FOOTPRINTS ON THE TRAIL
Being a plain account of a plain people by one of them
[Walter E. Paul]
August 1932
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Note: Walter Paul was my Grandfather Andrew Paul's youngest brother.
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The beginning of our story is fragmentary and clouded in more or less obscurity, for it is only in the past seventy-five or eighty years that we are able with any accuracy to point out details along the trail that our family has traveled. Back of and beyond that it is as though we could only discern here and there a blazed tree, or a portage, or perhaps a hilltop visible from afar. If our family line down through the past could be traced through the names of those who have been noted in political, military, or literary careers, then our back trail could more easily be followed, and the results of our research would bring forth, especially in the earlier phases of this story, more interesting events, the relating of which could be substantiated by proven facts of history. Anyone who cares to take the time or trouble to peruse this chronicle of family affairs will soon find that the Paul family of which this story treats, was a very common, everyday family, laying no claims to fame or notoriety through the merits or demerits of ancestors,-real or imagined,- but merely living their lives in the best way they knew, humbly, reverently, and with an abiding faith in an ever present Providence.
The first date to mention is the year 1615, and here we are now in the year 1932. In 1615 one William Paul was born somewhere in England. His father’s name is said to have been Samuel, but of where they lived, who they were, and of William’s boyhood, we know nothing. On June 10-1635 we find William leaving Gravesend England for the English Colonies in America. Perhaps Gravesend may have been his hometown, but more likely it was only his point of embarkation, for in those days Gravesend was an important port for London, located as it is, only thirty miles down the Thames. It was the assembling place of early English navigators, including Sebastian Cabot, and Martin Frobisher. In Domesday Book of William the Conqueror, it is mentioned as a “hithe” landing place.
Arriving in America, William Paul became a “First Purchaser” from Metacomet, (otherwise known as King Philip,) sachem of the Wampanoags, and settled in what is now Bristol County Massachusetts. Other settlers preceded and followed him and in 1638 the new settlement came to be known as Cohannat. In 1639 it was incorporated under its present name of Taunton, Mass. The first permanent settlement in what is now the state of Vermont was made by a company from Taunton in 1736. William Paul married Mary Richmond who was born in 1637. She was a daughter of Capt. John Richmond who was also one of the “First Purchasers.”
James Paul, presumably a son of William, was born 1657 and became a large landowner like his father and grandfather. The next Paul of whom we hear is another William. The date of his birth is unknown and all we know of him is that he became a mariner. Another James Paul was born in 1737 later marrying Sarah White, a descendant of Governor John White, whose grand-daughter, Virginia Dare was the first English child to be born in America.
John White Paul, born 1755 was a soldier in the Revolutionary War. He married a girl whose first name was Anne, - her last name is unknown. He died at Westminster Vermont January 20-1804. This town of Westminster, at one period of colonial history, seems to have been the vortex of much trouble. In addition to the usual Indian perils common to those frontier days, the whites themselves indulged in much bloody scrapping over the boundary lines between New Hampshire and New York. The settlers in New York maintained that all the territory eastward to the Connecticut River was theirs, while the settlers in what is now New Hampshire stubbornly asserted that all territory westward to the present New York State line rightfully belonged to New Hampshire. In between the disputants lay the settlements founded by pioneers from around Taunton Mass, the former home of William Paul. These settlers claimed the disputed strip for themselves and to emphasize their claim their Committee of Safety organized the Green Mountain Boys, under the leadership of Ethan Allen, upon whose youthful head their opponents later set a price of one hundred pounds in good English money. The price appears to have been too low, for Ethan retained his head and continued to use it most effectively. On March 13-1775 a sheriff’s posse and a band of citizens clashed at Westminster in what is known as the Westminster massacre. Two months later however a convention met there and ironed out the difficulties in a more amicable manner.
Benjamin Paul, the son of John White Paul was born 1782 and married Abigail Carr. He moved his family by ox team over a blazed trail from Westminster Vermont to Chenango County, New York. Most of the early settlers in Chenango County were from Vermont, Connecticut and Eastern New York. In 1792 a French Colony had made a settlement in what is now the town of Greene, but they were unable to secure a title to their land and had to give it up in 1796. Norwich was made the County seat in 1807. Prior to that time the courts were held alternatively at Hamilton, (now in Madison County) and Oxford.
Benjamin Paul had three sons, -Thomas, Alfred, and Benjamin Jr., the youngest, also four daughters, Jane the youngest married a Clark. Benjamin Paul Jr. was born about 1812 and married a Maria Tilyou. They had nine children, - Ashael W, Mary Lucinda, Philander T, Roxa, Andrew, Hollis Brayton, Francis Eugene, and Adalbert B, also Ella, who died in infancy.
The stories that have come down to us would indicate that Benjamin Paul Jr. was a man of great physical strength, strong will, and few words. He lived a moral upright life, somewhat cool and austere. The mother, Maria Tilyou, was all that a mother should be gentle, cheerful, and highly respected among her neighbors and acquaintance. Some of her grandchildren who were present in the home when she passed away, have related the feeling of peace and serenity that seemed to pervade the house during her last few hours, as her life slipped peacefully away.
The sixth child of Benjamin Paul Jr., as we have seen, was Hollis Brayton, born August 11-1846. During his entire life he went by the name of Brayton, his signature always being written H. B. Paul. Inasmuch as this family history is being compiled by his children and grandchildren, we will from now on refer to him as -father- although during his lifetime his children usually called him Pa. In attempting to present a true and unbiased picture of his personality, perhaps his own children will find in their natural filial love for him some difficulties which another who knew him intimately, might not. However, that may be, we shall endeavor to present briefly some of his most outstanding characteristics which impressed themselves upon our childhood and have followed us down to more mature years.
Father was known among all his acquaintances as a man of deep religious convictions, his reverence for, and sober meditation on things above and beyond this life, often manifesting itself in little snatches of old half-forgotten hymns that he would sing as the mood came upon him. He always held family worship every morning just before breakfast, reading from the Bible, then the entire family would kneel while he petitioned the Throne of Grace for the day's needs. The little knees of the youngest ones often ached during what to them seemed like an unending prayer, but at its conclusion they arose with a feeling, somehow of a duty well done. He was a hard worker, never sparing himself physical fatigue on an unfinished task, and his honesty was never questioned by any one with whom he had any dealings. He was at times given to touches of melancholy, and sorrows struck deep and lasted long with him, his bearing was generally grave and dignified and at times it was easy to misunderstand his mood until a twinkle in the eye, or a quirk of the mouth would betray suppressed humor. From middle life onward, he developed a striking facial resemblance to Abraham Lincoln, - he was tall, somewhat angular, dark hair turning nearly white late in life, and the general contour of his face, and the cut of his beard and hair often caused passersby to turn and mutter something about Abraham Lincoln. For years this would often bring a chuckle from him, but as he grew older, he did not appreciate it so much and often expressed a wish that people would refrain from making such comments.
Two of father’s brothers, Ashael and Philander, as well as his sister Lucinda’s husband, John Brookings, served through the Civil War, John receiving a wound through the hip, but the other two boys coming out unscathed. They were in some of the hottest battles of the war, - First and Second Bull Run, Winchester, Cedar Creek and others, as well as the siege of Vicksburg. Father often related to his children some of the war time experiences of his older brothers, and sometimes expressed regret that he had been too young to enlist with them.
December 24-1868 father married Adella C. Curtis at her parents' home on what was then known as Granville Hill, near Sherburne N.Y. Adella was considerably shorter than her big framed powerful husband. Her hair and eyes were black and judging from old daguerreotypes which have come down to us, she must have been a lovely jewel in the new home. We have no information as to her ancestry further back than her grandparents, only that some of her ancestors not far back were High Dutch. Her ancestry however is not of such importance to us as the fact that she became our mother, - one of those mothers whose “children rise up to call her blessed.” She was quiet, unassuming, always trying to sacrifice herself for others, and quick to mend injured feelings if it lay in her power to do so. In later years her children often wondered how she brought them all through sieges of sickness, scarlet fever, measles, typhoid fever, grippe, stomach complaints and all the lesser ills of childhood, and with only the meager medical assistance the family could afford. She used all the old-fashioned home remedies that were common in those days, never spared herself in giving care for her sick ones, and besides this made it a daily practice of her life to spend a little time after everyone else was in bed, in secret prayer for help in raising her family, and teaching the little ones the path of right.
Here on Granville Hill, June 13-1870, Melvin, the first child was born. At the present time Melvin has a picture of this house in which he was born. The picture was painted by mother’s sister Lydia, who was an artist of no small ability in oil colors.
Before marriage father had taught a few terms in a country school, but after marriage he took care of his own rented farm and also worked out a great deal on neighboring farms. Some years later he worked for a while in a chair factory in Norwich, also a cheese factory, but he had no regular trade other than farming.
In 1872 the family moved from Granville Hill to a community adjacent to North Norwich known as Whaupaunaucau, (pronounced Whoppenocker) Here five more children were born, - Arthur Brayton Aug. 19-1871, Grace Vedder Aug. 19-1873, -Andrew Jackson Aug. 13-1882, -Alice May Aug. 27-1884, and Clara Lydia Jan. 27-1886. Alice was with us only a short time, passing on with the Easter Sunday morning of April 4-1885. Her body was laid away in the cemetery at North Norwich, a small headstone with her name on it marking the spot.
