Before the Selfie: Cycle Peek-a-Boo Camera

Peggy Derrick

Catalog Number: 2015.026.04

Long before we were taking “selfies” with our cell phones, and long before the Polaroid Swinger was popularized by a young Ali McGraw strolling on the beach with her instant camera, trend-setters could take photographs while on the go with their Cycle Peek-a-Boo camera.  A mere 5.5” by 6.5” when closed, this little bellows camera came with a case designed to be strapped to the upper frame bar of a bicycle, hence Cycle in the name. Technology geeks of the 1890s could be doubly fulfilled, using the latest in transportation and documenting their excursions with a high-quality portable camera.

The Aiken-Gleason Company of La Crosse made this camera in about 1898. The company had been formed in 1896 and operated in the downtown area until 1901, when it was reorganized as the Imperial Camera and Manufacturing Company.  Imperial continued to make and sell high-quality glass-plate cameras until it was absorbed by another company and moved to Rochester, NY, in 1903, thus ending La Crosse’s brief entrée into camera manufacturing.

The Cycle Peek-a-Boo, along with three other cameras made in La Crosse by Aiken-Gleason and Imperial, are a recent donation to the collection of the La Crosse County Historical Society. Local historian and retired UW-L Special Collections director Ed Hill had collected these as part of his research on photography in La Crosse and has chosen to donate them here, where they can be part of the largest publically-owned collection of local artifacts. According to Ed, “Imperial succumbed, as did so many other firms, to the competitive pressures and technologies of the several major photographic manufacturing companies of the day. Imperial produced cameras for just over two years. Its production was so influential, however, that its cameras can be found in collections and museums all over the United States.”

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on December 26, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

The Leona and Social Norms

Susan T. Hessel

Through 21st century eyes, the Leona is a paradox in lace, combining slip, camisole and drawers. It was the cotton drawers portion that proved perplexing.

They are not sewn together at the bottom, but are left open between the legs. Today we find this somewhat scandalous, but in 1909 it was both practical and modest. A woman did not need to undress to answer nature’s call, thus preserving her virtue.

Back then, the Leona was in that class of clothes dubbed “unmentionables” that was not universally worn when the Leona Garment Co. produced it between 1907 and 1920. The end came when flappers changed to “very risky attire” that included shorter dresses baring more chest and legs. Women left their corsets at home, along with the layers of undergarments that went under and over the corset.

The Leona sales catalog claimed it would cut “your laundry bills in two.” It was lighter and easily washable, and it served as a barrier between outer clothes and bodily secretions. Thus, wearers laundered outer clothing less often, something significant when cleanliness and wearing undergarments indicated higher social class.

Linker was apprenticed to a dressmaker at age 12 in Minneapolis, and she opened her own shop in La Crosse in 1895, at the age of 16. Later she also became an agent for the Gossard Corset Co. of Chicago.

A 1900 La Crosse Daily Press article about her first travels abroad for Gossard carried this headline: “La Crosse Girl’s Luck: Miss Foerster goes to Paris:” It described her as “one little La Crosse girl with a happy heart. For not only will she be enabled to see the great World’s Exposition at Paris and travel to other points of interest, but she will do it at no expense to herself and get a salary besides.”

Clearly, her talent went un-noted in that article, replaced by luck. In keeping with the custom of the day, she did not travel alone — instead she had a chaperone in Harry Kirby.

Who knew the Leona would say so much about the role of women in the early 20th century?

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on December 19, 2015.

Montague's Biscuits Tin

Andrew Vittone

Catalog Number: 1997.125.01

Do you ever wonder how such a deep sense of community came to be embedded in La Crosse? Many take this feeling for granted, but examples of La Crosse’s strong social capital can be found more than 100 years ago.

Giles R. Montague planted his roots here in 1854, moving from Granby, Mass. Considered one of the oldest residents of La Crosse, Montague was a prominent businessman who encouraged development in the community. His early businesses encompassed insurance, surveying and real estate.

In 1894, he opened the La Crosse Cracker and Candy Co., where this wholesale biscuit tin was used to transport goods across the Midwest. Customers paid a small deposit on the tin, which was then returned to the company and reused.

