Found in the Sault News picked up from Iron Mountain Gazette, 9/25/1901.
The following snake story comes from Pembine says the Iron Mountain Gazette: “Mr. McCormick, a foreman on the Soo railroad, and his crew were attacked by a swarm of snakes while digging out a culvert in the railroad, and Mr. McCormick and his six men fought the snakes for fully two hours. ‘We had to use shovels, iron bars and axes to conquer the reptiles,’ McCormack says there were over five hundred of them and the shortest one was three feet long. After the fight was over, the snakes were piled up like a log pile and burned. The snake oil ran from the fire like a flowing spring. The like was never before known in the north. ‘I have traveled the world half over and saw reptiles as thick as the hair on a dog’s back, but the like of this scene I never witnessed and do not expect to witness it again.'”
Blue Racer Snakes grow to three feet or more long.
Authors Note: I think the workers dug into a nest of Blue Racer snakes. They are common throughout Michigan and Wisconsin including the southern Upper Peninsula. Blue Racers commonly grow to lengths of three to six feet long. They are very fast and are non-venomous though they can act formidable.
For more information on Blue Racer Snakes, click here.
A rare photo of the Ropes Gold Mine near Negaunee. This was taken 1860s near its beginning.
Over the last couple of months, I’ve come across some really nice mining pictures. I thought I would post them up for everyone to check out. The picture above is of the Ropes Gold Mine which was located north of Negaunee and Ishpeming. The mine was established in 1881 by Julius Ropes and produced consistent quantities of gold until 1897. It was reopened for a few years in the 1980s. News of the Ropes opening prompted a gold rush to Ishpeming. Suddenly there was no less than 13 gold mines in the surrounding area all producing some gold and silver.
The Ohio Iron Mine
This is a picture of the crew of the Ohio Iron Mine near Michigamme.
The iron range of the Marquette region was full of iron mines. Dozens of them operated west of Marquette nearly the entire distance to L’Anse. The Ohio Mine was one of them and was west of Michigamme. It opened in 1907 and operated for 7 years. It produced low grade ore and wasn’t profitable. The picture shows the mining crew of the Ohio. No shortage of man power here. This has to be close to 1914 when the mine shut down. It was briefly reopened in the 1950s as an open pit mine by Cleveland Cliffs International (CCI).
New York Mine
This is the interior of the New York Iron Mine located near Ishpeming.
The New York Mine was a hematite operation. Beginning in 1864, the New York produced high grade hematite iron ore. Located in Ishpeming, it was part of the iron boom that fueled the entire region. It gave out in 1919. The New York lasted longer than many mining operations and provided the raw materials for the industrial revolution. The picture shows the interior of the New York Mine in its early days of 1870.
Lake Superior Iron Mine
A small iron mining operation. The location and name is unknown.
Iron mining was prevalent throughout the central and western Upper Peninsula. Small companies started up and then crashed as quickly while other companies flourished with the rich deposits iron. This picture shows one of those small operations. Labeled simply as “Lake Superior Iron Mining,” it is an unknown digging probably somewhere around Ishpeming or Negaunee. Though they are hard to see, there are four miners in the background of the photo. Piles of ore and the mine entrance can be clearly seen. Mining was rough, hard and dangerous work.
Victoria Copper Mine
Riding the Rock Skip. The mining company warned men against doing this and taking ladders instead, but it was a common practice anyway.
Victoria is a copper mining ghost town near Rockland. It can still be visited today. The Victoria Mine was notorious for its safety problems, injuries and death were common. The picture, “riding the skip cart,” shows one of the miners going down into the shaft doing something that was against company rules. It was simply quicker and a couple of fatalities resulted from this. Victoria mine operated for nearly 50 years and was a solid copper producer.
Blows Up While On Convoy Duty! The Coast Guard cutter Escanaba, shown here in Lake Michigan while she was on duty in those waters, sank after an explosion ripped her amidships while on convoy duty in the Atlantic, the navy announced in Washington Friday. 6/19/1943
I recently received the picture with the caption printed above about the Coast Guard Cutter Escanaba. After doing some research I found the story to be one of the lingering mysteries of World War II, the strange fate of the USS Escanaba.
There are countless stories of the bravery and daring of those in the U.S. Coast Guard. Their basic mission is to protect the boundary waters of the United States. Occasionally they get called away from that specific duty when the need presents itself. World War II was just such a time. The USS Escanaba was just such a ship.
Lake Michigan and World War II
The USS Escanaba spent most of its time patrolling the waters of Lake Michigan. It was built in Bay City by the Defoe Shipbuilding company. The Escanaba was intended for ice breaking, law enforcement, and maritime search and rescue. Its home port was Grand Haven, Michigan. At the time, Escanaba was one of the busiest ports on Lake Michigan and the ship was named in honor of that city. The Escanaba performed several rescues of ship’s crews in distress on Lake Michigan.
USS Escanaba ice breaking on Lake Michigan before WWII.
During World War II, convoys of ships carrying supplies and ammunition crossed the Atlantic regularly. Many ships were ordered to protect these convoys at all costs. The USS Escanaba was called out of the Great Lakes to accompany and protect the ships of the supply convoys.
During this time, the Germans were filling the waters of the Atlantic with what were known as the “Wolfpacks,” groups of submarines that were attacking and sinking most ships they came across that weren’t allied with the Nazis. They had no discretion whether they were civilian ships or military. They sank them both. The wolfpacks fed on convoys.
Greenland Patrol and the USS Dorchester
The USS Escanaba was assigned to what was known as the Greenland Patrol. They would escort convoy headed through the North Atlantic. The cutter had been refitted with weaponry in Boston, such as depth charges for combatting the U-2 submarines. The Escanaba claimed to have sunk 3 subs during its time on escort.
This painting by Robert Lavin depicts the Escanaba rescuing the survivors of the USS Dorchester.
Coast Guard ships are known for their daring rescues and the USS Escanaba did its part. In February of 1943, they rescued the survivors from the USS Dorchester. The Dorchester was the victim of a submarine torpedo and sank in the icy February water. Many of the survivors were so cold that they couldn’t hang onto ropes or pull themselves up a ladder. Members of the crew of the Escanaba became for the first time, rescue swimmers who went into the water themselves to pull survivors onboard! It is the first documented use of “rescue swimmers.” They wore special survival suits and tied debilitated victims to ropes to be pulled aboard. They rescued 133 people that day. Out of the 50 they initially thought were dead, only 12 died. The others revived when they got warm.
Many of them were awarded medals for their actions and the rubber suit retrieval method invented by one of the Escanaba’s crew members, Lt. Robert Prause Jr. gained praise and the method earned a permanent place in cold water rescues.
USS Escanaba Mystery
Unfortunately, on June 10th, that same year, the USS Escanaba was blown to pieces. The ship was escorting another convoy in the North Atlantic when it suddenly burst into a ball of fire. It happened so fast, that they bever got off a distress signal. In a moment, the ship and crew were gone. Other ships in the convoy that saw it said that there was no sound. First ships arrived on the scene within 10 minutes. Only two survivors were found and one dead, the aforementioned Lt. Prause Jr. (It could be said that Lt. Prause posthumously went on to save countless lives with his cold-water suit invention.) The only reason the two survived is that their clothing had frozen to floating debris and prevented them from sinking to the bottom like the rest of their crew mates. 13 officers and 92 crewmen died that day.
Some of the crewmen from the USS Escanaba near the time of the explosion. Heroes all.
Theories
No one knows what caused the USS Escanaba to explode. Naturally, the predominant theory is that it was a victim of a German submarine. But, none were found in the area and torpedo explosions make a lot of noise. Another theory is that it hit an underwater mine. Thousands of these were used in World War II. The last theory is that something went wrong with the ship itself. The possibility that something happened on board that caused an accident could have happened since they had different kinds of explosives aboard such as depth charges.
Whatever happened, it remains a mystery and probably always will. The 105 heroes that went down with the Escanaba will always be remembered for their valiant efforts to help people and save lives.
This is a bird’s eye view of Calumet during its heyday.
A Capitol Decision
During the Year, I make quite a few personal appearances at events. I enjoy talking to people and I’m often asked historical questions. Over the years many erroneous stories about the Upper Peninsula have circulated and somehow stuck becoming U.P. myths. One of these stories I hear frequently, is that Calumet was once considered for Michigan’s Capitol. It was not.
In 1847, when the capitol was designated in Lansing, the village that would become Calumet, Red Jacket, didn’t exist yet. The capitol was moved from Detroit because of a fear of military capture. Detroit, the current capitol, was taken by the British in the war of 1812. Some feared it could happen again.
Since Detroit laid on the border of Canada, it was decided that maybe a more central location in the state was advisable. Also growing settlements on the west side of Michigan was pushing for a closer location. Candidates were Ann Arbor, Grand Rapids, Marshall, and Jackson. Lansing was picked because it was central to all of them, the Lansing area was nearly uninhabited at the time. So was the Upper Peninsula except for the Native Americans.
Calumet Wasn’t Born Yet
A couple from Red Jacket taken in the late 1800s.
Mineral rights were achieved in the U.P. with a treaty in 1843 with central and western Upper Peninsula Native Americans for mineral rights within those regions. This heralded the beginning of the copper boom.
Founded on the rising tide of copper mining, the city that would become Calumet, Red Jacket, became officially a town in 1864, almost 20 years after the capitol was chosen. It’s twin city Laurium, was originally called Calumet. Confusing I know. It became Laurium in 1895, and Red Jacket became Calumet in 1929. Though copper was being unearthed in the Keweenaw, its production was hindered until 1855 when the Soo Locks were opened. Settlements across the peninsula were few and far between until the 1850s. Again, all taking place after the capitol was moved to Lansing. At that time Calumet was but a glimmer in history’s eye.
