went from Minneapolis to Enderlin.  Going through our town during the noon hour, they were regularly scheduled to meet at Lowry. Night trains were scheduled differently. 

During the wee small hours of the night, the train going east was No. 109 and going west was No. 108.  These trains did not stop at Lowry, thus mail had to be hung on a crane and caught by an apparatus built for this purpose. The crane stood outdoors, a few yards away from the station, away from any nearby buildings of any sort. There, you could reach up to fasten the mailbags securely at the top and bottom. When the train sped through the station, the baggage man in readiness put out a long hook to catch the mail pouch and quickly bring it into the baggage car as the train sped on its way.

This only took a moment to complete, but much preparation went into this very important task. Different people helped at different times. Brother Jim had the job for a long time, until he left home for a job elsewhere.  Then Mom signed on for the job and the twins helped her – alternating each night, since they still had school to attend weekdays.


Pope County Historical Society
Winter days brought extreme hardships. To hang out that pouch during a winter storm, high winds, even a heavy downpour of rain was unpleasant.  Sometimes, for reasons that came up unexpectedly, the mailbag had been hung for one train – then it was reported delayed. The other train would arrive earlier, so the mailbags had to be changed accordingly! Maybe the time element was short here and the excitement grew!

Then, there was this event we all dreaded hearing about, but it did happen and we never knew who was to blame. The baggage man didn’t catch the mailbag – it went under the train wheels and was ground to tiny bits. When daylight came, Dad, my family, and crabby “I didn’t get my mail” people, crowded the sad scene but couldn’t discern any of the contents of the shredded mess. Fortunately, I don’t recall this happening very often.

My sister, Roberta, recently told me how Mom had to put on the earphones at Dad’s desk and hear the train dispatcher’s reports of the trains’ departure some stations down the line. This way, the dispatcher knew all the time where his trains were, and could give orders to proceed when necessary onto the side track, or stay on the main track and speed through town.

Roberta told me that Mom listened and when she heard the dispatcher ask for Lowry’s report, Mom would press the button and say (as we’d so often heard Dad report in the daytime) “OS Lowry” and giving the time the train departed. O, yes – Mom had depot blood in her veins, just like all of us at that place.

I must remember to mention also, that many nights when winter presented a very cold and stormy blizzard, Dad would be on deck helping the regular crew doing this job.

The wages were terrific! “Missing the mail” as they called it when they failed to hang it properly, at the right time, or for whatever reason, meant they were docked $1.00 each time! The paycheck was small to begin with, so if many misses were made, they were unhappy with the minuses.

Between usage, I can remember eyeing the mail crane near the tracks, not sure whether I liked it or not. Was it a friend or wasn’t it? It stood there so silently, almost in non-existence, but oh – the excitement it could help stir up in the wee, small hours some nights! Even we, who didn’t take part in the event, felt the ‘glory’ or the ‘gore,’ whichever was dished out on that eventful night.

Ruby Robieson Bennett
September 12, 2000

Friday, May 20, 2016

Architecture Wonk - Part 2

Another "themed" bike ride, this time to find Frank Lloyd Wright designed homes in Minneapolis - St. Paul.











Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Ruby Robieson Bennett - Lowry Tales #2

Railroads

Thomas Lowry
The Minneapolis-St. Paul and Soo Sault Marie railroad was completed in the village of Lowry in 1887.  This village was named after Thomas Lowry, then president of the Soo Line.  Lowry largely owed its existence to the railroad in the early days.

Hugh Bryce and Thomas Hume, who owned farms on which the town site was built, were early settlers in this part of the country.  Bryce and his brother did “freighting” for the government before railroads, using oxen to haul freight to Ft. Gary (now Winnipeg), Canada and to military posts in the northwest.




At first Lowry was the division point of the Soo Line and had the roundhouse and railroad shop.  These were later moved to Glenwood following the 1897 tornado, which badly damaged Lowry.

At one time many trains rolled through Lowry, a scene much changed these days.  Trains No. 105 and No. 106 were daily passenger trains, except on Sunday and at one time met at noon in Lowry, taking on and dispatching passengers, mail, freight, and express.  Flyers No. 3 and No. 4 came through nonstop at night except for emergencies, and flyers No. 7 and No. 8 came through nonstop during the day.  Flyers No. 3 and No. 4 were called the “Mountaineer.”  People wanting tours to see America took these trains, switching to another train at Minneapolis, or other points where they’d join yet another part of the tour and travel in a different direction.  Now we take busses or fly abroad to accomplish tours.