After five short years, Montague sold the factory to widely-known Nabisco. Nabisco operated the La Crosse factory until 1904, when the company announced it would be closing the plant and moving operations to the Twin Cities.

The people of La Crosse were not impressed with Nabisco’s decision. Community members, feeling glum and hurt by the loss of jobs, rallied around Montague to purchase the company back. In 1905, he regained ownership of the factory and expanded operations.

Unfortunately, the factory burned to the ground only two years later. A resilient man, Montague closed his carriage business and moved the cracker and candy operations into that building. With strong community support, the La Crosse Cracker and Candy Factory thrived until the 1930s, when the Great Depression caused the company to fold.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on December 12, 2015

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

1914 Wedding Dress

Katrina Bjornstad

Catalog Number: 2011.003.01

What better way to welcome winter than a gorgeous, white wedding dress?

During wedding preparations, so much time and energy goes into dress shopping (as it should be) to pick out the perfect dress to say ‘I do’ in. This is exactly what Augusta Dobe did…well, kind of.

Augusta was a dressmaker and seamstress who opened her own shop in 1909 on the corner of 4th and Division after finishing her education at Snow’s College in downtown La Crosse.  She employed six to eight women to help her which included her sister, Minnie.

The shop was successful due to the patronage of wealthier ladies who had Augusta and her staff design and make regular clothing along with fanciful gowns worn to social events in La Crosse. Augusta would also design and sew wardrobes for college-bound women and would sometimes stay at their homes while finishing the garments.

With her expertise in dressmaking, Augusta made her own wedding dress in preparation for her marriage to Arthur Beutler, a local grocer, in 1914. The dress is a combination of machine work as well as hand sewing with a satin sash situated at the waist of the dress.  The wedding gown is considered to be fashionable for the era because of its lace motifs and evening wear influences.

Augusta’s wedding dress is one of the objects that will be featured in the exhibition “[art]ifact , Where History Meets Art,” on display from February 26 through April 16, 2016, at the Pump House Regional Art Center. It will be displayed alongside a new piece of artwork created by artist Marcia Thompson, as a response to the history of the Beutler wedding dress. “[art]ifact” is a collaboration of the Pump House, the UW-L Public History Program and the La Crosse County Historical Society.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on December 5, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

The Call of the Open Trunk

Terri Karsten

Catalog Number: 2012.fic.145  

Like a train whistle piercing the night or the blast of a steamship horn on the river, an empty trunk lures the would-be traveler to dreaming of far-away places. At the end of the nineteenth century any such travel was difficult. Wealthy travelers packed a small ‘steamer’ trunk (no taller than 13”) for access during the journey and one or more large ‘box’ trunks for everything they might need at the destination, where the traveler might spend a month or more. Servants were employed to handle the bulky trunks.

 By the early twentieth century travel for pleasure became more democratic, no longer just for the wealthy. Middle-class, working folk began to embrace the idea of the ‘holiday.’ A booming tourist industry urged travelers to see America as a patriotic duty, and the idea of a summer vacation getaway was born.

La Crosse, situated on the Mississippi River, was (and still is) ideal for starting either rail or steamboat travel, a perfect place for George Herken to set up his trunk factory in 1884. In 1909 Herken introduced the newly invented “vulcanized fiber” to La Crosse. He advertised it as a trunk covering stronger and more durable than leather. Herken's Trunk Factory produced all sizes of custom-made luggage. This trunk, built between 1909 and 1922, is a prime example of the high quality, custom-made trunks that were Herken’s specialty.

By the late 1920’s with better roads and more cars, traveler’s needs changed. Such large trunks fell out of favor, replaced by smaller, more manageable bags. Large trunks were relegated to attics and storerooms, crammed with outdated treasures, full of memories too important to throw away.