The final cover for my new book, Piracy on the Great Lakes – True Tales of Freshwater Pirates.
I’ve been very anxious for this book to come out. This seems to be a subject very few people seem to know about. Ever since I discovered Dan Seavey, the Escanaba pirate, (some of his story is in True Tales) I’ve been working to discover more of these rogues that plagued the waters of the Great Lakes. I found several more and realized piracy was much more prevalent on the lakes than I thought.
Of course, much of the piracy, we don’t know since the very nature of piracy is to not be discovered. As I say in the book, “No witnesses are the best witnesses.” But the ones I found were amazing characters, rough and tumble, ruthless and cunning. This is not a long book, 74 pages, but it is packed with historical tales of the freshwater pirates. I’m very pleased with this book and I hope everyone else will enjoy it as well. Aye, keep a weather eye out. There be pirates about.
The link below is to a podcast I did with MLive on Great Lakes Piracy. It begins with a brief introduction at the Boyne City Pirate Festival. I’m interviewed following that. It was a fun talk.
Waiting in the night, hidden behind a remote island, no lights showing, pirates would lure unsuspecting ships into unknown waters. Then they would silently slide up to them and board the ship. The crew would be killed and the bodies thrown over the side, weighted down with chains. The pirates would take the cargo, sink or burn the ship, and then, just as quietly, sail away into the night. Dead men tell no tales, nor do they testify in court.
Forget everything you’ve learned about pirates from Johnny Depp films. Instead of chasing down ships laden with gold, the Great Lakes pirates were after commodities. There were fur pirates, timber pirates, religious pirates, and inept pirates. Just about anything that could be sold fell prey to pirates. Cargos could be stolen and then sold at the next port. On the Great Lakes, piracy was easy.
Reviews for Piracy on the Great Lakes, True Tales of Freshwater Pirates
“Loaded with rare period photos and engravings of the infamous pirates who wreaked havoc in Great Lakes waters and shore communities, Classen’s inviting narrative is fast-paced and filled with legends of treasures and daring exploits.” -Sue Harrison, international best-selling historical novelist
“Piracy on the Great Lakes is a swashbuckling treat and fascinating addition to Great Lakes lore. Historical vignettes filled with fur traders, religious extremists, and Civil War opponents bring it to life. You’ll be surprised, entertained, and enlightened by the tales of high adventure that await you in these pages.” – Tyler R. Tichelaar, PhD, award-winning author of The Mysteries of Marquette
“Replete with hair-raising tales of black-sailed ships, desperate and bloody conquests, frontier politics, revenge, and retribution, Mikel Classen’s Piracy on the Great Lakes paints a vivid picture of piracy’s social and economic role in America’s adolescence. Classen contextualizes the broad strokes of the Civil War, the late stages of the fur trade, and the timber market with anecdotes of personal detail that are often far stranger than fiction.” – J.D. Austin, author of The Last Huck
“I learned a lot about the Great Lakes and was impressed by the extensive research Mikel B. Classen must have done. He has packed a lot of information into less than 100 pages. I would recommend it to anyone seeking a good read about our Great Lakes.” – Larry Jorgensen, author of Shipwrecked and Rescued
The cover for Piracy on the Great Lakes, available soon.
Coming Soon! Piracy on the Great Lakes, True Tales of Freshwater Pirates
My newest book project is on the horizon and you probably should beware, it’s pirates! Lock up your ladies and hide your valuables. These pirates will loot anything that isn’t tied down and some that is. Piracy on the Great Lakes was quite prevalent. Though most think of Pirates in the Carribean, pirates also sailed the Great Lakes. William Johnson, James Strang, and Dan Seavey were all well documented freshwater pirates. Their exploits are well documented and often stranger than fiction. This is a book I really enjoyed putting together and I’m hoping others will enjoy reading. Publishing soon through Modern History Press, this is a must have for history fans.
An Excerpt from the Book
“Piracy is something that has always been with us. In the Great Lakes, piracy was different than the glorified, Hollywood, Pirates of the Caribbean. There was no Aztec gold heading back to Spain on armadas. But there were pirates just the same.
Instead of chasing down ships laden with gold, the Great Lakes pirates were after commodities. There were fur pirates, timber pirates, religious pirates and inept pirates. Just about anything that could be sold, fell prey to pirates. Though there was no Spanish gold, there was loot to be had. Payrolls were shipped and moneys for banks and treasuries were consigned. Cargos could be stolen and then sold at the next port.
Waiting in the night, hidden behind a remote island, no lights showing, pirates would lure unsuspecting ships into unknown waters. Then silently slide up to them and board the ship. The crew would be killed and the bodies thrown over the side, weighted down with chains. The pirates would take the cargo, sink or burn the ship, and then just as quietly, sail away into the night. Dead men tell no tales, nor do they testify in court.
Ships and crews disappeared into oblivion on the Great Lakes. Much of it was attributed to storms but pirates also roamed these waters and many of the ships were lost due to pirate raids. These weren’t the swashbucklers of film, but men who used guns, knives and were brawlers and drinkers roaming the fresh waters of a lawless frontier. Though specific incidents and stories are lost to time, others are not as is presented here. This is but the surface of a much larger world of piracy that lived throughout the Great Lakes.”
Book cover for my book Old Victoria, A Copper Country Ghost Town
Today, I received a review on my newest book, Old Victoria, the first of the Yooper History Hunter series. It was reviewed by Tom Powers for Michigan in Books. I’m happy about this as the book is small at about 30 pages long. It is meant to be as much of a field guide as it is a book about the history of Victoria. A map in the interior, expertly drawn by Joanna Walitalo, shows the locations and names of the buildings and other points of interest so the reader/explorer can hunt down the history of Victoria ghost town.
Here’s the review: Old Victoria: A Copper Mining Ghost Town in Ontonagon County by Mikel B. Classen
This is the first volume in the Yooper History Hunter Series in which each installment will explore the history of a specific, and often overlooked aspect or subject of U.P. history. Based on the first in the series, each volume will be composed of numerous historic photographs interspersed with contemporary, full-color images that compliment a precise, fact-fill historical narrative that is fascinating without wasting a word.
The author couldn’t have chosen a more interesting subject for the inaugural volume than the ghost town of Victoria. In spite of being listed in the National Register of Historic Places it is probably one of the fewest visited or even generally known historic sites in the Ontonagon area. The village rests atop a mountain within the spectacular Ontonagon River Gorge in the rugged Gogebic Mineral Range. The last couple of miles to the village is up a bone-jarring rock-strewn road. To call Victoria remote is a grand understatement.
Copper was discovered here in the 1600s but for 200 years it couldn’t be profitably mined. Then came Thomas Hooper who built a Taylor Hydraulic Air Compressor by digging three 400-feet-deep shafts into which the Ontonagon River and air were directed. The result (somehow) was compressed air that powered the entire mining operation and even a locomotive powered by compressed air. Mining became profitable, the village grew and prospered. The author covers working conditions (one in seven miners died in the mine) and the social and living conditions in the village. The mine closed in 1917. The village emptied, and the buildings fell victim to time and neglect until the Society for the Restoration of Old Victoria was founded and began restoring the village. This is a pure and highly polished nugget of Michigan history.
A schooner barge is being loaded up with cargo at the Escanaba, Michigan coal dock.
Historical Photos – Escanaba, Michigan – Lake Michigan’s Northern Port.
Escanaba was founded as a northern port city in 1863. It established itself as a link to the Marquette Range iron ore. Iron was shipped from Marquette by railroad to Escanaba. The route saved time shipping from Marquette through the recently established Soo Locks and then downbound through the St. Mary’s into the upper Great Lakes. During the Civil War, this became a main supply point for the union army thirsty for iron ore to produce weapons and ammunition.
An unidentified man sits along the edge of the Escanaba River near one of the local rock formations.
Escanaba was founded upon an early Ojibwa village. The name “Escanaba” came from an Anishinaabe word meaning “Land of the Red Buck.” It is easy to understand why a tribe would have settled there with the large bay, the Escanaba River providing an abundance of fish. The bays De Noc (Big and little) are a reference to the tribe of Noquet that flourished there.
From the beginning, Escanaba thrived as a port and as a city. It’s strategic importance for shipping and commerce can’t be understated. As mining increased across the U.P. with mines opening in Iron Mountain, Iron River and Crystal Falls, all began shipping their ore out of Escanaba.
Added to this, the logging boom began. The timber resources from the surrounding area were rich. Like other parts of the U.P, the timber of the west end was thick and ripe for harvesting. The Escanaba River was a perfect artery for floating the logs to Lake Michigan.
The Sand Point Lighthouse in Escanaba was essential for shipping and marking the port in bad weather.
With the fast growing shipping, it was deemed necessary that a lighthouse should be placed in Escanaba. The Sand Point Lighthouse has shown since 1868 and it was lit by a woman. It warned mariners of a sand bar that was at the entrance to Escanaba Harbor. Construction began on Sand Point in 1864 and the first lightkeeper was named John Terry. He oversaw the construction and prepared the lighthouse for occupation along with his wife, Mary. Just before the light was supposed to be lit, John Terry died. Sand Point was scheduled to begin its beacon on May 13, 1868. Mary Terry made sure that happened and took over for her husband. She was officially appointed lightkeeper making her one of the very first women lightkeepers on the Great Lakes. Mary would serve until 1888 when she was killed in a freak fire in the lighthouse. Mrs. Terry would become one of several women who would faithfully serve in the Lighthouse Service.