Daytime mail pouches were put directly into the baggage car when a “mail carrier” brought them from the Post Office.  Mail from the trains arriving in Lowry was taken to the Post Office for immediate sorting and delivery.  The non-stop night flyers would “catch” the outgoing first-class mail from a pouch that was secured to the mail crane near the tracks. The baggage man on the train would extend a metal arm out to snatch the pouch from the crane.  Again an appointed “mail carrier” was on duty to hang the mail and take a thrown-off pouch to the Post Office. 

Time and again the baggage car clerk failed to catch the pouch, or the wind caught it, tossing it beneath the fast moving train wheel, sending shredded mail far down the tracks.  When morning came, the night carrier found himself busy picking all the leftover pieces that could be located and turning them in at the Post Office.  The motto was: “The mail must go through.” 

Freight trains came through daily as well, except Sundays.  These were No. 89 and No.  90.  All even numbered trains traveled to the east, odd numbered ones were westbound.  Their daily stops in Lowry exchanged freight and express. 

A drayman with a horse drawn dray wagon picked up and delivered the shipments to whatever name and address was indicated.  He’d also bring boxed shipments to the trains to be sent away.  Later the drayman used a truck for his pick-ups and deliveries.  Gradually big truckers took over the complete job, so freight trains lost the business.  At this present writing there are still freight trains rumbling through Lowry, mostly picking up grain at the Lowry elevator to be carried elsewhere.

When in existence, the Lowry Roller Mills milled and shipped out much flour.  “Lowry Leader” and other brands were sent out and they were much in demand even out of state.  Lowry Co-op Creamery shipped out sweet cream plus many large tubs of excellent butter made here.  More than one butter maker who resided in Lowry was #1 in state competition.

The station agent in Lowry lived upstairs over the depot, working an 8-5 shift 5 days a week.  There were many times he was summoned from his own daily tasks, or a night’s sleep to be “called out for orders.”  This meant a change in train schedule, a meet at Lowry of trains, or that a certain train should take the siding track so a flyer could keep its schedule and charge through.  Often times he’d need open the freight room and deliver, to a busy farmer, something he’d ordered by freight but was unable to pick up during business hours.

Telegraphy played a great part in the Agent’s life also.  Messages sent somewhere during daytime would not reach Lowry until the wee, small hours.  Reaching a recipient by phone for a message (often death messages) ran into difficulty because not everyone owned a phone.  Sometimes a neighbor would need walk far to reach a loved one, who would get to a phone, get the message, and then likely send an answer back.  Meantime, the agent sat long hours in the night until all was accomplished.  On cold winter nights when the fires were down, this meant a most chilly wait. There is no telegraphy now.  It is all taken care of by telephone and computers.

Back in the 20s and on for a number of years, Lowry depot hired a night clerk.  He worked the “night trick”, working until night trains were gone, the office and waiting room swept out, tidied up, fires in two stoves tended during the winter season, and memos left for the day agent.

The present day picture is a mighty different scene.  Even the depot has been moved away; all the railroad people work elsewhere now.  The old mail crane is long gone, only a chugging freight train can be heard “switching” or “spotting” cars as their lonely whistles pierce the air.   Railroading in Lowry has been taken over by busses and trucks, both for people and freighting.  The era of the “Old Iron Horse” has passed on.

People would ask us, we who lived upstairs in the depot, “Didn’t the night trains keep you awake at night?”  We’d answer “no.” Maybe they did at first, but we became so used to the noise, we never even heard a whistle.  We did hear, though, and will long remember the “whine” the telegraph wires made at night, high above our windows outdoors.  This happened when the weather became intensely cold.  Hearing it, we knew we were in for a very cold, much below zero night.

Ruby Robieson Bennett

Credits and references: 
Soo Line agent, Glenwood MN
Builders of Pope County, Daisy Ellen Hughs
100 Years of Greatness in Pope County, MN

Lowry Centennial Memory Book 1886-1986.

Friday, May 13, 2016

Ruby Robieson Bennett - Lowry Tales #1

Editor note:  One of the pleasures of doing this blog is connecting with other Lowry people and occasionally gaining the privilege of publishing their stories and recollections.  This post launches a series of memories, treasures from Ruby Robieson Bennett, courtesy of her daughter Sandy. Ruby passed away in 2006.  