This trunk is one of the objects that will be featured in the exhibition “[art]ifact , Where History Meets Art,” on display from February 26 through April 16, 2016, at the Pump House Regional Art Center. It will be displayed alongside a new piece of artwork created by artist Kim Vaughter as a response to the history of the Herken trunk. “[art]ifact” is a collaboration of the Pump House, the UW-L Public History Program and the La Crosse County Historical Society.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune November 28, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Hmong Bird Knife

James North

Behind the Hmong Cultural and Community Center in La Crosse is a small blacksmith’s shop. Inside this humble workshop the tradition of Hmong blacksmithing is kept alive by master blacksmith Tong Khai Vang. The tradition of Hmong blacksmithing was brought to La Crosse from Laos in the latter half of the 20th Century by Mr Vang and others.  During their time in the United States, they have made hundreds of different tools and educated many in the Hmong community in this ancient tradition kept alive through their work.

In the corner of the shop is a trash can filled with scrap metal from which tools for a variety of purposes are created; whether they be gardening tools, kitchenware or ceremonial instruments, they are all created with the same care and respect as any piece of art, and rival the quality of machine-made tools available elsewhere in La Crosse. It is amazing how recycled truck springs, lawnmower blades, and railway spikes can be re-forged into tools of exceptional quality and rugged beauty.

This is known as a bird knife because of the swooping point at the end of its spine, reminiscent of a bird’s tail as it is about to take off. It’s about 14 inches long overall, and has its own wooden sheath.  It was created using a handmade forge and shaped on an anvil with hammers and tongs. It was then sharpened on a homemade bench with blocks of stone. There are no pieces of industrial equipment in the blacksmith shop, only handmade benches. Hours of hard work and generations of knowledge went into the creation of this knife, keeping traditional Hmong blacksmithing alive in the 21st Century.

This knife is one of the objects that will be featured in the exhibition “[art]ifact , Where History Meets Art,” on display from February 26 through April 16, 2016, at the Pump House Regional Art Center. “[art]ifact” is a collaboration of the Pump House, the UW-L Public History Program and the La Crosse County Historical Society.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on November 21, 2015.

A Cozy Wedding Quilt

Peggy Derrick

Catalog Number: 1988.025.01

Even though the meteorologists say we are on track for one of the three warmest Novembers in recorded history, we need to remember: this is November, after all. We know what’s coming. And what better preparation can there be than to get out the quilts? Quilts are warmth and love made manifest in brightly colored cloth, stuffed with batting for insulation, and stitched together to bring cozy cheer and memories into our homes in the cold months.

This all-cotton quilt was made by Mina Brinker Ristow, who lived at 513 Oak St., Onalaska. It was donated to the La Crosse County Historical Society in 1988 by her granddaughter, Eleanor Ristow Mack, who lived on Easton Farm in Mormon Coulee. We have no documentation to back this up, but I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that Mina probably made this as a gift to her daughter, Eleanor’s mother, who handed it down to her daughter. And a quilt done in a pattern with the romantic name of Double Wedding Ring may well have been a wedding gift.

Although we think of quilts as old-timey, and a product of the 19th century, this pattern is quintessential 1930s, a product of the Colonial Revival decorating movement.

Urbanization, immigration, and industrialization changed America drastically in the space of a generation, and many people began looking for a partial return to “simpler times,” and colonial America loomed large in their collective imaginings. Of course the images of early Americana were generally wishful fantasies, but women could hand quilt their modern designs, pieced in the most recent printed cottons and feel that they were sharing an experience with their foremothers in the colonies.  

This is a classic 1930s Double Wedding Ring quilt. It has colorful printed patchwork on a white background. The scalloped border, following the design, is a typical 1930s technique, as are the colors and designs of these cheerful little prints. Sometimes these were from feed sacks made from printed fabrics for women to reuse.

Mina Ristow’s life may have been hard, but she must have gotten a lot of pleasure out of making this beautiful quilt for a beloved daughter. And we know the daughter treasured it, because it was saved and passed down to another generation after that.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on November 14, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Mabel Malia Bettin Goes to War

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 1986.067.01

In Nov. 1918, Sgt. Chandler W. Post penned an ode to "The Army Nurse," published in The Stars and Stripes. "She comes with a cheery ‘Good morning,’/Then a word to the fellow who’s blue;/ And, really now, it’s amazing/ What her pleasant smile will do." Post had spent three months in five different hospitals, so was a bit of an expert on the nurses in the U.S. Army Nurse Corps.[1] Though thousands of women served as nurses in WWI, inconsistent record-keeping and a decades-long ambivalence about their status as veterans has obscured details of their service.