A street view of Escanaba with the trolley running down the middle of Ludington Street.
Escanaba grew to over 3,000 in the 1880’s. The population has grown to over 15,000 at its peak and is around 12,000 today. It remains a thriving community and is one of the Upper Peninsula’s larger cities. It is still an active port. At one time, the docks of Escanaba were frequented by a pirate named “roaring” Captain Dan Seavey. He would raid ships and then sell the captured cargo wherever he could. (More on Dan Seavey)
Out for an afternoon drive in Escanaba. The people are unidentified.
The picture above is for a personalized postcard sent in 1917 taken in Escanaba. They had this picture taken to show off their new automobile. It was a new thing then and it appears they bought the best one they could find. Scarves are wrapped, the top is down and a cruise along Bay de Noc is warranted. There are no names on this to identify anyone other than the person it was sent to in Detroit.
Smelting is an early season sport. Thousands of the fish would run up the streams every spring. These ladies are all ready to scoop them out.
Though Escanaba is a working town, the Paper mill and a college keeps the city thriving. It is also a tourist destination with legendary fishing in Lake Michigan, local lakes and streams. There is a place for any kind of outdoor recreation no matter what the preference.
A dog sled race in Downtown Escanaba breaks up a long winter with some fun.
Even winter has its appeal here. Though wind coming off Lake Michigan can be brutal, winter activities are a part of the culture. Skiing, sledding, and ice fishing on Bay de Noc have been an ingrained part of the culture.
A historical photo of the Tilden House boarding house. It no longer stands.
Escanaba has had an eventful history and continues forward into the future of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
This is a postcard from around 1900 of the Aurora Mine shaft F in Ironwood, MI.
Time to take a journey, a small look back at Ironwood in its heyday. Built on the Michigan / Wisconsin border in 1885, the area became known for its rich deposits of iron on what became known as the Gogebic Range. Mines sprang up all around Ironwood including the Norrie, Aurora, Ashland, Newport, and Pabst. Mining is not without its hazards.
Miners heading down deep into the mine shafts. They rode down sometime to nearly a mile underground. It could drop as fast as 1000 feet per minute.
In September of 1929, after unusually heavy rains, a portion of the Pabst Mine collapsed trapping 40 men. 3 men were killed when an elevator snapped, causing a rock collapse which trapped the others. A massive rescue operation began immediately. The only nourishment they had after their workday lunch ran out, was tea they made from birch bark scraped from the wooden planks lining the mine walls and heated with the miners’ carbide lamps. For five days they waited, while those on the surface frantically worked to reach the trapped miners. When they finally did, all of them were still alive. Over 5,000 residents gathered to watch the lucky miners emerge from the mine.
This picture is of an Ironwood leatherhead football player. The only name I have for him is Ben.
Ironwood has always been a strong community. There are a large number of churches and always saw itself as an upright community, unlike its twin city on the Wisconsin side of the border, Hurley. The two towns are separated by the border and the Montreal River. In its early days Hurley was a dangerous town to be in, 60 saloons in one block, could lead to disaster at any time. Ironwood prided itself in being the opposite. Somehow the rough elements seemed to stay on the Wisconsin side of the river.
Ironwood had organized sports and schools that provided top notch educations. North Ironwood is the home of Gogebic Community College. Ironwood’s Luther Wright high school would the first built and to this day, the old high school is still educating an enrollment of 600 students.
Early postcard view of Suffolk Street in Ironwood.
Because of the high producing iron mines, Ironwood was a prosperous town. Ironwood got its name, not because of the tree (Ironwood), but was named after one of the mining captains, James Wood. His nickname was “Iron”, so he was called Iron Wood. Many of Ironwood’s original buildings still stand and the remnants of the iron days stand as relics to its past. A tour around town can reveal many sites of Ironwood’s iron days of yore. It is a still thriving community that takes pride in its history.
Portrait of unknown group of gentlemen in late 1800s. They seem dressed for an evening on the town.
For more information on Ironwood, check out these links.
Alexandria Code Review and Special Deal on Best Seller
The cover art for the novel the Alexandria Code, an Isabella Carter Mystery, by Mikel B. Classen, now available.
My new book, the Alexandria Code, an Isabella Carter Adventure, has received a wonderful review that really reflects the essence of the book.
“Excitement from page one! I had a difficult time each time I had to stop reading for real life events. I would have wanted to just read straight through otherwise. Complicated plot includes hit men, college grad students, history, and archaeology. Who knew archeology could be a deadly occupation? A greedy person is behind all the problems, and he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. A professor just wants to solve the mystery. It all works together with twists and turns that had my heart pounding by the end. I learned some facts through the story as characters spoke. A good deal of realistic fantasy kept it so interesting. Well written! Highly recommend!. – Carolyn Wilhelm.
Also this month we are running a special deal on my best selling book, True Tales, the Forgotten History of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Click on the special link, and get $4.00 off the cover price of $18.95. It’s a great deal and you will only find it here. SPECIAL LINK!
Here’s a review of True Tales. “Wow! The further I read, the more fascinated I became–not only with the history of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (where I have lived most of my life), but with the talent and wisdom author Mikel B. Classen brings to his work. I’m in awe of Classen’s meticulous research, by the fine rhythmic voice he chose to tell his stories, and the characters he portrays so fully and well. This book has earned a permanent place in my library and will be tucked under our Christmas tree this year, a gift that I know will delight the readers in my family. Congrats, Mikel, you’ve done some very fine work here!” – Sue Harrison
Historical Pictures of Native Americans from the Lake Superior Region
This picture of a family building a canoe is labeled from Lac Du Flambeau.
An essential part of my Historical Pictures Collection is to acquire images of our regional Native Americans. It is not an easy task. Doing this requires forgetting about borders and looking at the area regionally more from a Great Lakes perspective. In researching the Upper Peninsula’s Native American past, it is important to realize that through the resultant acts of treaties, many of the original indigenous families and tribes were relocated. The Natives from the Keweenaw Peninsula were relocated at Baraga. The tribes from the western U.P. were sent to Wisconsin to places like the Bad River and Lac Du Flambeau. The Lac Du Flambeau Band of Lake Superior Chippewa says it all in the name.
This is an Ojibwa family from somewhere near Lake Superior. The picture doesn’t give an actual location.
The Ojibwa travelled Lake Superior & Lake Michigan without thought of Canada or U.S., whether it was Michigan, Wisconsin or Minnesota, it is all the same. Everything was tied together by the water and unbroken land.
This is an Ojibwa Chief named Kegadesa. The picture is mis-identified often.
Ojibwa villages dotted the shores of the Upper Great Lakes. Their canoes plied the waters and the campfires lit the night. It was a region of abundance where living off the land and water was possible.
The rare picture of the Native American village on Grand Island.
As I collect these images of native Americans, I try my best to identify the people and locations, but it is in many cases an impossible task. Their names were allowed to disappear into an unrecoverable past. The importance of their lives, culture, and religion, in most cases, was removed from the history books.
Native Americans fishing on the Canadian side of the St. Mary’s River. The Sault tribes were as one when they drew the border to Canada between them.
For more information on Lake Superior Native Americans:
Below is an entry from the book Yooper Ale Trails and the text is by Jon Stott. (Used with permission.) Read on or listen to the audiobook segment available from Audible.com or iTunes
Hereford and Hops, a historical landmark in the city of Escanaba.
One of the Escanaba area’s finest, Hereford and Hops is the first brewery to start brewing in the Upper Peninsula and the first to have “grill your own steak” capabilities. It is housed in an old building that used to be Escanaba’s busiest hotel with 80 rooms! This old building was known to have served bootleggers and gangsters during prohibition. There was even a speakeasy in the basement! Though it is currently closed, the speakeasy still exists in the basement of the old building. A flood in 2020 caused so much damage that they are still working to get it back to usable standards. Located not far from the waterfront, it would have been easy to smuggle booze in.
Originally the Delta Hotel, built in 1912, finished in 1914, it was intended to be the grandest hotel Escanaba could offer. At a cost of $100,000 (2.75 million today), it was constructed with that aim in mind. At the time though there more than 35 hotels and rooming houses already in town, it was felt that a truly grand place was needed, something with more than 30 rooms and a place that would redefine Escanaba’s sky line. It became exactly that. It was the tallest building in town at five stories. William McKinley, a Speaker of the Illinois Assembly at the time, attended the Grand Opening. It became the place to be for the wealthy and elite in Escanaba.
The Delta Hotel around 1917 after it first opened in Escanaba, Michigan. Notice the old cars around the building.
In 1930, the hotel changed hands to C.J. Burns. He established a bar and lounge in the basement called C.J.’s. This was right after prohibition was declared making this one of the few speakeasys, to survive to this day. (Though currently closed due to damages, they hope to get it up and running once again.) People came from all over the world to the hotel including cruise passengers, industrial moguls, and gangsters. Al Capone’s fingers stretched well into the U.P. and supplied some of C.J.’s booze. There is a tradition of alcohol here that goes back 100 years.
There is an interesting story that in the early days, Colonel Sanders sold his chicken recipe to the Delta. Before Sanders began KFC, as we know it today, he tried to sell his recipe for chicken to restaurants around the country. There was no thought to restaurant chains then, only selling his special recipe. At one time, and the document has disappeared, there was a copy of the agreement between Sanders and the hotel restaurant. It supposedly featured an early picture of Sanders on the contract and his signature giving them permission to use it. As the tale goes, the restaurant was the only one around to have that recipe at the time.
