Tunbridge Scandinavian Evangelical Lutheran Church is in Pierce County, about five miles west of Rugby, North Dakota, or ten miles west of another place we recently visited, Meyer Township School #1.
This church is particularly beautiful, and you can see it from US Highway 2 if you find yourself traveling in the area. I’ve driven by it a dozen times and always said “I’ll stop next time.” This time, I finally did.
There is surprisingly little information available about this church, so if you know any of its history, please leave a comment.
What a pleasant change of pace this was. I approached the door to see what the sign said, and I was very surprised to find it read:
“Welcome to Tunbridge Scandinavian Evangelical Lutheran Church. This church was built in 1915 by Norwegian settlers to this area. No regular services were held after 1988. You are welcome to enter the church and look around. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL. Secure the door when you leave. Thank you.”
I was very grateful that the property owner took the time to make this sign, and that I was able to go inside and look around.
I pushed through the double swinging doors which led to the sanctuary and my jaw dropped. Aside from a thick coating of dust, it looked like the parishioners just walked out of this place yesterday.
Of all the pews in the church, this one in front of the piano appears to be a favorite sitting spot. I couldn’t resist the urge to plunk out the opening bars of “Let It Be.”
This church is still in such good condition, I really hope someone takes up the cause before it begins to deteriorate. The inside is largely dry, the windows are intact, and a new roof would go a long way toward extending the life of this place by decades.
After I finished photographing the main floor, I headed for the basement. The door at the bottom of the steps was unlocked, but it required a firm shove to open.
On the other side of the door, the darkened dining room. It was considerably darker than it appears in these photos, and I had to stand there for a moment to let my eyes adjust.
The fact that these items were still present and largely unbroken is emblematic of the respect with which previous visitors have treated this church. Let’s hope future visitors continue to treat this place with the same reverence.
A while back we posted a blog about the Nielsville/Cummings bridge over the Red River between Cummings, North Dakota and Nielsville, Minnesota. The bridge has deteriorated significantly and is presently closed pending replacement by a new bridge.
Max Schumacher (YouTube Channel here) recently visited and sent us an email to share the drone video he captured. It’s amazing footage of this historic Red River crossing, and it’s available in HD too, so if you have the capability, stream it to your largest TV for full effect.
Oak Park Theater in Minot has been vacant almost as long as I can remember. I was born and raised in Minot, and I attended quite a few movies in this theater as a kid. I saw Jaws here (through my fingers, because my hands were clasped over my face every time that music started…. duuuuuuh duh), the forgettable ensemble movie Earthquake, Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and most notably, Stars Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, in 1977. By the time The Empire Strikes Back hit theaters in 1980, Oak Park Theater had fallen out of favor and Cine 5 at Dakota Square Mall was the new place to see a movie. For most of my young adult life, I remember this theater, and the strip mall in the same parking lot, as a vacant, derelict facility in somewhat sad condition.
The building has been used off and on over the years since then (as a church, a pool hall, and a discount theater), but has stood largely unused of late with only the memories of locals to color the tale — remembrances of the sparkling, lighted star atop the pole out front, and lines of people stretching across the parking lot, waiting to get in. After a showing, moviegoers in the balcony could exit out the door on the south side of the building, and it was always a shock to push open the door and emerge on the metal staircase into the cool night air.
The era of the multiplex called an end to Oak Park Theater, but unlike the Empire Theater in downtown Minot (which was a paradise paved to put up a parking lot), the Oak Park Theater has managed to avoid the wrecking ball all these years, and now, nearly four decades later, this old lady might be poised for a comeback.
According to the Minot Daily News, a Minot businessman has plans to re-open the Oak Park Theater in June of 2016 after a sizeable renovation and expansion. Plans include adding a second screen, and the renovated Oak Park Theater will become a theater for discount movies, indie features, film festivals, and onscreen gaming.
Do you have memories of Oak Park Theater? Please leave a comment below.
The book, and the website, are an in-depth look at the visual landscape of the Fargo-Moorhead metro, yesterday and today, through the use of vintage photographs and postcards juxtaposed with contemporary photographs from the same locations. (Grab the slider in the photo above and drag it back and forth!)
What was the first significant building in Fargo? What did downtown Moorhead originally look like? What did North Fargo look like in the aftermath of the 1957 tornado? Landmarks lost, and local history found. Check it out!
In our quest to find lonely, out-of-the-way places to photograph, we often get recommendations from people, and many times, the coordinates of those places are just a search away. However, we’ll occasionally run across the name of a place, and when we enter the name into mapping software, the search turns up zero results. Here’s one way to find places no longer on the map.
Banks, North Dakota is shown on this Rand McNally railroad map from 1942, not far from the banks of the Missouri River, and not far from Seneschal, North Dakota, another pioneer settlement that would end up underwater after the construction of the Garrison Dam. Banks, however, was on high ground, and the location should still be dry. However, it no longer appears on the map. A search in Google Maps returns nothing for the location. Let’s use GNIS to pinpoint the location.
The United States Geological Survey maintains a database (admittedly in a somewhat dated web presentation) of most named geographic locations. If it ever had a Federally-recognized name, it is likely in this database, known as the GNIS, or Geographic Names Information System. Visit the site, and click on “Domestic Names,” as shown above, then click “Search.”
On the next page, type the name of the place you’re looking for, and select the state from the dropdown menu. Here, I’ve typed “Banks” and selected “North Dakota” from the dropdown. When you’re ready to search, click “Send Query.”
On the next page, we get three results. Watford City was originally known as Banks, so it appears in this search. However, we want to see the location of the other “town” of Banks, so we click the one designated as Banks, “Populated Place.”
At the bottom of the “Banks, Populated Place” page, take note of the geographic coordinates. That’s what we’re looking for. With your cursor, highlight the lat/long coordinates. We want to plug these in to our favorite mapping software.
I like to use Google Earth. In the upper left corner search field, paste in the coordinates from the GNIS page and click “Search.” Voila. The location of Banks, North Dakota.
In this case, it appears there’s no remnant of a town. Further research would reveal Banks was only a rural post office, located on a farm, but if we wanted to check it out, we would have the coordinates.
Using GNIS is just one way to find old places no longer on the map, and we’ll cover a few others in a future post. Do you have any tips or tricks for finding lost places? Please share in the comments.
We got an email request from someone not too long ago to do another “More North Dakota Sites You’ll Love” post (the original is here), so we’ve gathered up another handful of North Dakota-related sites you should check out.