Mabel Malia, a 25-year-old nurse from Galesville, was one of the thousands of women who volunteered for service in what was then called "The Great War." She had graduated from the Lutheran Hospital Nursing School in 1916, and continued to work at Lutheran Hospital until her enlistment in the U.S. Army on June 5, 1918. This wool jacket and skirt set was likely her uniform for traveling and official duties; she would have worn a simpler cotton dress for actual work.

We know only the barest essentials of Malia’s wartime experience. She was in the Nurse Corps for nearly fourteen months, including more than eight months after the Armistice on Nov. 11, 1918. The horrors of prolonged trench warfare did not end with the Armistice, and Malia undoubtedly did some of her most difficult work after the guns had stopped, as she and roughly 20,000 other nurses tried to repair the damage to men’s bodies and minds.

After the war, Malia worked at a hospital in Iowa, but ultimately returned to La Crosse. She married George T. Bettin, a fellow veteran and a La Crosse native, in the early 1920s. Bettin’s and Malia’s families lived near each other on Badger St. in 1917 when war broke out, so the two may have known each other prior to enlistment. George Bettin was one of the first eleven men from La Crosse to volunteer for the "New Army" in the summer of 1917, though we know little about his service as well. It is likely that both of their personnel files were destroyed in a 1973 fire at the National Personnel Records Center.

Mabel Malia Bettin and George Bettin built a life together in La Crosse, raising three children and playing active roles in the community. One wonders if they discussed their wartime experiences, or if they followed prevalent advice of the time to forget it. This Veterans Day, the La Crosse County Historical Society urges you to take a moment to remember – and certainly not to forget – the contributions of everyday Americans like the Bettins."

[1] The Stars and Stripes (Paris, France: Nov. 29, 1918, vol. 1, no. 43, p.4.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on October 31, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Bright Eyes

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 2017.fic.010

Need last-minute inspiration for a Halloween costume? Take a cue from early-twentieth-century stage actor Florence Holbrook: big hair with a bigger hat is always an attention-grabber.

From February through May 1910, Bright Eyes played to crowds at the New York Theatre and the Grand Opera House, both in New York City. The “musical play” follows the lives of an unemployed young actress and her playwright husband as they struggle to find a producer for the husband’s play. Hijinks ensue after they rope in the [male] president of a female seminary. The original performance featured veteran actors Cecil Lean and Florence Holbrook, both of whom received positive reviews from critics who were otherwise lukewarm about the play. (The New York Times critic belittled the play as “a slightly entertaining piece, with occasional bits of merit.”) Holbrook brought energy to the production, while Lean brought comedy. In the play’s most popular scene, Cecil Lean reads out weekly notices to a country church choir, using shades of “hesitation, nearsightedness, blunders, gravity, deprecation, modesty, exultation, cheerfulness, and sadness” that had the audience rolling in the aisles.

As was common, when Bright Eyes left the New York stage, it showed up on stages in small and mid-sized cities around the country. The play toured eastern Wisconsin in February 1912 and northern Iowa in 1914, and it is likely the advertisement in the Historical Society’s collection dates from then. “Bright Eyes hasn’t much of a story,” said the Waterloo (IA) Evening Courier in 1914, “but it is a sparkling little ‘show,’ pert as to action and clean, and whiles away the time much more pleasantly than many of the [shows] that have preceded it.”

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on October 31, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Mid-winter Republican Party in La Crosse

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 1992.100.25

On February 19, 1940, Republicans from all over Wisconsin descended on the La Crosse Vocational School (now Western Technical College) for a mid-winter political convention. Approximately 1,700 Republican delegates representing each of the state’s 71 counties convened to adopt a new constitution for the state’s party and prepare for the upcoming national convention and presidential election. James E. Higbee, a former La Crosse City Attorney, wore this pin while serving as a delegate for La Crosse County.

