Tag Archives: small town

The Curious Case of the Returned Trunk – December 1923

Posted on by

“Thieves Keep Auto But Return Trunk, Bag and Clothing”

Please note: This is a true story. The names of the people have been changed. The details have not.

On an early December night in 1923 a man from one of the small towns reported to Waterloo, Iowa, police that his car had been stolen.  He had parked his vehicle in front of the Scobby residence at 217 Second Street West (now the site of the Dan Gable Wrestling Museum). No details are known about why this man was visiting that location. Newspaper reports show that car theft was occuring fairly regularly in Waterloo that year. At the time, he was a 29 year old, married farmer. It appears this was the home of a respectable family who may have also had some boarding rooms. The (Waterloo) Evening Courier and Reporter reported that this man, Martin,  had his new Ford Coupe with license number 12-5778  stolen. He further reported the stealing of a  trunk and suitcase which were in the car.  About one week later, a large package and the suitcase were mysteriously delivered by express to Martin’s home in the Dysart area. His address was plainly and correctly written. The place of mailing  was St. Paul, Minnesota. According to the paper, the name and address of the sender were on the package but were believed to be fictitious. Practically all of the stolen clothing, which consisted mainly of new and valuable women’s apparel was in the returned packages. No trace of the automobile was found. Police theorized that the thieves drove the auto to St. Paul and “finding the contents were of character dangerous to attempt to dispose of, determined to send them to the owners in a way which would cause the least liability of discovery.”

How curious! Why would thieves who had stolen a valuable automobile trouble themselves over some far less valuable clothing? Surely being traced back to a stolen vehicle would have been more significant than being found with a bunch of clothes. Why risk going to a station and having these items shipped? Minnesota is known as the Land of Lakes, surely they could have found a river or lake along the to throw the trunk and suitcase in. Were there no lonesome places where they could have buried the loot? Why would the thieves spend their money returning these insignificant items to someone from whom they were inclined to steal?

Perhaps knowing more about the victim can shed light on these questions. Martin came from a prominent family in the Mooreville area, a settlement located between Waterloo and Dysart, Iowa. His grandfather was one of the first white settlers in Geneseo Township . County records of this wealthy and influential family in date back before the 1860s.  The local papers of the time chronicle his parent’s business ventures including purchasing land close to home but also in the Dakotas and California. He had married Alfreda, the daughter of another prominent family, and taken up farming in 1914.   Between 1914 and 1922 newspaper reports show that he was doing what other new husbands and fathers do. He was renting land from his father, selling timothy grass, purchasing hogs, and shipping hogs to the Chicago markets. The couple do appear to have done quite a bit of traveling in those years. From the social columns it is unclear if these were unsuccessful moves out of area or just long visits in the Dakotas  and California.

In 1911, Martin’s father, Carlton, decided to sell his farm and move to California for the winter along with his wife, Lacy. Martin was just 17 or 18 at the time Carlton was quoted in the paper as saying that his children “would have to find a way to look after themselves”.  In December of that same year  Martin’s sister, Elsie,  got married and moved with her husband to a new community. In language that would never be used today, the Traer Star Clipper reported “The young folks were intending to be married in the spring, but matters were somewhat hurried by the bride’s parents who intend to spend the winter in California.” By this time, Carlton had already sold the farm. The paper continued “So this daughter took the first chance that came along and found a splendid young fellow to take care of her.”

In 1920, the father died and left his estate to his wife who by then was back in Dysart. She died four years later in 1924. Her will which had been drawn up in 1918 revealed an estate  worth $50,000.  The conditions of the will were a bit strange and may provide a clue about Martin. Money was set aside for her grandchildren and after that was divided into four equal parts. Three of her children received their full share immediately. However, the last 1/4 share was to be divided between Martin and his brother, John. Additionally, that share was to be held in trust by the Dysart State Bank and the brothers received the interest only. Upon their deaths, the money immediately passed to Martin and John’s children. Starting almost immediately both Martin and  John along with the  bank were sued by creditors for money from that inheritance to pay for  outstanding debts. These court cases drug on and on for so long that in 1938 the bank tried to remove themselves from management  of the funds. Another person was appointed by the courts and that person turned the responsibility down.

The early 1920’s appear to have been a challenging time for Martin. In 1919 it was noted in the paper that he had lost a cow and a good horse. How this happened was not clarified.  In May of 1922 he was caught up in a prohibition sweep by the Tama County Sheriff. Arrested with a gallon of  alcohol in his car which was parked outside the Dysart Opera House during a dance, hee pled guilty to possession and transportation of alcohol and was fined $137.00. In February of 1923, he was arrested by the Waterloo police on a traffic violation of cutting corners. Within the same week of having his car stolen in Waterloo, his brother, John, was caught up in a gambling sweep in Dysart and was also arrested.  The rest of his life story is not entirely clear. It is obvious that he and Alfreda divorced. In May of 1929 she married another Tama County resident and moved to Greeley, Colorado, where she lived out the rest of her days.  By 1950 Martin was living in Brooklyn, New York with a wife. By 1960 he was in Florida.  It appears he died in Florida in 1970 at the age of about 76 years old. How he made his living after leaving Iowa is unknown.