In the fall of 1886, the family moved to Norwich, Chenango County, New York, renting a two-story frame house on the east side of the Chenango River, about one hundred yards north of a covered wooden bridge which connected with the east end of Main St. This wooden bridge was replaced in 1893 with a more modern steel one. The house stood on a little plot of land about one- and one-half acres in extent, lying between the river and the road which runs along the foot of a high, gently sloping hill. Between the house and road stood a small group of white pine trees about as tall as the house and affording welcome shade on a hot summer day. Directly behind the house was a small vegetable garden and grape arbor, while a little to the north of this stood a small barn in which was kept the family driving mare, - Fan, whose equine sense won for her an affectionate place in the hearts of her owners. Back of the garden and small barn the ground sloped gently to the river flats, where flags and milkweed grew among the rank meadow grass, and big green frogs leaped with alarm at the sound of pattering feet. The river flowing over a gravelly bed. and eddying around the roots of overhanging willows, held the usual fascination for juvenile bathers. The older children learned to set eel lines in the river of an evening and pull in their slippery squirming catch in the morning. Many were the eel heads buried in the garden patch, mute witnesses of their owner's contribution to the family larder. Down the road a quarter mile stood an old, dilapidated hay barn in a corner of a large pasture, where Matthew Ransford kept a herd of dairy cows. On summer afternoons men would come out from town, drive the cows into this old barn and milk them. Nearby stood always a large milk can into which the milk pails were emptied. often one or two or more of the younger Paul children might be found here with their tin cups, drinking their fill of the warm milk which the kind-hearted milkmen gave them.
In the autumns, after the first heavy frosts, the children would take sacks and pails, and climb with much puffing and excited rivalry up to the chestnut trees scattered over the hillside, there to gather the winters supply of nuts to be later roasted at the kitchen stove. Butternuts were also found in quantities along the riverbanks.
It was during the residence in Norwich that much sickness occurred in our midst. In the years 1888- 1889 and 1890 the entire family had typhoid fever, father nearly dying from it in August 1890. The source of the scourge was afterwards found to be some old tanneries refuse which had been buried near the water supply. Dr. Hand took care to the sick ones during this siege, and earned the lifelong gratitude of father and mother for his skill and friendly interest in handling the family ills,
Father was a Methodist Episcopal, while his brothers and sisters were Baptists. He and his family attended regularly the Methodist Church on North Main St, a Rev. Olmstead being the pastor.
Arthur who chummed with his cousin John Brookings, sometimes attended the Baptist Church with him, then John would reciprocate by attending the Methodist Church with Arthur. They had their own way of enjoying the services. For instance, one Sunday evening in the Baptist Church, John had a long hat pin in his possession, a pin such as was used by the ladies of that time. When the congregation stood to sing John and Arthur thought it a worthwhile experiment to see how far the hat pin could be pushed into the garments of a portly lady in front of them, before she would scream. The pin was pushed so far without results that the boys could not withdraw it undetected, and fearing complications when the lady should sit down, they were seized with panic and left the Church before the hymn was finished. To this day Arthur and John still wonder if that lady required the services of a surgeon when the hymn was finished. Minnie and Sarah Paul, daughters of Uncle Philander were great friends of both Arthur and Grace. Grace also had a lifelong friend in Hattie Case of Norwich, their correspondence continuing for many years after the Pauls had moved to Minnesota.
Andrew’s boyhood chum during the residence in Norwich, was Robert Meeker, a fine lad who was always welcome in our home. Robert’s boyhood ambition was to be a foreign missionary when he grew up, but this ambition was never realized as he was accidentally killed by a train in young manhood.
Grace graduated from the Norwich High School and taught one term of school when sixteen years of age, in what was known as the Mundy district a few miles West of Norwich. Andrew and Clara attended a small country school about a half mile north of their home, and a short distance to the east on the first crossroad beyond the farm owned by Henry Grant.
Directly across the Chenango Valley on the hillside above town, lived Aunt Lucinda, father’s sister and her husband, John Brookings. They had one child, John, who later became a Baptist clergyman in spite of the hat pin episode and other boyish pranks. It was to Aunt Lucinda’s house that Grace was hustled on the morning of April 15-1888 to get her out of the way while Dr. Hand helped usher Walter into the world. When father came for her in the evening and announced the advent of another baby brother, Grace was very indignant that such an extra burden should be thrust upon the family care, but, - according to her own statement later in life, - one look at the red faced, kicking, yelling newcomer melted her heart and she accepted the fact as the greatest event of the year.
From the Paul children’s viewpoint, Aunt Lucinda and Uncle John, were the personification of all that is good and desirable in such family relatives. We children were always welcome, given the run of the place and found willing ears for all childish joys, sorrows or hopes. Aunt Lucinda would tell us to “rummage” anywhere we wished in the house, the bedrooms, through the parlor, and bureau draws, upstairs or downstairs, and also showed us an attractive little place in the pantry where brown sugar could be found, “in case we wanted some any time.” Dear Soul! The brown sugar was no sweeter than her character, and we “rummaged” through the corridors of her noble heart as well. Close beside their house was a small stone quarry where Uncle John blasted out and cut stone as required. He was an expert stone cutter and had cut a cool room back into the rocky hillside just back of the kitchen door, where milk, butter and meat could be kept cool as in a refrigerator, even on the hottest days of summer. Rainwater settled in a large pool in the bottom of his quarry, and he would often show us the pollywogs and frogs swimming about, or if eyes were not sharp enough, he would skip bits of slate across the water to show us where to look. The house where he was born stood only a stone's throw further down the hill, and his entire life had been spent in these two homes, with the exception of the time he served in the Civil War.
In 1891 Uncle Andrew, who was an office in the State Prison at Howard R.I., visited us and offered to secure a position similar to his own for Melvin, if he cared to take it. Melvin gladly accepted the offer and soon after went to Howard, working there as an officer until the spring of 1900 when he resigned and went west. In later years he would sometimes hold his brothers and sisters spell-bound while he related some of his experiences as an officer in the prison.
It was during Melvin’s stay in Rhode Island that he met Bessie McNabb and was married to her June 23-1897, in the Congregational parsonage in Petticonset R.I., where they had been attending church. Bessie’s home was at Upper Malagash, Cumberland County Nova Scotia. Her father had died there several years previously, but her mother lived on in the old home until past 90 years of age, a spry, happy intelligent lady, with intellect scarcely touched with the hand of time.
In the autumn of 1892, Eliza, the wife of Cassius Merritt of Duluth, and her daughters, Carrie and Olive, and son Charles went east visiting relatives, and stopped at Norwich for a few days visit with the Pauls. This Eliza, as well as Mary Felt Dow, and Charles Felt, (who will be referred to later) were first cousins to mother, they being the children of Grandfather Curtis’ sister Caroline. During this visit Eliza suggested to Arthur that he come to Duluth to work for her husband. Arthur gave her no encouragement to the idea and the matter was dropped for the time being. After her return to Duluth however, Arthur received a letter from Cassius Merrit asking him to come. He immediately replied that he would go. He arrived in Duluth January 1-1893. Cassius Merritt was one of the seven Merritt brothers who figured so prominently in the discovery of iron ore on the Missabe and Vermillion ranges in Northern Minnesota. They were also the original promoters of the Duluth Missabe and Northern Railway, which later became the heaviest carrier of iron ore in the world. A complete and absorbingly interesting story of the Merritt family, has been written by Paul DeKruff in his book entitled, “Seven Iron Men.”
After Arthur’s arrival in Duluth a three-cornered correspondence developed between himself, Melvin in Howard R.I. and father in Norwich N.Y. relative to the opportunities in the country which was so rapidly developing around the Head of the Lakes. Financially, the future did not look very encouraging for the family if they were to remain in New York State, so the final decision was that things would be no worse, but possibly better in Minnesota.
In November 1893, father sold what few belongings could be spared, and shipped the balance by freight to Duluth, the family to follow soon afterwards. For father and mother, it was a time of tugging at heartstrings which perhaps even the older children failed to realize at the time, much less the younger ones who saw in it all only a big adventure, with many new and strange sights to see. In Chenango County were the old familiar scenes, rich in memories of bye gone days, to which many fond references would be made in the years to come.
The journey was made via Buffalo, Niagara Falls and Chicago. Crossing Niagara Gorge in the night we did not get a glimpse of the falls, or of the swift, tumbling waters below, but considerable excitement prevailed in our little group as the train was crossing the long bridge, and we youngsters speculated upon the prodigious splash and destruction that would follow a possible derailment of our train. The train however stayed on the track, as all proper trains should, and we arrived safely in Chicago the following evening. Here it was necessary to change depots to get our next train for Duluth. The transfer was made in a horse drawn bus, through some of the busiest streets of Chicago, the bus driver’s skill impressing us all as being worthy of a true son of Ben Hur, and so much breath was held during the transfer that it is a wonder to relate that our lungs continued to function afterwards.