Border Marker Project — We just discovered this one ourselves and it is really cool. The description of the Border Marker Project from their “About” page: In 1891 and 1892 the North and South Dakota state line was surveyed and marked with quartzite state line markers. Originally there were 720 of these marker placed every 1/2 mile from the Minnesota state line to the Montana border. Now less than half remain and are badly in need of restoration. It is the intent of our project to restore as many of the existing leaning markers as possible. In a few cases misplaced markers will be returned to their original location where possible. [facebook]
FMlostandfound.com — The website for FM Lost and Found is a look at the visual landscape of Fargo and Moorhead, yesterday and today, through classic postcards and vintage photographs, juxtaposed in many cases with current photographs taken from the same spot. There are plenty of ways to waste an hour on this website if Fargo and Moorhead interest you, and much more in the book. [website]
North Dakota Badlands Horse — North Dakota Badlands Horse is a non-profit dedicated to the well-being of the wild horses in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. “North Dakota Badlands Horse (NDBH) is a nonprofit made up of people from around the country and the world who are passionate about these magnificent North Dakota wild horses. We were able to save all but 8 of the 77 horses sold in 2009 and all 103 of them sold in 2015. Now that NDBH has a Partnership agreement with TRNP we are able to help capture horses using low stress herding on foot. A few excess young horses selected by park staff are removed and adopted out to pre-approved homes so that they will be able to be trained and cared for the rest of their lives.” [website] [facebook]
Travel North Dakota — The official state portal for North Dakota travel. You’ve likely seen the advertising campaign commercials starring Minot-native and Hollywood actor Josh Duhamel, and the website is loaded with ideas for fun North Dakota travel excursions, plus accommodations and more. [website] [Facebook]
Preservation North Dakota — If you’ve been a GND fan for any length of time, you know we support Preservation North Dakota and the good work they do to assist in the restoration and preservation of North Dakota’s historic places. Their website has been redesigned since we last checked-in, so check it out. [website] [Facebook]
The Minot Voice — The Minot Voice is a frequently updated feed of North Dakota stories and sites. The Minot Voice is sometimes politics- heavy, but the site encompasses everything North Dakota-related, and you’ll occasionally see Ghosts of North Dakota articles pop-up on the Minot Voice, too. [website] [facebook]
Do you know of an interesting North Dakota-related site or community? Let us know about it in the comments.
One of the more helpful techniques we’ve used in finding abandoned and out-of-the-way places to photograph is examining old maps. Abandonment frequently happens in the name of “progress.” When a highway was expanded, it frequently left places to wither. Similarly, the Garrison Dam project forced the abandonment of numerous places, like Sanish and Elbowoods (to name a few), and prompted the demolition of bridges and the abandonment of highways.
We recently found this Rand McNally World Atlas page that shows North Dakota in 1942, before the Interstates (actually, no roads are shown on this map, railroads only) and before Garrison Dam created Lake Sakakawea, and it’s fascinating. There are towns that no longer appear on the map, as well as some places that we’ve been planning to visit. Hopefully, we’ll have pictures of some of those places for you this summer. Until then, enjoy the map. Click on it to enlarge.
We’ve all heard the stories from our parents and grandparents about having to walk to school with no shoes, uphill (both ways), and there’s certainly an air of humorous exaggeration in many of those tales, but not too much exaggeration. The truth is, daily existence as a pioneer on the prairie was a hard life, and the people who came to the northern plains were taking their lives in their hands, and facing dangers we can scarcely imagine today. Yes, we have our own challenges today, but take a moment to imagine living on the frontier when there were no antibiotics, or in a small city when there wasn’t a fire hydrant on every corner. At risk of sounding morbid, examining some of the terrible fates our ancestors so frequently faced helps us understand and appreciate the sacrifices they made so we could have a better life.
The idea for this post came to me as I read “With Affection, Marten” by Richard K. Hofstrand, a partly fictionalized chronicle of his ancestor Marten Hofstrand’s experience as an immigrant from Sweden who became a settler in the area of Brinsmade, North Dakota. The portion of the book dealing with the death of one of the Hofstrand children from tetanus was horrifying. A tightening of the muscles in the back caused the boy to literally bend over backwards, his hands clenched to his chest. His jaw locked, and eventually, respiration stopped. The Hofstrand boy’s only misfortune had been to step on a rusty rail. It was a simple mistake that resulted in an illness that could not be reversed with the technology of the day. It was a terrible fate for a tiny misstep.
The harsh prairie winters on the northern plains claimed victims every year. Animals needed to be tended, and someone had to get water from the well, or get wood from the pile. People did not always have the luxury of simply staying inside until the storm blew over. After a terrible series of blizzards in January of 1888, the Springfield Daily Republic reported on deaths in Dakota Territory. “Near Raymond, Dakota, two sons of WILLIAM DRIVER were frozen to death within a few feet of their barn. CHARLES HEATH is missing, and J. H. CLAPP has been discovered badly frozen, he having been out all night wandering upon the prairie. JAMES SMITH and two sons, aged 15 and 7, started for a load of hay six miles north from Minot, Dakota, on the 11th, and have not since been heard from.”
Sister Jeanne d’ Arc Kilwein, who once taught at the school in Haymarsh, North Dakota, related a story about how she and another sister tied themselves together with rope to avoid getting lost in the snow when they had to go to the well in a snowstorm. They made it back safely and had a good laugh about it, but in truth, going out in a blizzard was a dangerous undertaking that sometimes had to be done, and sometimes people paid with their lives.
In the days before electricity was widespread, fires were commonplace, partly due to the use of candles, oil lamps, and gas lighting, and partly due to the all-wood construction of so many pioneer-era structures. Much of the city of Fargo was destroyed in a fire in 1893, and firefighter W.H. Johnson died soon after from burns he sustained fighting the fire. Bismarck also suffered a devastating fire in 1898.
In 1899, just across the river from Fargo, in Moorhead, Minnesota, a former policeman was killed. The Fargo Forum and Daily Republican reported on February 18th, 1899, “Moorhead is in gloom over the tragic death of Sandy McLean last night. A fire broke out just before midnight at the residence of John Hokstad […] McLean attempted to pass between the burning house and that of Mrs. Nelson when the chimney toppled over and a mass of bricks struck him on the top of the head, causing instant death.”
One of the most tragic examples of death by fire involves the deaths of a schoolteacher and six pupils near Belfield, North Dakota, in 1914. 22 year-old schoolteacher Gladys Hollister and six of her students died when a wind-whipped prairie fire caught them in the open. The Bismarck Daily Tribune reported Hollister and the six students ran from their country school and attempted to reach a plowed field when they saw the fire approaching. They were overtaken by the fire less than seventy feet from safety. In a tragic twist of fate, the thirty mile per hour winds fanned the flames with such force that the fire raced by the school without consuming it. If they had just stayed in the school, they would have survived. The Tribune reported, “Miss HOLLISTER, who was in a most pitiable condition, with 90 percent of the skin of her body burned, was unconscious, but regained consciousness long enough to say that she realized she made a mistake in leaving the school house, but did what she thought was best.”
Sometimes referred to as consumption in the early days, tuberculosis was a real danger in the pioneer era, before antibiotics made the disease manageable. The disease affected the lungs and was typified by an infectious cough that spread the bacteria easily through the air. Treatment often involved fresh air and quarantine at tuberculosis sanatoriums, and North Dakota was home to just such a facility, San Haven Sanatorium, near Dunseith, in the Turtle Mountains. More barbaric treatments, like intentionally collapsing a lung, were sometimes ordered. Photos taken by Nora Thingvold, a nurse who worked at San Haven in the 30s, and the first person account of Mary, a ten year old girl who was a patient in the 1960s, tell the tale better than I can.
Vigilante justice was a reality on the prairie, and lynchings happened. Deserved or not, Charles Bannon was lynched on a cold January night in 1931, in the tiny town of Schafer. When the Haven family stopped picking up their mail, and debts went unpaid, McKenzie County Sheriff C. A. Jacobson went to the Haven homestead to investigate. There he found Bannon living in their home, and claiming to have dropped them off at the train station, where they had left for Oregon. The Haven’s bodies were later discovered on the farm and Bannon charged with the crime. On January 29th, 1931, a lynch mob, fearing that Bannon would be taken from McKenzie County and escape justice, broke down the door on his tiny Schafer jail cell, and took him to the bridge over Cherry Creek. In 2005, the Bismarck Tribune reported, “They tied Bannon’s hands behind his back, tied the hangman’s noose around his neck and the other end to the bridge railing. The men lifted him to the railing and yelled at him to jump. Charles Bannon’s last words, it’s said, were ‘You boys started this, you will have to finish this.'” He was found at 2:30 am by the Watford City Police Chief, still hanging from the bridge. He was the last recorded person to be strung up by vigilantes in North Dakota.