Now, with the brewpub, the tradition continues, but with a much quieter and relaxing atmosphere. H&H revels in its historic past, now on the register of National Historical Places. Historical pictures and artifacts adorn the walls. Though its focus is Beef and Beer, their menu is extensive. The Elk Burger is awesome. Going to Hereford and Hops is a step back into time when Escanaba was flourishing and grand style was in fashion. It is not just about great food and beer, it is also about the history within these walls that still speak if you listen hard enough.
Text below by Jon Stott.
The bar at Hereford and Hops in Escanaba surrounds itself with its and Escanaba’s history.
It was a ten-minute drive along M-35—past the end of the airport runway, the Escanaba golf course, the public and Catholic high schools to Ludington Avenue, Escanaba’s main street, and then east along Ludington—to the next stop on this ale trail: a building of double historical importance. Built in 1914 as a luxury hotel, the Delta Hotel is on the National Register of Historic Places and is home to Hereford & Hops Steakhouse and Brewpub, the Upper Peninsula’s first craft brewery. Since the late 1990s, I’d been enjoying lunch here during my annual day trips to the city known as the center of the UP’s “banana belt.” On one of my visits, I’d sampled my first Upper Peninsula version of Kolsch, a German-style beer that was relatively unknown across the United States at that time but has since become very popular among craft beer drinkers.
I first met the owner of Hereford & Hops, the late Don Moody, in 2017, when I arrived to do an interview with brewer Mike Sattem. Mike was brewing and while we were waiting, Don showed me around the brewpub, which occupies most of the first floor of the building (the upper floors house apartments). At the front was the seven-barrel brewhouse, visible behind the floor-to-ceiling plate glass panels that formed one of the walls beside an elegant, full-service bar. Next to the bar was a cozy pub area that had a pool table, oversized easy chairs and a sofa, a gas fireplace, and, above it, one of the establishment’s four TVs. A formal dining room, featuring tables set with white cloths and a fully-restored player grand piano, was behind the pub area, and, next to it, a large grill where patrons could cook their own steaks. Past the grill was a room nicknamed “The Other Grill,” a Mongolian grill where patrons filled bowls with ingredients that would be handed to a chef to be grilled.
Grill your own steak is one of the things Hereford and Hops is known for. The beef is locally raised.
Many years ago, Don, a native of Kankakee, Illinois, and his wife and young family spent summers in Rock, a small community north of Escanaba. “We had a small farm. I decided to raise Hereford cattle at the farm, and we moved to the UP permanently.” He and a neighbor purchased the Delta Hotel building and, when, in 1992, the Michigan Government changed its liquor laws to allow brewpubs, they decided to build one. He also took a crash course in brewing. In the months after the December 1994 opening, the idea of grilling your own steak and drinking beer brewed on premises became so popular that there were lineups of people waiting to get in: locals, day-trippers from as far away as Marquette and Green Bay, and, in the summer, tourists, including an increasing number of beer tourists.
The back dining room at H&H. The windows throw a blue cast in the room in the day. Beautiful area.
One of the people who had worked on the renovations of the Delta Hotel in the early 1990 was Mike Sattem, a recent high school graduate. “I never thought it would happen,” he said as he joined Don Mooney and me in the dining room. “Now here we are, twenty-five years later, two people who’d had no experience brewing, an owner and a head brewer.” After Hereford & Hops had opened, Mike began hanging around John Malchow, who’d taken over from Moody as the brewer, picking up as much information he could about the brewing process. He apprenticed in the brewery of a sister restaurant in Wausau, Wisconsin and was part of the brewing team that won three World Beer Cup and two Great American Beer Festival medals. When Malchow moved on, Mike returned to Escanaba and has been there since, making him, along with Derek “Chumley” Anderson of Vierling Restaurant and Marquette Harbor Brewery and Lark Ludlow of Tahquamenon Falls Brewery, the longest-serving brewers in the UP.
Brewing beer is a fine art. This is the brewing equipment room at H&H.
click on image for audiobook
When I met Mike Sattem again in 2022, the beer list included many of the styles I recognized from my earlier visits. There had been some changes, Mike noted. He now often brewed lesser-known styles, including the growingly popular sour beers, which he said he stored in a different part of the brewery’s basement to prevent any contamination. He also has lowered the alcohol percentage of most of the beers as patrons’ tastes evolved. “Most people enjoy something that complements their food, not something over the top.” But he also noted that as people’s familiarity with craft beers evolved, they were more accepting of hoppy beers.
“When we started out, we developed Whitetail as a gentle beer, but people thought it was too hoppy.” Whitetail Golden Ale (ABV 4.7 percent) is one of Hereford & Hops’ flagship beers. A gold medal winner at the World Beer Cup, it has a light-to-medium malt body and a crisp hop finish that has earthy, pine, and citrus notes. Another beer designed for novice drinkers of craft beer is the very low ABV Bluegrass Wheat Ale (ABV 3.1 percent), a blueberry-flavored ale that uses lemongrass instead of hops. This unusual ingredient provides ginger and lemon flavors that balance the fairly unassertive two-row barley and wheat malts and complement the hint of blueberries.
This is the main lounge/bar dining area. It even has a pool table.
Cleary Irish Red Ale (ABV 4.8 percent), winner of a Great American Beer Festival bronze medal, and Blackbird Oatmeal Stout (ABV 6.1 percent), winner of a World Beer Cup bronze, are two of Hereford & Hops darker brews. Cleary Red is a medium-bodied amber given a malty sweetness by the caramel malts and touch of candy apple-flavoring. The stout is a medium- to full-bodied version of the style given a silky, creamy texture by the oats, and roasted and coffee notes by the dark malts. Redemption IPA originally started at 5.5 percent ABV, but, Sattem told me, “I gradually ramped up the ABV to 7.5 percent as people’s palates developed. Medium-to full-bodied, it has an array of hops, including Simcoe, Cascade, and Amarillo, that contribute citrus, earthy, piney, spicy, and floral notes to complement the malty backbone. The Kolsch (no ABV available) is light-bodied, crisp, and clean-finishing. It follows the German recipe as closely as possible and is a refreshing, almost lager-like drink.
It’s not just a burger, It’s an Elk Burger with serious onion rings. Nothing mundane at Hereford and Hops. Great Food.
I’d visited the brewhouse on my previous trip, but asked Mike if we could tour it again. “I’ve just finished cleaning everything, including the windows. People are much more worried,” he added, “if all the equipment isn’t clean, the beer will be no good.” Between the mash tun and brew kettle hung a sign that I remembered from my earlier visit. “Blessed is the mother who gives birth to a brewer.” Mike laughed and told me that, although his mother is proud of him, she doesn’t drink any alcohol. I remarked that I was sure that many, many of the people who had enjoyed his beer had probably blessed her.
UPDATE: The Hereford and Hops changed hands in July of 2024. Though they plan to continue as always, it will be interesting to see how the place evolves with new owners.
CJ’s Lounge, the one-time Speakeasy, is closed because of flood damage. It could take years to repair.
For more information like this, please check out our book “Yooper Ale Trails” by Mikel B. Classen and Jon C. Stott.
Book reviews of my new book: Faces, Places & Days Gone By – A Pictorial History of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula
This is the cover for Mikel B Classen’s new book Faces Places and Days Gone By featuring vintage Harley Davidson.
From the Lansing State Journal and Detroit Free Press.
“Faces, Places and Days Gone By” ($19.95 paperback, $34.95 hardcover) written by Mikel B. Classen, managing editor of “The U.P. Reader,” is an oversized volume that’s full of great, highly detailed vintage images, accompanied by excellent descriptions.
Subtitled “A Pictorial History of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula,” it’s divided into nine sections, including homesteading, logging, mining, ships and shipping, Native Americans and recreation.
A View of the Huron River from Big Eric’s Bridge. The spelling of “Erick” is incorrect.The “k” belongs in his last name not his first.
Big Eric’s Bridge – Huron River – Baraga County
A Point North
By Mikel B. Classen
The Wild and Scenic Huron River in the Spring is an exceptional time to be there.
Over the weekend I traveled over to L’anse to sell and sign books at the American Legion hall. While I was in the neighborhood I decided to drive north towards Aura and Skanee. My ultimate objective was to reach a wondrous remote place known as Big Eric’s Bridge.
This is an area I rarely get into, but this region of north country leads into the west end of the Huron Mountains. Between here and Big Bay is Michigan’s wilderness at its best. The problem with it is much of it is owned the legendary Huron Mountain Club. But what isn’t owned by them is worth the effort to experience what you can.
This is one of the couple of small falls that make up the river near the Big Eric’s Bridge State Forest Campground
Big Eric’s Bridge crosses the wild Huron River which contains 37 species of fish. Fishing here is amazing with trout the primary fish in the river. This is an anglers paradise and a pristine river.
As I pull in and hear the water rushing in the river, I feel like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. Maybe Big Eric took some of the load. He seemed like that kind of guy. Yes, the bridge is named after a real person. There are some local stories but overall, not much is known about the guy.
The Huron River’s rugged and wild waters tumble over cascades along its winding path.
Big Eric Erickson
Big Eric Erickson was a large Swede from Skanee, his birthplace and date are unknown. He spoke with a thick Swedish accent that could sometimes be the butt of a joke. Erickson took it well. Logging for the Ford Motor Company, Big Eric earned the moniker of Paul Bunyan of Baraga County. Ford had a factory in Pequaming that manufactured parts for the fast growing automobile industry. Ford also had a sawmill in L’anse where Big Eric sold most of his wood.