So Reader, what do you think?

Does it make sense to you that the random strangers who stole his car returned his items via Express or do you have another theory?

What other information do you need to know in order to make up your mind?

Please post your thoughts to the Facebook page where you are reading this or send me an email. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

 

Charlie’s Depression Wedding Part I

Posted on by

As Charlie started to return to consciousness, he recognized the buildings of his small Iowa town on that mid-August day in 1935. From his position, flat on his back in the middle of the main street, he noted the sky was clear, without evidence of rain. Despite this, his farmer’s bones knew that rain was on its way. If only his mind were as intuitive as his bones, it might have warned him of the impending danger he was in last Spring when all of this could have been avoided. The temperature was in the mid 80’s, but for the first time in a long time, he felt relatively cool down here in the dirt. It had been a hot summer with many days over 90 degrees and the entire state needed a break from the oppressiveness of it all. Charlie, more than most. His head slowly began to clear and he noticed  a crowd had gathered to gawk. I hate all of them, and this town, and everything that had happened to me here, he suddenly thought to himself. He would leave, he vowed to himself. Maybe go back to Wisconsin where he had lived for a time as a younger man.

Rolling over on his right side he saw his unwilling sparring partner, Bill, also lying in the dirt. Charlie couldn’t quite make out the details, but he knew that Dr. C.S. Stoakes was tending to his face. With great satisfaction he remembered clocking the older man right outside the post office. A clear case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Charlie already had a full head of steam built up after his unsuccessful confrontation with the postmaster.  How dare he refuse to give him his wife’s forwarding address. She was HIS wife. He had a right to know. Upon leaving the post office, he saw Bill, his former employer and friend. The rumors that he had helped her leave town rang in his head and his anger boiled over. Quickly and deliberately he marched over to him and without warning, swung three roundhouse rights at the 59-year-old until the man went down to the ground with Charlie on top of him, still pummeling him with his fists.

His momentary revery over those punches did not last long. He heard the crunch of footsteps in his left ear, rolled in that direction, and realized that C.D. Kontz, the town’s marshal, was coming for him. Behind him, he could see Olin Smith, manager of the telephone company, who had intervened in the fight to defend Bill. Olin’s right hand was bandaged with blood seeping through the rags. The stain formed the shape of a mouth, Charlie’s mouth. Normally, he would have recognized the seriousness of striking one person and biting another, but the last few months had depleted his sense of reason. Like a caged animal, he was looking for any outlet for the rage that consumed his insides.

Kontz and a few other men jerked Charlie to a standing position. They half walked; half dragged him to the jail. Mercifully, the Marshal shewed the other men away once Charlie was safely in his cell muttering something about leaving rabid dogs alone. Jail can be a time of reflection but not so in Charlie’s case; not yet anyway. When Mayor B.E.Barkdoll, arrived a couple of hours later to conduct the hearing, he found a man still so full of rage that instead of admitting his own guilt, he insisted on filing charges against Olin for knocking him down and stopping his path to justice. Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed. Barkdoll and Kontz who knew better than most the events of the summer, agreed to leave Charlie in jail overnight and reconvene in the morning when perhaps their old friend’s sense of reason might return to him.

Although he was more subdued in the morning, it did not necessarily bring a return to complete sanity. They let him out of jail anyway. Bill, either as an admission of his own guilt or for another reason, agreed not to press charges. Olin did the same and Charlie walked out into the bright morning sunshine. He headed down the street to his car which was still parked where he left it yesterday. Passing the post office he exchanged glances with postmaster Ralph Schroeder. It occurred to him that Ralph’s face revealed something he had not seen before. For the past two months, the citizens of this town had looked at him with unveiled amusement, pity, and ridicule. He had seen them whispering about him behind cupped hands and newspapers. Ralph’s face had not shown outright fear exactly, but the kind of wariness one wears when encountering an unknown dog and it occurred to him that maybe people were afraid of him now.

He got in the car, started the engine, and began to drive. Where should he go? Anywhere but home. In July, he and his new bride, Margaret, had rented the former Kennedy Studio building from Mrs. Claus Andresen which was far too public for him now. Driving to the eastern edge of town he paused and debated whether he should go south which would take him to his original hometown just a few miles away or north toward the Mooreville area where he had previously rented a farm.

So lost in thought he was surprised when he found himself at Hayward’s Grove sitting in his parked car with no recall of the four mile drive. He sat there now looking at the trees and hills which two months ago had been a patchwork of green and delicate Spring flowers but now was beginning to take on that tired look that the Midwest gets when Fall is near.

For the thousandth time he wondered how things had gone so wrong. In four years, he would be fifty and yet he made a fool of himself like a naïve schoolboy. Being a fool in a small town is like a slow walk to the gallows from which there is no return. Everyone watches and either jeers or cries, but you never get the sweet release of death. You just keep walking; secretly hoping all the while that someone else will do something worse and draw the attention away from you.