Although we like to remember “the old days” as a simpler time, where things were “better” and people more good-natured, the truth is, there were still evildoers, just like today. One such bad guy was responsible for the death of seven members of the Jacob Wolf family, and a chore boy, Jacob Hofer, on April 22nd, 1920. All the victims were killed with shotgun blasts, except the youngest Wolf girl who was murdered with a hatchet. Baby Emma Wolf was the only survivor. All told, it is considered the worst mass-murder in North Dakota history. The Wolf’s neighbor, Henry Layer, was tried, convicted, and died in prison, but many believe the police, and politicians eager to further their careers with a conviction, condemned the wrong man.
Death by Horse
I consulted our friend Derek Dahlsad, who runs the excellent Dakota Death Trip blog[Facebook here], and he reminded me that simply living in the age of horse and wagon forced our ancestors to risk death every day, simply by riding in a wagon or tending to the horses. “The driver falling out of a moving vehicle and being run over by it happened a lot — and seeing that these are horse drawn vehicles, it’s not like a car accident, where the car goes off the road and crashes when the driver is gone, but when you’ve got horses running the machine then they’re just going to continue on to wherever they’re headed towards; likely the dead body is found on open prairie and the horses are at home, or the horses and plow are waiting at the end of the field for instructions on how to turn around and the body is in the furrows.” In one gruesome example, aWhite Rock, South Dakota man died in 1906 when he wasdragged by a horse-drawn wagon. In another more common circumstance, a Fort Rice, North Dakota man died after he waskicked by a horse.
After horses, trains were the primary means of transportation for nearly fifty years for settlers on the prairie, and trains also posed a danger to their passengers. The Williston Graphic reported in April 18th, 1907, “The Great Northern palatial coast train, Oriental Limited No. 1, running at a rate of thirty five miles an hour, was ditched at 1:23 a.m. three quarters of a mile east of Bartlett, N.D., and eleven passengers were killed and twelve seriously injured as a result. With the exception of the Pullman sleeper and the observation car, the entire train consisting of eight coaches was completely destroyed by fire which was started immediately after the passenger train left the track. The ten unknown passengers killed were burned to death in the wreckage before their bodies could be rescued.”
Have you heard stories about the dangers your family faced in life as settlers on the prairie? Please leave a comment.
One of the things we’ve always loved about photographing North Dakota’s abandoned places and roadside attractions is that it feels like an alternative form of tourism–that is to say, most of these places are interesting and fun to visit, but there are generally no crowds and no admission fees. However, when you have the kids in the car, or Grandma and Grandpa tagging along on a day trip, sometimes you need something a little more family friendly, with fewer rusty nails to step on (and cheap is always good). So, gas up the family truckster. Here are eleven North Dakota attractions you can visit for free.
The original Fort Abercrombie was constructed in 1858, and it was the first military settlement in what would become North Dakota. Fort Abercrombie is a relic of the first transportation boom in the Dakota Territory — riverboats. Before the railroads, riverboats were one of the most efficient means of hauling cargo, and the Red River became a highway between Fort Abercrombie and Winnipeg. Two reconstructed blockhouses and the original guard house now reside at The Fort Abercrombie State Historic Site. Fort Abercrombie is right on the Red River, about forty minutes south of Fargo.
Gingras Trading Post
Gingras Trading Post is northeast of Walhalla about four miles from the Canadian border. The trading post was established in 1801 as a center of commerce on a sometimes hostile frontier. According to the State Historical Society: The buildings at Gingras State Historic Site are the oldest standing structures in North Dakota. They have been restored to their original appearance by the State Historical Society of North Dakota.
Cartwright Tunnel and Fairview Lift Bridge
Cartwright Tunnel and Fairview Lift Bridge, in McKenzie County, just a short drive southwest of Williston, is a two-for-one attraction–a lift bridge on the Yellowstone River (which was only raised one time), and North Dakota’s only railroad tunnel. Both have now been converted to tourist attractions, and are free to explore. Bonus: on a hot summer day, the Cartwright Tunnel features natural air-conditioning in a pitch black and blissfully cool tunnel.
Dakota Thunder and Frontier Village
Dakota Thunder, in Jamestown, is billed as the World’s Largest Buffalo. It’s a concrete statue of a North American Bison which stands at the east end of Frontier Village, a replica frontier town with actual buildings from places around the state. It’s free to get in, and for a few extra bucks, you can visit the National Buffalo Museum which is also on-site.
Standing Rock Hill Historic Site
Standing Rock Hill Historic Site, not to be confused with Standing Rock Reservation much further to the west, is a scenic and sacred site south of Kathryn and west of Enderlin, in Ransom County. Standing Rock Hill Historic Site consists of four Native American burial mounds, the largest of which is marked with the small standing rock shown here. Getting to the site requires a fairly steep uphill drive on a minimally maintained road, and the trip should only be taken by the adventurous if the weather is bad.
White Butte is the highest point in North Dakota, in Slope County, near Amidon, and of the fifty state high points, one of only seven on private land. It’s a fairly strenuous thirty-minute hike to the summit. The property owners are known to be friendly to the climbing community as long as you’re respectful and pick up after yourself. The last time we visited, there was a porta-potty at the base, but there are no other services of any kind, and no admission fee.
Northern Pacific High Line Bridge #64
High Line Bridge is the longest railroad bridge in the state, and like the Gassman-Coulee Trestle in Minot and the Sheyenne River Bridge near Karnak, we chose to photograph it and feature it here due to the railroads’ pivotal role in settling North Dakota. High Line Bridge is in Valley City, there’s a park at the base of the bridge, and plenty of restaurants and accommodations in town. No admission fee.
Painted Canyon Visitor Center is right off the north side of Interstate 94, a few miles east of Medora. If you’re entering the Badlands from the east, this is your first chance to get a look at them from a scenic overlook, and it is amazing. While it costs a few bucks to get into Theodore Roosevelt National Park a few miles west, the Painted Canyon Overlook is free.
Jensen Cabin at Wadeson Park
Jensen Cabin, in Barnes County, was built in 1878 by Norwegian immigrant Carl Bjerke Jensen, made from hand-hewn oak. The cabin and the land were donated to the State Historical Society by the Wadeson family in 1957. This cabin was in pretty bad shape until it was restored in 1981. It’s a beautiful drive to get here if you drive the Sheyenne River Valley Scenic Byway from Valley City, and the placid and soothing Wadeson Park Spillway is right across the road. It’s a nice history lesson, and it’s free.
Gassman Coulee Trestle
Gassman Coulee Trestle is one of three very large railroad trestles we’ve photographed, the others being the High Line in Valley City and Sheyenne River Bridge near Karnak. Gassman Coulee Trestle, just west of Minot, is an attraction in the roughest sense–you can drive under it, photograph it, or just stand in awe of it, but there’s no visitor center or anything like that. It’s just a great place to be outside with your camera on a hot summer night. There was once a ski resort under this trestle, and the former ski lodge is still there, but now it’s a private residence.
The site of Old Sanish
Old Sanish lies beneath the waves of Lake Sakakawea most of the time, but sometimes, if the water is really low, you can see the remains of Old Sanish. With the water at normal levels, the ruins are submerged, but you can still visit Crow Flies High Butte, see the monument to Old Sanish which features photos of the town, and get a fantastic panorama view of Lake Sakakawea and Four Bears Bridge.