After an invocation given by the pastor of Caledonia Street Methodist Church and a speech by the mayor of La Crosse, the convention started in earnest when Dr. F. Lynn Gullickson of West Salem opened the business proceedings. Gullickson, a dentist serving as chairman of the Wisconsin Republican party in 1940, set a tone of “unity” and “harmony” for the convention, according to newspapers accounts.

Other than the usual skirmishes between delegates from Milwaukee and delegates from everywhere else, the convention was notable for producing a significant change to the Wisconsin Republican party’s constitution. An amendment to the constitution mandated that a woman from each congressional district sit on the new state executive committee. The measure, which women in the party demanded, reflected women’s growing power in state politics.   

The main objective of the convention was to build steam for the upcoming presidential election. In 1940, the Republicans were the minority party in national politics, though the momentum was shifting. Wendell Willkie, the Republican candidate for president, enjoyed his strongest support in the Midwest, but Wisconsin ultimately cast its electoral ballots for Roosevelt, helping to send him to an unprecedented third term.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on October 24, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Slur or Gentle Humor? Ethnic Dutch Postcard, 1912

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 2017.fic.974

“It iss much better to haf patches on de pants, than on de heart, vot?” In the fall of 1912, longtime La Crosse resident Marian Dorset received this postcard from a friend traveling in Moscow, Idaho. In the early twentieth century, ethnic caricatures were common in popular culture, and reflected a country that was coming to terms with its changing demography. In the 1910s, a large portion of Midwestern families had one or more members who were immigrants, and had brought the language and customs of the “Old Country” with them. Even families with multiple generations of American-born children observed ethnically distinct traditions. While ethnic caricatures were often deployed as insults intended to undermine the subject, there was also sometimes a hint of affection, as this postcard illustrates.

Postcards depicting child-like, round Dutch characters speaking in accented English were common in Iowa and Wisconsin in the 1910s. Although the Midwest had its share of Dutch immigrants, there were relatively few compared to the large numbers of German, Scandinavian, and Polish immigrants. While ethnic stereotypes of Norwegians and Germans abounded in early-twentieth-century America, perhaps the postcards’ printer felt safer caricaturing a smaller group. A caricature, after all, creates a division between “us” and “them,” which is the source of the humor, and the insult. By poking some fun at cartoonish Dutch characters, maybe the recent immigrants of the Midwest felt more like “us" and less like "them."

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on October 18, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

A Potholder - and Our Love of Automobiles

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 1990.028.06

“What America wants, America gets in a Chevy!” In 1959, Americans were deep into their love affair with the automobile. After two decades of economic depression and war, cars symbolized Americans’ hopes in the 1950s for prosperity, comfort, and a happily-ever-after. The V8 engines, “Magic-Mirror” acrylic lacquer, and tail fins were mass-produced, but seem tailored to the individual needs and desires of consumers. “The 1959 Chevrolet is more than a restyled car,” promised General Motors’ advertising. “It’s your kind of car. Shaped to reward your new taste in style.”

If you wanted to buy a Chevrolet in La Crosse in 1959, Ray Hutson Chevrolet had you covered. Located downtown at 4th and Cass Streets, the Ray Hutson dealership sold now-classics such as the Corvette, the Impala, and the Bel Air, among others. This potholder in the Historical Society’s collection suggests that Ray Hutson was a wise businessman. Most mid-century dealers focused their advertising efforts on men, but Ray Hutson understood that car-buying was a family decision. What better way to reach the family than to put an advertisement in the kitchen?

Ray and Don Hutson opened the Chevrolet dealership in 1953, and Ray Hutson operated it downtown until he moved the business to Mormon Coulee Road in 1967. His son, Mike Hutson, became president in 1983, and operated the dealership until it closed six years ago. General Motors was in a weak position going in to the 2008 economic recession, and declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 2009. As part of the corporate reorganization required by the bankruptcy code, General Motors closed over a thousand dealerships, including Ray Hutson Chevrolet, which closed in July 2009.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on October 10, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Old Style Lager and Gemutlichkeit

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 2014.014.133

La Crosse is a beer-lover’s paradise. In the nineteenth century, German immigrants like Gottlieb Heileman built ever-larger businesses that converted rich Midwestern grains into rivers of lager. G. Heileman Brewing Company, incorporated by Heileman’s widow Johanna in 1902, combined old-world techniques with new-world flavor in its signature brew: Old Style Lager. What would a dark winter night be without the warm, reassuring glow of an Old Style sign?