Once again, he let his mind drift off to the land of “what ifs”, fully aware how pointless this exercise is. Humans are creatures of habit and Charlie’s habit was to return to that horrible day in 1923 when his world really had shifted off its axis. He had married Minnie on Christmas Eve day in 1912. They were young and the world seemed so full of possibilities then. Charlie met Minnie though her older brother, Alfred, who had married Charlie’s sister, Addie in 1908. The two men had gone into farming together, renting the Stevenson farm five miles north of town in 1909. One big happy extended family.

About three years after their marriage, Charlie and Minnie left Iowa for Clark County, Wisconsin, where he had managed to purchase a farm. Their family grew quickly and within eleven years they had seven children: a new child being born about every year to year and a half.  But then, in a heartbeat, everything changed. Minnie died eleven days after giving birth. Overwhelmed with the responsibility of parenting seven children between the ages of 9 and a few days old, Charlie sold the farm, packed Minnie’s body in ice for burial in the Newhall cemetery and returned to Iowa and the support of his family and friends. From that day until now, his life consisted of rented farms and odd jobs all of which was a hard step back from the life they had been building in Wisconsin.

Then, as if all of that had not been enough, came the Great Depression. Charlie had managed to purchase ten acres of land from the former Charles Hill farm where he and his son, Leonard, raised vegetables. They sold the vegetables from their truck garden and took what odd jobs they could find. His children grew up and on to their own lives. In March, Charlie’s dad, Sam, was hospitalized at the University of Iowa Hospital in Iowa City. Two of his brother’s, Albert, and Clarence, went to Iowa City to see their father. When they arrived, they were informed that the old man had already passed away. In a moment of impulse, they decided to jump a train back home and while trying to board the train, Albert slipped under the wheels which severed one of his legs completely and mangled the other. All of that worked together to push Charlie into action to grab a better life for himself before it was too late.

 

Back in 1912 when he had unexpectedly taken the train to Vinton to marry Minnie, the local paper had said he was one of the town’s most prosperous young farmers, insinuating that he was a good catch. He was painfully aware that no one saw him like anymore. He was 46, alone and had limited prospects. Charlie had wanted what everyone else wanted, the love and companionship of another person. So, Charlie pursued what seemed to him the most logical solution to his problem. Answering a newspaper ad for a matrimonial service out of Missouri, he sent them $10 and received a list of twenty prospective brides. Responding to all  twenty, he heard back from three women in different parts of the country. Of these, he had chosen a widow, Mrs. Margaret Ferguson of Little Falls, New York, to be his wife. He proposed to her sight unseen. She had consented and the couple set June 26 as their wedding day.

Sitting here now, he remembers the feeling of elation he had that maybe, finally, his life was going to get better. He became so enthusiastic about his prospects that he placed an ad in the local paper inviting everyone in the area to come to the wedding. It was true that he had wanted the love and companionship of a good wife, but he also had an almost desperate need for some financial security . So, in another completely unexpected move, he decided to raise some cash by charging admission to his wedding. Knowing that people would not want to pay to attend an ordinary wedding, he became determined to turn it into more of an event with games, food and prizes. He printed up handbills and started handing them out all over town.

How could he have known that his novel idea would grab the attention of newspapers across the state? Soon, editors were telling the story of Charlie’s “Depression Wedding” from Des Moines to Davenport. Suddenly, Charlie had committed the second most deadly sin of small town living in the Midwest. The one right after making a fool of yourself or being made a fool; he drew attention to himself. A lot of attention.

On the day before the wedding, Charlie traveled to Vinton to secure a marriage license. He gave his age as 46 and Mrs. Ferguson’s as 40. He showed a picture of her to the clerk, handed him a handbill, and offered him free admission if he might come to the wedding. From Vinton, he traveled to Iowa City’s bus station where he met Margaret and her eleven-year-old son, Jarvis, and brought them back home. Her older son, James, age 17, hitchhiked the 1000 miles and arrived just in time for the scheduled wedding day. Had she mentioned she was bringing two sons? He could not remember now.

It was a good thing that Charlie had set a contingency plan because on the 26th, it did indeed rain. Finally, at 11 a.m. on the 27th under a bright sunny sky, Charlie and Margaret were married in Hayward’s Grove in front of about 200 people. They had marched through knee-high blue grass to the sounds of the “Bridal Chorus” played by Mrs. Harry Heisler on her accordion. Little Ms. Ramona Reimer acted as ringbearer while her parents Waldo and Viola looked on. All the important people in there lives were there. Charlie’s daughter, Wilma, served as a bridesmaid and Margaret’s son, James, stood up for him as best man. Still, the turnout was much lower than he had hoped for and the take disappointedly small as many did not pay the 25-50 cents he had asked.  With his expectations having been so high, he could not hide his disappointment well and this upset many in the town who had never heard of anything so outlandish as paying to attend a wedding. After they had said their “I dos”, Woodrow Pettit and Leo Gulick played their instruments while Katherine Shafer and Mabel Aschenbrenner sang “When the Bluebirds Sing in June” as well as several other favorite tunes. The free cigars and ice cream eventually arrived from town and overall, Charlie thought they had a nice day, although not profitable.

