Apr 7 – First, Chop Up a Swede

Because I’ve learned that I’m in the land of Cornish pasties, I decided to try making some.  I started looking online for a basic, traditional recipe, and was stumped to see several of them starting off with:

“1 Swede, chopped”.

What could this possibly mean?

I’ve been soaking up Scandinavian history ever since I entered Minnesota (Norwegians), then a friend persuaded me to start taking Swedish language lessons online (Duolingo), and then I discovered Finns on the U.P.  I know that Norwegians & Finns were suffering economic hardships that pushed them to emigrate, and that they resented their more prosperous Swedish neighbors.  But nothing I ever read hinted at cannibalism there.  And these pasties are Cornish, after all.

After some research, I learned that a “swede” is a rutabaga, since it was originally a Swedish turnip.  In old Swedish it was a “rotabagge”, from rot (root) + bagge (short, stumpy object; probably related to bag).  When the root vegetable was introduced to the English, they refused to adopt its Swedish name, and instead called it a “Swedish turnip”, then shortened that to “swede”.  The Scots also shortened “turnip” to “neep”.  When Scandinavians immigrated to the Upper Midwest, however, they brought with them the older term, so that in North America this vegetable is called “rutabaga”. 

I’ve always been interested in root vegetables, but haven’t eaten them very much, so this would be a good chance to experiment.  The recipes called for only 1 rutabaga & 2 potatoes, so the flavor of the swede wasn’t likely to overwhelm the other ingredients.  I went to the local roadside produce market to find the perfect swede to chop up.

Two potatoes, a rutabaga, and an onion produced an enormous bowlful of chopped cubes!  Exhausted & panicky, I ran out to buy more meat & pie crust pastry.  I threw over any concerns about an authentic balance of meat & roots, since I wanted them to look like the restaurant-made specimens I had seen online.  So now my mixing bowl was overflowing with ingredients, and I started constructing pasties.

The recommended size I found for a circle of pasty pastry was “a dinner plate”.  This is roughly the same as a pie crust circle, but I thought that the half-circle pasty that it produced would be unwieldy for a handheld entrée.  I cut each pie crust in half, then rolled it into a slightly rounder shape and cut off the sharper points.  Spoon the filling onto half of it, brush the edges with egg, fold over.  The crimping/folding/rolling process felt very natural in my hands, and turned out well! 

homemade pasties

Pierce the tops with a fork, brush with egg, bake.  Beautiful!

After making 8 of these pasties (and one more scrappy one from the cut-off pointy bits of pastry) I still had more than enough filling for a 9-inch pie.  And not enough energy to do more pasty construction.  One more trip to the grocery store, fill the crust & cover, crimp & bake.  Definitely not enough energy left over for kitchen cleanup!

The pasties & the pie were delicious hot out of the oven.  Pasties are such fun to eat! 

Recommended: black pepper

I’m left wondering about seasonings.  All of the recipes said “salt & pepper to taste”.  I know that modern American tastes enjoy much more salt & pepper than was traditional.  (Some recipes said lightly peppered & some said highly peppered.)  I tried to season the pasties moderately.  Some recipes called for “a dash of nutmeg”.  Within this massive mound of filling, a ¼ teaspoon of nutmeg got lost. 

Lastly, for the whole pie I added some Worcestershire sauce.  (Hey, I was tired & it’s sort of British-y, right?)  It added salt, but not much else that I noticed.  I was left wanting more flavor.  I guess I’m ready to try a more Americanized version, and I’d like to cook in a shared kitchen to make this process into a cooperative experience.  I wonder what else I can do with a rutabaga?

Watton, Michigan

1,966 miles

Apr 6 – “A place by the lake”.  This seems to be symbolic of what everyone wants.  A private refuge from stressful busy-ness, to get away for a while, with calm water to gaze at and float on.

The village of Watton was a stop on the Duluth, South Shore, and Atlantic Railroad.  It was a Finnish village, established in 1903.