Montana to Minnesota


Ruby Mae @ 8 months.  Dooley,MT
Mom and Dad had set up housekeeping in the Soo Line depot in Dooley, Montana in 1913, with brother Jim who had been born in 1909 at Anslem, North Dakota, their most recent home.

Our family increased as follows in Montana: Ruby in 1914, Kenneth in 1916, Clarence in 1918, and Francis in 1921. We grew up like weeds on the Montana prairie, content with our lot.

Our life was moving along at the usual pace, the year was 1923. Summer was warm, the biggest excitement being back to school plans for most of us. Ken and I would attend second and fourth grades, respectively. Jim would just begin high school. Clarence and Francis were still pre-school age and perhaps helped Mom keeping house.
Then the news came that would change our lives forever! Dad’s ‘bid’ on the Lowry, MN station had materialized and we’d soon be moving there. His duties as station agent on the Soo Line would begin on September 23, 1923. Such excitement filled the air and so much to be done!

To explain the ‘bid’: Stations would come up on a list when vacancies occurred and new agents were needed. The station agents could then ‘bid’ on a place if he chose to make a move. The agents who had most number of ‘years rights’ caught the bid and if qualified and sincerely interested could put in for the transfer. Thus, Dad was eligible since he was qualified and had put in the greatest number of years.  He won the bid and decided to make the transfer.

Brother Jim, at age fourteen, had been sent by Dad and Mom to scout Lowry before Dad made the bid on the station. He stayed a couple of weeks and biked all around the countryside, visited with the people and in general came back with a pretty good evaluation as to what the area was all about.
He liked it very much, telling about the nearby lakes, beautiful trees all over, nice people, church, elementary and two-grade high school, and even a larger population than ever so small Dooley. Industries in Lowry included a busy elevator, flour mill and flourishing creamery.

So it was decided brother Jim would go ahead of the family in a railroad car, loaded with our worldly possessions: two Jersey cows, a player piano, all our household furniture, dishes, linens, and clothing – plus his dog “Ted.” He’d arrive there several days ahead of us, and would wait taking care of the cows, visiting the local points of interest and getting acquainted.

On the 21st of September, 1923, the noon train departed Dooley as usual with one great difference – the remainder of the Robieson family was aboard – traveling east to its new home in Minnesota.  The train made stops at every station along the way. They either picked up or put off mail; exchanged empty or full cream cans; or made an exchange of passengers; plus lots of shrill whistling and black smoke blowing.

Mom was heavy in the last trimester of another pregnancy and the bumpy ride must have been most uncomfortable for her, but she never complained.  I remember only Kenny fussing about someone eating an orange and how he wanted one as well.   Mom hadn’t packed any for the trip.  Mom had packed sandwiches and cookies.

I think we drank up most of the ice water on the train. Clarence and Ruby made frequent trips to the water faucet.  Dad put a stop to that when he saw it was getting to be a game.   We kids were restless with nothing much to do. 

There was no sleeper car on these trains; we couldn’t have afforded that luxury anyway. We were traveling coach and there were plenty of seats available so we could stretch out to sleep on a seat when night came, or when a nap seemed the thing to do.  Mom finally bedded us down each on a seat for the night.   I can’t remember that or breakfast the next morning. 

The train stopped too often for those anxious to glimpse Minnesota with its trees!  We’d heard there were many lakes, too, in our new home area.  Our small Montana town, Dooley, had boasted only three scraggly trees.  The long ride had many anxious hours.  The prairie kept rolling past, then a second night was upon us.

I remember trying to jot down the names of the stations as we passed through on a sheet of paper. If I wrote them down, as soon as we came into the station it was OK. When I forgot, Dad would spell them out for me. Thinking back the town of “Donnybrook” was the only one that stayed in my memory; for the life of me I can’t say why. But there were so many towns as we traveled nearly transverse across the state of North Dakota.

Finally, we heard the train whistle for a station, and then begin its slow down for the stop.  Some of us were sleeping, others dozing in their sitting-up positions. The train finally chugged to a stop. We had arrived in Minnesota!