On Friday, a free dance was held in town in their honor after which, Charlie felt that he and Margaret could really start their life together. He rented a house in town where they could be more comfortable. Margaret seemed to be settling in. She spent a few days with Charlie’s daughter in Vinton where James had secured a job at the canning plant. He believed he was finally going to be happy but that was not the case. Shortly after the wedding, he and Margaret had begun to fight. Then, just four weeks after that golden day in Hayward’s Grove, a mysterious car drove up to their house before dawn on a Monday morning. Margaret, James and Jarvis slipped out a side door and into the car which was seen driving out of town at the break of dawn. The rumor mill immediately kicked into high gear with reports that Margaret had received money in the mail and/or been given money by someone locally and Charlie believed that person was Bill. There were rumors that they had moved to Vinton or Indiana or back to New York.

Rumors and insinuations were not what Charlie needed right now. She had made a fool of him. He needed to know where she had gone and why. He needed to know the truth. As he sat looking at the grove of trees which had held so much promise just two months ago, he began to devise a plan to get to the bottom of it. He felt confident that some people in this town knew where she had gone, including the postmaster and Bill, and he was going to find out no matter what.

The conclusion of Charlie’s Story will be published soon! Sign up for our email notifications and you can get it delivered right to your inbox!

The News From Dysart and North Central Iowa – Mid-June to Mid-July 1914

Posted on by

The News From Dysart
Last Week of Mid-June to Mid-July 1914

The thirty days between the middle of June and the middle of July in 1914 was very active in the Dysart area. The citizens were busy promoting their upcoming Fourth of July celebration and first ever Chautauqua both of which were held the first week of July. The The Great Booster Parade to promote themselves in the area was a success and a wonderful July 4, 1914 celebration  was nearly perfect except for the tragic death of Earl Emery. Join me today as we find out what else happened that mid-summer in 1914.

George Hix Death 

On Friday June 19, thirty year old local businessman, George P. Hix drove over to Traer, a town nine miles to the west to visit a friend. He arrived back in town about 12:30 in the morning. Although he had a successful career as an implement dealer, the young bachelor still lived with his parents George and Lena and saw no reason to head home. While driving by the electric light plant he noticed his friend, T.E. Sackett was working late so he stopped for a visit. He decided to drive a block over to the train depot where he knew his cousin, Nate Burhenn, was waiting to leave on the train. Ray Rhyner, another friend, was working at the depot that night where he was both a depot assistant and telegraph operator. Both men were musicians and so they took some time to play the mandolin and guitar while waiting for the train to come in and Ray's anticipated release from his work duties. Sackett may have heard the music so he  walked over, inviting the men to come back to the power plant after the train left where he would join them on the violin. Their jam session lasted about an hour an a half. At about 4 a.m. both Sackett and Rhyner expressed their fatigue and thought it time to head home but George was restless and not ready for bed so he suggested they take his car and go for a cruise. Those of us who grew up in small towns remember doing the same.

At about 5 a.m the men found themselves out by the Catholic Church and turned south onto what is now Highway 21. At that time it was a dirt road lined with a grove of trees. The newspaper suggested they were headed for a "southern loop" which had "good roads" (unsure if they meant road or the oval race track that was located south of town). Traveling at about 25-30 miles per hour they had gone about a half a mile when for reasons that were never made clear, George lost control of the car and it rolled over. At that time, car rollovers were quite common. The roads were rough and the cars traveled about on skinny tires which provided little stability. Newspaper articles from then almost always refer to it as "turning turtle". All three men were ejected from the car and after it had made a full rotation, Sackett was under the car; Rhyner and George Hix had been thrown away from the vehicle. Ray was able to help Sackett get out from under the car and both men then went to check on George who by their description was "standing erect on his knees facing the west but unconscious". The men tried to help him to stand but he soon collapsed. One or both of the "boys" as they were referred to in the newspapers articles ran to find a telephone and summoned Dr. Redmond who arrived within ten minutes. They transported George to Redmond's office where he died from a skull fracture, never regaining consciousness.

George's body was moved to the undertaker's at about 7 a.m. where it was held until an coroner's inquest could convene at 4 p.m. Sackett and Rhyner both testified that George appeared to have control of the car and they had no idea why the accident had occurred. John Lindeman, Ervin Krebs and Ross Taylor served as jurors and after listening to the testimony of the two witnesses determined that "George Hix met his death in an automobile accident the cause of which was unknown to the jury." George's body was released to his family and moved to their home where it remained from Saturday night until Monday afternoon. At 1:30 p.m. a prayer was offered at the home and the family followed George's body to the Evangelical Peace Church (now the Dysart Historical Center) of which the Hix's were founding members. George's service was offered in both German and English by Rev. Hild of the Peace Church and Rev. Lorenz from the German Evangelical Church. It was one of the largest funerals held in that church up until that time. The Dysart Reporter stated "Special music was rendered by a number of Dysart's best singers. The floral decorations were beautiful and beyond description."

