Rick Just's Blog, page 124
June 8, 2021
A Taxing Situation
So, I was recently doing a little research on dog taxes in Idaho because… well, who wouldn’t? Plus, I was intrigued by the photo below of an 1867 receipt for a dog tax in Boise.
I found that the Boise tax raised $200 for the city in 1869 when it was $5 per canine. But I also stumbled across this snarky little piece from the Caldwell Tribune, of June 24, 1893, and decided to share it.
“It has accidently leaked out that the city council recently passed a number of ordinances relating to matters of considerable interest to the tax payers of Caldwell, among other things an important franchise has been granted, a dog tax has been levied and the salaries of officers have been fixed. It is regrettable that those matters should obtain publicity without the sanction of the council, and it is hoped that greater discretion will be exercised in the future. Every precaution should be used in preventing subjects of general concern from reaching the public ear. Many ill-advised city councils have, adapted the rule of officially publishing their ordinances, but the plan has not been found to work satisfactorily. It often engenders a spirit of criticism and opposition, extremely aggravating to the council and promotive of public discord. The proper time
for people to become apprised of such transactions is after all possibility of protest has expired.”
A bit of satire about local government is always welcome, is it not?
I found that the Boise tax raised $200 for the city in 1869 when it was $5 per canine. But I also stumbled across this snarky little piece from the Caldwell Tribune, of June 24, 1893, and decided to share it.
“It has accidently leaked out that the city council recently passed a number of ordinances relating to matters of considerable interest to the tax payers of Caldwell, among other things an important franchise has been granted, a dog tax has been levied and the salaries of officers have been fixed. It is regrettable that those matters should obtain publicity without the sanction of the council, and it is hoped that greater discretion will be exercised in the future. Every precaution should be used in preventing subjects of general concern from reaching the public ear. Many ill-advised city councils have, adapted the rule of officially publishing their ordinances, but the plan has not been found to work satisfactorily. It often engenders a spirit of criticism and opposition, extremely aggravating to the council and promotive of public discord. The proper time
for people to become apprised of such transactions is after all possibility of protest has expired.”
A bit of satire about local government is always welcome, is it not?
June 7, 2021
A Unique Darkroom
Cedar trees have a smell that most people find pleasant. The natural oils of the tree are responsible for the scent, but their purpose isn’t so you can put your wedding dress in a cedar chest. Well, not exactly. The oils make the wood toxic to insects and fungus to protect the tree, which also helps protect your wedding dress.
Have you ever noticed that many old growth cedars are hollow? That’s because younger trees may not have developed the self-protecting oil yet, so the heartwood rotted. As the tree develops, it develops the oils it needs to stave off bugs and fungus, making for a strong shell but a hollow core. That’s great news for critters of various kinds that like to nest or hide inside.
It was also great news for photographers, in at least one instance. Charlie Poxleitner taught Civilian Conservation Corps students photography. This is a picture of their darkroom, near Avery. The darkroom was inside the hollow of a cedar tree. The picture is probably from the mid 1930s, and is part of the Idaho State Historical Society Digital Collection.
Have you ever noticed that many old growth cedars are hollow? That’s because younger trees may not have developed the self-protecting oil yet, so the heartwood rotted. As the tree develops, it develops the oils it needs to stave off bugs and fungus, making for a strong shell but a hollow core. That’s great news for critters of various kinds that like to nest or hide inside.
It was also great news for photographers, in at least one instance. Charlie Poxleitner taught Civilian Conservation Corps students photography. This is a picture of their darkroom, near Avery. The darkroom was inside the hollow of a cedar tree. The picture is probably from the mid 1930s, and is part of the Idaho State Historical Society Digital Collection.
June 6, 2021
Everybody's Picnic
The folks in Blackfoot were invited to a big picnic in May 1919. It was billed as Everybody’s Picnic. There would be dignitaries from out of town in attendance, even a few from out of state. Idaho Governor D. W. Davis was expected to be there. Residents were given detailed instructions on the front page of the Blackfoot Republican on how to take part.
“It is expected that many will come in from the country to make the start from Blackfoot with the rest of the party. The procession will be led by the little Overland, known as the Cub, driven by Editor Trego and accompanied by R.W. Spangler, editor of the New West magazine of Salt Lake, who will spread the confetti along the road, playing the game of hare and hound, to show where the turns in the road are to be made. As the Cub approaches a place where it is to turn a corner, the road will be strewn with confetti for some distance so that everybody following, whether they are in sight of the cars ahead or not, will be able to follow the road taken by the other people. The Cub will be followed by Ralph Dixey, our Shoshone Indian leader in his famous racing-car, the Stutz bear-cat.”