Mom and Dad led the group as we climbed sleepily down the steps onto the station platform. My three brothers and I followed along, filled with wonder, yawning and looking around excitedly. It was 2 or 3 o’clock in the morning but finally the long, long train ride was over; we’d reached our destination. This was Minnesota, and in the semi-darkness at the small station we couldn’t see much difference from what we’d left back home in Dooley. We were here at last and we were so happy and noisy!  No doubt Mom and Dad were less enthusiastic at that moment.

Lowry station, at that time, employed a “night man” whose name was Howard Lysen. A most polite fellow who, after introductions, suggested he walk us uptown to the hotel where we could find rooms to stay. I clearly remember the walk as they had a real sidewalk, something we didn’t have in Dooley.   What I recall very clearly is this was a cemented black path we walked on to the hotel. Was this so different?  Was it so perfectly arranged?  What made it pierce my memory to the extent it did that I still can see it in my mind?  Just a childish thought, most likely, but a lasting one, a thought provoking one.  Why?  Did I think of it as an end to Montana days I’d loved so much, and childishly disliked even thinking about needing to give it up?  Yes, I am certain that is the truth of it. The next morning we all walked back to the depot. Dad and the section man helped move our furniture and belongings from the railroad car, which had arrived before us, to our living rooms above the depot.

The school kids in the family had to report and enroll in school. This I remember quite well. Since we were two weeks late and didn’t know where to go, we were very tardy that morning and how everyone stared at us!

Lowry’s big brick school building with its tall bell tower had two classrooms on each floor.  Each classroom held multiple grades for the students.  We’d left Kenny downstairs with a teacher who led him away to his classroom. Jim and I proceeded up the long staircase to the rooms for the higher grades. How the pupils stared at us! We may as well have come from Mars!  Jim stayed up there but my 4th grade room was downstairs so I ended up closer to Kenny.

Our family grew quickly as after just two days of school, we came home for noon lunch to find we had a new baby sister, whose name was to be Doris Elizabeth. Boy! My prayers were answered! I had a sister at long last!  For a long while Dad wanted to name her “Tanasota” for a combination of Montana and Minnesota, but Mom had better ideas on that.  Dad had been very caring and attentive to our Mother during the long trip, as well as preparation for her maternity date.  She had a doctor attend her at the house for the delivery and a neighbor woman came to help.

How those kids at school razzed us. First we arrive very late to begin school and now we have a new baby sister! It was too much to comprehend all at once. In time all the excitement wore down and we became just “some of the kids” at our school.

This was a busy time for Mom, already five children to cook, clean and care for, and now a new baby girl! Busy time for Dad, too – a new job, a new community, and a barn to be built for the cows, winter would soon be at hand.

A long, beautiful autumn ensued and we kids played outdoors a long time before cold weather came. There had been recent rainfalls.  A nearby ditch still contained water.  I found copper colored soil and when mixed it with water pretending it was “tea” and served my brothers who gazed at me with puzzled glances!    Fond memories include our “play-house” days and our “pretend coffee” – which just happened when the clay colored water looked coffee-like to us. We had no water in Montana for playtime.

I remember we made mud pies and played out under our huge cottonwood tree. There were trees in this town!  A huge one in our yard we eventually learned to climb.  This was new to us!  I don’t ever remember climbing one of the three trees that Dooley had.

The play area we chose was a small hillside—which I remember well.  It was the same place my brothers and I chose to play every day that autumn.  That was the year of it—never again—our worlds took on more serious and different paths, among them a baby sister to love and tend at long last.

Near the depot, Gust Nelson had a huge, fine lumberyard.  He’d tease my Dad about my brothers having such blond hair and called them Dad’s “Swedes.”  We were not Swedish but there were many Swedes with blond hair in this area.   Dad laughed and said “OK, be that as it may—they’ll fit in better then.”  Later they all had darker hair.

Time went on and all the sharp corners softened.  Soon, we were all settled in nicely in our new home and time went on just as before.  Dad put up a small two-room barn for the cows and some chickens. Everyone eventually accepted us Montanans.   But I’ll never forget how it was that first autumn.
Later, Dad built a garage for our car - a long, open Oakland. On rainy days he’d dress up in his slicker and boots, and snap on a set of icing glass windows to keep out the rain. Oh, how funny they smelled, but we kids became excited when they went on, and chattered like magpies. It was hard to see out with them on for us – Dad’s vision not impaired – but I felt he didn’t like them and was happier when they weren’t needed.