By way of eulogy, the paper reported, "George was one of the biggest hearted fellows we ever knew. His circle of friendship was unbounded. In business matters he was the kind of an honest square fellow that one likes to deal with. In social activities he strived to be the best. He was a member of the Helping Hand Sunday School at the Evangelical church and was quite regular in attendance. He was always pleasant to meet, always having a smile and probably some witticism for an answer. We cannot recall more pleasant evenings than those spent at the Hix home with George and several other friends passing jokes and enjoying music. He will long be remembered by all his acquaintances and relatives." George was survived by his parents: George and Lena and his sisters Mary, Nettie, Louise, Amanda and Katie. It appears that Mr. Sackett and Mr. Rhyner were both temporary residents of the town of Dysart. Not much could be found on them past 1914.

Driving around with friends is likely a familiar theme for many of us who grew up in small towns such as these. Long after all the businesses were closed and not wanting to go home we would often drive around town. Sometimes, you might congregated uptown or some other parking lot to sit on hoods or tailgates with others unwilling to go home. You and your friends might stop in the park which was suppo0se to be closed or drive out to the cemetery and try to scare each other to death. Thankfully for most of us these are sweet and happy memories.

 

Farm Auctions 

 

The Krambeck Farm was sold by auction on June 20th. This was an eighty acres farm located adjacent to the town of Dysart. It fetched the highest price ever offered for Tama County farm land up  until that time at $277.50 per acre. The winning bidder was Ed. Thomas of Geneseo. Other bidders included: Theo. Matthisen, George Kersten, L.C. Knupp and Chris Nelson. Bidding started at $250 per acre. Mr. Krambeck had purchased the land six years before at a price of $100 per acre. The local paper in describing the land stated; "The price is the highest ever paid for Tama County land, yet the eighty has a ditch through it, has considerable low land and although well improved has a house thirty years old. But it is a delightful home, adjoining the incorporation of Dysart, and a very tempting place." Shortly thereafter, John H. Lichty, offered property which adjoined Mr. Krambeck's for auction. This land was sold in four different auctions totaling 440 acres within the yellow area in the photo. This land sold for between $200.75 to $222.50 per acre and was purchased by Theodore Heckt, Peter Wieben, Joe Thierer and Emil Benesh of Cedar Rapids. 

 

 

Chautauqua A Big Success

Dysart's first Chautauqua which ran from Saturday, July, 4, until Thursday, July 9, was both an entertainment and financial success. Approximately $900 worth of season tickets were sold and after all expenses were paid the Commercial Club netted $300.00. Several interesting lectures and musical performances were enjoyed throughout the week. 

 

Dysart Reporter Changes Hands 

After two years of publishing the Dysart Reporter, R.E. Lee Aldrich, sold the paper to E. E. Roland who came to Dysart from Ocheyedan, Iowa. The following week, Mr. Aldrich, received a serious electric shock and survived. Mr. Aldrich, his brother and the new owner of the paper were on their way to the office. The main street had been roped off to protect the surface which had just been oiled. Aldrich grabbed a rope in an attempt to allow a car to pass under it. This caused the rope to come loose from the light pole so he reached around the post to retie the rope. Unfortunately, due to some faulty wiring the pole had become charged and Aldrich was shocked. He fell to the ground unconscious but regained consciousness quickly and fully recovered. 

 

Chinese Dragon Appears On July 4th

D.E. Cone created some extra excitement during Fourth of July celebration when he sent away for a "Chinese Dragon" to be displayed. He stated before the event that "people who have read about dragons in myths and legends will be greatly surprised..." This was later described as a five foot creature and was likely an iguana or other lizard but was something new and unseen to the people at the celebration.

Traer Bootlegger Narrowly Misses Arrest on the Fourth 

According to the local papers a Traer bootlegger brought bottles of alcohol into Dysart in a suitcase or valise on the 4th for the purpose of selling them. The papers describe Dysart as a more "temperate sister city" than neighboring Traer. One of the bootlegger's fellow Traerites saw him and reported him to a Dysart police officer who was not fond of the alcohol trade. The citizen and officer searched for the bootlegger without success. A second police officer, more sympathetic to the drink, did find the the bootlegger and warned him that leaving town would be in his best interest. He escaped without charg

The colors of 1914 

Two paint colors regularly advertised as available during 1914 were Paris Green and Venetian Red Ground, both very familiar colors. Venetian red was a popular choice for barns and farm buildings. The paint got it's name because historically this pigment was produced from natural clays found near Venice, Italy. The clays contained an iron oxide compound that produced this red color. By the 1920s, these clays were being mined  throughout the US including in Iowa making the paint readily available and affordable. . The paint was non-toxic.

 

 

Paris Green as a color was used on everything from cabinet doors and shelving to furniture and was incorporate into much of the glass and ceramics of the time. Developed by two chemists in 1814, the compound was used as both an insecticide and paint pigment. Because of it's make-up the substance was highly toxic and required care in handling. That summer in Iowa, a farm wife living northeast of Clutier was found dead in her home. Her death was ruled a suicide as the result of taking a dose of Paris green. She was not alone. Over the  counter poisons were often the chosen method of suicide in the early 1900s.