Eric Erickson was over 6 feet tall and an even tempered individual. He was well liked and had an interesting way of looking at the world. In Richard Dorson’s, Bloodstoppers and Bearwalkers, he describes Erickson like this: “He’s happy when losing money and grumbling when making it, if you meet him in the woods where he’s boss, he’s dressed up in oxfords, dress pants and a silk shirt. In town he dresses like a lumberjack, very ragged.”
Big Eric’s logging camp around the 1920s. This would have been cold work. Photo courtesy Baraga County Historical Society.
Another tale surrounding Big Eric. He was checking out his cook’s food list. He came to loganberries. “Logging Berries – dat’s fine – order a carload of them.” He then came to New England Ham and crossed it out. “Isn’t American ham good enough for dese damn lumberjacks?”
He was known for helping people out when they needed it and was shrewd with his businesses. Eric was good to his workers often helping them when trouble reared its head. When Prohibition hit, Big Eric wasn’t affected much except for the behavior of his workmen.
The original Big Eric’s Bridge in 1930. The current one was built in 1992. Notice that the woman is using a fresh cut sapling for a fishing pole. Photo courtesy of the Baraga County Historical Society.
One day his men all left for a speakeasy or “blind pig” as they were called, and didn’t return. After a few days, Big Eric went to the illegal saloon and with true sorrow etched on his face, asked the bartender, “Can you let me have these men for a few days?” He got his workmen back.
Later in life, he mused about owning a hotel where the only guests would be lumberjacks. Big Eric moved to Houghton and that’s the last we hear from him. The bridge that bears his name is a reminder of his legacy in the region. A finer place was never picked that bears his name.
Big Eric’s Bridge State Forest Campground
Marsh Marigold (Caltha palustris) grow along the river bank. They are one of the first to bloom in the spring.
As I wander along the banks of the river taking photographs, one can’t help but feel the energy of the rushing water. It is spring and everything is coming to life. The leaves of the hardwoods are small and not fully grown. Above the river on a small ridge is a campground.
This area was logged at one time but it is difficult to tell. Many of the surrounding trees have grown to a spectacular height giving the feeling of old growth. Walking the road between the campsites is a walk among tall and thick hardwoods with a few pines thrown in.
One of the nice campsites at Big Eric’s Bridge State Forest campground.
There are 21 campsites here, all of them primitive. They have a table and fire ring at each site. Because of its remote location, all trash is carry out. If you bring it in, you bring it out. There are pit toilets and hand pumped water. If you are looking for camping with amenities, this is not your place.
Sitting at one of the picnic tables that overlook the Huron River, i realize how full of life the place was. Birds could be heard all around and the forest floor was just beginning its coverage. The first of the wildflowers were blooming and the Spring Beauties were just beginning to pop. I love spring in the U.P.
It’s still early in the year and I feel a chill as the sun creeps to day’s end. I hate to go, but it has been a clear day so the night should get cold. The drive back out is a bit regretful. I really wish that i had had more time to spend at that little campground next to Big Eric’s Bridge.
The Huron River is Michigan’s wild and scenic rivers at it’s best. Cold and untamed it’s flow has created a region of wilderness that is evident throughout Baraga County. The watershed encompasses 61,000 acres and is partly shared with Marquette County.
The river flows onward to Lake Superior and the Huron Bay.
It can be found off of US-41, exit at L’Anse. Turn right at the four-way stop in downtown L’anse and continue 20 miles on Skanee Road (paved). At the junction of Portice Road and Big Erick’s Road, go right on Big Erick’s Road. One mile (gravel) to the campground.
Reverend Abel Bingham Lost in Pictured Rocks – 1842
Author’s Note: Every once in a while I come across a first person account of the early days of the Upper Peninsula that takes a bit of my breath away. Some of these accounts are so vivid, that I leave the story original and in their own words. That is the case with this account of a journey from Sault Sainte Marie to Grand Island by Rev. Abel Bingham. Bingham is quite articulate and to try to paraphrase this would be wrong.
Rev. Abel Bingham, one of the early settlers of Sault Ste. Marie, a Baptist minister sent on a mission to spread his religious message to the Native Americans and anyone else that would listen. His fervor for his mission will nearly get him killed within the wilderness of Pictured Rocks.
Background: Abel (Abilone) Bingham was a Baptist minister that lived in Sault Ste. Marie as one of its earliest settlers. He established a mission there and began a school for local Ojibwa natives. Bingham frequently traveled into the wilds of the U.P. preaching the bible to the different tribes. The Reverend helped create the first bible in the Ojibwa language. Abel and his wife, Hannah, were well known and well liked among the Sault community.
Abel Bingham arrived in the Sault in 1828 on a mission to convert and baptize the Ojibwa natives of Lake Superior. He was ordained as a Baptist minister. He had been a veteran of the war of 1812 and was shot in the head. Fortunately he lived and when the wound had healed he went back to the war.
He then spent time ministering to Native Americans in New York. Because of this experience, he was appointed by the Baptist Board of Foreign Missions as Missionary to the Ojibwa Indians of Lake Superior, then sent to Sault Ste. Marie. Bingham was instructed by the Board to “establish religious services and extend the benefits of the mission to all within reach of his influence.”
Bingham enthusiastically went to work as soon as he arrived. He set up a Christian school to educate the native children. He established a Baptist mission that held services for Native Americans and the European community. They would be separate sermons. For the first year, he left his family behind, but in 1829 he brought them to the Sault. On the first of April he set out on snowshoes through the woods to Mackinac so he could meet a ship. He returned in July with his wife and children.
Hannah Bingham, Rev. Abel Bingham’s wife. She kept the school and ministry running while Bingham was away on his missions.
His wife was reputed to be a good doctor and often attended to wounds and ailments that would crop up in the Ojibwa community. The couple had at least three daughters. They would all take over for the Reverand when he was away on his missions.
Bingham also began a campaign of intemperance and started a temperance society. This was aimed at both European and native people. The Sault it was noted, was full of vice and needed to find its way to righteousness.
Abel Bingham would frequently set out on expeditions at all times of the year in his efforts to bring the word of God to the Ojibwa. From the Sault to Marquette, Bingham would travel summer or winter to fulfill his directive. One year he did a 300 mile mission along the southern shore of Lake Superior. He was so determined that he worked with a man named John Tanner and Dr. James, a surgeon at Fort Brady, to create an Ojibwa version of the bible which Bingham would carry with him and distribute to the natives.
He knew many of the Ojibwa chiefs of the day including Shingwauk and Shingaba W’Osssin, Kawgayosh and Shegud son -in-law of Shingaba W’Ossin. Shegud would work with Bingham as a guide and interpreter replacing John Tanner.
A quick note here. John Tanner and Bingham would have a falling out that would devolve into Tanner losing his wife and child to Bingham who helped them get away from Tanner’s temper. Tanner, who was raised by an Ojibwa tribe, would later be accused of murdering the brother of Henry Schoolcraft, James Schoolcraft. He then disappeared without a trace.
In January of 1842, Bingham set out for Grand Island a trip of about 150 miles along the Lake Superior Shoreline. There was a small band of Ojibwa residing on the Island that he regularly preached to. There was a theory at the time that if the natives weren’t regularly taught religion, they would fall back to their old ways and they would have to be reindoctrinated. He had with him as a guide and interpreter, Henry Shegud, a companion and interpreter who accompanied Bingham on many of his trips. Bingham’s account of that journey follows:
“Spent two days with the Indians at Tahquamenon holding services as usual. Snow had fallen during our stay, making heavy travelling for the dogs, who could go but a short distance without stopping. Did not reach White Fish Point the first day; feared our provisions would give out and felt almost inclined to return. But next morning, after taking a portage across the Point which lessened the distance, we found the traveling better, took courage and pressed ahead. Third day, came to a beautiful bay, at the mouth of Grand Marie River, ninety miles from the Sault. Being rainy the ice was covered with water, through which we had to wade the whole distance across. Next morning, passed the Grand Sable or great sand banks, stretching along the shore some eight or nine miles, nearly perpendicular, and from fifty to one hundred and fifty feet in height. The curious stacks of ice that had been formed by the restless motion of the great Superior on one side and the huge banks on the other side, presented as grand and sublime a view as imagination could paint. The heavy surf from the broad lake rolled in with awful majesty and dashed with tremendous force against the massive rocks.
The rare picture of the Native American village on Grand Island. This was Abel Bingham’s objective when he left the Sault.
“After passing the Pictured Rocks, we ascended the ledge and camped in a small ravine. We were within twelve or fourteen miles of the island, but could pass no further on the ice or beach, the lake not being frozen at this point, so must take to the woods. The travelling was so rough and uneven we were obliged to leave our dog-train, oil-cloth, buffalo robe and oil-cloth overcoat, let the consequences be what they might, strapped our provisions on our backs and continued our march till we came upon a hunter’s camp, so recently deserted that the embers were still alive and found by our compass that we were lost. I felt much uneasiness and concern; took my Bible and read the 41st, 42d, and 43d Psalms, which were the first that presented themselves. The word both reproved and comforted me. Spent the Sabbath here and held divine service, preaching to an audience of one. Monday, retraced our steps, descended a ledge of rocks into a deep ravine and made two or three unsuccessful attempts to climb the opposite bank. If we could not find a pass up this precipice, we must return without visiting the island, which would be very unfortunate, as we were now limited to one meal a day. My interpreter cast off his pack and snowshoes, commenced climbing and in a few minutes, sang out, ‘Here is a place I think we can pass.’ This was a small protuberance somewhat resembling a man’s nose, with perpendicular rocks on both sides of great height. Here we descended the ledge by letting ourselves down from bush to bush and found ourselves on Lake Superior again, within three miles of the lodges. It was excessively cold, with a severe headwind, so that, with my ear-caps and handkerchief both tied over my ears, I froze one of them going that distance. At 2 o’clock, found ourselves comfortably seated in Wazawwadon’s lodge, who was expecting us Saturday. Mr. Williams, an American living on the island, received us with great kindness and fed up our dogs, which were nearly starved while going through the woods. He also furnished us with provisions and everything necessary for our return journey. While there, held meetings at the lodges and at Mr. William’s house. Arrived at home much fatiqued; was absent twenty-seven days; preached fourteen discourses, camped sixteen nights in the woods and was detained one day by severe weather.”