Trout Creek, Michigan

1,952 miles

Apr 5 – Trout Creek Township Park is a delightful stopover spot, and overnight campers are welcome.  The land surrounds an old mill pond where a sawmill was in operation from 1921 to 1968.  The steam engine and big flywheel that provided the power to the sawmill have been painted and set on a foundation for display.  I imagine that children climb on these impressive relics.

The park features a picnic shelter and tables, a log pavilion, two foot bridges, rest rooms, and a monument honoring soldiers in all wars.   The Civic Improvement Committee obtained a large flag which had flown over the State Capitol. The log pavilion was hand-built by a Porcupine Mountain Folk School class.

making beeswax candles in birch bark rings

The Porcupine Mountains Folk School is located in the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park, northwest of here, very near Lake Superior.  The folk school offers hands-on classes to inspire creativity, lifelong learning, and appreciation of the natural environment and cultural heritage of the region. 

park info: http://lynn.boston-baden.com/lvb/tc/entrtnmt.htm

image:  Google Street Views

folk school:  http://porkies.org/folk-school/

Apr 4 – Scanning & Transcribing Documents

Rutland Daily Herald
January 3, 1868

I’m exploring the limits of online historical research.  I’m learning about the terrifying events in 1868 Rutland that may have kept Hattie from returning to Rutland High School after Christmas for the winter term.  I’ve read summaries of the events, but the Rutland Daily Herald published a detailed story, and I want to read that. 

I found a version online that uses technology to scan and transcribe printed text into a word document, rather than an image.  I remember trying to use a primitive version of this in 1996, but the text rendered was completely unintelligible.  This newspaper article was “scanned” in 2014, so the technology should be greatly improved, but the result is terrible.  The text is clear but the meaning is gibberish.  And yet, there is some sense to it…  If the text-reading program reads “m” and consistently turns it into “iii”, some sense can be discerned in the narrative. 

Mtairway which stood botwecn the .shop

and Cramton'ii main building affordi il ;

an easy moans of communication for the

fiery mon.iter, and whilo the firemen, ap-

prehending 110 dmiger in other quai'tera,

were still bnay in endeavoring to hold the

fire in clieelc in the building in wliicli it

oi'iginntcd, it had gained a firm foothold

in the main building aTid likewise eora-

nnuiicated to the building of Mr. Bailey,

which latter being constructed of wood,

afforded an easy prey to the incruaHing

fiamcs, and was quickly a heap of fjh ape-

leas ruins. 

I started trying to fix it.  It can be fun to turn gibberish into meaningful language.  But that’s a rabbit hole I could get lost in.  I could spend much too much time on this tangential pursuit.  I could wait until I can go to the Vermont historical Society archives and read the article myself.  But if this terrible version is available online, surely there might have been a history volunteer somewhere who has already parsed this text.  

So I searched for another online version of the same news story, and found a visual scan (jpg format).  The text is tiny, but I could read it!  Still, wouldn’t it be much more useful to turn the bad textual scan into a more readable version?  Yes, but I shouldn’t be using my research time for this chore.  I can move past this technical issue and proceed with writing about the real human story of Hattie in high school.

Bruce Crossing, Michigan

1,938 miles     

Apr 3 – In 1888, Donald M. Bruce owned a store at the crossing of the Duluth, South Shore and Atlantic Railway and the older Military Road.  He was also the first postmaster of a growing community at that crossroad, so he was empowered to give it his own name, calling it “Bruce’s Crossing”.  It was shortened to Bruce Crossing on August 13, 1891.

abandoned Finnish Co-Operative Hall

In the early 20^th century, many groups of Midwestern farmers got together and formed co-operatives to bypass the middlemen storekeepers who controlled prices in their towns, and the co-ops marketed their members’ farm produce.  Bruce Crossing became one of the most prosperous Finnish co-operative centers in the Upper Peninsula, with grocery and general stores, gas and oil businesses, and dairies.  One important business was a sauna stove manufacturer.  In the 1960s, there were many Finnish motels, restaurants, cafeterias, auto shops, insurance offices, hardware stores, and other stores in the local towns.