Arriving in Duluth in the early evening, the family was met by the Cassius Merritts, and taken directly to the Merrit Home which stood in what is now West End, near the hill where the Duluth Missabe and Northern tracks swing out onto the ore docks. Here the newcomers rested for a few days before moving into the Merritt Block in what was then called Oneota but is now a part of West Duluth. It was situated on the present Oneota Street, between 42 and 43 Aves. It faced the bay and was of two stories, the first floor being used as storerooms, one of which was vacant. The upper floor was divided off into flats, in which four families lived. In one lived Charles Felt, his wife Carrie, and daughters Florence, Lillian and Lulu. Another family in the group was Alfred Doe, his wife Mary, one daughter, Lulu and one son Richard. The Pauls occupied a third flat. The fourth one was occupied by another family whose name is forgotten.
At this time Duluth was coming to be known as the greatest iron ore shipping point in the world. Lumbering was also an important industry, and several large sawmills were located about the harbor and up St. Louis Bay, operating the year around. Ore was handled almost entirely in the big steel steamers as now, but occasionally lumber was shipped out in sailing vessels which were towed by tugs, up to the loading places beside the sawmills or lumber yards where they received their cargoes. A common type of ore carrier was the “whale-back” a long cigar shaped steel vessel with rounding sides and top, with a narrow flat deck, the idea being that with heavy cargo aboard, this form of hull could withstand more severe battering about in a heavy sea. As there was no canal through Minnesota Point, all ships to or from Duluth had to go around the point.
The big boats moving up or down the bay was an endless source of wonder to us children, so were also the little puffing self-important tugs that seemed to be always busy bustling here and there about other ships business, towing booms of logs into position for the sawmills or helping the larger vessels into and out of their berths. Schooners were often seen and once at least we saw a square rigger come around the point. When the bay froze over it made a wonderful skating rink which was taken advantage of by most of the older children in town as well as many of the grown-ups. Her in the Merritt Block at Oneota, the family experienced its first Minnesota winter. Father spent part of the winter working in the mines in Virginia, the balance of the winter he worked at such jobs as could be secured in Duluth. Arthur continued working for Cassius Merritt, and at the same time attending the Duluth Business College, until he contracted typhoid fever which brought an abrupt cessation to most of his activities for the balance of the winter. Andrew and Clara attended a nearby school regularly through the winter months.
The panic of 1893 brought about such a business depression throughout the country that before the winter was over it became obvious that some further plan would have to be worked out for the future good of the family. There in Oneota the living expenses were high, chances for steady employment and prospects for the future seemed altogether too meager. With the farm life experience as a background, naturally the family plans turned back to that occupation in hopes of a material betterment.
At that time the old St. Paul and Duluth Railroad, now a part of the Northern Pacific, and known among railroad men as the “skally”, was looking for settlers to build up its territory between St. Paul and the Head of the Lakes. Most of this territory was sparsely settled and covered with pine and hardwood forests, with some tamarack and cedar swamps in the lowlands.
After considerable investigation, correspondence and family discussion, father and Arthur went to Barnum, Minn. early in the spring of 1894, with the object in view of finding some desirable land to buy, on which to establish the future home. Good farmland easily cleared and only a few miles from the railroad towns was selling for $5.00 per acre, with plenty of time in which to pay for it. Being cautious of taking any hasty action that might later be regretted, it was decided for the present to rent a farm of some 80 acres, lying one mile west of the railroad, and about two- and one-half miles south of Barnum. This farm was owned by Andrew Anderson of Barnum, who was sometimes referred to as “Black Anderson,” from his dark hair and swarthy complexion. He owned besides the farm, a sawmill, a small hotel and store in town.
Barnum was a town of three or four hundred people, two general stores, three churches, one schoolhouse, a sawmill, three small hotels, a land office and several saloons. Considerable lumbering was carried on each winter in the immediate vicinity, in fact nearly every town along the St. Paul and Duluth Railroad had a sawmill running the year around. Millions of feet of logs were also driven down the Kettle River each year.
On May 3-1894, we moved from Oneota to the Anderson Farm near Barnum. The house was a comfortable two-story square building, with very little ornamentation of any kind. A long woodshed and summer kitchen joined it on the west side. A few rods to the south stood a somewhat dilapidated hay barn, while to the southwest were the smaller buildings housing the cows, pigs, horses and chickens Around the clearing, which comprised approximately forty acres stood the forest of birch, poplar, pine and balsam, mostly cut over land. With the exception of a family by the name of Newman, living a quarter mile to the North there were no close neighbors.
Farming in the surrounding territory was done on a very limited scale, the only farms of any size being that of John Goodell who operated a stock farm on top of the hill just back of town, and one owned by Martin Cain, a lumberman four miles east. Other smaller farms were being opened up but at this time were scarcely past the Pioneer stage.
Mr. Anderson proved to be a good landlord and treated us fairly and helped us to get accustomed to ways and means of management in our new surroundings. When the deer commenced destroying our garden, father went to Mr. Anderson for advice as to how they could be kept out and was promptly offered the loan of a rifle. When father told him we already had a 44 Winchester which had been used for woodchucks back East, Mr. Anderson’s reply was a gruff, enquiring, “Well?”- which spoke volumes and eventually led to the transformation of venison on the hoof in our garden, into venison steak on our table.
One morning soon after we were settled, mother, while preparing breakfast looked toward the old hay barn and espied a deer cropping the tender spring grass. This later proved to be a common sight and mother would often go to the door and shake her apron at the deer to see how fast they would run. On one occasion an over-inquisitive young moose followed Arthur and Ed Anderson part way home from town. They took the rifle and returned to the edge of the woods where they took up his trail and soon succeeded in bagging him. To tell the truth, this method of securing our meat, at first caused us more or less anxiety for fear of embarrassing complications with the game wardens, but we soon learned that it was the customary way for the settlers to provide themselves with fresh meat, and the game wardens never bothered them so long as they used it for their own needs. The first deer we had was dressed in one of the bedrooms as being the most unlikely place to be discovered in case of unexpected callers. Truly it has been said-” Conscience doth make cowards of us all.”
There being no school closer than town, Grace who had taught school in New York State, decided to do what she could for the intellectual improvement of her brothers and younger sister. A spare room upstairs was cleared of useless objects, a couple of makeshift desks and some chairs were put in, old books from the meager family library, as well as some found on the place, were assembled and dusted off, and each morning except Saturday and Sunday, school was called to order and Andrew, Clara and Walter were given lessons, to be prepared for recitation at the appropriate time. This form of schooling, with mother’s help was carried on more or less regularly for several years until the children again had the opportunity of attending a regular public school. In fact, Walter learned to read and advanced in other common school subjects by this method to what might be called about the sixth grade, entirely under his sister Grace’s and Mother’s tutelage, before he finally attended a public school.
In September of this year occurred the great forest fire known as the “Hinckley fire of 1894”, in which the town of Hinckley thirty-three miles south of us, was destroyed and hundreds of lives were lost there and in the surrounding country. The smoke was so dense that day that our chickens went to roost about 2 PM.
It was about this time that local fires raged through the neighboring woods in our own locality. The day they were the worst Andrew was put on the back of Billy the horse and sent into town to tell Mr. Anderson his buildings were in danger, and we would need help to save them. Billy made the quickest and most important trip of his life and in due time a wagon containing men and equipment arrived, drawn by a pair of galloping horses, covered with sweat and dust.
Furniture, bedding and everything else of value that was movable was set out in an oat field in front of the house, while the new arrivals from town helped father and Arthur keep the shingles wet and backfire the dry grass to save the buildings. That afternoon a large black bear came out of the blazing forest and took refuge in the barn yard near the cows, scarcely deigning to notice father as he went to do the milking. The Newman house being more exposed to the fire, Mr. Newman brought his two little children to our Farm near Barnum. The house was a comfortable two-story house to stay the night where they would be safer, but he and his wife refused to come as they hoped to save the little beginning of a home they had already made, and which represented all their worldly possessions. In the night as we children lay awake, we could hear Mr. and Mrs. Newman calling to each other as they fought back the encroaching flames from their dooryard, and to our childish minds it seemed that they themselves must be burning up. In the morning we were very happy when they came to tell us they, as well as their home were safe, and their children might return. In a day or two the fire had spent its fury and had left a blackened smoking waste behind. Billy being nowhere to be seen we naturally supposed that he had met a fiery death, until a few days later we discovered him laboriously picking his way towards home through the muck of a nearby swamp, in which he had instinctively taken refuge from the fire. The family immediately went into ecstasies of joy over his safe return, and father going to meet him led him home to the tune of the old song, - “Oh Where Have You Been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?” But poor Billy not being musically inclined seemed chiefly interested in a generous helping of oats, to remove the taste of implantable swamp grass and moss.
In the fall of 1894, father and Arthur located some good land about six miles east of Barnum on section 22, township 46, range 18. The only roads near the land were tie or logging roads which usually followed the lowest and most level land which made good roads for winter travel but were more or less impassable for vehicles in the summer. In March 1895, we left the Anderson farm and moved to a log house southeast of Barnum and about a mile from our land. A man by the name of Sargent who was engaged in cutting and selling railroad ties, had used this place during the winter as a tie camp. The workmen moved out just before we moved in. The trees and underbrush came up close around the cabin and game were often seen in the surrounding forest. Wolves sometimes joined each other in a midnight serenade, or perhaps the far-off cry of a bob cat, mingling with the nearer sighing of the night winds through the tall balsams and spruces, all contributed to an eerie feeling that strange spirits were abroad.