Our move proved a happy and successful one. Roy and the twins, Laberta and Roberta were added to our family. We all stayed and grew up here. Mom and Dad are gone now, as are brothers Jim and Ken. Right now I am the only family member still living in Lowry; others are married and moved away.

The date of our Minnesota arrival was September 23, 1923.  Soon we will mark the 79th anniversary. No wonder I feel old! I am!  But, oh the blessings I’ve been given in all those years. I have visited Montana twice but would never trade this prairie home for that one!

Ruby Robieson Bennett

Editor note: Doris & Roberta are the surviving Robieson siblings.  Deceased are James (1973), Ruby (2006), Kenneth (1971), Clarence (2014), Frances (2007),  Roy (2014), LaBerta (2007). Father Jim died in 1970 & mother Ellen in 1976.

Sunday, May 8, 2016

Architecture Wonk - Part 1


See the Twin Cities by bicycle

















One of the pleasures of living in the Twin Cities is the fantastic network of bicycle trails. I have covered a good percentage of those shown on the map above. Occasionally - not often - I tire of trail riding and look for alternatives. "Theme Rides" answer.  I've done church to church; cemetery to cemetery; college to college; Control Data building to Control Data building; sports venues; the bridges of Hennepin County; Minneapolis Lakes , etc. etc.  Great fun.

The latest idea was to sample some of the great - and not so great - architecture in the Twin Cities. What follows is a report on the first leg of the journey in St. Paul.

Architecture wonk - St. Paul leg

#1 Minnesota State Capitol building

A bit of a cheat, we rode the Green Line from US Bank Stadium station to Capitol station and our starting point, the Minnesota State Capitol Building



Under wraps
The beautiful Minnesota State Capitol building was designed by the renowned architect, Cass Gilbert, who also designed the Woolworth Building in NYC & the United States Supreme Court building. The Minnesota Capitol was completed in 1905 and in recent years has sprung numerous leaks and is now undergoing extensive renovation.









#2  Centennial State Office Building (the ugly duckling)

Uffda
What is there to say.  Built in 1958, this is one of many government office buildings that are less than memorable.













#3 Cathedral of St. Paul

The majestic Cathedral of St. Paul, with its distinctive copper dome, is of the classical revival style. The cathedral sits above downtown St. Paul on Summit Ave.  It was designed by French 'Beaux-Arts' architect  Emmanuel Louis Masqueray and was constructed between 1904 & 1937.  Its exterior is Rockville granite from St. Cloud and the interior walls are American Travertine from Mankato. It is a stunning structure inside and out and worth a visit if you are in St. Paul for a hockey game.





#4 James J Hill House (St. Paul)

James J. Hill was the noted (and notorious) tycoon of the late 1800's behind the Great Northern Railroad and known in his time as the "Empire Builder".  His mansion was built in 1891 on Summit Ave, a stone's throw from the St. Paul Cathedral.  It's style is "Romanesque". The mansion is on the National Registry of Historic Places.  The mansion is open for tours and I highly recommend it.  The pipe organ alone is worth the admission price. The curators are searching the country for the original furniture and have had some success.


An interesting side note: the house next door was built for his son and a stairway to the St. Paul below was constructed between the two homes. If you're in shape, you can climb those stairs today.


 






#5 Colonial Revival House  (St. Paul)

A Colonial Revival home has a "symmetrical" style with pillared entrances.  This style was popular from the 1890's and into the early 20th century and is quite common in the Twin Cities.











#6 Italianate

Italianate architecture with arched, hooded windows date from the 1860's to 1880's with several examples in the older parts of St. Paul & Minneapolis.  This example is on Summit Avenue, which features mansion after mansion, and was named one of the nation's "10 great streets" by the American Planning Association.








#7 Prairie School

The Prairie School, with Frank Lloyd Wright as its most famous member, was a mostly Midwest architecture trend of the late 19th & early 20th centuries.  Prairie School buildings are characterized by their integration with the landscape, fine craftsmanship and easily recognizable style.








#8 Arts & Crafts

Arts & Crafts design stems from the 1890's with examples to the current day. Low pitched roofs,  an open front porch & often with stained or leaded glass windows are typical design aspects of Arts & Craft homes.













#9 Victorian Gothic


Victorian Gothic or Gothic Revival architecture is most often seen on the nation's colleges and universities.  This example is Hamline University's Old Main.  The style features massive structure, narrow arched windows and a tower(s). The National Cathedral (Washington D.C.) and the Morman Temple (Salt Lake City) are the most famous US examples.