Mariah (MJ) Masilko is a talented artist and photographer, a kindred spirit who has shared a number of places with us over the years, including ghost town Stady, North Dakota, the end of the Masonic Lodge in Calvin, and others. We caught up with Mariah in between artist and mom activities, and she was kind enough to give us some insight on her work.
Q: Where do you live, and what is your connection to North Dakota?
I’m currently in South St. Paul, MN. I was born in Grand Forks, and my parents still live there. I also lived in Fargo for a short time when my first son was born in 2004, and my husband managed the Red Bear restaurant in Moorhead.
Q: What do you do for a living?
I’m a KeyCite Analyst at Thomson Reuters, the former West Publishing. I determine relationships between court cases and hook them together to help legal researchers.
Q: If I’m not mistaken, you have a connection to some places in Grand Forks that no longer exist, correct? Can you tell us about that? Does your personal connection to a place that’s gone now inspire your art?
Well I grew up in the Riverside neighborhood, and my street and the houses that were on it are now gone. I think growing up in an old neighborhood like that may have helped shape my love for old buildings, but the most important building to me was the old St. Anne’s Guest Home. It was just a few blocks from my house, a former old folks’ home and before that, a hospital. It was abandoned around 1982, and walking past this big abandoned building every day made me curious. I was 13 when I first got up the courage to go inside, and my life has never been the same since! I have always been drawn to old things and historical things, but this was when I became addicted to abandoned things. St. Anne’s isn’t technically gone – it was threatened a few times but luckily it was saved. It is no longer abandoned, and while it’s great that they’re using it and it lives on, I still miss the days of exploration and adventure, walking down those long dusty halls and finding something new every time. I look for St. Anne’s in all the places I photograph. Sometimes I see an arch or a color of paint on a wall, and it will bring me back to those old hallways and all the excitement I felt back when I was an 8th grader, poking around St. Anne’s with my Kodak Instamatic 126 camera.
Q: Tell us about some of the North Dakota places you’ve photographed. Do you have a favorite?
San Haven would have to be my favorite! I’ve been there 5 or 6 times. It’s the most creepy place I’ve ever been (and I’ve been to some creepy places!) Sadly every time I’ve gone, more things have fallen down. I last was there in 2011, and most of the buildings were in bad shape. I’d love to go again some time!
Another place I love is Sarles, because my grandparents lived there and I spent so much of my childhood in that town. So there’s an emotional connection I have to the abandoned school because my mother and all her brothers and sisters went there. That’s another building that’s in bad shape. I find it beautiful, but also sad. When I explored it with my mother she walked through the rooms, telling me about an amazing teacher who made the school more than just bricks and glass and plaster. The materials that go into a place are only part of what makes buildings – they are built for humans and the things humans do inside them shape their character as much as their physical form.
The ghost town of Charbonneau was another favorite of mine, along with Brantford, Temple, Antler, and the radar base at Fortuna. Really I have many favorites – there are so many beautiful lonely places in North Dakota! Abandoned schools, churches, and hospitals are my favorite subjects.
Q: You have an affinity for Kirkbrides. Can you explain what a Kirkbride is and tell us why you love them?
“Kirkbride” refers to a style of asylum architecture and mental health treatment that was popular in the mid to late 19th century. It was based on the ideas of Dr. Thomas Kirkbride, who believed the mentally ill were human beings suffering from an illness which could be cured. Before then the mentally ill were kept in prisons and chained up in basements. Doctor Kirkbride came up with his design based on his theory that such illness could be cured through beauty, rational order of architecture, fresh air, sunlight, and being far away from urban centers. The building itself was part of the treatment. The Kirkbride Plan called for a central administration building with wings set back at regular intervals. Of course the moral treatment Dr. Kirkbride had envisioned never really worked out. Mental health is much more complex than that, and the institutions were victims of their own success. By the mid 20th century, overcrowding and underfunding had led to patient neglect and abuse. About 75 Kirkbride buildings were built – some are still in use today, but many were abandoned due to shifting attitudes about mental health care, the deinstitutionalization movement, and new drug treatments. They fell into disrepair and because of their size have often been deemed by cities and states to be too expensive to reuse, and most of those have been demolished. Only 34 still stand today. Many people know the negative history of mental institutions, but few also take into account the history and positive intentions of their design, and the sad fact that we’ve come full circle and ironically, more of the mentally ill are in prisons again today than are being cared for in psychiatric hospitals.
I never thought I’d get into such a thing, but when I stood next to my first Kirkbride (the one in Fergus Falls, MN, which I visited for the first time in 2006), I couldn’t put into words the intense feelings I felt next to such an immense structure with such a complicated history. I rarely have words, but I do have a camera! It’s how I say the things I don’t know how to say.
In May of 2013 I was part of a group of photographers who took on the entire Fergus Falls State Hospital in an event called “Project Kirkbride.” Now I’m involved with a new advocacy group, “Preservationworks,” which is committed to preserving the remaining Kirkbride asylums.
Q: Is there a place you want to photograph, in North Dakota or beyond, that you haven’t been to yet? Why do you want to shoot it?
In North Dakota I haven’t explored the southeast corner, so I’d love to check that area out sometime. I don’t have any specific places in mind yet. Outside of North Dakota my dream is to shoot in Pripyat and the exclusion zone around Chernobyl. It seems like the ultimate in abandoned places! A place that was vibrant and full of life one day, and a couple days later was empty, with everything left behind. A haunting reminder of a terrible tragedy.
Q: Your artistic pursuits extend beyond photography. What do you do? Any exhibitions coming up?
I paint some of the lonely, abandoned things that I photograph. I sometimes work with oils, and more recently I’ve been mostly doing watercolor. I have four young children and finding time to paint is a challenge! I’m looking for a place to exhibit at Art-A-Whirl in Northeast Minneapolis in May, and am considering applying for the Grand Cities Art Fest in June.
Q: Where can people see more of your work?
My website, www.mjmasilko.com is mostly my paintings and drawings, but has some of my photography as well. It is a work in progress, and I hope to get some more blog posts up soon about various places I’ve photographed!
Ghosts of North Dakota has been lucky over the years to make the acquaintance of a number of talented artists and photographers who share our passion for the history and austere beauty of the prairie. One of those artists is John Piepkorn, who has contributed photos of Hanks, North Dakota (population one), the Hamlet School, and the Wheelock School, among others.
John took a few minutes from a busy schedule of photography, fat tire biking, and holiday festivities to answer a few questions for us.
Q: You’re in Minnesota now, correct? Where do you live, and what is your connection to North Dakota?
I live in Minnetonka, Minnesota. I went to college in the Fargo-Moorhead area where I met my wife Ann, who grew up in Fairview, Montana, which is literally on the state line with North Dakota. We would go to my in-law’s house one or two times a year, and as a result, I have driven across the state of North Dakota too many times to count. I have always been fascinated by the abandoned farmsteads, schools and churches that dot the landscape and wanted to know the stories behind them. North Dakota is really under appreciated. I think the scenery in some parts of the state, while sometimes stark, is still beautiful.
Q: What do you do for a living?
I am a photographer for a cataloging company in Minneapolis. Our company sells aftermarket products for motorcycles, ATVs, snowmobiles and personal watercraft.
Q: Tell us about some of the North Dakota places you’ve photographed. Do you have a favorite?
There are so many really interesting places in North Dakota. It’s tough to pick just one favorite, but I would say some of the one room schoolhouses in the SW part of the state, like Griffin, or Gascoyne or Nebo or Grand River. The landscape in that part of the state really gives the images a feeling of desolation. I think it really “fits” the subject matter. When you are out there, it’s hard to imagine being a kid and attending school in a place like that.