We stayed in this cabin until about the first of May, when we moved, this time into our own log house built on the newly purchased land. Father had bought 40 acres, Arthur 80 acres and Melvin 80 acres all adjoining. Our cabin stood on the NW ¼ of the NW ¼ of Sec 22, while Melvin’s land lay in the SW ¼ of section 15, Arthur’s lay next east of us. The land was fairly level, but part of it sloped gently to a creek which meandered through four forties. This creek was the water supply for our stock, and some winters when the cold was so severe that the water froze clear to the bottom, we found it necessary to melt ice and snow in boilers and kettles over the kitchen range in order to water our thirsty animals. The soil was a sandy loam with a few strips part clay, and one or two strips of rock.
The house was a rough log one built of unpeeled logs, six rooms; a kitchen and dining room, sitting room, four small bedrooms, with board floors, board roof covered with tarred paper, board doors and homemade wooden door latches, - a typical example of backwoods architecture common to that time and locality. Besides the house there was also a small barn, chicken house and a small storage building which was called the “shop” Moving was a problem as the roads such as there were could hardly be used with team and wagon, so it was necessary to move most of our belongings by hand and on the back. The large heating stove which was to keep us warm through the long winters, was carried slung between two poles, with father grasping one end and Arthur the other. Other heavy pieces of furniture were carried in the same way.
Time was too short after doing the necessary clearing to put in much of a crop the first year, but we did succeed in planting a small garden and raised enough potatoes, rutabagas, and cabbages and other garden crops, to last us until the next summer. Blueberries were plentiful nearly every year, and mother always filled what few fruit jars she could afford, as well as a variety of old discarded jugs, and snuff jars, picked up around the Anderson house. These latter were closed with loosely fitting wooden plugs which were sealed tightly with melted resin, the berries keeping perfectly. Wild meat was plentiful, and we usually had venison the year around, also in the fall and winter we varied our meat diet with partridges and rabbits. When a deer was killed in cold weather there was no problem in keeping the meat until we could use it, but in warm weather when we could get meat no other way, we would shoot a deer in the evening, dress it by lantern light, and by morning part of it would be drying, a few pieces would be salted, we would have fried steak for breakfast, and the rest mother would cook up tender and fine, season it in a way of her own with sage and salt and pack it down like butter in earthenware jars, putting a clean cloth and a layer of salt over the top. These she would keep down cellar, - the coolest place we had in summer, - and in about a week this packed meat would jell and become firm. We would then cut it out of the jars as needed, eating it cold or warmed up as desired. We all liked corn meal “Johnny Cake” and later when we acquired a cow or two, we had our own milk, butter and “dutch cheese”. So, on the whole we usually had plenty to eat, and firewood could always be had for the cutting, but aside from this we had no luxuries, and often went without other things that we would today consider indispensable.
Each fall we would go into the woods with gunnysacks and pull up thick heavy moss which grows in low shaded places in the spruce swamps. This we would use for chinking the logs in our house, using a short stick with a broad pointed end, we would take the moss by small bunches and pound it into the spaces between the logs, this operation would force most of the surplus water out of the moss and make a fairly tight seam between the logs. Sometimes after a year or so it would loosen in places, or the natural warping of the logs during changes of temperature would loosen the chinking so that on a morning after a cold, windy winter night we might bounce out of bed and find our bare feet in a little patch of snow on the floor, or perhaps we might wake up in the night and feel the fine snow sifting in between the logs and falling on our faces.
For the first few years we were comparatively isolated, sometimes a week or more passing without sight of any human face outside our own family circle. Mail was received only when gone after, - six miles over poor roads- sometimes afoot, sometimes on the back of one of our horses. Neighbors were scarce. Possibly the first one we came to know was old man Jukes, a pessimistic garrulous character living alone in a ramshackle log cabin about a mile south of us. He was given to fits of melancholy, and brooding silence, at other times he would be in more cheerful mood and sit by the hour relating incidents of his younger days, or perhaps he would engage in argument with father about some triviality that seemed to excite him greatly. One and a quarter miles northeast of us were the Pineos, a very fine family, who spent the colder months of the year in their home in Duluth. Barney Pineo, a relative of theirs, but of an entirely different type, lived by himself in a small house a half mile from them. He had a long, flowing beard, liberally stained with tobacco juice, and in conversation was given to much profanity and considerable boasting. When he went to town or on an errand about the neighborhood, he bestrode a small dark brown mare, and always presented a quaint figure as he cantered down the road, his long legs dangling, coat tails flapping, wide brimmed hat turned up in front, and his long, tobacco-stained beard parted in the middle and flowing out to the breeze on either side. Then there were the Youngs, an aged father and mother, and their grown-up daughter Anna, who was deaf and dumb and a very good friend of Grace’s. Anna sometimes stayed overnight with Grace and would make herself understood by means of signs or by writing a few words on a bit of paper. She had a keen sense of humor and would make funny sounds in her throat when she wanted to laugh or giggle, all of which was very interesting to us younger ones. After two or three years, the Dyes moved in, father mother two boys and the grandmother, - Mrs. Munger. Then the Soltaus, Blackursts, Woodburys, Linds, Knapps, Hagbergs, Reeves’ and others, until we finally had fair sized community which came to be known by the name of Deer Park. This name stuck until the Soo Line was built through that neighborhood in 1909, when the name was changed to Nemadji, after the Nemadji river, a small stream having its rise a mile or so south-east of us and emptying into Lake Superior near the City of Superior.
Now and then as the country settled up neighbors would drop in for a visit when they came our way, and we did the same by them when the opportunity offered, but outside of that the social gatherings were few and far between. The first or second year we acquired an old secondhand parlor organ, which afforded us much pleasure, as Grace and Clara learned to play it, and often of an evening the whole family would gather around for a family “sing”, father’s voice leading prominent above the others, as he sang either bass or tenor in a strong voice. Most of the selections were hymns, some of them old ones, such as “Shall we meet beyond the river?” “Beckoning Hands” There is a fountain filled with blood” etc. On the rare occasions when we had company in the evening the singing time around the organ was likely to be the last event before the guests departed. In later years, “surprise parties” came into vogue, especially in the winter. It made no difference to the callers or the callees where the party was held or whether a person was dressed up or not, nobody noticed old clothes, or humble home surroundings, the fun and hospitality blended into a happy evening for everyone concerned.
One peculiarity about Deer Park in its earlier days was this: for a number of years every family that settled there proved to be fine God-fearing people belonging to some religious denomination or other, Methodist Episcopal, Free Methodist, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Evangelical, Baptists, and others. In time it came about that the folks wanted religious services of some kind but were too poor to build even a small church. Therefore, they arranged for a preaching service every other week, and Sunday School every Sunday, both to be held at somebody’s home. One Sunday the services would be held at Soltaus, next Sunday at Lockes, then at Dyes, and Pauls, and so on around the neighborhood. When no regular minister was available for the preaching service some local person would take charge, sometimes it would be father himself, but usually it was John Blackhurst, who worked a farm and in later years became a regularly ordained minister in the M. E. Church. John Blackhurst was one of God’s Saints, and exerted an influence for good in the community that cannot be overestimated. Often clothed in overalls he would address a Sunday afternoon gathering, supplementing his talk by playing the organ and singing a solo. The Paul children drew much from the teaching and everyday life of this good man. He also became father’s closest friend. In addition to the Sunday services midweek prayer meetings were usually held during the winter months at the different homes. It was seldom that a home was not filled on these occasions, deep snow, or below zero weather having little effect on the spiritual fires glowing within.
In 1899 the people got together, laid aside what vestiges of denominational differences might have existed and built a little church about three quarters of a mile north of the present Nemadji station, on the west side of the road. Father furnished the logs which were sawed into lumber in Woodbury’s little sawmill, and John Blackhurst paid the saw bill. Others contributed to cover the cost of shingles, plaster, windows, etc., and the labor in erecting and painting the building was all donated.
It early became the custom in Deer Park, to hold community celebrations on July 4th, Thanksgiving Day and Christmas, and such events they were! The July 4th celebrations were held in a balsam grove across the road from Soltau’s home which was one mile east of Cain’s Corner. A large board platform was built, large enough for the speakers, the choir and organ. In front of this were five or six plank benches long enough to accommodate the audience. To one side several long board tables were put up to hold the dinner. As all this was in the open air, the success of our gathering depended upon the weather. The program would start about 11 AM with an opening prayer, then a reading of the Declaration of Independence, two or three patriotic songs, and one or two speeches, or perhaps a few numbers from the children would follow. Immediately after this would come a general recess until dinner was ready when everybody would sit down to the tables, like one big family and partake of dinner. Afterwards there would be a ball game, then the party would break up so everybody could get home in time to do the evening chores.
Thanksgiving and Christmas was celebrated at the Church. On Thanksgiving Day a long table would be set nearly full length of the church, most of the food would be brought ready prepared, but that which had to be warmed up would be placed on the big heating stove in the rear, until after the Thanksgiving sermon was over when everything would be placed on the table and dinner would be served. On one occasion mother had put a large pail full of coffee with a tight-fitting cover on the hot stove just before the sermon commenced and forgot to loosen the cover. All was well until the preacher got well warmed up to his subject, when the steam generated in the covered pail, blew the cover and entire contents clear to the ceiling, with a loud report. The amber colored fountain hit the ceiling and came down again on the unsuspecting congregation with a “slosh” that considerably dampened the preachers' remarks. Mother often laughed afterwards about the performance of her high-powered coffee during divine services.