To be continued ...

Monday, May 2, 2016

Fagerås to Brandon 1886

Editor note:  The following is a record of the Carl Nelson family's immigration story in the words of their son Olaf.  The handwriting may be somewhat hard to decipher, but I encourage you to make the effort.  Carl & Sofia Nelson were my great-grandparents.





der Op i Solberg
Olaf was only 6 years old when the family emigrated, but he had strong memories of the Swedish home.  It was quite a large log house with a large fireplace.  He could look at the sky through the chimney. The fireplace had a large oven where they baked bread.  Close to the fireplace was a huge barrel that served as a bathtub. There was a highway close to the house on which loads of ice were moved.  A creek ran between the Nelson farm 'der Op I Solberg" and the neighbors, "der Ner I Solberg".

The family's immigration journey started on June 24, 1886.  They carried their own food for the entire journey. A trunk held dried foods. Just before leaving, Olaf's brother John recalled eating his first whole egg.  His grandmother gave this to him as a special treat.  The family spinning wheel came along.  It was constructed with wooden pegs and screws and disassembled for the journey and placed a the bottom of the trunk.  It still functions and remains in the family.  The family also carried a copper coffee pot for use aboard ship.  It was molded from a single piece of copper, except for the lid.

A small chest with a painted floral design was used to carry documents, pictures and other treasures. The date on the trunk is 1786 and still has the original key.

The family left Gothenburg for Hull, England and traveled from Hull to Liverpool, where they boarded the Cunard Liner Bothnia for Boston.  Brothers John & Gust were adventurers aboard ship, climbing the riggings. The sailors would yell at the boys who heard "bum bowlo" but what was really said was "down below". They would warn each other with "here come the bumbowlo" to avoid being caught in mischief.

From Boston, the family went by rail to Chicago, St. Paul and on to Brandon, MN, arriving on July 12, 1886. They were greeted by O.F. Olson, a local merchant, who they had known in Sweden.  They lived with Sophia's sister Elizabeth for a time. Carl went to work on the railroad for $1/day and 2 years later they built their own home in Brandon.

Stowe's Lake
In 1896, they purchased the "Stowe's Farm" on the northwest corner of Stowe's Lake, living in an old log house (18x20 with a 14x 20 addition for a kitchen). There was also a log barn. They built a new house in 1903 and a new barn in 1912.



Nelson's - 1912




Appendix:  Immigrant Ship




Cunard Bothnia



Bothnia 1874 - 1899

Tonnage - 4,535 gross; 8044 displacement Dimensions - 128.71 m x 12.86m (422.3ft x 42.2ft) Number of funnels - 1

Number of masts - 3

Construction - Iron

Propulsion - Single screw
Engines - 2 cylinder compound
Service speed - 13 knots
Builder - J & G Thomson, Glasgow
Passenger accommodation - 1st 300, 3rd 1,100 Cargo - 3,000 tons

The Bothnia was built in 1874 by J. & G. Thompson in Glasgow. She had a tonnage of 4,535 tons gross, 4,531 under deck and 2,923 net. She was an iron construction. There was one single screw, she was rigged as a bark as can be seen from the picture. Propulsion: compound engine with 2 cylinders of 60 & 104 inches diameter respectively, stroke 54 inches and operating at 65 p.s.i.. The engine delivered 600 Nominal Horsepower which gave the ship a speed of 121⁄2 knots. The engine was built by the same company as the hull. The Bothnia made her maiden voyage from Liverpool to New York in 1874 and in 1885 she was transferred to the Liverpool - Boston service. Code letters: MVKQ. Official Number: 68094. Port of registry: Glasgow

The Bothnia was launched 4 March 1874, seven months before her sister-ship, the Scythia. She was barque-rigged, with four decks (passenger accommodation over two decks). Her maiden voyage took place on 8 August between Liverpool, Queenstown and New York. From 1875-84 and 1888-93 she served on the Liverpool - Queenstown - New York route; 1884-88 and 1893-96 on the Liverpool - Queenstown - Boston route.
Her last passenger voyage for Cunard was on 8 October 1896. She was sold in 1898 for £11,250 and scrapped at Marseilles in 1899.


Copyright © 2016 Dave Hoplin