Advertising

 

July 4, 1914 – Small Town Holds a Great Celebration

Posted on by

July 4, 1914, Small Town Holds a Great Celebration

Celebration

At 4 a.m. the sound of a light artillery brigade reverberated through this small and peaceful, but not entirely silent town. The canning factory on the northern edge of town and the adjoining cement factory produce a steady amount of noise, sometimes late into the night. Occasionally, one of the newly purchased automobiles is heard rumbling by long past the time when decent folks are asleep or it's rambunctious driver breaks the silence with the horn. But generally, 4. a.m. is a quiet, restful time reserved for dairymen and the train station manager. This Independence Day, however, the organizers of the day's event have determined that a cannon blast at 4:00 a.m. is the best way to begin a celebration of the nation's 138th birthday. There are eleven surviving civil war veterans living in town today, July 4, 1914, and for them being awoken by live artillery likely produces a different reaction than other residents, but no one considers that. These folks are three years away from the great war and all that it will teach the world about the long-term trauma of war.

Stepping Stones

Stepping Stones in Time

A glorious day full of promise and excitement awaits the people here. To say they are enthusiastic would be a complete understatement. Just one week ago 150 resident boosters spent an entire day traveling in 29 cars to many towns in the area promoting their event. Flyers have been handed out, welcoming invitations have been extended and large advertisements have been placed in local papers. Although they have hosted big celebrations in the past, this year is different. This year, July 4th is also the kick-off of their first week-long Chautauqua. A giant multi-colored tent is set up in the park in anticipation.

There are only 1000 people living here and yet they are expecting thousands of celebrants to arrive in the next few hours. The world they live in is experiencing tremendous change and they seem ready to embrace it. Their guests will arrive by horse and buggy, trains, and automobiles. Some will walk into town from their homes in the country. They will come with picnic baskets full of food and blankets to sit upon. There are two passenger trains scheduled to arrive from the east today at 9:45 a.m. and 1:21 p.m. and two from the west which will not arrive until 4:45 p.m. and 10:52 p.m. Many people arrived yesterday and found lodging where they could. There are no hotel rooms available and all through the community homes are full of out-of-town guests. The town has invited people to bring their hammocks and tents and feel free to camp overnight in the city park for the night or all week long if they wish to attend the Chautauqua. Tents are available for rent. They have promised there will be plenty of food and beverages available for sale. A special water pump station has been added to the park.

The train coming from the east arrives late and pushes events back a bit but not to the determent of the day. Among those arriving on this train is Earl Emery, a 17-year-old boy. Earl has grown into quite the young man and repaired his relationship with his father. Just three years ago he impulsively stole $75 and bought a train ticket to Alliance, Nebraska, where he was apprehended and returned home. Now he is a employed as a farmhand and is looking forward to spending some of his hard earned cash and watching his hometown team play baseball.

Parade

People flood into the main street before 9 a.m. where the M.B.A. Band is already playing. They have come, the local paper states, "to publicly express their appreciation of the liberties the Declaration of Independence has brought to America and Americans". Forty automobiles line up, ready to start the parade at 9:15. There are cash prizes at stake for the best decorated car. This along with the pride of being among the first in the area to own an automobile has spurred the participants to go all out.

The town was created to accommodate the westward expansion of the railroad. Built in the middle of a prairie; there were no rivers or creeks to be consider, no hills and even significant elevations to contend with. As a result, the whole town is a grid with every street coming to a ninety degree angle with the next. There are no curves or bends in the road except through the park and even this is slight. The distance from the main street to the park is only four blocks, so running the parade directly from the corner of Wilson and Main to the City Park would leave little room for the large crowds to get a good look. Therefore, a route has been planned that includes several streets within the city's boundaries. On their last pass through the main street the attendees are encouraged to follow along to the park for the scheduled baseball game between the Vinton Cinders and the Hiteman teams.

Baseball Team

The crowd does not know it now, but they are witnessing the beginning of a life-long baseball career. A standout player for the Vinton Cinders, twenty-year-old Edmund John "Bing" Miller will enjoy a long career playing major league ball. He will be part of teams that win two World Series titles between 1921-1936 and then coach for another 17 years. But today, he is an ordinary guy playing minor league ball with his brother and friends in the central part of of Iowa.

Motion Pictures

Dysart Reporter

The day is hot with no sign of rain. The beverage vendors will do well. The park is crowded and will stay that way. A merry-go-round has been set up with the promise to run all day. The smell of freshly roasted nuts wafts from the peanut stand, filling the senses. Carnival games called baby and cane racks and striking machines allow an opportunity for men and women to try their luck and hopefully win a memento to take home. There is even a fortune teller set up who will most likely provide you a favorable look at your future. Those who wish to stroll back to the main street business district will find that Jessen and Clemen is offering three moving picture shows featuring nine reels playing all day starting at 10 o'clock.