At Christmas celebrations we usually had one or two large trees covered with candles and other decorations, and always a program in which the children took a large part. Sometimes the building would scarcely hold the crowd. While speaking of Christmas celebrations it might be well to mention the family celebrations we had for many years in our own home. Being always poor, it was the custom for us to make our gifts instead of buying them, mother or Grace would knit or sew little remembrances, and the other children would make little knick knacks, match holders, bookmarks, letter files etc. We would usually have some candy and nuts, and distant relatives would send small gifts to each one. The day before Christmas we would put up a tree in the sitting room, and Christmas morning mother and Grace would trim it and place the gifts, while the rest of us were confined to the kitchen if we were allowed in the house at all. At the proper time, - either in the afternoon or early evening, the dining room door would be opened and everyone, including Carlo, the old dog, would go in to see the tree and admire the decorations. We would have one or two Christmas songs and perhaps two or three “pieces” would be spoken by way of a program and after that the distribution of our little gifts to each one.
Within a year or two after our arrival at Deer Park we acquired a team of horses, two or three cows and some chickens and a pig or two. Some farm machinery was bought, - a wagon, plow, cultivator etc., and to help in clearing the land of stumps we used a long one-inch rope and several single and double pulleys, by means of which we pulled stumps after first cutting a few of the largest roots. Most of the clearing was done in the early spring, while the frost was going out of the ground, or in the fall after the summers work was done, the stumps were piled up and burned, and logs that today would be excellent lumber, were rolled up into piles and burned to get them out of the way. Most of the winters supply of feed for the cows was wild hay cut with a hand scythe along the creek bottom land, or on old overgrown logging roads in the vicinity. On the creek bottom were the remains of several old beaver dams, so old were they that in plowing through them no trace was to be found of the logs and brush that the beavers had originally put into them.
One day in the early spring of 1896, father started over the trail for Pineo’s place taking with him only a small 22 caliber rifle. When he was halfway to his destination a large mother bear with three small cubs, aroused a commotion close to the trail, and after hustling her three cubs up a large poplar tree, beat a hasty and noisy retreat into the underbrush. Father made his way to the foot of the tree where he watched to see the cubs did not escape while he called lustily for help. Mother, nearly beside herself on hearing the far-off outcries, called Arthur from the field who hurried to the house took down the big rifle and went off at a run to see what it was all about. Finding his father safe they held a whispered consultation after which father continued on his way and Arthur climbed the tree in which the cubs by this time were asleep. Everything now being quiet the mother bear started back to the tree to get her cubs while Arthur brought the rifle into position across a tree limb and waited until he could get a clear sight at her, when a well-directed shot ended her career. Upon father’s return to the tree, Arthur left him in charge of the cubs while he returned home to get sacks, rope and axe. With the rest of the children trailing at his heels he returned to the tree, made a noose with the rope on one end of a long pole, climbed the tree and snaring each cub one by one lowered them to the waiting sacks below. The cubs were then taken home and placed in a large box until a suitable enclosure of logs could be built for them. This enclosure was afterwards called the “bear’s den” and many were the hours we spent there watching the playful antics of the inmates. They became quite tame and would eat from our hands, although we were always wary of their long claws with which they would reach through the bars of their door to snatch bits of food from our fingers. Father usually fed them, putting their food in a wooden trough kept there for the purpose. After they had licked it clean, they would turn the trough upside down and leave it in that position until next feeding time, when they would turn it right side up again at father’s approach with the feed pail.
About this same time, we caught two red and three black fox kits and kept them in another similar enclosure. The foxes never became tame like the bears and would only eat if mother fed them. One fall these bears and foxes were exhibited at the Carlton County fair in Barnum and attracted much attention.
Between 1895 and 1897 Grace taught in a school two miles east of Barnum, and one term in a school about one mile west of Barnum in what she called “Battle Avenue” from the scrappy propensities of the local people. During the school year of 1897-1898 and 1898-1899, she taught school at Split Rock eleven miles West of Moose Lake, a community made up mostly of Poles, with one or two German families but no native Americans. The schoolhouse was located about three miles southwest of the present village of Kettle River. While teaching school at Split Rock, Grace rented a room in the home of a Polish family by the name of Kwapack, and boarded herself. The first year, Andrew boarded and went to school with her, the next year Walter did the same until Christmas, and Clara from New Years until the end of the school year. These two winters were a big help in the schooling of the three youngest children. As we have mentioned before home schooling had been commenced on the Anderson place under Grace’s direction and this had continued more or less regularly ever since. When Grace was away from home mother would give what help was needed. Progress was somewhat slow, but the children all had a natural liking for books and in the quietness of the home they made up for a great deal they would otherwise have lost. A few years later, Mrs. Munger, the grandmother in the Dye household, sent word around the neighborhood that she would undertake teaching all children who came to her, providing they furnished their own books and seats. She was a retired schoolteacher herself and very competent and well educated. The offer was gladly accepted by several families including the Pauls and when the opening day arrived a little straggling line of pupils made their way to Grandma Munger’s place each bearing, books, lunch pail, and a box or old chair upon which to sit. In 1900 a small country school building was erected one mile northeast of the Paul home and a regular teacher employed. It was in this building that Clara afterwards taught several terms. This building was torn down about 1910 when a large, consolidated school was built was built three miles further north.
In the fall of 1896 Arthur went to work in the harvest fields of North Dakota and in 1897 he went to Kalispell Mont, where he worked in the lumbering industry until his return in 1900.
Soon after his return from Kalispell Arthur decide to take a homestead near Ripple, -afterwards named Big Falls. Leaving Bemidji March 12-1901, he arrived at Big Falls March 17th on St. Patrick’s Day. The trip took five days through entirely unsettled country over frozen muskeg swamps and through stands of virgin pine and spruce and hardwood. One night enroute he spent in a tent with a surveying crew at Dinner Creek, near the present town of Margie. He filed on a homestead about two miles west of Big Falls on the south bank of the Big Fork River.
Considerable logging and tie making was carried on each winter throughout the country around Deer Park, as there were many tracts of large white and Norway Pine and swamps full of tamarack. The largest lumbering concern near Barnum was Sauntry and Cain who had several camps scattered for miles around, and at Cain’s Corner, three miles east of Barnum, they maintained a large farm where they kept their horses for logging purposes and raised feed and vegetables during the summer for their winter camps. This was also a large winter camp and center of logging operations for several years. They operated a large sawmill at Sandy Lake near the present town of Blackhoof. Late each fall when the winter roads had been cleared and the ground was frozen large sled-like contraptions with heavy knives under the runners, were dragged over the frozen roads, cutting ruts, one on each side which were flooded with water on the first cold night, making a pair of iced ruts, which later, would carry enormous sled loads of logs. These logging sleds were nine feet wide or more and the loads of logs were built up squarely to a height of seven or eight feet above the bunks, the whole bound together with chains. Arthur worked several winters in the logging camps and when Ed Woodbury built his small sawmill about a mile from us, both Arthur and Andrew worked there at different times.
In 1897 better roads were being opened up and the usual route to town then led north from the present Soo Line station at Nemadji to a point approximately two miles straight north where the road turns west at Cain’s Corner and ran directly west to Barnum. In order however to reach the main highway we still had about a mile of wretched road through mud holes, over rocks, and some corduroy. In winter most of the settlers in the south part of Deer Park used a winter road running in a general north-westerly direction coming out on the east side of Bear Lake across that lake to Chub Lake, and into Barnum on the Big Lake Road from Mud Creek. Previous to 1897 the Pauls, summer or winter, went directly west over a crooked narrow woods road, coming out on the Mud Creek Meadows crossing them, then between Big Lake and Hanging Horns Lake and so into town. Years when hay was scarce, we would purchase a stack on this Mud Creek meadow and haul the hay through the woods to our place. Often deer would be seen feeding from hay that had caught on overhanging branches and roadside brush.
One fall father and mother invited a Rev. Brandt and his family to come out from Barnum and spend a few days with us, but it was difficult to make them understand where they were to leave the main road, for our crooked muddy one. So father promised to have a sign up for their guidance. On the day appointed when the reverend gentlemen and his family reached the turn-off, they found father’s sign, which Andrew had painted in heavy black letters on a large white board, - “To Paul’s, one mile. Drive easy and abstain from profanity” For years afterward father derived many a chuckle from recollections of that sign.
In 1899 mother wrote her sister, Aunt Lydia Joles in Binghampton N.Y. asking her to make us a visit. The invitation was repeated several times without an encouraging reply, until finally Grace wrote her again stating that if she would visit us in August, she, Grace, would arrange a nice little wedding for her to attend. This proved to be an irresistible inducement and as soon as a reply had time to reach us a card was received stating on what train she would reach Barnum. Her husband Will stayed at home to look after their little glove factory. This was the first visit from anyone back East, and the event was looked forward to with keen excitement, mother’s eyes often filling with tears and her voice quavering in happy anticipation of the event. Even the bride-groom-to-be was so elated that when perched on the top of some scaffolding engaged in putting up a “welcome” sign, he stepped backward into space, thinking to get a better view of his handiwork, - and instead, received such a bump on the floor that he saw a whole galaxy of shooting stars instead.