Today, Settler’s Co-Op has diversified to offer more services, including gasoline and diesel fuel self-serve pumps, a feed mill and garden center, a large sporting goods department, and full-line grocery store with a “c-store” included in the building.  (This is a new term for me.  It refers to a convenience store or mini-mart, also called a “party store” in the Midwest.)  

"Picket Pals" Snowmen and Santas

The Co-Op also offers Lottery sales, hunting & fishing licenses, stocked are fertilizers, seeds, and farm-related supplies such as gate horse tack and steel carports.  There is also a greenhouse for flowers and trees in season.  

Tin Man bird feeder

Local crafters make these Tin Men birdfeeders and decorative Picket Pals.  This is a full-service community resource. 

Nearby is the Settlers Credit Union, too.  Settlers Federal Credit Union was established in 1932 by a small group of local farmers who had a difficult time getting financing to plant their crops or feed their livestock. The original financial reports showed assets of $750.00.  Settlers now offers a full range of banking services.

info & images:  http://settlerscoop.com/

https://www.settlersfcu.com/Home_Page_2.html

History of the Finns in Michigan, by Armas Kustaa Ensio Holmio (2001)

Matchwood, Michigan

1,924 miles

Apr 2 – Ontonagon County is in the Eastern Time Zone.  This is surprising to me.  It feels wrong.  Surely, I haven’t travelled (virtually) that far from home!  Surely I’m not that close to my Vermont goal.

The population of Matchwood Township was 94 in the 2010 Federal Census, down from 115 in 2000.  It was named for the Diamond Match Company, which owned most of the pine forest it the area. The company founded the settlement in 1888 to provide for logging camps.  It was nearly destroyed by a forest fire in 1893. The community was rebuilt, only to be ruined by another fire in 1906.  A logging camp for making matches is prone to fire.  Ironic.

Living in the woods is dangerous.  As the population of rural areas decreases, wildlife can take over.  Untended farmland becomes weedy clearings amid scrubby forest.  Hunting in the upper Midwest becomes more popular than farming.  On the Upper Peninsula, wolves have been increasing, at least since the 1990s, and because they are legally protected from hunters, they provoke controversy.  Wolves in Michigan have surpassed State and Federal population recovery goals for 15 years. 

But frightening stories have been told about wolf attacks on more than 500 livestock and dogs – in just the past few years.  Wolves have entered the city of Ironwood in search of deer and been shot by wildlife officers.  How much of the scare is concocted or exaggerated to win the argument for wolf hunting? 

Farmers don’t want deer eating their crops, of course, or wolves and bears eating their cattle and household pets.  Many want to shoot predators to protect their farms.  If a farmer can prove that a predator killed livestock, the Department of Natural Resources will reimburse that farmer for the financial loss and give them protective fencing and “guard mules.”  (How does this work?  Do they guard & protect or are they meant to be sacrificed to save more valuable animals?) 

John Koski on farm with cow carcass

Records show that one farmer in Matchwood, claimed reimbursement for more cattle killed and injured than all other farmers in the years the DNR reviewed.  Information from the DNR advises:  “Do not disturb evidence until a DNR representative can investigate the site.”  But this farmer left dead cattle in the field for days, if not longer, a violation of the law and a smorgasbord that attracts wolves. He was given an electric fence by the state. The fence disappeared. He was also given three “guard mules.”  Two died, and the third one had to be removed in January because it had been kept in such poor condition.  Wildlife officers again found dead cattle on his farm, and visiting reporters also saw a months-old cow carcass in an open barn.  The farmer has received $38,000 from the state to pay for his cattle losses, plus $3,000 for the mules and fence.  That’s more than all other farmers combined.  It looks very much like this farmer has used his cattle as wolf bait and has defrauded the State.  This Matchwood farmer has never been cited, nor is the state seeking restitution for the fence or mules.

In 2012, wolves in Michigan were removed from the Federal List of Threatened and Endangered Species. On two separate occasions, once in 2012 and again in 2013, wolves were classified as game animals in Michigan.  The laws that allowed these classifications were repealed by public referendum in November of 2014.  However, in August of 2014, other citizen-initiated legislation again classified wolves as game animals and gave the DNR authority to declare a hunting season. 