I’m also fascinated by the abandoned churches, they were the things that were often the center of the community and anchored people to the land. Of those, I would say Hurricane Lake Church in Pierce County is on of my favorites (maybe because it has such and interesting name).
Also, not to be too long winded, there are some really beautiful grain elevators, especially the faded wooden ones like in Charbonneau, ND.
Q: Is there a place you want to photograph, in North Dakota or beyond, that you haven’t been to yet? Why do you want to shoot it?
I’ve been across the state multiple times, but I haven’t been to the NE part of the state all that much. I enjoyed the western part of the state from a photographic standpoint simply because the lack of trees makes it easier to compose my photographs. There are too many spots I have mapped out to pick just one, I want to find all these abandoned places and capture these images before the structures fall down or are torn down.
Q: What is your process for finding out-of-the-way places? Do you use mapping software? Navigation? etc…
You will eventually find some interesting spots to photograph by driving down just about any gravel road in North Dakota, but since I have a limited amount of time to be out taking photos, I try to make the most of my time. I purchased some ND DOT maps which are pretty detailed, and show the old schools and churches that I like to shoot. I cross-reference those sites with Google maps to see if the structure on the map is still standing, then try to plan out an effective route to see as much as possible in as short a time as possible. Panoramio is also a great site to find some of these out of the way places. When you are out driving around, a GPS is a necessity. Sometimes you don’t get phone service, so a Garmin or Magellan system is invaluable.
Q: Artists frequently strive to monetize their craft and achieve the dream of making art for a living. Is that something you work toward? What do you do? Any exhibitions coming up?
My goal is make enough off my photos to fund my next North Dakota photo trip. I’ve had two photo exhibitions so far featuring images of these abandoned places. I’m working on my proposal for my next one. I’ve sold a number of photos and have had images published in a number of publications.
Last summer, we had the opportunity to go back to White Butte for the first time since 2007, so we couldn’t resist the chance to go to the summit and get some GoPro video in HD.
White Butte is in Slope County, and of the fifty state high points, it is one of only seven that is on private land — North Dakota, Nebraska, Maryland, Louisiana, Kansas, Indiana and Illinois. The rest of the states’ high points lie mainly within state or national parks.
We opted not to include any narration on this one, just the beautiful view from the summit of North Dakota’s highest point.
Stream this one to your TV if you have the capability. It looks great on a big screen.
The pseudo-scientific field of cryptozoology deals with theories of creatures unknown to science, many of which have their origins in Native American lore. Stories of Sasquatch in the Pacific Northwest, and the Wendigo in Minnesota and the Great Lakes region, originated with native people. Even North Dakota has a mysterious but little-known monster.
A legend of the Dakota nation tells the story of Miniwashitu; a Missouri River monster of terrifying appearance and effect. Author Melvin Randolph Gilmore, one-time curator for the North Dakota State Historical Society, wrote about Miniwashitu in 1921.
It is said that in the long ago there was a mysterious being within the stream of the Missouri River. It was seldom seen by human beings, and was most dreadful to see. It is said that sometimes it was seen within the water in the middle of the stream, causing a redness shining like the redness of fire as it passed up the stream against the current with a terrific roaring sound.
And they say that if this dreadful being was seen by anyone in the daytime anyone who thus saw it soon after became crazy and continued restless and writhing as though in pain until he was relieved by death. And it is said that one time not a very great many years ago this frightful being was seen by a man, and he told how it appeared. He said that it was of strange form and covered all over with hair like a buffalo, but red in color; that it had only one eye in the middle of its forehead, and above that a single horn. Its backbone stood out notched and jagged like an enormous saw. As soon as the man beheld the awful sight everything became dark to him, he said. He was just able to reach home, but he lost his reason and soon after that he died.
It is said this mysterious “Miniwashitu” (water monster) still lives in the Missouri River, and that in springtime, as it moves up-stream against the current it breaks up the ice of the river. This water monster was held in awe and dread by the people.
It’s not hard to imagine the dread people felt considering the horror of the legend–a red, hairy serpent of the Missouri River, with one eye, a horn, and sharp spines along its back. Its appearance was accompanied by a terrifying roar, and it imparted blindness and insanity on anyone who saw it. Death followed soon after.
Come spring, perhaps it’s best to avert your eyes from the Missouri River, and avoid the terrible visage of the Miniwashitu.
This is part two in our series about historic North Dakota automobile bridges. In part one, we focused on Sheyenne River crossings in southeast North Dakota. This time, we’ve photographed historic steel bridges in East-Central North Dakota, on the Sheyenne, Goose, and James Rivers.
Some of these bridges are closed and abandoned, others are still in use, and one has been restored, but they will all share the same fate without human intervention, so we’ve chosen to document them here.
Norway Bridge spans the Goose River in Traill County, about halfway between Hillsboro and Mayville, North Dakota. It’s a Pratt pony truss bridge constructed by Jardine & Anderson of Fargo and Hillsboro in 1912 at a cost of about four thousand dollars. It is on the National Register of Historic Places, and is considered significant because its construction by a local contractor makes it rare considering most bridges at the time were built by larger firms like Fargo Bridge & Iron Co. and other out-of-state bridge builders.
Norway Bridge was our first stop on this trip and we arrived early in the morning, when frost was still present on the timber deck. The bridge still gets frequent use — we saw several vehicles cross just in the few minutes were were there.
Viking Bridge is the oldest documented automobile bridge still-standing in North Dakota. It was built in 1885 by C.P. Jones out of Minneapolis and originally spanned the Goose River between Mayville and Portland, but in 1915, Jardine & Anderson were hired to move this bridge to its present location, about a mile and a half northwest of Portland, North Dakota, in Traill County. It served traffic until 2006, by which time it had deteriorated to the point that it was no longer safe.
In 2010, Viking Bridge was rehabilitated by architecture and engineering firm KLJ. Today there is a informative plaque on-site detailing the bridge’s history.
Washburn Township Bridge
This abandoned Washburn Township bridge was one of our favorite destinations on this trip. It spans the Sheyenne River at a spot in Griggs County, about four and a half miles east of Cooperstown, but today it has fallen into serious disrepair. There’s a dam just a few dozen feet to the southeast of this bridge, and the sound of rushing water coupled with the beautiful location make it the perfect spot to drop a line, or just dangle your toes in the river. It’s hard to imagine how someone hasn’t led an effort to turn this into a public park yet.
Tyrol Township Bridge
This Tyrol Township bridge is in Griggs County about nine miles northeast of Cooperstown. It is built from steel supplied by the Inland Steel Company of East Chicago, Indiana, a company which existed for 105 years from 1893 to 1998, when it was absorbed by a multinational. We don’t know the year of construction or builder of this bridge, so please leave a comment if you know more.
Nesheim Township Bridge
If you were to approach this bridge from the south you would travel a road that is now barely more than a tunnel through the trees as it descends into the Sheyenne Valley.
This Nesheim Township bridge (not to be confused with “Nesheim Bridge,” which is next) is in Nelson County, just over three miles south of McVille, North Dakota.
Nesheim Bridge was built in 1904 by Fargo Bridge & Iron Company, in Nesheim Township, Nelson County, about 2 1/2 miles southwest of McVille, North Dakota. It is on the National Register of Historic Places.
Dayton Township Bridge
Dayton Township Bridge is a tiny steel bridge on the Sheyenne River in Nelson County, about 28 miles southeast of Devils Lake. It was built sometime in the 1910s by the Fargo Bridge & Iron Company.