When Aunt Lydia arrived in July, she was brought out from town in the lumber-wagon over very rough roads. This, with the long journey by rail had about worn her out, but after a few days rest she began to take much interest in her new surroundings. Blueberries were plentiful that year, and she spent part of that time picking berries close to the house. She also had her first taste of venison. She helped to decorate the cabin for Grace’s wedding and commenced the practice which she continued with each of the Paul children, of giving them for a wedding present one or more of her own oil paintings. She was an artist of no mean ability in oil colors. It was at this festive occasion that mother opened a large jar of plums which had grown on the old place at Norwich, and which she had canned just before we left there in 1893.
George Potts Watson, one of the principals in the above-mentioned wedding, became acquainted with Grace one or two years before. He was a Methodist Episcopal Minister. He was born at Grimsby, Lincolnshire Eng. Sept. 5-1867. Leaving that country for America June 22-1888 accompanied by his father George W Watson. The elder Watson returned to England after a short stay in this country, but George P. remained to work and complete his education. He attended Northwestern University, and Hamline University, He became a Methodist Episcopal Minister and held several pastorates in Northern Minnesota and at the time of his marriage was minister at Bemidji Min. to which place the bride was taken immediately after the wedding. Grace and George will appear from time to time in this history, but for the present we must confine ourselves to events more closely connected with the family life in Deer Park.
During the Christmas Holidays of 1900, Richard Doe, the son of Alfred and Mary Doe, spent two weeks with us, and in company with Walter spent a large part of the time in an effort to trap mink. Their efforts were unsuccessful so far as the trapping was concerned, but Richard’s visit was a bright spot in the hum-drum family life. Richard was accidentally killed about five years later. His sister Lulu became a kindergarten teacher in Superior Wis. and followed that profession for many years.
In the early spring of 1900, Melvin and Bessie with their two-year-old daughter Margaret, came west, Melvin having resigned from his position in Howard R.I. It had now been nearly three years since Melvin and Bessie were married and this was the first opportunity for the rest of the family to see and become personally acquainted with Bessie, so of course much speculation and eager curiosity was in evidence before her arrival. The country in which we lived was entirely different from what they had been accustomed to in the east, and the rough log walls of our home and the forest about us must have seemed to them like a different world. Bessie soon won for herself a place in the hearts of each one, which she never afterwards lost. They reached Barnum in the early morning and father met them with the team and sleigh, reaching home in time for breakfast. They lived with the rest of the family until after Ernest was born in 1901, when Melvin had completed a log house about a quarter mile north, on one of his forties. There Melvin and Bessie kept house until the fall of 1902 when they moved to Johnson Minn, where Melvin had secured a position as station agent for the Great Northern Railway, moving from there in 1906 to Partridge afterwards renamed Askov Minn, from which place they again moved to Northome Minn in the spring of 1908. It was during the residence in Deer Park that Bessie had a siege of typhoid fever, a serious thing in those days with doctors almost out of reach.
Doctors were rarely seen in Deer Park. Dr Inez Legg, an elderly lady doctor had an office in Barnum, and a timber claim northeast of Deer Park on the Nemadji River. Part of her time she spent on the claim, and sometimes in going to or from town, she would visit around a bit, eating supper here, getting a nights lodging and breakfast there and so on, meantime doctoring any one in need of her services, and keeping her ears open for others who might be sick. She was an intelligent woman and skillful in her chosen calling, although sometimes the younger generation would smile at her unwieldy figure and not overly neat garments, but nevertheless she was always welcome wherever she went. On one occasion when five-year-old Willie Soltau fell from a tree onto a sharp stick which punctured his abdomen, Dr. Legg being in the neighborhood was hastily summoned. Upon her arrival she gave Willie’s young sister a brief lesson on the administering of anesthetics, and, using the kitchen table during the operation, she removed most of Willie’s digestive apparatus, washed and repaired and replaced it and sewed him up. Willie completely recovered.
During Melvin’s residence in Deer Park, he interested Andrew in shorthand, with the result that Andrew studied and practiced it at all hours of the day and night until he became very proficient in it, often making notes of the Sunday sermon and later writing it out in full. The boys put up a telegraph line between the two houses and with Melvin’s help, both Andrew and Walter learned telegraphy.
One day in the summer of 1903, Andrew and Walter tramped across country to Nickerson, following most of the way and old abandoned railroad grade which had been used for several years in logging operations. On arriving at Nickerson, they visited the large sawmill and also the Great Northern Depot. Finding an opening as helper in the depot, Andrew got the job, and a short time later went there to work. This was the beginning of his many years of railroad work.
In 1904, Aunt Lydia again came west to visit us, this time accompanied by her husband Will. They stayed several weeks and enjoyed themselves immensely as in fact we all did. Uncle Will was full of quiet humor and drolleries and one of his greatest joys was to squat down in the midst of a good patch of ripe blueberries where the fruit was large and plentiful, there to eat his fill. Perhaps the biggest event during their visit was when Uncle Will and Arthur one evening took their rifles and went to a “deer lick’ a mile south of our place in hopes of shooting a deer. While watching for venison, they discovered a large black bear coming through the brush toward them, all unconscious of his danger. The two hunters fired at the same instant and the bear dropped in his tracks. Arthur afterwards cured the skin and Uncle Will took it back east with him as atrophy from the “wilds” of Minnesota.
While on the subject of bears and blueberries, it might be well to recall an experience mother had the following summer. One day she put on her sunbonnet took a pail and went to a blueberry patch about a quarter mile from our cabin, but not in sight of it, owing to the intervening trees and underbrush. Busying herself in filling the pail with berries she took little note of her surroundings until a peculiar noise caused her to look up and her eyes met the inquiring gaze of a bear, who like herself was engaged in gathering berries. Between bites he would raise his head to study her, and between handfuls she would raise her head to study him, until a mutual understanding seems to have been reached, when they both continued picking berries unafraid. After a while the bear decided he had enough of her society as well as the berries, so he ambled off through the brush, now and then casting a backward glance over his shoulder to make sure all was well.
Both father and mother always took an interest in the wild things of the woods. One summer father found a young fawn hardly old enough to run, which he caught with his hands and brought home. Mother fed him from a bottle and named him Billy. He grew up to be a fine young buck, and even put on enough style to grow himself a diminutive pair of antlers. He would feed around the clearing most of the time with short excursions into the nearby woods but would come home for supper, often walking into the house in search of choice tidbits.
While Grace and George were residing in Bemidji, their first child, Florence Adella, was born Feb. 2-1901 in a small cottage which still stands at the corner of 8th St and Bemidji Ave., just back of the present Hospital building. In the late winter of 1901-02 they moved by team and sleigh to Northome, which at that time was called Phena, a distance of forty miles. The railroad did not commence carrying passengers that far until a year later. In October 1902 Grace returned to Deer Park where Emily Grace was born November 25-1902. Dr Legg had been called for the event but arrived on the scene six hours after the baby arrived.
In March 1903, Grace and George with their two babies moved by team and sleigh to Big Falls which was on the proposed route of the new railroad. This town was first called Ripple, but the local boosters decided that the place should amount to more than a mere ripple on the map, so had it renamed Big Falls. At Big Falls George filed on a homestead near Arthur’s, one and a half miles down the Big Fork River, where he built a log house, and they went there to live. Two years later they moved into town and occupied a house on the riverbank just below the falls.
A trail had been cut through the timber leading from a point near the Watson house, up along the south side of the falls or rapids the site of the present railroad bridge. This became a popular walk for sightseers, and lovelorn young men and women matrimonially inclined. Every spring when the log drives came down river, the continual booming and thumping of the logs as they rushed down the rapids and short drops, hitting the protruding rocks on both sides of the river as well as the bottom, became so monotonous for days and nights at a time, that when a temporary jam stopped the rush of logs and the commotion ceased, it would bring crowds of people down to watch the drivers as they worked to free the key logs that held the jam. When axe, peavy or saw would not do the work, a charge of dynamite would be tied on the end of a long pole with a long fuse attached. After the fuse was lit, the charge would be tucked deep down against the rocky bed of the stream directly under the seat of trouble, then the drivers would scamper for safety. All eyes would be fastened on the wisp of smoke playing over the foam and swirling water until the explosion occurred and big logs blown in pieces, or hurled bodily out of the water would fly in every direction and the whole mass would begin to move and the steady thumping and crashing of heavy timber against rock would commence again and continue until the next jam formed, perhaps 30 minutes later or a few hours or a day or so later.
At the head of the falls on the north side, lived old Dan Campbell, a white survivor of Indian times, stocky of build, grizzled, and nobody knew how old. He was full of information about bygone happenings in the locality, but the difficulty was to get him to talk about it. Some of the more recent “Old Timers” had gathered information from Dan as well as from other sources to the effect that Indians used to come from considerable distances each spring, for sturgeon fishing which lasted for a week or two each spring. The Indians would camp on the flats near the foot of the falls, where they would dry and smoke their catches, and even to this day, bits of decorated pottery and occasional flint implements are sometimes found on the same spot. On the crest of the hill to the north, overlooking the foot of the falls, is an ancient Indian mound, even Dan Campbell knew nothing of its history. It is now badly disfigured by curiosity hunters, but at the time Arthur arrived at Big Falls and for several years afterward this mound was still in its original shape, perfectly round, about ten feet high, and probably seventy or eighty feet in diameter, with trees of considerable size growing on it.