G. Heileman Brewing Company brought more than jobs and prestige to La Crosse; it also brought Oktoberfest. Roy Kumm, the Heileman Company CEO, was one of the four golf buddies who originally conceived the idea for Oktoberfest, and worked tirelessly to see the plan come to fruition in 1961. According to local historian Duane Moore, Kumm first used the word “gemutlichkeit” to describe the festival’s convivial atmosphere, and added Gambrinus to the Festmaster’s baton, which he carried himself when he served as Festmaster in 1964. Gambrinus, of course, was also the cheerful, bearded beer-drinker in advertisements for Heileman’s Old Style Lager.

G. Heileman Brewing Company also – literally – built Oktoberfest in the early 1960s. Before organizers secured a permanent Oktoberfest grounds, festival tents had to be set up and taken down every year. Heileman sent its employees, on the clock, to do the work.

Heileman remained a strong presence in La Crosse until the early 1990s, when the rapid consolidation of the beer industry finally overtook it. But the company’s legacy lives on at the Oktoberfest grounds.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on October 3, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Hats Off to Three Comedians

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 1997.015.01

Fred L. Kramer, president of First Federal Savings & Loan in La Crosse, evidently knew how to have a good time, judging from his top hat. A few weeks ago, we showed you this Depression-era silk top hat in profile. But pop it over and what a surprise! Big-time comedians Bud Abbott, Lou Costello, and Eddie Cantor have all signed the lining.

In the 1930s, Abbott, Costello, and Cantor were among the biggest names in comedy, and comedy was the biggest thing in entertainment, thanks to radio. Prime-time comedy radio shows, such as The Chase & Sanborn Hour, which featured Cantor, were the most prominent and highly-rated shows of the era, according to radio historian Michele Hilmes. Vaudeville performers Bud Abbott and Lou Costello had listeners in stitches with their “Who’s on First?” routine, first broadcast in March 1938 on The Kate Smith Hour.  Americans sorely needed a laugh, and the radio comedians did not disappoint.

La Crosse residents of the 1930s would have been well familiar with all three comedians, thanks to the growing affordability of radio sets like this one – a Crosley Super 8 – and increasingly reliable signal strength from radio towers near and far.

Now how did all three comedians come to sign Fred Kramer’s top hat? Did he acquire the autographs over time, or did Kramer have an epic night out on the town? The Historical Society asks anyone with information about this mystery to contact us immediately.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on September 26, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Grand Universal Lawn Mower

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 1984.029.16

Tyler Van Berkum, who recently completed his second summer internship with the La Crosse County Historical Society, gamely test-drives this human-powered Grand Universal lawn mower from the 1920s-1930s. He could testify that it still cuts grass just fine.

The five-blade mower, made entirely of wood and steel, weighs about 35 pounds and would have required significant effort to push through high grass. Blair Manufacturing Company of Massachusetts, the makers of the Grand Universal, specialized in “Self-Sharpening” and “Self-Adjusting” mowers such as this one, which were popular from the 1920s through the 1940s.

As more Americans had lawns to mow in the twentieth century, thanks to the democratization of home ownership, reliable lawn mowers were a big business. This particular mower was once the property of Oren Ernest Frazee, Chairman of the Biology Department at State Teacher’s College, now University of Wisconsin-La Crosse.