And what event precipitated this celebration to be attended by dignitaries and Everybody? The installation of new hot lead typesetting equipment in the offices of the Blackfoot Republican. This was apparently a sure sign of a progressive community.
The paper proclaimed that “For several years Governor Davis has shown a keen interest in what he calls an unusual efficiency at The Republican office and when he saw the announcement of our venture in installing the Ludlow typograph he decided to come see it and have a little visit with Blackfoot people and the representatives of the press. He says that an invention which will remove the necessity for using hand-set type in printing is worthy of the attention of a governor of any state and the publishers of the country.”
Plus, confetti!
Note that newspapers of the time often proclaimed their political leanings quite prominently, as did the Blackfoot paper in its very name.
“It is expected that many will come in from the country to make the start from Blackfoot with the rest of the party. The procession will be led by the little Overland, known as the Cub, driven by Editor Trego and accompanied by R.W. Spangler, editor of the New West magazine of Salt Lake, who will spread the confetti along the road, playing the game of hare and hound, to show where the turns in the road are to be made. As the Cub approaches a place where it is to turn a corner, the road will be strewn with confetti for some distance so that everybody following, whether they are in sight of the cars ahead or not, will be able to follow the road taken by the other people. The Cub will be followed by Ralph Dixey, our Shoshone Indian leader in his famous racing-car, the Stutz bear-cat.”
And what event precipitated this celebration to be attended by dignitaries and Everybody? The installation of new hot lead typesetting equipment in the offices of the Blackfoot Republican. This was apparently a sure sign of a progressive community.
The paper proclaimed that “For several years Governor Davis has shown a keen interest in what he calls an unusual efficiency at The Republican office and when he saw the announcement of our venture in installing the Ludlow typograph he decided to come see it and have a little visit with Blackfoot people and the representatives of the press. He says that an invention which will remove the necessity for using hand-set type in printing is worthy of the attention of a governor of any state and the publishers of the country.”
Plus, confetti!
Note that newspapers of the time often proclaimed their political leanings quite prominently, as did the Blackfoot paper in its very name.
June 5, 2021
Fisherman's Luck
Saturday, June 5, 1976 wasn’t a great day for fishing on the Teton River. Daryl Grigg and his friend David Benson made it to the river from their homes in St. Anthony about 11 am. They’d had good luck fishing in a big eddy at the end of an access road in the past, but that day nothing was biting, so they set out for an island upriver a bit.
The anglers had just gotten to the island when they spotted an airplane flying down through the canyon above them. They were close enough to see the pilot. He seemed to be waving at them. They waved back.
The young men—Daryl was 22 and David 23—had started fishing again when the water rapidly rose about six feet. Benson said, “We’ll have to swim out of here!”
Grigg turned and looked upriver to see a 30-foot-high wall of water coming straight at them. He yelled for Benson to jump in and start swimming.
“We started out swimming, but that didn’t work,” Grigg said in a 1977 oral history recorded for Utah State University, Ricks College, and the Idaho State Historical Society. “Then, that was the last time I (saw) David. There were thousands of logs, so I grabbed onto one of them. I didn’t have to swim after that. I just remember looking around. It was unbelievable, everything was tearing everything else up. I couldn’t hardly hear anything because of the noise. Then I saw a couple of houses get wiped out.”
Grigg had no way of knowing that the Teton Dam, which had just finished filling for the first time, had washed out, one side of it collapsing. He rode the debris downstream, getting crushed by logs, about three miles before hanging up on a tree. He was able to work his way into the tree and climb above the roaring water.
Wrapping his arms around the cottonwood tree about 30 feet up, Grigg found a fork he could collapse into. It was hard to get his breath. He went in and out of consciousness, stuck in the tree for what would be at least four hours. Later he learned that he had five broken ribs and a punctured lung.
Describing his chaotic ride to the tree that saved him, Grigg said, “I was right in front of the wave. I could see it grow, the trees coming up, that I’d go right through them and there would be nothing left. Sometimes it really scared me. Some of the logs I was on, they’d get caught on a tree, sit there and stop for a couple of minutes, nearly five minutes, just sit in one place. And you see water tearing up everything all over. The water would raise and then we’d go down the river again. I was climbing over the logs quite a bit, trying to get to shore.”
About his eventual rescue, Grigg said, “I think I was in shock really bad and I think I went out for a while. I woke up, it was getting really late, so I started yelling. I couldn’t see anything. I was scared. Luckily, there was a bunch of people over on the hill there… and they could hear me. So, they brought a boat out.”