The sturgeon fishing which we have mentioned, was still good until many years after the railroad reached Big Falls when the Game and Fish laws became so strict that people did not dare catch the sturgeon. They varied in size from around 20 pounds to over 100 pounds and were considered a great delicacy on the table.
George was appointed U. S. Commissioner and had an office in Big Falls for several years, he also owned and published the Big Fork Compass for a time. It was while they were living on the homestead that Paul LaVerne was born April 5-1904.
Andrew who had been working for the Great Northern Ry. at Nickerson and Cass Lake since the summer of 1903, now went to Big Falls in January 1905 and most of the time from then until after the railroad was built into Big Falls he lived on his claim, working part of the time in town. He commenced working as a helper in the depot there soon after regular trains commenced running July 9-1906.
For several years Father had thought seriously of homesteading near Big Falls and had filed on a claim not far from Arthur’s. He made several trips there and lived for several months on his claim but finally decided the hardships were too great for mother and himself at their age so relinquished, and it was this claim which Andrew afterwards took up.
In the winter of 1904-05 Grace, who was needing some help about the house asked Lillian Felt who was living in Duluth, to come and stay with her for a while. Lillian accepted and arrived there in March, traveling like everyone else by team and sleigh from Northome. This was about as late as it would have been possible for her to make the trip on account of the lack of roads after the frost went out of the ground. While staying with the Watsons, Lillian became acquainted with Arthur, who often stopped at their place on his way to or from town. This acquaintanceship led to an engagement between them which resulted in their marriage the following year. In the fall of 1905 Lillian wished to return to Duluth to prepare for her coming wedding and decided to walk the distance to Northome as the roads were impassable for a team. Arthur accompanied her on this hike of some 32 miles. Their wedding took place July 2-1906 at her parents' home 425-42nd Ave. W. Duluth. Rev. S. G. Briggs officiating.
Shortly after their marriage they returned to Big Falls to make their home. Arthur built a four-room log house on the edge of the hill above Watsons place, where they lived for several years.
In December 1908 Arthur was appointed postmaster which position he held for many years. After his appointment they moved up town and lived upstairs in the post office building which he owned. Five children were born to them, Alice Lillian, born July 2-1907 died Sept. 21-1908, Evelyn Adella. born Aug. 5-1910, died Feb. 18-1911; Harriet Lucinda born Oct. 14-1912, Florence Caroline, born Sept, 27-1915 and Charlotte Eliza, born Oct 7-1917.
In the winter of 1907-08, Andrew went to Funkley Minn as agent for the M. &. I. Ry, and in 1910 was transferred to Blackduck as Station Agent. About this time, he became engaged to Lulu Felt, a younger sister of Lillian, Arthur’s wife. Both Lulu and Lillian had lived in the old Merritt Block in Oneota the winter we were there, so of course they both seemed like old friends of the family even before their engagements. Andrew and Lulu were married in 1910 at her parents' home in Duluth, in the same room Arthur and Lillian were married. The couple returned to Blackduck shortly after, where they made their home. On Feb. 29-1912, a daughter, Dorothy was born to them, but the young mother passed away four weeks later. Her body was laid away in the cemetery at Blackduck.
In the early spring of 1907 Walter went to Big Falls and worked for a few weeks for G. M. Huss who was construction engineer on the railroad extension being built from Big Falls to Koochiching, - afterwards renamed International Falls. Later he went to work in the M. &. I. depot as helper, leaving there in July 1908 to become ticket clerk and operator at International Falls, to which place the railroad had been completed the previous winter.
Aunt Lydia and Uncle Will again came west in the summer of 1907 stopping first at Deer Park then going to Big Falls, mother and Clara accompanying them to the latter place. Father stayed at home to take care of the stock and crops. Some of our old photographs of the time show Arthur, Andrew, Walter, Grace, George, Clara, Mother, and Aunt Lydia and Uncle Will, in what was supposed to represent a family brawl, with pop and ginger ale bottles being used as clubs and each one apparently telling the other what he thinks of him. In after times, Mother often when looking at the pictures pretended to be ashamed of her grown up children, and especially so of herself for indulging in such “goings on” but her smiles and chuckles would show very well that she enjoyed the hilarious time with the rest of us.
In 1908 Melvin and Bess left Askov Minn where he had been working for the G. N. Ry. and came to Northome, where he had secured the position of station agent. Two more children had been born to them, - Eugene, June 25-1903 and Stewart June 4-1905, making four children in all. They lived upstairs in the depot in living rooms suitable for the purpose and took a very active part in town and community life. In later years after the family had grown up, they bought a small farm about half a mile north of the depot, on the west side of the railroad track. All four children graduated from the Northome High School, Margaret later taking a course at Hamline University St. Paul and after her graduation there she taught school for several terms. Stewart graduated at Wisconsin University in Electrical Engineering and took up work with the Western Union Telegraph Company. Ernest engaged in the automobile business for many years, and Eugene took up farming.
During the school years of 1905 to 1909, Clara had been teaching school in Deer Park, making one or two trips to Big Falls during vacations, but spending most of the time with father and mother. In 1909 she secured a position at International Falls teaching school in what was then known as Holler’s Addition, about one and a quarter mile south of town. She taught there two winters, and during that time became acquainted with her future husband, Arnold Pfenninger. Arnold was a native of Switzerland, having been born at Zurich Jan 27-1884. He secured part of his education in Switzerland and part in Germany, coming to Wisconsin in 1904. Later he went to International Fal and held a position in the First National Bank there up to a short time before his marriage. He was always an active worker in Church and Sunday School and took a keen interest in civic affairs. Clara and Arnold were married at Big Falls Sept 6-1911, Rev. Chappell of International Falls officiating. Miss Ida Virginia Brown of Big Falls acted as bridesmaid, and Walter was best man. After spending a month at Wausau Wis. The newlyweds moved to Chicago where their first child Bertha was born Oct. 12-1912. Later they moved to Marinette Wis. It was there that Clara had an attack of appendicitis which nearly took her life. During Clara’s sickness in Marinett father and mother went to visit her, traveling by train via Duluth and Ashland. Somewhere between those two places the entire train was derailed and rolled over on its side. No one was hurt however, although the passengers had to stay there the rest of the day and night, farmers in the surrounding country bringing in food to relieve them.
After Clara’s recovery she and Arnold and Bertha moved to Hiles Wis. and later to Duluth Minn., where Arnold held a position as head bookkeeper and office manager of the Union Match Company. In 1927 he became auditor for the Duluth Community Fund, which position he held for many years. Their son Philip was born in Duluth Sept. 18-1921.
In February 1911, Walter went to Brainerd and worked one month as operator in the M. &. I. Dispatchers' office, after which he went west for a time, working for the S.P. &. S. Ry. at Kahlotus Wash, and also for the Postal Telegraph Company in San Francisco. Returning to Brainerd in June he worked until February 1912 when he became a train dispatcher in the same office for the M. &. I. Ry. On May 13-1913 he was married to Maud Mandery, also of Brainerd, whose home was five miles west of Royalton on the west bank of the Mississippi River, near the present Soo Line bridge. Rev Charles Fox Davis a former Brainerd pastor officiated at the wedding. Walter and Maud resided at 601-10th St. South and also at 819 Holly St. until 1915 when they moved into their own house just built at 109 Main St. Four children were born to them in Brainerd, Ralph Luverne April 2-1915, Bernice Lucile May 3-1918, Alice Caroline Jan. 31-1920, Kenneth Eugene Nov. 20-1926. Jan19-1929 they moved to Bemidji Minn on account of the Dispatchers office having been moved to that place. At Bemidji Frances Winnifred was born April 9-1930.
Since the family took up residence in Deer Park in 1895, father and mother had now put in twelve years of hard work and more or less privation, with very little to show for it in a material way. Of course, we never considered the value of life could be measured in dollars and cents, but at the same time, as the children grew up into young manhood and womanhood, they felt the necessity of getting out of the home nest in order to support themselves and help their aging parents financially more than they could do by remaining at home. Considerable clearing had been done on the various forties, a small herd of cows of an indifferent grade had been acquired. All the original log buildings including the house, were still being used and gradually falling into decay, with no prospects of our being able to afford better buildings. On the whole the future was not a bright one materially. Before going to Big Falls, both Andrew and Arthur had worked in Woodbury’s little sawmill several seasons. Clare secured a teacher’s certificate and taught school two miles northwest of Barnum, also at Deer Park and later at International Falls. Walter worked in the fall and winter of 1905 at Ekley’s sawmill, a small outfit on the Barnum Road one mile west of Cain’s Corner, and later went to work at Big Falls as already stated. The children always helped with the work when they came home and often sent home money when it appeared needed.
In 1909 our parents were persuaded to leave the old place and go to live with their children, where they could take life easier and could be better cared for. Accordingly, they sold the stock, rented the land and went to Big Falls in the spring of 1910 making their home for a time in Arthur’s log house on the brow of the hill overlooking the river. Watsons were still living at the foot of the hill, and everything possible was done to make the old folks comfortable and contented. They became much loved by the people of Big Falls, fathers' Christian character and dignified bearing making for him a place of respect wherever he went. Mother was highly thought of among the women and children about town, and many were the tokens of love they gave her. Her patience and Christian faith seemed to glow like a halo about her whitening hair. Father worked at odd jobs as he could find them, but usually they tired him, and he worried if he could not put in what he considered a full days work as in his earlier years. Sometimes they both went for extended visits to the rest of their children, in later years spending most of their time with Grace and George, or with Melvin and Bessie.
