Rick Just's Blog, page 68
February 16, 2023
Everybody's Picnic (tap to read)
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.
February 15, 2023
The Long Career of Doc Roach (tap to read)
Not many public servants reach a measure of fame, even in their home towns. W.F. “Doc” Roach did. Roach started his career with the Boise Fire Department in 1910 when fire engines were pulled by horses, and didn’t retire until 1965. The top picture, below, taken in 1912, shows him on the left, seated on the fire wagon at Boise Fire Station Number 2 in the North End.
Roach served five years as one of Boise’s first motorcycle police officers, but served the rest of his 54-year career with Boise Fire. Roach was a dispatcher for the fire department from 1922 to 1947, when he became the city’s fire marshal, a position he stayed in until his retirement.
Roach was well known in the city because of his efforts at fire prevention, including public campaigns. In the bottom photo Doc Roach stands with the winner of the 1957 “Miss Sparky” competition that was held as part of Fire Prevention Week. Sarah Jane Benson was “Miss Sparky” that year.
Doc Roach shot and collected hundreds of photos over his career, creating a precious resource for historians. The two featured photos are from the Doc Roach Fire Collection Courtesy of Boise State University Library, Special Collections and Archives.
Roach served five years as one of Boise’s first motorcycle police officers, but served the rest of his 54-year career with Boise Fire. Roach was a dispatcher for the fire department from 1922 to 1947, when he became the city’s fire marshal, a position he stayed in until his retirement.
Roach was well known in the city because of his efforts at fire prevention, including public campaigns. In the bottom photo Doc Roach stands with the winner of the 1957 “Miss Sparky” competition that was held as part of Fire Prevention Week. Sarah Jane Benson was “Miss Sparky” that year.
Doc Roach shot and collected hundreds of photos over his career, creating a precious resource for historians. The two featured photos are from the Doc Roach Fire Collection Courtesy of Boise State University Library, Special Collections and Archives.
February 14, 2023
A World Champion (tap to read)
Kids, stay in school. You need that diploma. Now, with that out of the way, I can go on with the story.
Dean Oliver grew up dirt poor in Idaho. When Dean was 11, in 1940, his father died in an airplane crash while hunting coyotes with a partner over the Arco desert. That left Dean’s mom struggling to feed seven kids. So, Oliver dropped out of school during ninth grade in Nampa to help supplement his mother’s income and, frankly, because he couldn’t stop thinking about being a cowboy. It seemed like an impossible dream for a frail kid with a speech defect that caused him to pronounce rodeo and rope as wodeo and wope.
He couldn’t pronounce those words the way they were supposed to sound, but he could rodeo and he could rope. He first got his inspiration when he snuck into the Snake River Stampede and watched a little guy with glasses walk away with $300 in the roping competition. Starting with a beat-up mare he bought for $50, Oliver started to learn how to rope. He got pretty good at it.
He won his first professional roping competition in Jerome, Idaho, in 1952, and just kept on winning. He was the proclaimed the world champion calf roper in 1955. The frail kid from Idaho, by that time, weighed 200 pounds and stood at six three. Nobody cared how he pronounced rodeo.
Dean Oliver still holds the record for most world titles in calf roping with eight, including winning five straight from 1960-1964. He was crowned all-around world champion cowboy three years in a row, 1963-1965.
The picture is a page from the January 28th, 1966, edition of the Idaho Statesman. The article featured numerous pictures of Oliver and his family, including the one at top left of his two-year-old daughter Nikki wearing his championship hat and buckle, and sitting on his championship saddle.
Dean Oliver grew up dirt poor in Idaho. When Dean was 11, in 1940, his father died in an airplane crash while hunting coyotes with a partner over the Arco desert. That left Dean’s mom struggling to feed seven kids. So, Oliver dropped out of school during ninth grade in Nampa to help supplement his mother’s income and, frankly, because he couldn’t stop thinking about being a cowboy. It seemed like an impossible dream for a frail kid with a speech defect that caused him to pronounce rodeo and rope as wodeo and wope.