Van Berkum, a graduate of La Crescent High School, is currently a Junior at the University of Minnesota-Twin Cities, majoring in Political Science and minoring in History. His ability to “take a subject, break it down, and master it” was an asset to the Historical Society this summer according to Executive Curator Peggy Derrick, particularly regarding a large volume of unprocessed ladies’ millinery, and everyday tools like the Grand Universal lawn mower. The “information that an object can provide…is invaluable to the historical narrative,” Berkum said. Even an item as commonplace as a lawn mower has a story to tell.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on September 19, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Funke Box of Chocolates

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 1991.035.07

La Crosse was one sweet town in the early twentieth century. It boasted three candy factories by the 1920s, the biggest of which was Joseph B. Funke Candy Company, at the corner of State and Front Streets. With elaborate packaging such as this wood-burned box, it’s no wonder that Funke chocolates were well-known in this part of the country.

Joseph B. Funke, a first-generation American born in Minnesota to German-born parents, incorporated his fledgling candy company in 1890, and built a state-of-the-art plant for it in 1898. Hundreds of La Crosse residents, and particularly young women seeking economic opportunities, worked at the Funke Candy Company until it closed in 1933.

All was not smooth sailing for the Funke Candy Company. In the summer of 1900, for instance, the company “had a little trouble with some of their employees,” according to the La Crosse Tribune and Leader-Press, and 25 employees walked out. But business was brisk enough that by 1920, company president Joseph Funke could afford to live at 1419 Cass St., now popularly known as “The Castle.”

In a matter of days, the Funke Candy Company building will reopen as The Charmant Hotel, so named for Funke’s premiere line, the “Charmant Chocolates.” One wonders if visitors will receive locally made chocolates on their pillows?

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on September 12, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Nott Steam Pumper

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 1945.020.01

If La Crosse wanted to be a respectable city at the turn of the twentieth century, it had to have a steam pumper fire engine. Any city that aspired to greatness – and particularly one built mostly of wood – had to have a professional fire department outfitted with the newest equipment. The city of La Crosse had established a professional, non-volunteer fire department in 1896, and by 1905 they had talked the city into purchasing this 1904 model Nott Steam Pumper for the substantial sum of $5,000.

In La Crosse prior to 1900, fire engines were not much more than horse-drawn water carts. The steam pumper, though still reliant on horse-power, was a significant innovation in firefighting, providing more power and more water. The 1904 Nott model could supply 1,000 gallons of water a minute.

The Nott Fire Engine Company of Minneapolis supplied many Midwestern states with steam pumpers in the first decade of the twentieth century. Not only were Nott steam pumpers less expensive than most on the market, but the politics of the period may have earned the company some business. The largest manufacturer in the game, the International Fire Engine Company of New York, had made no secret of its intention to become a monopoly. Nott Co. played David to the monopoly’s Goliath and survived, largely because of patronage from places like La Crosse.

The steam pumper engines had a short-lived heyday; they were all but obsolete by the 1920s thanks to gasoline-powered engines. La Crosse’s 1904 model was most likely out of service about ten years later. The city’s steam pumper lived on, however, in special ceremonies. “Two dandy draft horses” pulled it in the 1962 Maple Leaf Parade, for example, but only after Robert A. Farnam, then-president of the La Crosse County Historical Society, gave it a “full-fledged test” by firing up the boiler. It remains in the collection of the La Crosse County Historical Society, patiently awaiting its next chance to get fired up.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on September 5, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Festmaster Donald Rice's Lederhosen

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 2004.020.01

We got a whiff of autumn this week: chilly mornings, crisp afternoons, and school buses. Obviously, it’s time to talk about lederhosen.

La Crosse has an annual celebration of fall called “Oktoberfest.” You may have heard of it. For several days in late September or early October, the residents of this city – and quite a few residents of other cities – come together for parades, brats, and Gemutlichkeit. In 1962, the Festmaster, Don Rice, wore these lederhosen as he offered ein Prosit.

Lederhosen, loosely meaning “leather breeches,” were popular in nineteenth-century Bavaria, and live on through annual celebrations of all things German. Peggy Derrick, Executive Curator of the La Crosse County Historical Society, notes that the Festmaster’s breeches are more rightfully “baumwollenhosen,” as they are made out of cotton and not leather. Try saying it with a straight face.