In the winter of 1910-11 Grace and George moved to Intl. Falls and resided at 914- 7th St. George was Editor of the Intl. Falls Press for a number of years and their children attended High School there. At that time International Falls was a typical “wide-open” town and George put up a continual fight against the wet element, with the natural result that he had many bitter enemies, as well as warm friends. In the early winter of 1916 his paper, The Press, was burned to the ground, not a thing being saved out of all his equipment. However, through the courtesy of the Fort Frances paper and also the “Intl. Falls Echo” published by Mr. Montgomery, George continued to publish his paper without missing an issue. He finally had the satisfaction of seeing the County vote dry, and justly felt that his efforts had no small part in bringing this about.
In May 1914 Andrew married Gladys Adell Morehouse at Blackduck. Gladys was born Sept. 23-1896 at Lamberton Minn. When ten years of age her people moved to Stanley N.D. or near where Sanish is now, where she lived until November 1913 when she went to Blackduck with a married sister. Shortly after she and Andrew were settled, Dorothy, who had been in her grandmother’s care at Duluth, came to her new home. Later six other children were born to Andrew and Gladys, - Duane Curtis, Nov.6th 1915, Adella Grace Feb. 18-1919, Gladys Elaine Oct. 18th, 1920, Margaret Ann Oct. 27, 1923, Marjorie May July 16th, 1925,
A few years after their marriage, Andrew commenced holding religious services in schoolhouses and private homes in the country surrounding Blackduck. He became very interested and successful in this work, preaching to all classes of people who cared to listen sometimes taking a group of people with him to furnish the music, sometimes taking another person to help give the message, but more often going alone in a truly missionary spirit. He also held services in his own home during the winter months when he had no means of getting out to the outlying country districts. This work was often carried on under the most difficult circumstances and with great discouragement, but the results accomplished made it apparent that there was much seed sown in good ground. Andrew continued in this good work and was the instrument through which the Gospel was brought into the hearts and lives of many who otherwise might never have received it.
In July 1916 a family camping party was organized for an outing up Rainy Lake. Arthur and Lillian and baby Harriett, Grace and George and their three children, Florence, Emily and Paul, and Maud and Walter and baby Ralph, all joined in the jollification. Each family contributed in furnishing homemade cookies, doughnuts, pies, cakes etc. and bought a large stock of groceries at International Falls then hired a launch to take them to a place called Blanket Bay, about 12 miles east of Ranier. In the excitement of getting all their equipment and children into the launch, everybody forgot the box of groceries which was left on the dock at International Falls and not missed until they neared their destination. They arranged with the boatman to have the box sent up the following day. Arrived at their destination they put up three tents, made fireplaces, improvised a table, etc. and made themselves generally comfortable. There were no settlers or cottages anywhere near, so everybody felt as though they were pretty much by themselves. However, the missing box of groceries did not arrive. A large boat running between Ranier and Kettle Falls every other day failed to stop on signal, and the party was too far away to go for the supplies themselves. Finally, a week had passed, and the party was down to very scant rations, consisting mostly of blueberries, fish, and the leftovers from the home cooking. One morning a man came down the lake in a very small motorboat. He was stopped as he was going to International Falls to return the next day, he was given a large order to bring back with him. How anxiously next morning everyone watched to see if at last they would have s chance to eat again. About 10 A.M. the little boat came into sight heaped high with groceries, a fire was hastily built and as soon as our hero landed, spuds were hastily peeled, bacon cut, cans opened, and dinner was served soon after. The party was soon again in high spirits as the bread and butter, bacon, potatoes, beans, corn and other items were attacked with a gusto that would hardly be appropriate at a dinner party in other surroundings. On the appointed day the launch returned to take the party back to International Falls. This trip, in spite of the week if slim fare and more or less worry, was one of the high spots in the family life for those who took part in it and has been recalled many times with the keenest pleasure.
In the spring of 1921, Melvin was taken sick with a threatened attack of pneumonia and was sent to the old Northern Pacific Hospital at Brainerd for treatment. As soon as he was able to be out again, he took an indefinite leave of absence, and went to Florida in the Fall of 1921 spending the winter with Aunt Lydia and Uncle Will at Orlando. While there he lived in a tent near their home and eventually made a complete recovery of his health. During his absence, Bessie continued as agent at Northome earning the money necessary to support the family and to make it possible for Melvin to take the only means of effecting a cure, - a complete rest. After his return Bessie continued as agent for the Ry. Co there and Melvin worked in the same place as operator, until the job was closed some years later.
In the night of Dec. 31, 1922, with the mercury far below zero, and a strong wind blowing a fire broke out in Big Falls only a few doors from Arthur's building, in which he and his family resided, as well as kept the post-office. They hastily dressed and with the help of neighbors carried everything they could save, including the piano, down the stairs and to a place of safety. Their building and many of their belongings were burned to the ground. A few months later Arthur rebuilt on the same site. In 1932 another fire broke out which took almost half of the town and burned so close to Arthur’s building that it very nearly burned too.
On Dec. 24-1918 we celebrated our Parents’ Golden Wedding Anniversary at Big Falls where they were living at the time. All of the children and grandchildren were present except Clara and her family who were detained on account of sickness. Father and mother were living at the time in Arthur’s little log house, and it was there the festivities centered. A group picture was taken of the entire party, and also one of the Anniversary cakes. In one of the group pictures, Clara’s picture taken soon after, was later inserted to make a composite photo of the entire family.
Lillians father and mother lived with she and Arthur several years before her parent's death. Her father had a light stroke which continued to develop until he was helpless and was taken to Duluth for better treatment and medical care. He died at his daughter and Florence’s home a year or so later. Lillian’s mother died at Big Falls in 1929.
Grace and George and their family moved to Faribault Minn January 1-1920 where George became editor of the Faribault Pilot, continuing in that work for several years, when he disposed of the paper and went into the real estate business in the same town. Their oldest daughter, Florence, married Waverly Christie of Faribault and at the present writing they have three children, Marion Emily born Feb. 3-1926, Curtis Waverly born Jan 15-1929, and Marjorie Florence, born Dec 19-1930. The second daughter Emily, married Arthur McKay of Delhi Minn. They have one child, Ronald Arthur born Sept. 11-1931.
Soon after the Watsons moved to Faribault, father and mother went there to live with them, where they continued until 1925 when they went to Northome. They sometimes visited the rest of the children for a while, but for the last year or two of their lives, seemed to consider Northome as their headquarters. They both passed away of the infirmities of old age. Mother died Oct. 11-1926. Her body was taken to Brainerd where the funeral was held in the Methodist church there, Rev. Blackhurst and old friend of the family and Rev. Evers officiating. Internment was made at Evergreen Cemetery in the south half of Lot 12 Block 2. Four sons, Melvin, Arthur, Andrew, and Walter, a grandson Ernest, and Freeman, Margaret’s husband, acted as pall bearers. Father died on Aug. 13-1928 and was laid beside mother to the south of her grave.
As the younger Paul generation is growing up, marrying, and their children coming into our world, this story would naturally become unwieldy and more or less confused if we were to attempt following out each branch of our family tree in detail. Perhaps it will be as well to draw it towards a close of this chapter by giving a short summary of the present location and activities of the different family members at this writing, then if our story so far seems worthwhile to any of our descendants, some of them will doubtless undertake to carry it on into the years to come through some branch or branches of our present family circle.
Melvin is at present working for the M. &. I. Ry as operator at Walker, Bessie is Agent at Northome, while Eugene is taking care of the family farm near Northome. Ernest and Evelyn, who since their marriage have lived at Northome, have now moved to Bemidji with their two children, Betty and Naomi, Ernest being engaged in the Insurance business. Margaret and Freeman and their children, Ira, Paul and Norman, are living on their farm one mile from Erskine Minn. Stewart and Blanche are in Chicago, Stewart being an electrical engineer for the Western union Telegraph Company. Arthur and Lillian and their children Harriett, Florence and Charlotte are living at Big Falls, Arthur being postmaster there.
Andrew and Gladys, and their children Dorothy, Duane, Adella, Elaine, Marjorie and Margaret are living in Blackduck where Andrew has been station agent for the M. &. I. Ry. since 1910.
Clara and Arnold reside at 4328 Dodge St. Duluth. Bertha teaches music and Philip goes to school. Arnold is Auditor for the Associated Charities of Duluth.
Grace and George are at Faribault, where George is engaged in the real-estate business, Paul sells insurance and is also in the real-estate business. Florence and Waverly and their children, Marion, Curtis and Marjorie are on their farm a few miles west of Faribault. Emily and Arthur and their boy Ronald are on Arthur’s farm near Delhi Minn.
Walter and Maud are living in Bemidji where they moved from Brainerd in January 1929. Their children Ralph, Bernice, Alice and Kenneth are attending the Bemidji schools, Frances being too young for school.
Transcribed by Kenneth E. Paul
Copyright © 2001, 2002 Kenneth E. Paul and Frances W. Prussner
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