Grigg was flown first by helicopter to the St. Anthony hospital, then in another helicopter to the hospital in Idaho Falls, where he spent 10 days recuperating. The body of his friend, David Benson, was found two days after the flood, one of 11 victims of the Teton Dam collapse.
The Teton Dam in the early stages of the 1976 flood.
The anglers had just gotten to the island when they spotted an airplane flying down through the canyon above them. They were close enough to see the pilot. He seemed to be waving at them. They waved back.
The young men—Daryl was 22 and David 23—had started fishing again when the water rapidly rose about six feet. Benson said, “We’ll have to swim out of here!”
Grigg turned and looked upriver to see a 30-foot-high wall of water coming straight at them. He yelled for Benson to jump in and start swimming.
“We started out swimming, but that didn’t work,” Grigg said in a 1977 oral history recorded for Utah State University, Ricks College, and the Idaho State Historical Society. “Then, that was the last time I (saw) David. There were thousands of logs, so I grabbed onto one of them. I didn’t have to swim after that. I just remember looking around. It was unbelievable, everything was tearing everything else up. I couldn’t hardly hear anything because of the noise. Then I saw a couple of houses get wiped out.”
Grigg had no way of knowing that the Teton Dam, which had just finished filling for the first time, had washed out, one side of it collapsing. He rode the debris downstream, getting crushed by logs, about three miles before hanging up on a tree. He was able to work his way into the tree and climb above the roaring water.
Wrapping his arms around the cottonwood tree about 30 feet up, Grigg found a fork he could collapse into. It was hard to get his breath. He went in and out of consciousness, stuck in the tree for what would be at least four hours. Later he learned that he had five broken ribs and a punctured lung.
Describing his chaotic ride to the tree that saved him, Grigg said, “I was right in front of the wave. I could see it grow, the trees coming up, that I’d go right through them and there would be nothing left. Sometimes it really scared me. Some of the logs I was on, they’d get caught on a tree, sit there and stop for a couple of minutes, nearly five minutes, just sit in one place. And you see water tearing up everything all over. The water would raise and then we’d go down the river again. I was climbing over the logs quite a bit, trying to get to shore.”
About his eventual rescue, Grigg said, “I think I was in shock really bad and I think I went out for a while. I woke up, it was getting really late, so I started yelling. I couldn’t see anything. I was scared. Luckily, there was a bunch of people over on the hill there… and they could hear me. So, they brought a boat out.”
Grigg was flown first by helicopter to the St. Anthony hospital, then in another helicopter to the hospital in Idaho Falls, where he spent 10 days recuperating. The body of his friend, David Benson, was found two days after the flood, one of 11 victims of the Teton Dam collapse.
The Teton Dam in the early stages of the 1976 flood.
June 4, 2021
You Can't See the Trees for the Trees!
Boise is known as the city of trees. Captain Benjamin Bonneville’s men were said to have proclaimed, “Les Bois, Les Bois!” (the trees, or the woods) when they first spotted the cottonwoods along the Boise River in 1833. One could understand their excitement after spending some days traipsing through the desert.
There are an estimated 3.5 billion trees in the city. Okay, that’s my estimate. It may be off a little.
Some of those trees have a claim to fame. The Anne Frank Memorial includes a chestnut grown from the seed of a tree she often talked about in her famous diary. One passage reads, "The two of us looked out at the blue sky, the bare chestnut tree glistening with dew, the seagulls and other birds glinting with silver as they swooped through the air, and we were so moved and entranced that we couldn't speak." Only 11 saplings came to the US from the original tree.
Over on the Basque Block, the Cyrus Jacobs-Uberuaga Boarding House has a large tree out front that came from the Gernika'ko Arbola or Tree of Gernika. The original tree was a gathering place for Basques since Spanish King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella stood beneath it and swore an oath to protect the Basques. William Wordsworth memorialized the tree in a sonnet called The Oak of Gernika.
The original oak in the Basque Country has been replanted several times from saved acorns. The resilience of the Tree of Gernika is legendary. In 1937 the city of Gernika was carpet-bombed by Spanish fascist dictator Francisco Franco. About 1,000 citizens were killed and the town was all but leveled. The Tree of Gernika remained intact. The incident was later depicted in Pablo Picasso’s painting, Guernica.
The Boise Gernika tree was planted in 1988 and is today robust with a healthy crop
of acorns each year.
Sadly, trees planted on the capitol grounds by Presidents Benjamin Harrison, Theodore Roosevelt, and William Howard Taft had to be cut down when the underground wings were added to the building (dedicated in 2010). Then Representative Max Black, who is a wood carver, salvaged wood from the trees so that local artists could work with it. Several examples of their art can be seen in the capitol’s statuary hall.