He couldn’t pronounce those words the way they were supposed to sound, but he could rodeo and he could rope. He first got his inspiration when he snuck into the Snake River Stampede and watched a little guy with glasses walk away with $300 in the roping competition. Starting with a beat-up mare he bought for $50, Oliver started to learn how to rope. He got pretty good at it.
He won his first professional roping competition in Jerome, Idaho, in 1952, and just kept on winning. He was the proclaimed the world champion calf roper in 1955. The frail kid from Idaho, by that time, weighed 200 pounds and stood at six three. Nobody cared how he pronounced rodeo.
Dean Oliver still holds the record for most world titles in calf roping with eight, including winning five straight from 1960-1964. He was crowned all-around world champion cowboy three years in a row, 1963-1965.
The picture is a page from the January 28th, 1966, edition of the Idaho Statesman. The article featured numerous pictures of Oliver and his family, including the one at top left of his two-year-old daughter Nikki wearing his championship hat and buckle, and sitting on his championship saddle.
February 13, 2023
John West Marker in Place (tap to read)
I was honored to speak to a group at Idaho’s Black History Museum this past week. After discovering that pioneer John West did not have a headstone on his grave (thank you Bob Hartman), I started a Go-Fund-Me campaign to install one. I was confident we’d raise more money than needed for the monument, so I told contributors that any additional money would go to Idaho’s Black History Museum. In just three days, we raised enough to buy the marker and raised more than $3,000 for the museum.
To read the story of John West, click here.
The new headstone for John West. 
Director Phillip Thompson of the Idaho Black History Museum with
Speaking of Idaho blogger Rick Just.
To read the story of John West, click here.
The new headstone for John West. Director Phillip Thompson of the Idaho Black History Museum with Speaking of Idaho blogger Rick Just.
February 12, 2023
Bud the Dog (tap to read)
I asked for suggestions about dogs in Idaho history and got a good one from Jeff Schrade. I hadn’t heard about Bud the motoring pit bull, before.
The story starts on May 23, 1903, in San Francisco when Dr. Horatio Nelson Jackson and Sewall Crocker climbed into the front seat a of second-hand cherry-red Winton touring car and set out for New York City. The trip started as a $50 bar bet. Jackson, who had little experience with automobiles, was challenged on his statement that an automobile could make it coast-to-coast in 90 days. He took the bet, bought the car, and hired Crocker to go along with him as a driver and mechanic.
There were no road maps back then. There were barely roads. Only about 150 miles of pavement existed in the country, all of that within city limits.
The old saw about someone having more money than sense might have applied to Jackson. This was a spur-of-the-moment adventure that should have ended in disaster. Instead, it became a string of small disasters, flat tires, broken parts, and gasoline shortages, that piled up to make a success.
I found only one mention of the trip in an Idaho newspaper while it was taking place. There was a brief story on the front page of the Montpelier Examiner on Friday, June, 19, 1903. Headlined “A Curiosity for this City,” the short piece focused more on the fact the Winton was the first automobile to appear in Montpelier than the trip itself.
Nelson didn’t start getting much newspaper coverage until he had made it a little further east. By the time he hit Chicago on July 17, he got a grand reception from city officials. Publicity for the stunt built with a stop in Cleveland, where the Winton had been built. Outside of Buffalo all three riders were thrown out of the car in a little accident, but none were hurt.
Three? Nelson, of course, and Crocker… And Bud. It seems that when the humans left Caldwell, Idaho on June 12, Nelson discovered he’d left his coat behind at the hotel. They went back to get it and encountered a man with a bull dog along the way. The man suggested that they really needed a mascot for their trip. Nelson had been looking for one, so paid the man $15 and got Bud to climb aboard.
Bud became the star of the trip because, well, dog. And dog with driving goggles. The dust could be irritating on the eyes when you were speeding along at 15 or 20 MPH with no windshield. Bud didn’t seem to mind the goggles and he loved riding in the car.
The two guys and a dog rolled into New York City at 4:30 in the morning Sunday, July 26, 63 days, 12 hours and 30 minutes after leaving San Francisco. Nelson reportedly never did bother to collect on his bet. He spent $8,000 making himself and his dog famous. A 1903 Winton, along with a depiction of Nelson and Bud the dog tells the story of the first cross-county auto trip at the National Museum of American History in Washington, DC.