In a special ceremony at the beginning of the 1962 Oktoberfest, Rice was appointed Festmaster as an acknowledgment of his decades of good deeds and hard work. In 1979, a La Crosse Tribune reporter described him as a Horatio Alger figure in La Crosse: a man who had pulled himself up by his bootstraps. He had begun his career as a messenger for the Exchange State Bank in North La Crosse, and had become its vice president by the time of his selection as Festmaster. The following year, he became the bank's president.

Rice was one of four golf buddies who conceived the idea and staged the first ‘fest in 1961, and it was fitting that he and wife Berdina reigned over the second one. Not all men look good in lederhosen, but Rice cut a sharp figure, so perhaps there were other considerations as well.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on August 29, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Top Hats and Plugs

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 2004.040.01   

Nothing says “special occasion” like a silk top hat; particularly one from the fashionable New York firm Rogers, Peet & Company. La Crosse resident and businessman Fred Kramer wore this hat as a member of the “La Crosse Plugs,” a men’s social organization committed to boosting La Crosse’s business interests. The club had been around as early as the 1870s, but had gone dormant by the early twentieth century. Several businessmen and public servants rebooted it in 1932, including Fred Kramer.

When in action, the Plugs dressed with excessive formality: top hats, coat-tails, and canes. The uniform was meant to grab attention, show respect to visitors, and give an impression of general prosperity. The Plugs’ self-professed purpose was to “boost the city,” but members made it clear in their founding documents that they also planned to include “rip-roaring-snorting comedy” and “fun-making” on occasion.  The uniform did both at once.

Circumstantial evidence suggests Kramer and his top hat made the trip to Rochester on August 8, 1934, to meet President Franklin Delano Roosevelt and make him a member of the Plugs, too. The Plugs set out in the morning, in full “black and white uniform,” on a special train with a couple hundred of their friends, including the drum and bugle corps of post No. 52 of the American Legion. They marched in a parade, greeted the President with appropriate elegance, and showed up in the background of the newsreels.  In the words of the Chicago Tribune, the Plugs generally “evoked admiration” from those assembled. They even succeeded in making the President a member, through the efforts of Wisconsin governor A.G. Schmedeman. Not bad, for a small-town booster club.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on August 22, 2015. 

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.

Captain Midnight and the Secret Squadron

Caroline C. Morris

Catalog Number: 1984.100.06 

Before we had dozens of electronic devices to entertain us, we had just one: radio.  In the 1930s and 1940s, radio became America’s first true mass medium, bringing the same programs to everyone across the country.  For the first time in history, the people of La Crosse could listen to the President from their living rooms. Housewives in Manhattan and housewives in Onalaska wrote down the same recipes from the same cooking shows. Farmers in the Driftless region and steel workers in Pennsylvania all laughed at Jack Benny’s jokes. And children from California to Florida all followed the adventures of the same superheroes. Radio gave Americans something in common with one another, and the voices that came out of the box had an outsized effect on American life.

“Captaaaaaaaain Midnight!” [ZOOM!] was a signature hero of 1940s radio, and both kids and adults listened in as the flying ace flew all over the world, solving mysteries and giving bad guys what they deserved. Ovaltine brought the show to the airwaves from 1940-1949, having dropped its sponsorship of Little Orphan Annie in favor of a crime-fighting aviator with vaguely military credentials who felt more in keeping with the times than a scrappy hard-times orphan. La Crosse kids could listen to the 15-minute program at 5:45PM Monday through Friday.  If they drank a lot of Ovaltine and mailed the labels to corporate headquarters, they could order a secret decoder ring, or a shiny new copy of Captain Midnight and the Secret Squadron.

Ovaltine’s hunch was correct; Captain Midnight was perfect for the 1940s. Months before December 1941, Captain Midnight uncovered a Japanese plot to bomb Pearl Harbor. The notion was so ridiculous at the time that it could only happen on a children’s radio program. After America entered the war following the real attack on Pearl Harbor, Captain Midnight began going after evil Axis conspirators in addition to the usual gangsters.

Looking for a quick thrill this weekend?  Old Captain Midnight episodes are just a google search away.  Cue one up, close your eyes, and hang on for dear life.

This article was originally published in the La Crosse Tribune on August 15, 2015.

This object can be viewed in our online collections database by clicking here.