Another tree that once graced the capitol grounds was one grown from a seedling that went to the moon with the Apollo 11 astronauts. It came down during the statehouse expansion, too. Take heart, there is another moon tree in Boise. It came from a seed that went to the moon aboard Apollo 14, and it now grows on the grounds of Lowell Scott Elementary. It was planted in 1977.
One of the most beloved trees in Boise is the giant sequoia that stood for many years on St. Lukes property on Jefferson St. It was planted in 1912 by Dr. Fred Pittenger as a seedling sent to Boise by John Muir. The 98-foot-tall tree sported Christmas lights for many years. In the mid-80s arborists discovered that the lights had killed the top of the tree. They did some surgery, redirecting a healthy branch to serve as a new top. That’s what gives it the odd shape, almost as if a small tree is growing out of a large one (photo).
In preparation for new construction at St. Lukes, the massive tree was moved across the street in 2017. The move was carefully done, and the tree seems to be doing well. It could be a fixture in the city for a couple thousand years.
There are an estimated 3.5 billion trees in the city. Okay, that’s my estimate. It may be off a little.
Some of those trees have a claim to fame. The Anne Frank Memorial includes a chestnut grown from the seed of a tree she often talked about in her famous diary. One passage reads, "The two of us looked out at the blue sky, the bare chestnut tree glistening with dew, the seagulls and other birds glinting with silver as they swooped through the air, and we were so moved and entranced that we couldn't speak." Only 11 saplings came to the US from the original tree.
Over on the Basque Block, the Cyrus Jacobs-Uberuaga Boarding House has a large tree out front that came from the Gernika'ko Arbola or Tree of Gernika. The original tree was a gathering place for Basques since Spanish King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella stood beneath it and swore an oath to protect the Basques. William Wordsworth memorialized the tree in a sonnet called The Oak of Gernika.
The original oak in the Basque Country has been replanted several times from saved acorns. The resilience of the Tree of Gernika is legendary. In 1937 the city of Gernika was carpet-bombed by Spanish fascist dictator Francisco Franco. About 1,000 citizens were killed and the town was all but leveled. The Tree of Gernika remained intact. The incident was later depicted in Pablo Picasso’s painting, Guernica.
The Boise Gernika tree was planted in 1988 and is today robust with a healthy crop
of acorns each year.
Sadly, trees planted on the capitol grounds by Presidents Benjamin Harrison, Theodore Roosevelt, and William Howard Taft had to be cut down when the underground wings were added to the building (dedicated in 2010). Then Representative Max Black, who is a wood carver, salvaged wood from the trees so that local artists could work with it. Several examples of their art can be seen in the capitol’s statuary hall.
Another tree that once graced the capitol grounds was one grown from a seedling that went to the moon with the Apollo 11 astronauts. It came down during the statehouse expansion, too. Take heart, there is another moon tree in Boise. It came from a seed that went to the moon aboard Apollo 14, and it now grows on the grounds of Lowell Scott Elementary. It was planted in 1977.
One of the most beloved trees in Boise is the giant sequoia that stood for many years on St. Lukes property on Jefferson St. It was planted in 1912 by Dr. Fred Pittenger as a seedling sent to Boise by John Muir. The 98-foot-tall tree sported Christmas lights for many years. In the mid-80s arborists discovered that the lights had killed the top of the tree. They did some surgery, redirecting a healthy branch to serve as a new top. That’s what gives it the odd shape, almost as if a small tree is growing out of a large one (photo).
In preparation for new construction at St. Lukes, the massive tree was moved across the street in 2017. The move was carefully done, and the tree seems to be doing well. It could be a fixture in the city for a couple thousand years.
June 3, 2021
A Circus Act Gone Wrong
The first circus to appear in Idaho Territory put on a show August 6, 1864 in Boise. It was Don Rice’s circus, which the Idaho Statesman at the time noted “everyone has seen…in one part of the world or another.”
World renown was apparently the norm for circuses. The ad below is from the Idaho Statesman, June 8, 1865. Note that it is billed as the “most attractive performance ever presented to the world.” And only a buck!
Hyperbole aside, those circuses couldn’t match the spectacle that took place in Hailey as reported in the Daily Wood River Times on August 4, 1884. If you tend to get queasy about animal injury, skip this. It is not pretty.
The headline about Cole’s Circus said, “Samson, the Huge Elephant, on the Rampage—Two Horses Killed, Four Wagons, and Three Railway Cars Derailed—Forty or Fifty Shots Fired at Him Without Effect.” The story took up the entire front page.