Bingham would call Sault Ste Marie home for many years. His mission would flourish but the grueling pace would take its toll. In 1853 he wrote “As the white population of our place has increased, the Indians have decreased; numbers by death, and others by withdrawing from the place and going to other parts. And when the number was considerably reduced at this place I commenced travelling among them to bear the gospel message to them; and for several years I travelled somewhat extensively, visiting them at their distant locations; in the winter on my snowshoes, and in the summer in my boat. As both these modes of traveling required much labor and caused much fatigue, the chills of 67 winters have so far enfeebled my system that for two years past I have traveled but little. Yet I remain at my station and keep up my school and my religious services both with the white population and Indians as in former years.”
In 1855, he would retire and close his missionary school. After attending the opening of the Soo Locks, he boarded a ship and sailed to Detroit and then traveled to Grand Rapids. The land on which his missionary school and his home stood was sold. The Chippewa County Courthouse now stands there.
William’s Landing, Grand Island. The Williams family began a trading post there near the small Native village that also occupied the Island.
For more information on this story follow these links:
The outside of the Ambassador, like Dr. Who’s TARDIS, quiet and unassuming on the outside, but step through the door and a different and unexpected world is revealed.
Houghton, Michigan in the Keweenaw Peninsula is easily one of the truly historical cities in Michigan if not the midwest. Just driving down the streets takes one back 130 years. If it wasn’t for the cars, there wouldn’t be much difference. Many of the buildings are over a century old and still stand, used for businesses to this day.
Inside, many of the old buildings, the interiors have been modernized, but one is a marvelous step back into time. The Ambassador Restaurant is worth going to, simply to see the inside. It is colorful and antique while providing wonderful views. It is a place where the old town still lingers.
When walking into the Ambassador the colored lights and murals give a sense of wonder when coming through the door.
Built in 1898, the brick building is one block east of the Houghton Lift Bridge. From the outside, it almost seems like just any other place, but when you open the door, you step into a showcase of stained glass, murals, and woodwork. The back wall is lined with windows that provide expansive views of the Portage Canal, the Houghton Lift Bridge, and the city of Hancock, topped by the Quincy Mine hoist protruding into the skyline.
The back wall of the Ambassador is mostly window. The Houghton Lift Bridge can be seen through the window and the Jail Guard panel of the 3rd mural can be seen.
Though stained glass decorates the Ambassador throughout, it is the murals that adorn the walls and ceiling that capture the attention. The murals were originally painted as large oils on canvas and were commissioned by Joseph Bosch owner of the Bosch Breweries which were located in Houghton and Lake Linden. They were painted by a Mr. Rohrbeck and hung in the Bosch Brewery for several years. Eventually they came down and were hung in a bar that was east of the Ambassador called the Giltedge Bar. Prohibition struck and the murals were taken down and stored away. The Ambassador was a known speakeasy during Prohibition called Hole in the Wall.
This is the first mural which appears above the bar. The gnomes are brewing their beer.
When prohibition was repealed, saloons reopened or at least brought cocktails out of the closet, and began remodeling and redecorating the bars around town where the murals were rediscovered. Their next home was the Ambassador where they are now. The date of this is unsure, but it is believed it was in the 40s during a remodel.
This is the second mural that is across from the bar. The party is rolling and the drinking is heavy. Below it some of the stained glass windows are visible.
If looked at in the proper order, they tell a story. The first depicts gnomes brewing beer. They are stirring it up in a large cauldron like a witches brew. The second mural has the gnomes drinking the beer and partying hardy. The third shows them the morning after, hungover and spent, wiped out by their night drinking. A guard is outside so their drunk has ended with the lot of them locked up. This last mural has three separate panels and covers most of the west wall in the dining room. The artwork is superb and it is done with an obvious sense of humor.
This is the third mural which adorns the dining room wall. It is actually three panels, but it is so big i could only fit the middle one into a picture. The jailer panel can be seen in another picture.
The Ambassador is a restaurant that has also won some accolades. Back in the 60’s they developed their own pizza recipe and has since won a place in Pizza Magazine’s Pizza Hall of Fame. Personally, I never knew there was such a thing. But hey, who am I to argue, the food is excellent and not overpriced.
The bar back wall, the Portage Canal can be seen through the windows as well as more of the stained glass above them.
Never been here? That needs to be fixed. Any trip to the Houghton area and Copper Country, should include a stop here. It is a taste of “old” U.P. that is so much more than just a meal. I stop here and have a beer just to look at the place. It never gets old.
There’s even a poem about the Ambassador:
COME FILL A BUMPER
On or about nineteen hundred and two, Mr. Rohrbeck was given a job to do.
With brushes in hand and gnomes in his head, he created the masterpiece on the wall above.
First home for the paintings was the old Giltedge Bar, east of here, but not too far.
Streets were of dirt, sidewalks of wood, hitching posts for horses, business was good.
Beer for a nickel, whiskey for a dime, sandwiches a quarter any old time.
Prohibition was next, and became the law, the Ambassador, a speakeasy, called “Hole in the Wall”
Paintings were rolled and stored away, for twelve long years in the dust they lay.
At last came nineteen thirty-three, the law was repealed and Bacchus was free.
Saloons and taverns opened their doors, folks danced, sang, and drank spirits once more.
The old bar was hauled out of its storage place, and the paintings were hung on the walls they now grace.
The artist, long gone, would be proud if he knew, that folks still enjoy them as much as they do.
Poem above taken from the Ambassador’s website. For more information about the Ambassador Restaurant, go to their website at https://theambassadorhoughton.com/
This mural is a small one near the door at the entrance to the restaurant.
I received a copy of a review of my new book, True Tales the Forgotten History of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. It was written by Tom Powers whose blog, Michigan in Books, has been reviewing Michigan books for several years. The link to it is here: https://michiganinbooks.blogspot.com/2022/05/june-1-2022-post-79.html
For those that don’t want to follow the link I present the review in its entirety below.
True Tales: the Forgotten History of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula by Mikel B. Classen.
“Even Michigan natives who know just a little about the Upper Peninsula are aware of how unique it is geographically and historically. It is a beautiful, wild, rugged, sparsely populated peninsula full of unforgettable scenic wonders that is equaled by its unique and often strange history. This work by Mikel B. Classen is a great introduction to the often remarkable and memorable history connected to the U.P. that in all honesty weren’t forgotten by the general public. They are historical stories they never even knew about.”
“Among my favorites is the account of the last stagecoach robbery east of the Mississippi which took place in the U.P. The robber called himself Black Bart and killed one passenger and wounded another. Then there’s the Great Lake pirate who operated all over Lake Michigan from his base in Escanaba. I thought I knew all the relevant facts about the Ontonagon Boulder. I didn’t. It was a mass of pure copper the Native Americans worshiped, but the Hell with their beliefs. The boulder was transported to Washington where it was misplaced and lost for years. The boulder was the spark that lit the Copper Boom in the U.P. The author also writes of the prominent settlers to the U.P., throws in the odd shipwreck, and relates the story of a couple of castaways on Isle Royale. The two survived a winter on the island by eating bark, roots, and berries. The husband went crazy from hunger and his wife feared she was next on his menu.”
“Those who consider history boring need to read this book before doubling down on their misplaced judgement. The book is jam-packed full of interesting and arresting true stories tied to U.P. history. All I can say is, another volume please.”
If you are interested in purchasing True Tales, it can be picked up on Amazon or it can be ordered through your local bookstore.
There were logging camps in every part of the Upper Peninsula. They are the stuff of north country legends and lumberjacks were notorious for their drinking and brawling. Most of the lumbering towns have their tales of bullets and blood.
Sawmill that was located near Skanee.
Logging covered the entire U.P. and in a decade, much of the thick pine forests were cut leaving behind them an ocean of stumps. The dense forests we see today are a testament to the recovery power of the natural environment.
Logging with horses near Escanaba
Horses did much of the work as the logs were slid out across the frozen ground in winter. It was a brutal job in harsh conditions. Many died in the pursuit of the lumber that went to build so many cities and homes.
A tow of ships taking lumber to market in the cities of the south.
A large portion of the white pine lumber went to help rebuild the city of Chicago after the great fire in 1871 where over 17,500 buildings were destroyed.
This is a recent video of me talking about my book Points North. It is a bit rough because my zoom hookup was sketchy. I did this for the U.P. Notable Books Club that is administered through the Crystal Falls, Michigan Library. It gets into a lot of the background on the book and some of the stories from the writing of this kind of book. People in this video are Myself, Evelyn Gathu, Crystal Falls Librarian and Victor Volkman, President of the Upper Peninsula Publishers and Authors Association, UPPAA.
To know more about UPPAA and the U.P. Notable Books go here: http://uppaa.org
We all like to take a walk in the woods. Trees towering over our heads and the wonderful smell of pine needles as the sun fights through the dense leaves creating the dappled light of the deep forest, is unlike anything else. Then add in some of the oldest trees in the Midwest, the legendary White Pines that were sought to near extinction by the lumbering companies. In the Upper Peninsula of Michigan there is such a place.