Clown

Source: Bretzel Liquide

At one o'clock a large crowd gathers on the main street to enjoy the free street performances by Vaudevillian entertainers. The crowd is treated to the fascinations of the Smilette Brothers and Mora, a comedy triple bar act which combines acrobatic troupe stunts along with a clown. Murdos and Novelty Dogs follows with a group of seven acrobatic fox terriers performing amazing feats. Last is the Zeno and Zoa Comedy Act, a European contortionist group performing a hand balancing and foot juggling act. They are a marvel who have traveled extensively through the Americas and Europe.

Returning to the park, crowds gather to witness the Montana Kid who it has been advertised will ride the famous bucking broncho, Steamboat. The crowd will be disappointed when the horse refuses to buck after the first few jumps. It will be revealed later that the real Steamboat has been dead for several years, but the Montana Kid will continue to make the circuit as a cowboy, at least for a while longer.

At 2:30 the big Chautauqua tent will be thrown open and a large crowd will first hear six young men who perform under the name "The American Collegian Orchestra" play several different instruments and sing. This will be followed by a lecture from a Methodist minister named Dr. Frank E. Day who will travel throughout the Midwest giving lectures under such titles as 'Does the Hour Hand Move' and 'The Worn-Out Preacher: What is he Good For Anyway'. Eventually he will become a well-known minister in Indiana and one hundred years from now, people will still be reading his writings.

Dancers

Dysart is not the only community hosting a celebration today. There are also events in Waterloo and Urbana. These have drawn so many people that the editor of the Vinton newspaper reported their town looked like it had been abandoned at midday. As the heat continues to climb, a second ballgame is played in the late afternoon where a $100 purse is won by the Vinton team. Finally, as the day begins to cool down at 6:45 p.m. the street show is repeated. and at 7:45 p.m. the orchestra provides a grand concert in the tent. The day wraps up with a much-anticipated dance at the Opera House.

Train Depot

Dysart Train Depot

When everything is over it will be reported that an estimated 5,000 people spent that Fourth of July day in Dysart arriving in between 250 and 300 automobiles, meaning the majority must have come by train. As it starts to grow dim, tired but happy people start leaving town at various times. About 10:00 p.m. many people leave the well-lit Opera House heading for the depot so they can catch the last train heading east which is scheduled for 10:52 p.m. For most, they are a bit less animated than they were this morning however some of the young women are almost giddy from the excitement of the day and the dancing. There is a sense of happy exhaustion among them. Tired event organizers are breathing a satisfied sigh of contended relief that the day turned out so well. Their planning has not gone unappreciated. Some are already mulling over improvements for 1915. The clear night sky helps create a feeling that the day is wonderfully complete.

As the headlight of the railroad locomotive appears to the west, the crowd of approximately 500 people start collecting their things in anticipation of boarding the train. As it draws nearer, the whistle breaks the silence of the town just as it was broken this morning by the artillery fire. It is then, at approximately 11:20 p.m. that an unimaginable tragedy strikes which will spread a pallor over this magnificent celebration and send ripples across the state for many days to come.

If you have enjoyed reading this post and would like to be notified when new articles are posted, including the conclusion to this one, please sign up at the bottom of this page!

The Great Booster Parade – A Small Town Promotes Themselves

Posted on by

The Great Booster Parade – A Small Town Promotes Themselves

Booster Parade

Six months ago, I started a personal challenge to write and publish something every week for a year. Since that time, I have learned a lot about a great many things. I chose as my primary subject the place where I was raised; a small town in the central part of Iowa, called Dysart. Through reading countless newspaper articles and books and a trip to the local museum, I have had a chance to imagine what Dysart must have looked, felt and smelled like in those early days before there was electricity and modern plumbing and streets. I've grown in my appreciation for the fact that nothing truly worth having comes along by accident. It takes dreams that are followed by careful planning and hard work. In the case of a community, it takes the dogged dedication of a group of people who will themselves to make it work. I've learned that my teenage belief that nothing interesting ever happened in a small town like mine was a lie. I've remembered a lot of people who I had known and forgotten about, both living and dead. I've reconnected with folks I once knew and have enjoyed hearing other people's memories which are different than my own. Memories have filled my days and the pages I have written.

Nothing I have read about or written so far has created more longing within me to have a time machine than what happened in Dysart in the weeks before and after July 4, 1914. I wish I could have been a part of it all. In that short period of time this tiny town of 1,000 people accomplished amazing things, became the object of ridicule for people across the state, and emerged with the strength to continue to work together to build up their town. Dysart has long hosted one of the largest and finest July Fourth celebrations in the area. Today, as the people of Dysart work hard to once again offer a great opportunity for Fourth of July fun and fellowship, allow me to tell you about a packed few days of community spirit 108 years ago.