New Rockford Bridge
The New Rockford Bridge, on the north edge of New Rockford, North Dakota in Eddy County, was once New Rockford’s main bridge across the James River. It was built by Fargo Bridge & Iron Co. in 1904. It is on the National Register of Historic Places, partly due to its Warren truss construction, which is rare in North Dakota. Unfortunately it is now closed to vehicle traffic and falling into disrepair.
We found the scenery of the marshy wetlands along this stretch of river beautiful, but we only had to look below the bridge to see bicycles dumped in the river. It would be really nice to see a rehabilitation happen here. As with several of the other closed bridges on this list, this could be a real attraction as a fishing bridge or public park if it was just given a little TLC.
If you’ve followed this site for any length of time, you know we occasionally like to photograph bridges, for a number of reasons. Sometimes it’s for their historic significance (like Caledonia and Romness Township bridges), and other times it’s because the bridge is huge and awe-inspiring, as is the case with the High Line, Karnak, and Gassman Coulee railroad trestles.
In this case, we’ve decided to photograph most of the historic automobile bridges of the Sheyenne River Valley, some abandoned but many still in use, while they still exist. Just like the structures of prairie ghost towns, these bridges are endangered by time and natural events. Floods, weather cycles, and normal wear and tear take a toll on these bridges, and without restoration, they will be gone someday. Also, it’s hard to resist the urge to go out and shoot photos when it’s sixty-some degrees in November.
Just a final note, I’ve labeled these bridges geographically, or in accordance with how I’ve seen them referenced online. If you know the official name of any of these bridges, please leave a comment.
Walcott Township Bridge
The Walcott Township bridge is in Richland County, about a mile or two south of Kindred, North Dakota, twenty miles southwest of Fargo. It is closed to all but foot traffic.
Richland County Bridge
This Richland County Bridge is along a decidedly lonely and particularly beautiful stretch of unpaved road, about two and a half miles southwest of the Walcott Township bridge shown previously, or seven and a half miles directly south of Davenport, North Dakota.
This bridge is in Richland County in the small rural community called Barrie, about eight miles southeast of Leonard, North Dakota, or twenty seven miles southwest of Fargo. Barrie Congregational Church, established in 1889, has a beautiful building just down the road from this bridge.
Shenford Township Bridge
This bridge is in Shenford Township, Ransom County, about thirteen miles northeast of Lisbon, North Dakota. As I traveled to the site, I was overcome with the ambience of the harvest as I passed farmers’ trucks lining the unpaved roads. I could see four pillars of smoke on the horizon from those who were already burning off their fields, and the smell of rich earth and smoke washed-over me.
I arrived to find a beautiful, steel bridge spanning the Sheyenne River. This bridge was built by Hewett Bridge Company sometime between 1907 and 1911. A pickup rumbled over the span while I was there and it was thunderous.
Colton’s Crossing is a 128-foot pin-connected Pratt through truss bridge, and it is on the National Register of Historic Places. The bridge was built by Hewett Bridge Company of Minneapolis in 1907. They were the main bridge contractor in Ransom County at the time, and they were also responsible for the other Ransom County bridges in this post. Colton’s Crossing is the oldest surviving through truss bridge in Ransom County.
Martinson Bridge is in Ransom County, about thirty miles south of Valley City, in the Sheyenne State Forest. This bridge was built in 1920 and has undergone substantial reconstruction and improvement over the years. Of all the bridges I visited on this day, this one was probably in the best condition.
Little Yellowstone Bridge
At the east end of the bridge — once a pleasant little roadside attraction, now vacant.
I wonder if Mindy and Nathan are still together.
This bridge is in Little Yellowstone Park, on the border of Ransom and Barnes Counties, just south of Kathryn, North Dakota.
In part two of this series we’ll be sharing more bridges in the region north of Interstate 94. To get notified when we post a new installment, drop your email in the form below.
Defining what exactly constitutes a “ghost town” can sometimes be tricky. In our years of exploring North Dakota’s abandoned places, we’ve often encountered former towns where the townsite itself is empty, but there’s a farm about half a mile down the road. Sometimes a former town like Sims, North Dakota has an active church, but nobody actually lives on the town site. And still other times, we will hear objections from people who feel as though we’ve misrepresented their town, or somehow labeled it a ghost town because it appears on this website, in which case we clarify that this site is about ghost towns and abandoned places, like the former First National Bank and Barber Auditorium in Marmarth, North Dakota, a town with a population over a hundred.
Here we’ve assembled our most strictly defined list of ghost towns in North Dakota, places where there are zero residents, and in some cases, zero remains. It’s life after people, North Dakota style.
Griffin, North Dakota
Griffin, North Dakota is a true ghost town in Bowman County, about halfway between Bowman and Rhame. It was once home to some of the largest stockyards in southwest North Dakota, and it was also a stop on one of America’s first cross-country highways–a route from Massachusetts to Seattle, marked in places by three foot stone markers painted yellow, known as the Yellowstone Trail.
Sherbrooke, North Dakota
Nobody lives in Sherbooke, North Dakota anymore, and only two homes remain standing on the town site, but there is a well-tended cemetery in the area and farms just down the road.
Bluegrass, North Dakota
Bluegrass, North Dakota, a true ghost town, population zero, in Morton County, about thirty-five miles northwest of Mandan. The railroad never came to Bluegrass, and the peak population was only twenty. Today it is a true ghost town. The former service station shown here has since burned.
Trotters, North Dakota
Trotters, North Dakota is a ghost town just outside the official boundary of the Little Missouri National Grasslands — a boundary visible only on maps. The church is still sometimes used for weddings and special events. Nobody lives here anymore.
Temple, North Dakota
Temple is a rapidly disappearing ghost town in the oil patch and we have several user contributed galleries from Nicole Simpson and Mark Johnson, featuring the church shown above and the school which no longer stands on the town site.
Freda, North Dakota
A train depot and the crumbling remains of Freda, North Dakota lie in the tall grass, nestled among the rolling green hills of Missouri River country. It’s a short drive southwest of Mandan to this true ghost town in Grant County.
Lincoln Valley, North Dakota
Lincoln Valley is one of our all-time favorite ghost towns. It’s been vacant since Joe Leintz moved out in the 1970s, and we’ve been back for a visit on several occasions. The former bar and ice cream parlor stills stands on the site, as well as several abandoned homes.
Arena, North Dakota
St. John’s Lutheran Church is the most prominent landmark in this former town. Two homes plus a small country school building that was moved into town from somewhere else are still standing in Arena.
Sims, North Dakota
Possibly the most beautiful ghost town we’ve ever been to, Sims is home to a still-active church, an abandoned home, and a cemetery on top of the hill. There are several other abandoned structures nearby, and a few inhabited farms just down the road. This photo was featured on the dustjacket of our second book.
Straubville, North Dakota
Straubville is a crumbling ruin of a ghost town, with just a handful of structures still standing and several that have collapsed.
Hesper, North Dakota
As it frequently happens, Hesper, North Dakota became a ghost town when the last resident passed away just a few years ago.
Deisem, North Dakota
This former Seventh Day Adventist Church is all that remains of Deisem, North Dakota, a rural settlement where the ruins of a general store and post office still rest in tall grass.
Nanson, North Dakota
Nanson, North Dakota might be the most remote ghost town we’ve ever visited. There are no telephone poles or power lines in the area, no residents, and four abandoned homes plus some miscellaneous outbuildings onsite.
Eastedge, North Dakota
Only the ruins of a railroad loading dock and two abandoned homes remain on the site of Eastedge. This town comes with some spooky lore provided by visitors to the site, including a claim that the last resident committed suicide, and that a gentleman was electrocuted by power lines while moving the white house which is now going through a slow motion collapse.