The Keweenaw Peninsula has no shortage of trees, their presence is everywhere their roots can gain a hold. Tall pines and oaks line the ridges and valleys throughout. Though breathtaking in their own right, 150 years ago much of the forest was removed for the progress of man and very little of the original forest remains. What we see now is the offsprings of the original wilderness. But, in a tract of land near Copper Harbor, Michigan, a small part of that original wilderness remains.
The Estivant Pines is one of the last stands of old growth pines left in the State of Michigan. Deep within the 500 acre tract which is administered by the Michigan Nature Association, are the much sought after towering old White Pines. There is a double loop trail that winds beneath these monsters of the wilderness making this walk in the woods unforgettable.
The first trail loop is 1 mile long and is called the Cathedral Grove loop. This hike goes through hardwoods and then meanders through 500 year old giant White Pines. Some of them are 125 feet tall. It is hard to comprehend the majesty of these trees until one is standing beneath them, looking up seemingly touching the sky.
The second loop, the Bertha Daubendiek Memorial Loop is 1.2 miles long. Bertha was the founder of the Michigan Nature Association. Pine, maple and oak grow along this trail with one of the pines having germinated as far back as 1695. Hiking both trails is about 2.5 miles, none of which is very rough. There are some ups and downs, but not overly strenuous.
Other attractions of the Estivant Pines is over 85 identified species of birds make the tract their home. This place is a bird watchers paradise. Also, this is a hiking only trail so meeting vehicles on the trail such as bicycles, isn’t happening here. There has been a recent boom in bicycling in Copper Harbor and many of the trails around the area are now multi-use.
To get to the Estivant Pines, drive to Copper Harbor in the Keweenaw Peninsula. In Copper Harbor, turn on 2nd street. This road will turn into Manganese Road. Follow this for 1.2 miles. On the left just out of Copper Harbor is Manganese Falls, it is well worth checking out. Turn left on Clark Mine Road. Public access to Lake Manganese is to the right, a beautiful spring fed lake, also worth checking out. Continue on Clark Mine Road for approximately 1.2 miles and turn right on Burma Road. Another half mile and you are at the parking area for the Estivant Pines.
This tract of land was originally owned by Edward Estivant who was from Paris, France. It was originally 2400 acres when Estivant purchased it. He eventually sold it to the Calumet Hecla Mining Company in 1947. Then in 1968 it went to the Universal Oil Company who purchased the land for logging and proceeded to cut 300 acres of it. The Michigan Nature Association stepped in and bought 200 acres of the remaining old growth in hopes of preserving a small portion of it. Local citizens worked with them to raise funds and organized a “Save the Pines” campaign. Even local school kids fund raised. In 1973 the Estivant pines was created. Since then more of the tract has been purchased and over 500 acres of the original 2400 is now in the hands of the Michigan nature Association.
The Estivant Pines is open to hiking and snowshoeing. This is a day use area, so there is no overnight camping of any kind. There is no cost to hike other than time. It is a worthwhile experience to walk among these old giants and is something that shouldn’t be overlooked while in the Copper Harbor area.
I received a note that pointed me to a review of my book Points North. It was from the Midwest Book Review and written by Carolyn Wilhelm. I really thought it was nice so I wanted to share it here.
Oh, this book helped me reminisce about the days when I could do primitive camping, hear loons, see wildlife, go canoeing, and enjoy the outdoors with relative privacy. It covers history, fishing, boating, hiking, walking, camping, with detailed location information in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula (U.P.). How many camping spots, a few or many? Tents only, or are recreational vehicles allowed? Are canoes or motorboats allowed? Is the fishing good? Is the park or camping area away from roads and noise? Where should a family go for a good day trip? What animals are usually seen around the campsites? Is it a good location for photographers? Where do the seniors stay? Are there accessible trails for those who need them? Where can people who want a grueling climb and a sense of accomplishment find a spot for that type of exercise?
Details like this are usually only known by locals. This illustrated travel guide lets us in on these secrets not usually shared to have the best vacation possible for a single day or longer. Classen must have spent many years experiencing all the U.P. offers and kindly shares this off the beaten path information.
Points North is an award winning book; Best Independent Publication 2020 – Historical Society of Michigan, U.P. Notable Book – Upper Peninsula Publishers and Authors Association; that details 40 different destinations across all areas of the U.P. To purchase Points North, click here.
In my collection of old photos, I occasionally come across portrait style pictures, Unfortunately many of these are unidentified and we don’t know who these individuals are. Maybe somewhere along the way, someone may know who these individuals are. The first picture was a lucky one because we have part of the name for these three ladies. The back of the photo says “These ladies probably were Lypsinmaas.” of all of the pictures on this page, it is the only one that has some form of identification.
What this does do, is give us a look into the faces that walked the streets of Red Jacket / Calumet in the 1880s and 90s. Walking along the streets one could easily encounter any one of these folks going about their daily business. The second picture is completely unknown though by looking at their faces, it appears that they are related. My guess would be brothers but it is impossible to be sure. It does illustrate the importance of labeling photographs of families. We don’t normally think of ourselves as historical but as time moves on all things become historical by their representations of days and people gone by.
The next picture, which is a typical Red Jacket couple, seem to be economically reasonably well off. If nothing else we know they are probably wearing their “Sunday best.” Most of the locals worked in the copper mines where the companies paid low wages and worked long endless days of hard labor. The early days of living on the Keweenaw were hard and cold, yet Red Jacket / Calumet thrived with art and culture. A dozen nationalities converged on the region all in pursuit of wealth from the copper deposits. Cornish, Irish, Italians, Finns, Swedes, and Slavs, all became the backbone of the copper community of the Keweenaw.
Like many communities, there were those that put on uniforms. Our fourth picture shows an unknown soldier from Red Jacket / Calumet. (For those that are unaware, Red Jacket is the original name of the town of Calumet. Calumet was the original name of Laurium. In the 1920s, they moved the name of Calumet to Red Jacket and Calumet became Laurium.) Not being an expert of the military, I’m not sure what this uniform is from. I believe he has a bayonet holder on his belt. It is his English style bobby hat he has next to him that has me guessing. It would be really great to put a name to this guy. Actually it would be really great to put a name to any of these pictures.
As I stated earlier, these are all people that one would have met on the streets during daily life. This last picture shows a pair of unknown women that still seem to have an old world connection. The embroidery on the dress of the woman on the right seems Scandinavian or Slavic. It is hard to tell if they are related. These pictures are around 150 years old. They depict the faces of those that came to one of the harshest places on Earth to establish their places in the American Dream. These are the pioneers of the Upper Peninsula. These are the faces of the U.P.’s past.
I just received notice that my new book, True Tales, the Forgotten History of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula is now live on Amazon. It is available in hardcover and softcover currently with the e-version in a few days. There will also be an audiobook. I know a lot of you have been waiting for this, so here’s your opportunity. As it settles into catalogs, it will also be available to order through bookstores.
Here are some of the reviews:
“Romantic ideas of the pioneer days in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula will fade quickly as these true tales of lawless, rugged, wild-weather, difficult times before about 1900 are perused. Laws were few, enforcement was scarce, violent events were often, and shipwrecks were many. However, opportunities to be a hero were as numerous and wonderful life-saving deeds of kindness and compassion are recorded in these pages as well. Classen does history an excellent service by revealing the truth. Sometimes we think humanity has advanced little. An attitude quickly challenged in these pages. Readers will feel gratitude for all they have today after finishing these tales.” –Carolyn Wilhelm, MA, Midwest Book Review
“Classen accomplished what he set out to do-provide readers with interesting and true tales about the U.P. He did not romanticize the history and told bold facts to enlighten the reader. The U.P. was uncharted territory with harsh beginnings. Captains battled terrible storms while sailing on Lake Superior. Corrupt entrepreneurs made money off the suffering of young women. Classen rang bells for unsung heroes. Much can be learned about Chase Osborn’s efforts-the man who became the first governor of Michigan from the U.P. and Peter White, founder of Marquette. So much can be learned by reading Classen’s book. It is highly recommended.” –Sharon Brunner, U.P. Book Review
A photograph of unknown persons taken in Ironwood Michigan by O.L. Thornbladh.
I recently acquired some old photos of individuals from across the U.P. Many of them are unknown as to the identity of the individuals in them. I have that issue with the one above. I have no idea what is going on in this, but it looks similar to one I have where a known outlaw is having his picture taken with the sheriff after being arrested. It is also from Ironwood and the individual on the right in the back looks a lot like the sheriff in that picture. If anyone has any information regarding this, I would really appreciate hearing from you. Currently I’ve dubbed this the “Ironwood Bad Boys.” If nothing else it is a really awesome picture from the U.P.’s past.
This image is of miners washing the tailings from copper mining ore as it was brought out of the mine.
A while back I acquired an old magazine from 1860 that had a few drawings of the early days of mining in the Upper Peninsula. These were printed when the copper boom was rising giving us in this century, some of the earliest images of the beginning of this era of our history.
Mining in the early days was intensely dangerous, even more so than today. The rock was blasted with dynamite and the miners only had a single candle to see what they were doing. The guy holding the chisel has to have a lot of trust in his co-workers.
The danger of those days can’t be understated. There was poor lighting and high explosives were used on a regular basis. The threat of cave-ins and flooding were constant. Accidents abounded.
Getting ore out to where it could be shipped wasn’t easy. This shows Lake Linden in the distance as viewed from one of the mines. The entire track can be seen and it shows the extremes of getting the ore out. I’ve seen this as a photograph as well.