Samson the elephant escaped its handlers perhaps when a dog barked and another bit him on the trunk. This angered Samson so much that he attacked the lion cage, rolling it over three times and breaking two of the bars, but not freeing the lions. Circus men came with sledge hammers and crowbars trying to guide the elephant. Local men ran to Hailey Iron Works with the idea that bars heated white hot might serve to control the him. Meanwhile, two men on horseback—perhaps descended from Paul Revere—loped down Main Street yelling, “Samson is loose—smashing things. Get some guns to shoot him!”
Samson was crushing wagons and horses on his way toward town where he met up with a circus hand brandishing a white-hot poker, which he applied to Samson’s leg. The elephant howled and proceeded into town.
“At this time,” the Times reported, “there were fully 3,000 persons on the ground, looking on and following the movements of the mammoth with the…most intense excitement.”
And what about all that shouting for guns? “The cavaliers who ran to Main street to look for gun-men did not search in vain. Instantly 15 or 20 guns of all description, from the small bird shotgun to the heaviest two-ounce Winchester, were produced, and started for the scene of the rampage. An elephant hunt was just what the sports of Hailey had longed for for a long time.”
The men with rifles blasted away at the elephant with seemingly little effect, other than to turn him toward the railroad tracks. There he encountered a rail car loaded with ties, butting it with his head, then turning it over, knocking two more tie cars off the tracks. The ties, scattered around like matchsticks, made it difficult for Sampson to stand. This gave the circus men a chance to get ropes around him. After all that he was reportedly lead back to his tent “gentle as a lamb.”
At least six or seven shots the animal suffered seemed serious, but his trainer, Mr. Conklin, assured that he would “heal in a week or two.” The man said that, “about once a year… Samson gets vicious and is apt to give lots of trouble. But after the spell is over he is all right for another year.”
The paper speculated that the incident may have started when Samson saw “one of the smaller elephants caressing one of the females and possibly making an appointment with her.”
World renown was apparently the norm for circuses. The ad below is from the Idaho Statesman, June 8, 1865. Note that it is billed as the “most attractive performance ever presented to the world.” And only a buck!
Hyperbole aside, those circuses couldn’t match the spectacle that took place in Hailey as reported in the Daily Wood River Times on August 4, 1884. If you tend to get queasy about animal injury, skip this. It is not pretty.
The headline about Cole’s Circus said, “Samson, the Huge Elephant, on the Rampage—Two Horses Killed, Four Wagons, and Three Railway Cars Derailed—Forty or Fifty Shots Fired at Him Without Effect.” The story took up the entire front page.
Samson the elephant escaped its handlers perhaps when a dog barked and another bit him on the trunk. This angered Samson so much that he attacked the lion cage, rolling it over three times and breaking two of the bars, but not freeing the lions. Circus men came with sledge hammers and crowbars trying to guide the elephant. Local men ran to Hailey Iron Works with the idea that bars heated white hot might serve to control the him. Meanwhile, two men on horseback—perhaps descended from Paul Revere—loped down Main Street yelling, “Samson is loose—smashing things. Get some guns to shoot him!”
Samson was crushing wagons and horses on his way toward town where he met up with a circus hand brandishing a white-hot poker, which he applied to Samson’s leg. The elephant howled and proceeded into town.
“At this time,” the Times reported, “there were fully 3,000 persons on the ground, looking on and following the movements of the mammoth with the…most intense excitement.”
And what about all that shouting for guns? “The cavaliers who ran to Main street to look for gun-men did not search in vain. Instantly 15 or 20 guns of all description, from the small bird shotgun to the heaviest two-ounce Winchester, were produced, and started for the scene of the rampage. An elephant hunt was just what the sports of Hailey had longed for for a long time.”
The men with rifles blasted away at the elephant with seemingly little effect, other than to turn him toward the railroad tracks. There he encountered a rail car loaded with ties, butting it with his head, then turning it over, knocking two more tie cars off the tracks. The ties, scattered around like matchsticks, made it difficult for Sampson to stand. This gave the circus men a chance to get ropes around him. After all that he was reportedly lead back to his tent “gentle as a lamb.”
At least six or seven shots the animal suffered seemed serious, but his trainer, Mr. Conklin, assured that he would “heal in a week or two.” The man said that, “about once a year… Samson gets vicious and is apt to give lots of trouble. But after the spell is over he is all right for another year.”
The paper speculated that the incident may have started when Samson saw “one of the smaller elephants caressing one of the females and possibly making an appointment with her.”
June 2, 2021
What Time is it at the Capitol?