Stady, North Dakota
Mariah Masilko took these photographs of Stady, North Dakota, a town which we’re told has since been razed. Stady is no more.
Omemee, North Dakota
Omemee, North Dakota has only one structure still standing on the site and will soon pass into history as only a memory. Photos by Mark Johnson and Tom Tolman.
In 1936, the American economy was struggling to recover from the Great Depression. The Depression hit bottom in 1933, but the recovery was slowed in rural states by droughts and grasshopper plagues, leading to crop loss and economic hardship. In July and August of 1936, President Franklin Roosevelt toured nine drought-stricken western states, including North Dakota, to observe the conditions firsthand. In a fireside chat one month later, on September 6th, 1936, the President addressed the drought, the plight of farmers, and labor issues.
Watch the video, featuring the photos of FSA photographer Arthur Rothstein, accompanied by the first few minutes of FDR’s fireside chat.
Photos by Arthur Rothstein. Original content copyright Sonic Tremor Media LLC
April 14th, 2015 is the eightieth anniversary of Black Sunday, arguably the worst day of the Dust Bowl era. Dust storms that had plagued North America for a decade reached a terrible crescendo on that day, with dust clouds taller than the tallest buildings enveloping and blanketing Oklahoma, Texas, Colorado and many other places.
Ed and Ada Phillips of Boise City, and their six-year-old daughter, had to stop on their way to seek shelter in an abandoned adobe hut. There they joined ten other people already huddled in the two-room ruin, sitting for four hours in the dark, fearing that they would be smothered.
In his memoir, Farming the Dust Bowl, Kansas farmer Lawrence Svobida describes an approaching dust storm:
At other times a cloud is seen to be approaching from a distance of many miles. Already it has the banked appearance of a cumulus cloud, but it is black instead of white and it hangs low, seeming to hug the earth. Instead of being slow to change its form, it appears to be rolling on itself from the crest downward. As it sweeps onward, the landscape is progressively blotted out. Birds fly in terror before the storm, and only those that are strong of wing may escape. The smaller birds fly until they are exhausted, then fall to the ground, to share the fate of the thousands of jack rabbits which perish from suffocation
The northern plains states and Canadian provinces suffered from these dust storms for years, a subject we’ve covered before. The Farm Security Administration employed a number of photographers to document the effects of the Dust Bowl, and we’ve posted the work of several who photographed North Dakota, including Arthur Rothstein’s photos of Dust Bowl Grassy Butte, and The Grashhopper Plagues, plus Russell Lee’s photos in this piece.
Please take a look and take a moment to remember those affected by Black Sunday.
It is looking like an early spring this year, and you need no more evidence than these photos, taken on March 15th, 2015, in south central North Dakota.
March 15th is the earliest in the season Terry and I have ever gone out on an official shoot. Previously, the third week of April was the soonest we had ventured out.
This spring weather reminds me of the warm winter followed by the drought and heat of 2011. Let’s hope that’s not what we’re in for again this year.
The weather was so nice, we kept finding excuses to stop the car and shoot scenery stuff.
This was by far the most unexpected thing we saw all day, though. It was 75 degrees and we were in our shirtsleeves, but if you look really close, you can see a man standing on the ice in the photo above, just below the horizon on the far right. With the ice melting everywhere, he was out on the ice with a rod, fishing.
Hope you have a great spring and summer. If it turns out to be as dry as it’s looking, please practice fire safety.
Photos by Troy Larson and Terry Hinnenkamp, copyright Sonic Tremor Media LLC
In 1883, Bismarck had only been “Bismarck” for ten years, having existed first as a tiny frontier settlement called Missouri Crossing, then as Edwinton, until 1873. Bismarck assumed an important place in the history of the American west when it supplanted Yankton as the capital of Dakota Territory in 1883. Settlers were soon streaming in.
Here’s a vintage view of Bismarck circa 1883 in the form of a lithograph from the JJ Stoner Company of Madison, Wisconsin. The size of this photo is HUGE, so if you click the photo it may take a moment to load the full-size image.
Note the four landmarks in the corners — the NP Bridge across the Missouri, the Dakota Territory Penitentiary, Bismarck High School, and the original State Capitol. Update: In my original post, I neglected to mention that the Capitol building was not yet complete when this lithograph was done, and the building did not actually look like this when it was complete.
Like Fargo in 1893 and Chicago in 1871, Bismarck fell victim to a massive wind-whipped fire on August 8th, 1898.
As was the case with so many pioneer-era cities around the nation, Bismarck in 1898 was a city constructed largely of wood. Coupled with a frequently unrelenting prairie wind, any unusual dry spell created extraordinarily dangerous conditions.
In fact, Bismarck had dodged a bullet eight years earlier when a fire in the Spring of 1890 nearly set off an inferno downtown. The Sunday Inter Ocean newspaper in Chicago reported on March 26th, 1890:
Incendiarism at Bismarck, N. D.
Some one tried to burn up the town this morning. At 2 o’clock an incendiary started a blaze between two empty buildings, with the wind blowing sixty miles an hours. The old opera-house on Third street, the laundry building belonging to George P. Flannery of Minneapolis and the Judkins photograph gallery were burned. The sparks also set fire to two small houses two blocks distant. Only the wet roofs from the recent snows saved half of the town. About the same hour a fire was started in a lumber yard in the east end of town, but it was put out in a short time.
According to a story published in the New York Times on August 10th, 1898, the Great Bismarck Fire broke out in the Agent’s office of the Northern Pacific depot and spread to the freight warehouse. Someone raised the alarm around 9 pm, but the winds were already fanning the flames out of control.
The Bismarck Daily Tribune reported on August 9th, 1898:
“So vast a volume of smoke poured forth that in ten minutes Main Street was a stifling, blinding atmosphere in which it was difficult for firemen to breathe. A slight wind which had been in progress when the first alarm was given freshened and carried dense clouds of smoke and vast showers of sparks and firebrands northward into the principal business portion of the city. The freight warehouse, a hundred feet in length and fifth in width stored with all manner of inflammables, was in a moment a seething furnace.”
“Simultaneous with an explosion in the freight warehouse, an immense section of the roof was lifted high into the air, and the flames, which had been checked for a time, leaped forward with renewed vigor and fury.”
The fire raged out of control until midnight and smoldered until the following morning. The list of structures completely destroyed by the fire is shocking in magnitude:
First National Bank
Kuntz’s and Wan’s cigar factories
Gussner’s, Slattery’s, Kupitz’s, and Sweet’s grocery stores
Penwarden’s confectionary store
Morris’s and Braithwaithe’s shoe stores
Tribune Publishing Company
The full list is much longer, including judges’ and attorneys’ offices, restaurants and numerous other stores. According to the New York Times story, every drug store in the city burned, most of the grocery stores, two newspapers, and even some residences. People were homeless. Wired communications were also disrupted for a time and Western Union struggled to continue operating. According to the Tribune story, communications were so poor that Mandan Fire Departments weren’t able to respond until local residents noticed the glow of the fire on the horizon, by which time it was much too late.
Like Chicago and Fargo, Bismarck would be rebuilt bigger and better in brick and stone.
On the rebirth of the city, Randy Hoffmann says:
The Fire of 1898 helped propel Bismarck from its shantytown frontier roots. Rising from its ashes, the seed for a modern city would soon sprout, one better suited for meeting the needs of a major economic and government hub. Bismarck saw its rebirth.
At the time of the fire, much of Bismarck was built of wood… food for the raging fire. In response to the fire, the city enacted stricter fire codes, making way for sturdier, modern structures built mostly of brick and reinforced concrete. “Fireproof” labeling became a common advertising gimmick for the new, modern buildings.