Licenses for the March 2015 wolf hunting season sold out in six days, 1,200 in all.  Forty-three wolves were shot in three Upper Peninsula zones where officials say they have caused the most problems.

But now the DNR has once again declared wolves to be a protected species.  “CAUTION:  Wolves are protected under state and federal law.  It is illegal to harm or kill a wolf, except in defense of human life.  Private citizens are not allowed to kill a wolf during or after an attack on livestock or pets.”

It seems to me that during the period of settlement, 100 years ago, when society’s goals were to develop agriculture and towns in the wilderness, that wolf hunting to extinction was an accepted part of that civic development.  Now the process seems to be a devolution of the land back to a more primitive state, with more respect for the wilderness as a place to visit from the comfort of safe cities and suburbs.  But many modern people expect suburban safety for themselves and their pets, even when they venture into the wild.  More conflicts are sure to come.

info:  http://earthfirstjournal.org/newswire/2013/11/16/michigans-wolf-hunt-how-half-truths-falsehoods-and-one-farmer-distorted-reasons-for-historic-hunt/

http://www.michigan.gov/documents/dnr/wolf_management_plan_492568_7.pdf

https://www.michigan.gov/documents/Brochure_Did_Predator_Kill_Livestock_165508_7.pdf

images:  http://nowolfhaters.blogspot.com/p/michigan-wolves-actions-news.html

http://www.timberwolfinformation.org/mi-michigan-wolf-hunt-from-pup-to-aging-adults-new-details-break-down-the-hunt/

April 1 - Rutland Jailhouse Fire 1867

April 1 – Hattie Blakely wrote home to her parents on Nov 5^th, 1867:

   Perhaps you will wonder at my writing in class.  The reason is that I have a little more leisure than usal on account of the fire this afternoon.

Later in the same letter she wrote to her 9-year-old brother: 

            Dear Brother Herbie

                                                                       

            Perhaps you would like me to tell you about the fire at the jail this afternoon. 

The Rutland County Jail, built circa 1812, was located at 43 S. Main St.   In an article for the Rutland Historical Society Quarterly, Paul J. Grossman described the building:

“Constructed of rough blocks of marble, this jail consisted of eight rooms, four below and four above. The two front rooms on the lower floor were used for parlors and a hearing room. Two dungeons, one above the other, with marble walls several feet thick and lined with boiler iron were located in the southwest corner. The upper southeast room housed female prisoners.  In 1857 a 50- foot-long by 30-foot-wide marble extension was added to the west end of the jail.  The new section housed two rows of cells to accommodate 30 additional prisoners.”

Grossman’s article tells this story about the jailhouse fire:

“In 1867 the Rutland County Jail caught fire. As prisoners were being evacuated it was noted that O.B. Clark, a celebrated forger and considered to be one of the most dangerous men in the country, was still confined in the upper cell. Clark was saved from certain death due to the heroic rescue efforts of three individuals who crawled upstairs through blinding smoke, unlocked the cell, and released him.”

Here’s the rest of Hattie’s account:

It was nearly time for recess when the alarm of fire was given.  We went down to it.  I saw the prisoners as they were led away.  Someone said the murderer said he would rather stay in the jail.  When I came away, it was nearly extinguished.

           

Hattie and her classmates heard about a notorious criminal in the upstairs cell, and believed that he was a murderer.  In fact, it seems unlikely that a mere forger would have been “considered to be one of the most dangerous men in the country”.  Both versions of this dramatic story show him being ungrateful for the heroic rescue effort.  The man may have been more afraid of an agitated crowd than of asphyxiation in his ironclad cell.

I’d like to see the newspaper accounts of this incident to see if there’s any more detail available.  Hattie offers the story to her little brother because she knows how much he enjoys excitement, but the incident does not hold any lasting importance in her life.  We have no indication that she developed a fascination with fire or criminals or heroic firemen.

info:  Grossman, Paul J., Jr., Rutland Vermont Jails 1784-2000, Rutland Historical Society Quarterly (2000).
Nickwackett Fire Station image:  http://www.donnawilkinsphotography.com/p254425529/h2A818659#h2a818659