In the spring of 1914, the businessmen of Dysart formed a Commercial Club. These types of organizations were being formed throughout the country to promote the growth and development of towns and cities. The group that formed in Dysart grew quickly and within a few weeks their membership was up over 70. Not bad for a town of less than 1000. The group went straight to work funding and overseeing improvements which would bring both businesses and new residents to the area. Although the community had hosted July 4th events in the past, this one would be bigger. The celebration would coincide with a newly acquired week- long Chautauqua. In early June, the club members decided to take their message about the upcoming events on the road.

In the Dysart Reporter of June 18, 1914, the details of this road trip were announced, and an open invitation was extended to anyone wishing to participate. The date of the road trip was only one week later, on June 25. One week with no social media to help spread the word; just the newspaper and word of mouth.

Everyone was invited to bring an automobile if they had one and pack a lunch for a planned stop in a "grove where it will be pleasant to eat." Those not possessing a automobile of their own were encouraged to see C.L. Wareham at his store or Charles Vaubel or Lee Aldrich at the Dysart Reporter. Drivers were promised that the outing would not cost them anything as the occupants of the car would pay the running expense. Drivers were also told there would be mechanics in the group but that each driver should bring his own accessories. On a weekly basis, the owners of newly purchased cars had been listed in local papers and one must believe that many of these men were anxious to join the parade and show off their purchases. The local band was engaged to join the procession.

On the morning of Thursday, June 25, 1914, at 7:30 a.m. a total of 29 cars lined up on Main Street with the goal of "by the time Traer is properly awakened we will be there to distribute our advertising matter and the M.B.A. band will play a few pieces that will make them feel good the rest of the day." By the time the cars were assembled into a parade formation there was a total of about 150 men and women. The first car out of town was carrying the officers of the Commercial Club followed by the car carrying the M.B.A. band and then the participating drivers whose order had been selected by lots.

I can picture them now as they head west out of Dysart. Everyone dressed in their Sunday best, crammed into their open aired cars. The men are wearing hats but have allowed themselves the luxury of rolling up their sleeves in the hot June sun. Some of these men have purchased riding outfits specifically for motoring as was popular at the time. The young women are laughing and chattering. They are likely calling out to the cars ahead and behind of them. Everyone is excited to see how the day will go. Perhaps the band is already playing, or they are singing popular songs from that day. It has only been recently that private ownership of cars has been made possible and an extended road trip is probably a novelty to most. The newspaper articles report that they found mostly good roads but in 1914, that means dirt or gravel roads and with the small wheels the cars have the ride is bumpy.

Map

Map from 1917 showing local roads

The group made a number of stops in the following order: Traer to Clutier, where Mr. Jensen broke a spring and apparently had to quit the parade. Then on to Elberon and Keystone. At noon they stopped in a grove near Keystone and at the invitation of the owner occupied the yard for a picnic ground. Finally, friends who had been settled into different vehicles had a chance to get out and visit and have some fun together. From there they went to Van Horne and then Vinton. While in Vinton a storm blew up but it was over quickly. They then went to Garrison, La Porte and then back to Dysart. At each stop along the way it was said that the townspeople gave them a hearty welcome. The band played, flyers were distributed and visiting with the locals was initiated. Dave Wilson and John Christiansen gave speeches at each stop along the way. They "extended a cordial invitation to our sister cities to spend the Fourth with us and also to attend the Chautauqua which opens on that date."

 

The Vinton Eagle described the visit this way:

"Vinton was serenaded in royal style last Friday by the Dysart Boosters - men and women - 150 strong. They arrived in the middle of the afternoon in twenty-nine autos. They were accompanied by the local band which discoursed sweet music for fully half an hour. The 'tourists' mingled with the businessmen of the city and made their mission known. This was also made known in an eloquent address by John Christiansen....The mission of the Boosters was to advertise the fact that there is to be a great Fourth of July celebration at Dysart to which everybody is invited...Mr. Christiansen said they expect 3,000 people from Vinton during the week (of Chautauqua) so it is up to the Vinton people to justify Mr. Christiansen's expectations. There is no question, but a large crowd will go to Dysart on the Fourth to witness the game of ball between the Vinton Cinders and the Hiteman team."

I love this story. I can see myself in it and as I have said wish I could go back in time and live the day with them. It reminds me that when I lived in a small town, I experienced a sense of community that has not happened to me living in a city. It reminds me of happy days from my teenage years riding in cars and buses to music competitions, sports tournaments and school trips or just around town; singing and laughing with sweet friends. It also makes me remember how wonderful it is to drive around the Dysart countryside on dirt and paved roads and to soak up the colors and sounds of summer; to see the wide-open sky; and inhale the open-air smells. I wonder if other former Dysartites have the same feeling that I have always had, that you can leave the town, but the town does not leave you.

News articles state that two photographers were among the traveler and in the weeks after the 25th, postcards were advertised as for sale at Wareham's store. If anyone has any of these postcards, they would be willing to share, please contact me. I'd love to share them with my readers.

Stay tuned for next week's post when I will share with you the tremendous turnout this trip produced and the dramatic event that happened in Dysart on July 4, 1914.

If you have enjoyed this post and would like to get notification when new stories are available, please sign up at the bottom of this page.