Getting the ore out of the Upper Peninsula wilderness was no easy task. The picture above shows not only that aspect, but the process of getting it to shipping. The track runs down the incline to a plant below. The copper ore was then smelted into large ingots (copper bricks) and then shipped south through the Great Lakes. Millions of tons were mined, smelted and then shipped during the copper boom, much of it like the picture above.
This is an early copper mine hoist. This is long before the immense steel hoists dominated the peninsula.
In the early days, wood was the only building material available to build the necessary structures for mining. It wasn’t until steel and equipment could be shipped into Lake Superior that the steel hoists came into prominence. This is just a small bit of our mining history.
This will be a presentation of some of the fascinating stories contained with my newest book “True Tales – The Forgotten History of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.” The talk will include pirates, thieves, misadventures and crime in the early days of the U.P.
This is how the Grand Island North Lighthouse appeared around the time of the mystery.
Something washed ashore at Au Sable Point near Grand Marais. It was June 12, 1908. A man named Van Dusen spotted a small sailboat along the shore near the light station at Au Sable. The mast was broken and it appeared to have been through some rough weather. He went up to the boat and looked in. Inside was the body of a dead man!
It looked like the body had taken a beating. The head had been beaten almost beyond recognition and the shoulders and neck looked broken and battered. The dead man wore the uniform of the Lighthouse Service!
Au Sable Point Lighthouse Light Keeper, Thomas Irvine, recorded the incident, “2nd Asst ret. 9 A.M. Mr. Wm Van Dusen of Grand Marais reported a Light House boat ashore with a dead man in her about 9 mile W. of Station. I sent 1st Asst to report it to Life Saving Station. Crew arrived here 9 P.M. I went up with them and brought boat to station. They took body to Gd. Marais. Man apparently died from exposure, as he was lying under the forward deck, foremast gone, mainmast standing. Boat was in good shape, only one small hole in her. I think it is from Grand Island Light Station.”
The body was identified as assistant lighthouse keeper Edward Morrison from the north Grand Island Light Station. How he had come to Au Sable point was a mystery. He was identified by a tattoo on his arm.
This is a picture of light keeper Morrison, the victim found in the boat near Au Sable Point.
The body was taken back to Munising and tales were coming in that the north Grand Island light had been dark for a week. The idea that Morrison died from exposure faded quickly. A group of Munising residents went out there to investigate. What they found made everything even more mysterious. The head light keeper, George Genery had completely disappeared. The supplies he had brought back from Munising were still sitting on the dock. As they made a search of the light, they found nothing out of the ordinary, things were meticulously in place. Genery’s coat was hung on a hook in the boathouse. Morrison’s vest was hanging on the back of a chair with papers and his watch still in the pockets. Of the three boats that were normally left at the station, and the story differs here, one sources says one was missing and another source says there were two. No one could understand what had happened.
The authorities began a search for the missing Genery, but he was nowhere to be found. There were some that said that they had seen Genery around the local bars in Munising drinking heavily, but none of these could be substantiated. Genery’s wife who was living in town claimed she hadn’t seen him either, but those that talked to her claimed she seemed unconcerned. The reason for this could be that Genery had a reputation of having a temper and wasn’t easy to work with. He required a new assistant every season since his appointment. The domestic life could have been rocky to say the least.
There are three basic theories that came out at the time to try to explain the events. The first theory is that the pair were murdered. The north point of Grand Island was another very isolated light station. The nearest neighbor was the Grand Island game keeper who lived seven miles away. He was the caretaker for William Mather’s game preserve that featured exotic game. Mather was the president of the Cleveland Cliffs Mining Company. When Genery and Morrison had been in town to pick up supplies, they had been paid. The pair was going back to the lighthouse with full pockets. The north light would have been an ideal place for a robbery. It was known that the gamekeeper was feuding with the lightkeepers, claiming they had been poaching some of the exotic game. This could have been a profitable opportunity for him. He disappeared into Canada not long after the lightkeepers disappeared.
Genery is pictured here with his children. He was known for his anger issues.
The second theory and the strongest, is that Genery killed him. The scenario goes as follows: Morrison brought the wheelbarrow down to the dock to help haul supplies back to the station. The evidence of this is the hung coat and vest which would have had both men in shirt sleeves, warm from the work. Because of Genery’s personality and reputation, Morrison probably said something that set Genery off. In a flash of rage, Genery grabbed something like an oar or a shovel and beat Morrison’s skull in. To hide the crime he put Morrison in a boat and sent it out into Lake Superior, probably hoping it would never be found and he could say his assistant had deserted. Or he was out in the boat and was hit with the boom from the sail. Whatever he thought, he next went into Munising and went on a several day drunk. He then probably went home and when news of the body found at Au Sable came in, he fled.
Strangely, before he died, Morrison had sent his wife a letter who lived in Flint, Michigan. She received it four days after he had died. In the letter he wrote, “Do not be surprised if you hear of my body being found dead along the shores of Lake Superior. He goes on to say that Genery was of a quarrelsome disposition and he thought there might be an “accident” if he were to oppose him.
The third is that they were out in the boat and the waves got rough. Genery fell overboard and Morrison lost his footing and was knocked unconscious. The subsequent battering of the boat killed him. This one seems to not make a lot of sense with the facts. Supplies left on the dock, coat not taken, just doesn’t fit this.
Several months after the murder a body was found on the shore of Lake Superior. Accounts vary as to exactly where, but some claimed it was Genery’s though it was never identified. Bodies discovered on the lakeshore was not an unusual occurrence and it still remains unknown whether it was Genery or not.
To this day the mystery remains unsolved. No one really knows what happened to the dead man of Au Sable point. Thomas Irvine, the light keeper that discovered the body was transferred from Au Sable in 1908.
I have just finished the rough version of my new book. It is off to the publisher awaiting publication. Whew! It always feels like a long haul when you finish a book. Though I feel all of my books are worth a read, this one is special. If you are a fan of this website, then this book is for you.
In this book the romance is gone. It tries to show many of the true hardships and facets of trying to settle a frontier that was sandwiched between three Great Lakes. There are stories from across the Peninsula from first hand accounts to revelations from the news of the time. As always there are heroes and villains. There are feats of great good and dirty deeds of the worst kind. There are adventures of the most extraordinary men as they struggle for the riches of the U.P. well before gold was discovered in California. There are accomplishments of those that braved the wrath of the Great Lakes in leaking ships and frozen waters. The intensity of storms killed thousands on land and lakes. Over 200 died in one season just between Marquette and Whitefish Point. Often the Edmund Fitzgerald is memorialized, but few remember the hundreds of wrecks before it. You will find some here.
These pages are populated by Native Americans, miners, loggers and mariners that consisted of Germans, Italians, Finns, Swedes, French and English. People came from everywhere looking for their personal promised land. Some to raise families, some to avoid the law or to start a new life. Some to get rich no matter what it took. The Upper Peninsula frontier called to all.
This book is the first installment in what will be a larger work that chronicles the rare and forgotten stories that make the history of the U.P. what it is. Through research and investigation I hope to bring back many of the tales that time and historians forgot.
The U.P. of today was created by individuals that rose up to meet challenges that broke lesser folks. Their mental and physical stamina was that of finely honed athletes accomplishing feats unheard of in the modern world. They hacked homes out of a dense wilderness and raised families with danger at every turn. Many of these feats have gone unsung throughout history and through this book many come to light.
It is my hope that the stories contained within this book not only celebrates the struggles of the individuals that first braved this formidable and raw land , but honestly portrays their efforts to overcome the incredible obstacles that stood in the way of the beloved peninsula we now know. It was once a very different place.
I received a note that pointed me to a review of my book Points North. It was from the Midwest Book Review and written by Carolyn Wilhelm. I really thought it was nice so I wanted to share it here.
What this does do, is give us a look into the faces that walked the streets of Red Jacket / Calumet in the 1880s and 90s. Walking along the streets one could easily encounter any one of these folks going about their daily business. The second picture is completely unknown though by looking at their faces, it appears that they are related. My guess would be brothers but it is impossible to be sure. It does illustrate the importance of labeling photographs of families. We don’t normally think of ourselves as historical but as time moves on all things become historical by their representations of days and people gone by.
The next picture, which is a typical Red Jacket couple, seem to be economically reasonably well off. If nothing else we know they are probably wearing their “Sunday best.” Most of the locals worked in the copper mines where the companies paid low wages and worked long endless days of hard labor. The early days of living on the Keweenaw were hard and cold, yet Red Jacket / Calumet thrived with art and culture. A dozen nationalities converged on the region all in pursuit of wealth from the copper deposits. Cornish, Irish, Italians, Finns, Swedes, and Slavs, all became the backbone of the copper community of the Keweenaw.
Like many communities, there were those that put on uniforms. Our fourth picture shows an unknown soldier from Red Jacket / Calumet. (For those that are unaware, Red Jacket is the original name of the town of Calumet. Calumet was the original name of Laurium. In the 1920s, they moved the name of Calumet to Red Jacket and Calumet became Laurium.) Not being an expert of the military, I’m not sure what this uniform is from. I believe he has a bayonet holder on his belt. It is his English style bobby hat he has next to him that has me guessing. It would be really great to put a name to this guy. Actually it would be really great to put a name to any of these pictures.
As I stated earlier, these are all people that one would have met on the streets during daily life. This last picture shows a pair of unknown women that still seem to have an old world connection. The embroidery on the dress of the woman on the right seems Scandinavian or Slavic. It is hard to tell if they are related. These pictures are around 150 years old. They depict the faces of those that came to one of the harshest places on Earth to establish their places in the American Dream. These are the pioneers of the Upper Peninsula. These are the faces of the U.P.’s past.