Time is of some importance when you’re running the government, especially at the statehouse where committee meetings follow a published agenda. It was important enough in the early days of Idaho’s capitol that they installed a system of clocks each controlled by a single master clock. The master clock stood about six feet high with a pendulum the size of dinner plate.
Problems with the system developed almost immediately.
The September 20th, 1914, Idaho Statesman reported that “All the clocks in the capitol building proper are regulated and set every few minutes by the master clock in the office of the state board of health on the top floor, and as this has been out of order for some time the whole system has been stopped, and for some reason each separate instrument stopped at a different hour.”
This resulted in some confusion as visitors moved about inside the statehouse only to find that time seemed to be rushing ahead or falling back at random according to the 27 clocks on the system.
The clocks throughout the building were notorious for not working. They went for years at a time without moving at all, offering a “wide variety of time.” They underwent repair several times, costing taxpayers about $500 per fix, each of which would last a week or two. It wasn’t long before maintenance staff just gave up.
At least a couple of times a Statesman reporter would take it upon himself to report the time in various offices to goad the government a bit. In several state offices they covered the clocks to avoid confusion. And embarrassment.
One clock was so thoroughly covered that it disappeared even from memory. An ornate clock behind the justices of the Idaho Supreme Court was covered by a false wall. That room became the setting for the Joint Finance and Appropriation Committee meetings when the court got its own building. The clock was rediscovered during the repair and remodel following the statehouse fire in 1992 and was restored to its original grandeur (see photo). It is the last of the capitol clocks that once—occasionally—ran on signals from the master clock. The mechanism has been replaced so that it ACTUALLY TELLS TIME.
Problems with the system developed almost immediately.
The September 20th, 1914, Idaho Statesman reported that “All the clocks in the capitol building proper are regulated and set every few minutes by the master clock in the office of the state board of health on the top floor, and as this has been out of order for some time the whole system has been stopped, and for some reason each separate instrument stopped at a different hour.”
This resulted in some confusion as visitors moved about inside the statehouse only to find that time seemed to be rushing ahead or falling back at random according to the 27 clocks on the system.
The clocks throughout the building were notorious for not working. They went for years at a time without moving at all, offering a “wide variety of time.” They underwent repair several times, costing taxpayers about $500 per fix, each of which would last a week or two. It wasn’t long before maintenance staff just gave up.
At least a couple of times a Statesman reporter would take it upon himself to report the time in various offices to goad the government a bit. In several state offices they covered the clocks to avoid confusion. And embarrassment.
One clock was so thoroughly covered that it disappeared even from memory. An ornate clock behind the justices of the Idaho Supreme Court was covered by a false wall. That room became the setting for the Joint Finance and Appropriation Committee meetings when the court got its own building. The clock was rediscovered during the repair and remodel following the statehouse fire in 1992 and was restored to its original grandeur (see photo). It is the last of the capitol clocks that once—occasionally—ran on signals from the master clock. The mechanism has been replaced so that it ACTUALLY TELLS TIME.
June 1, 2021
That Stunning Butter
A personal indulgence, today. One of my favorite stories from my family history. The following was taken from the book Letters of Long Ago by Agnes Just Reid, first published in 1923, and available today in its fourth edition on Amazon. Nels and Emma Just were my great grandparents. Emma is writing to her father in England.
“The winter was uneventful, but the spring, the spring has been wonderful! We have had guests, distinguished guests from the big world itself. You see there is a land to the northeast of us, perhaps a hundred miles, that is considered marvelous for its scenic possibilities and the government is sending a party of surveyors, chemists, etc., to pass judgment with a view to setting it aside for a national park. Well, this party happened to stop at our little cabin. There were representatives from all of the big eastern colleges, and then besides, there were the Moran brothers. I think you must have heard of Thomas Moran even as far away as England, for he is a wonderful nature artist. And his brother John is what I have heard you speak of as a "book maker." He writes magazine articles.
“And these two remarkable men were interested in us and in our way of living. Think of it, Father! I took them into the cellar where I had been churning to give them a drink of fresh buttermilk and while they drank and enjoyed it, I was smoothing the rolls of butter with my cedar paddle that Nels had whittled out for me with his pocket knife. I noticed the artist man paying special attention to the process and finally he ventured rather apologetically: "Mrs. Just, would you mind telling me what you varnish your rolls of butter with that gives them such a glossy appearance?" I thought the man was making fun of me, or sport of me as you would express it, but I looked into his face and saw that it was all candor. That is one of the happiest experiences of my life for that man who knows everything to be ignorant in the lines that I know so well. I tried to make him understand that the smooth paddle and the fresh butter were all sufficient but I think he is still rather bewildered. And do you know, since that day, the art of butter making has taken on anew dignity. I always did like to do it, but now my cedar paddle keeps singing to me with every stroke, "Even Thomas Moran cannot do this, Thomas Moran cannot do this," and before I know it the butter is all finished and I am ready to sing a different song to the washboard.”