The construction of Garrison Dam flooded the Missouri River Valley and created Lake Sakakawea, something we’ve covered before in posts about Sanish and Four Bears Bridge.We’ve photographed both a church and a home that once stood in Elbowoods — structures that were moved to higher ground to avoid the flood. …
The 1930s could be described as a perfect storm of hardship in America. The Great Depression devastated the national economy and job market, and a persistent drought compounded matters in the Midwest, contributing to the Black Blizzards of the Dust Bowl era. The skies from Texas to the Canadian plains were sometimes so dark, cities would light their streetlamps in the daytime. Crops had already failed due to the drought, causing families to relocate, businesses to close up, and populations to sink. When you dared think things couldn’t get any worse, they did.
On April 14th, 1935 — a day that would come to be known as Black Sunday — over twenty Black Blizzards raced across the plains, blackening the entire heart of the continent with clouds of dust. It was the most severe series of dust storms (dusters) yet, and Associated Press reporter Robert E. Geiger coined the term Dust Bowl that day in an article about the Black Blizzard he witnessed in Oklahoma.
In many places, a grasshopper plague followed — swarms of locusts in the millions would darken the skies as they approached, only distinguishable from a dust storm by the unique glittering appearance of their translucent silvery wings. Wherever they chose to land, they ate the crops that had survived the drought and left destruction in their wake. Grasshopper plagues had been a problem around the nation for over a decade, and reached a crescendo in the mid-thirties. Parts of Saskatchewan, Alberta, Manitoba, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Wyoming struggled with periodic Black Blizzards and grasshopper plagues for the remainder of the decade and beyond in some cases. As bad as it was on the northern plains, southern states were hardest hit.
Arthur Rothstein, a photographer for the Farm Security Administration captured the photos on this page in southwestern North Dakota in the summer of 1936. His captions are included below each photo.
Wheat field spoiled by grasshoppers plague near Beach, North Dakota
The only feed available for many cattle are the dried and grasshopper-chewed cornstalks. Near Carson, North Dakota
Trees stripped bare by drought and grasshoppers on farm near Saint Anthony, North Dakota
Grasshopper-eaten cornstalk. Grant County, North Dakota
Stripped bare by the drought and grasshoppers. Trees on the farm of Mrs. Emma Knoll. Grant County, North Dakota
John Frederick of Grant County, North Dakota, expects to get about twenty bushels of wheat off his forty acre field
Sawing down trees killed by the drought and grasshoppers plague on the farm of Mrs. Emma Knoll in Grant County, North Dakota
Vernon Evans (with his family) of Lemmon, South Dakota, near Missoula, Montana on Highway 10. Leaving grasshopper-ridden and drought-stricken area for a new start in Oregon or Washington. Expects to arrive at Yakima in time for hop picking. Live in tent. Makes about two hundred miles a day in Model T Ford
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Trees killed by drought and grasshoppers frame this farm in Grant County, North Dakota
On Theodore Roosevelt’s first trip to North Dakota in 1883, before he made Elkhorn Ranch his home, he stayed in a modest frontier cabin about seven miles south of Medora at Chimney Butte. It was still the Dakota Territory then and the future President was bolstering his rawhide credentials. The National Park Service has a nice page on the cabin here.
Above, the Maltese Cross Cabin at Chimney Butte, circa 1904, photo by Jospeh Kitchin. The cabin originally had a steep, pitched roof but according to a report by the Historic American Buildings Survey, it underwent structural changes in 1884 or ’85 and again in 1897 or ’98. Other modifications to the cabin are also visible in the photo above. You can make out the timbers that were used to patch the doorway in the wall. Compare to the photo at the bottom… the door has been restored today.
During Theodore Roosevelt’s Presidency, the Maltese Cross Cabin began touring the country. It is shown here at the 1904 World’s Fair in St. Louis and it was also shown at the Portland World’s Fair the following year.
After traveling the country, the Maltese Cross Cabin came back to North Dakota and resided at what was then the State Fairgrounds in Fargo for a couple years before moving to the grounds of the State Capitol in Bismarck.
Above, the Maltese Cross Cabin when it was at the State Capitol in Bismarck, approximately 1909 to 1959.
Today, the Maltese Cross Cabin stands behind the visitor center at the entrance to Theodore Roosevelt National Park in Medora and the original pitched roof has been recreated. Admission is free, there are guided tours and a very talented Theodore Roosevelt impersonator.
Russell Lee was a trained chemical engineer who passed on a career in the field in favor of art. He is best known for the incredible number of photographs he took during the Dust Bowl for the Farm Security Administration. Mr. Lee spent a good portion of 1937 in North Dakota photographing families, farms and cities, too.
The photos below are just a small sampling of Mr. Lee’s work. He left a vast collection of photos of American culture in the 30s and 40s, and we were lucky to have his camera trained on us for a time.
Abandoned garage on Highway Number 2. Western North Dakota. 1937
After a dust storm. Williston, North Dakota. 1937
Sod post office. Grassy Butte, North Dakota. 1937
Sod house. McKenzie County, North Dakota. 1937
Corner of sodhouse. Williams County, North Dakota. 1937
Photos by Russell Lee, Farm Security Administration, in 1937
Original content copyright Sonic Tremor Media LLC
The rise of Devils Lake has been a strong contributing factor to the abandonment happening in towns like Church’s Ferry and Minnewaukan, but also on hundreds of individual farms and properties all around the lake. We’ve shown you some views of the inundation in the past, including the Harmon home and a satellite view of the lake.
Now, if you have a free hour, please enjoy Prairie Public Television’s Mother Nature in Charge: Devils Lake The Dilemma. It’s a very informative hour on the unique challenges posed by Devils Lake. At the time this aired in January of 2013, 30-thousand acres of land had been reclaimed from Devils Lake which hit a record high water level in June 2011. It remains to be seen whether the battle has been won.
In part one, Mary, a former patient at San Haven Sanatorium, detailed her arrival at San Haven and the circumstances that led to her spending five months in the facility in 1963. Eventually this ten-year-old from Carrington settled into her time at this massive hospital and learned how to keep herself safe.
We never wandered the halls unless we told the nurses where we were going so I did not associate with too many more of the residents. We knew there were men on the other hallway because we were never allowed on that end. We had to tell them when we wanted to go to the bathroom because we shared the bathroom with all the ladies on end of the hall. As I told you before, no shower, just a bathtub, two stools and two sinks. Sometimes when I went to the bathroom I would see blood in the sinks.…
This website is a constant reminder of how things change over time, those reminders frequently coming in the form of a photograph that shows a crumbling structure, a little less stout than when we last photographed it. Sometimes though, the reminders come in the form of a story, an email from a visitor. In this case, we received an email from a former ten-year-old patient at San Haven Sanatorium and we’re reminded that sometimes it’s a change in our culture which leads to abandonment. …
There is a concentration of vanishing places in the lands surrounding Devils Lake — places like Hamar, Grand Harbor, and the remains of a ski jump. In the last few decades, Devils Lake has risen steadily and has driven even more people from their homes and farms, and inundated numerous roads and highways.
Our first experience with the Rise of Devils Lake however came in 2005 when we posted the photos of the Harmon residence shown on this page, just before it succumbed to the rising lake. We ended up using that photo in our first book, accompanied by the comments of Gail Biby, who grew up there. These photos represent the rest of the batch that we shot from the shoulder of that then-busy highway which has since been raised and relocated.
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This was once the road to the casino, but it washed out.