Thomas Moran, of course, was a member of the Hayden Expedition to Yellowstone in 1871. The expedition was camped nearby along the Blackfoot River on their way to Yellowstone, and several members visited the Just cabin. Emma and Nels sold them some of their handiwork. Some leather gloves and britches.
Family tradition has it that the britches in this photo, taken by another famous man that went along on that expedition, William Henry Jackson, were made by Emma.
“The winter was uneventful, but the spring, the spring has been wonderful! We have had guests, distinguished guests from the big world itself. You see there is a land to the northeast of us, perhaps a hundred miles, that is considered marvelous for its scenic possibilities and the government is sending a party of surveyors, chemists, etc., to pass judgment with a view to setting it aside for a national park. Well, this party happened to stop at our little cabin. There were representatives from all of the big eastern colleges, and then besides, there were the Moran brothers. I think you must have heard of Thomas Moran even as far away as England, for he is a wonderful nature artist. And his brother John is what I have heard you speak of as a "book maker." He writes magazine articles.
“And these two remarkable men were interested in us and in our way of living. Think of it, Father! I took them into the cellar where I had been churning to give them a drink of fresh buttermilk and while they drank and enjoyed it, I was smoothing the rolls of butter with my cedar paddle that Nels had whittled out for me with his pocket knife. I noticed the artist man paying special attention to the process and finally he ventured rather apologetically: "Mrs. Just, would you mind telling me what you varnish your rolls of butter with that gives them such a glossy appearance?" I thought the man was making fun of me, or sport of me as you would express it, but I looked into his face and saw that it was all candor. That is one of the happiest experiences of my life for that man who knows everything to be ignorant in the lines that I know so well. I tried to make him understand that the smooth paddle and the fresh butter were all sufficient but I think he is still rather bewildered. And do you know, since that day, the art of butter making has taken on anew dignity. I always did like to do it, but now my cedar paddle keeps singing to me with every stroke, "Even Thomas Moran cannot do this, Thomas Moran cannot do this," and before I know it the butter is all finished and I am ready to sing a different song to the washboard.”
Thomas Moran, of course, was a member of the Hayden Expedition to Yellowstone in 1871. The expedition was camped nearby along the Blackfoot River on their way to Yellowstone, and several members visited the Just cabin. Emma and Nels sold them some of their handiwork. Some leather gloves and britches.
Family tradition has it that the britches in this photo, taken by another famous man that went along on that expedition, William Henry Jackson, were made by Emma.
May 31, 2021
Pop Quiz!
Below is a little Idaho trivia quiz. If you’ve been following Speaking of Idaho, you might do very well. Caution, it is my job to throw you off the scent. Answers below the picture. If you missed that story, click the letter for a link.
1). Which two cars were assembled in Idaho?
A. Model T and Leata
B. Model A and Leata
C. Reo and Leata
D. Reo and Model T
E. Model T and Model A
2). Two head-on train collisions occurred in Idaho, one in 1949 and one in 1951. What caused them?
A. Someone was asleep at the switch
B. Both engineers switched tracks trying to miss school buses
C. No one knows, but carbon monoxide poisoning was suspected
D. Brakes failed in both cases
E. Electronic switches were to blame
3). What crime was not linked to Ed Trafton?
A. Kidnapping
B. Bombing
C. Highway robbery
D. Horse rustling
E. Train robbing
4). Ed Trafton was convicted of robbing 15 what in a single day?
A. Cars in a train
B. People on a bus
C. Stagecoaches
D. Motor cars on the same stretch of highway
E. Bars in Rexburg
5) The man who started Heise Hot Springs was also known for what?
A. He was a movie producer
B. He won the medal of honor
C. He was an Olympic swimmer
D. He had 17 wives
E. He invented an early snowmobile
Answers (If you missed that story, click the letter for a link)
1, A (You can go back and read about it here and here)
2, C
3, E (You can go back and read the series starting here)
4, C
5, B
How did you do?
5 right—Why aren’t you writing this blog?
4 right—A true Idaho native, no matter where you’re from.
3 right—Good! Treat yourself to some French fries.
2 right—Okay! Eat more potatoes!
1 right—Meh. You need to read more blog posts.
0 right—Really, you should reconsider your recent relocation.
1). Which two cars were assembled in Idaho?
A. Model T and Leata
B. Model A and Leata
C. Reo and Leata
D. Reo and Model T
E. Model T and Model A
2). Two head-on train collisions occurred in Idaho, one in 1949 and one in 1951. What caused them?
A. Someone was asleep at the switch
B. Both engineers switched tracks trying to miss school buses
C. No one knows, but carbon monoxide poisoning was suspected
D. Brakes failed in both cases
E. Electronic switches were to blame
3). What crime was not linked to Ed Trafton?
A. Kidnapping
B. Bombing
C. Highway robbery
D. Horse rustling
E. Train robbing
4). Ed Trafton was convicted of robbing 15 what in a single day?
A. Cars in a train
B. People on a bus
C. Stagecoaches
D. Motor cars on the same stretch of highway
E. Bars in Rexburg
5) The man who started Heise Hot Springs was also known for what?
A. He was a movie producer
B. He won the medal of honor
C. He was an Olympic swimmer
D. He had 17 wives
E. He invented an early snowmobile
Answers (If you missed that story, click the letter for a link)
1, A (You can go back and read about it here and here)
2, C
3, E (You can go back and read the series starting here)
4, C
5, B
How did you do?
5 right—Why aren’t you writing this blog?
4 right—A true Idaho native, no matter where you’re from.
3 right—Good! Treat yourself to some French fries.
2 right—Okay! Eat more potatoes!
1 right—Meh. You need to read more blog posts.
0 right—Really, you should reconsider your recent relocation.
May 30, 2021
Idaho's Tenuous Connection to Ben Hur
William H. Wallace was Idaho’s first territorial governor and first congressional delegate. He had previously been Washington Territory’s delegate and territorial governor, so he had some experience under his belt. He also had a high-level friend, President Abraham Lincoln, whom he had known since the early 1850s.
Lincoln appointed Wallace governor while he was in Washington, DC representing Washington Territory. Wallace struck out for the new territory the fastest way possible, which was a 7,000-mile journey by sea and across the Isthmus of Panama. He arrived in Lewiston, the territorial capital, on July 23, 1863. He called the Territorial Legislature together in October, and one of their first decisions was to send Wallace back to Washington, DC, this time as the territorial delegate from Idaho.
He was serving there when on Monday, April 10, 1865, President Lincoln invited he and Mrs. Wallace to attend a performance at Ford Theatre the following Friday evening. For reasons unknown, Wallace declined the invitation. Lincoln was set to reappoint Wallace as territorial governor of Idaho, but that plan was dashed when the president was shot at the theatre. Wallace became one of Lincoln’s pallbearers.
I delight in telling the often-unimportant trivia associated with a story that sometimes makes it simmer if not sizzle, so will throw one in here that matters not a whit. Okay, this time, more than one:
1. William Wallace’s brother, David Wallace, served as governor of Indiana.
2. David Wallace’s son (and William Wallace’s nephew) Lew Wallace served as second in command of the court-martial of Lincoln assassination conspirators.
3. Lew Wallace did a sketch of those on trial and later did a well-known painting based on the sketch called The Conspirators.
4. Oh, and Lew Wallace wrote the novel Ben Hur .
The photo is courtesy of Idaho State Historical Society photo digital collection
Lincoln appointed Wallace governor while he was in Washington, DC representing Washington Territory. Wallace struck out for the new territory the fastest way possible, which was a 7,000-mile journey by sea and across the Isthmus of Panama. He arrived in Lewiston, the territorial capital, on July 23, 1863. He called the Territorial Legislature together in October, and one of their first decisions was to send Wallace back to Washington, DC, this time as the territorial delegate from Idaho.
He was serving there when on Monday, April 10, 1865, President Lincoln invited he and Mrs. Wallace to attend a performance at Ford Theatre the following Friday evening. For reasons unknown, Wallace declined the invitation. Lincoln was set to reappoint Wallace as territorial governor of Idaho, but that plan was dashed when the president was shot at the theatre. Wallace became one of Lincoln’s pallbearers.
I delight in telling the often-unimportant trivia associated with a story that sometimes makes it simmer if not sizzle, so will throw one in here that matters not a whit. Okay, this time, more than one:
1. William Wallace’s brother, David Wallace, served as governor of Indiana.
2. David Wallace’s son (and William Wallace’s nephew) Lew Wallace served as second in command of the court-martial of Lincoln assassination conspirators.
3. Lew Wallace did a sketch of those on trial and later did a well-known painting based on the sketch called The Conspirators.
4. Oh, and Lew Wallace wrote the novel Ben Hur .
The photo is courtesy of Idaho State Historical Society photo digital collection