Ken Burns did a series for PBS on the adventure, called Horatio’s Drive in 2003, which can found on YouTube.
The story starts on May 23, 1903, in San Francisco when Dr. Horatio Nelson Jackson and Sewall Crocker climbed into the front seat a of second-hand cherry-red Winton touring car and set out for New York City. The trip started as a $50 bar bet. Jackson, who had little experience with automobiles, was challenged on his statement that an automobile could make it coast-to-coast in 90 days. He took the bet, bought the car, and hired Crocker to go along with him as a driver and mechanic.
There were no road maps back then. There were barely roads. Only about 150 miles of pavement existed in the country, all of that within city limits.
The old saw about someone having more money than sense might have applied to Jackson. This was a spur-of-the-moment adventure that should have ended in disaster. Instead, it became a string of small disasters, flat tires, broken parts, and gasoline shortages, that piled up to make a success.
I found only one mention of the trip in an Idaho newspaper while it was taking place. There was a brief story on the front page of the Montpelier Examiner on Friday, June, 19, 1903. Headlined “A Curiosity for this City,” the short piece focused more on the fact the Winton was the first automobile to appear in Montpelier than the trip itself.
Nelson didn’t start getting much newspaper coverage until he had made it a little further east. By the time he hit Chicago on July 17, he got a grand reception from city officials. Publicity for the stunt built with a stop in Cleveland, where the Winton had been built. Outside of Buffalo all three riders were thrown out of the car in a little accident, but none were hurt.
Three? Nelson, of course, and Crocker… And Bud. It seems that when the humans left Caldwell, Idaho on June 12, Nelson discovered he’d left his coat behind at the hotel. They went back to get it and encountered a man with a bull dog along the way. The man suggested that they really needed a mascot for their trip. Nelson had been looking for one, so paid the man $15 and got Bud to climb aboard.
Bud became the star of the trip because, well, dog. And dog with driving goggles. The dust could be irritating on the eyes when you were speeding along at 15 or 20 MPH with no windshield. Bud didn’t seem to mind the goggles and he loved riding in the car.
The two guys and a dog rolled into New York City at 4:30 in the morning Sunday, July 26, 63 days, 12 hours and 30 minutes after leaving San Francisco. Nelson reportedly never did bother to collect on his bet. He spent $8,000 making himself and his dog famous. A 1903 Winton, along with a depiction of Nelson and Bud the dog tells the story of the first cross-county auto trip at the National Museum of American History in Washington, DC.
Ken Burns did a series for PBS on the adventure, called Horatio’s Drive in 2003, which can found on YouTube.
February 11, 2023
Boise Music Week (tap to read)
When Eugene A. Farner returned from serving in World War I he wanted to put all that behind him and devote his energies to something he loved—music. Farner was the musical director at St. Michael’s Episcopal Cathedral and St. Margaret’s School (the predecessor to Boise State University).
Farner envisioned a music week to provide for local performers to contribute their talents to the community, and to become an annual event to be conducted “entirely free of commercial profit.” What he may not have envisioned was that Boise Music Week would be alive and well a century later.
The first celebration of Boise Music Week took place in May 1919. In the early years and up to World War II they constructed a wooden platform for the performances in front of the Idaho Statehouse. The event moved indoors during the war when restrictions on the use of lumber were instituted. Event organizers moved the venue outdoors in the 1970s to the bandshell in Julia Davis Park.
Drama productions were important in the early years of Music Week, and local productions of Broadway musicals were added in 1959. Staged events were conducted at local high schools until 1988 when Velma Morrison and the Harry W. Morrison Foundation invited Boise Music Week to perform at the Velma V. Morrison Center for the Performing Arts.
Producers of Boise Music Week still remember the vision of Eugene A. Farner, using local talent and providing free performances for the community. This year’s Music Week will be in May. For more information, check their Facebook Page.
The clipping below is from the Idaho Statesman, May 11, 1919.
Farner envisioned a music week to provide for local performers to contribute their talents to the community, and to become an annual event to be conducted “entirely free of commercial profit.” What he may not have envisioned was that Boise Music Week would be alive and well a century later.
The first celebration of Boise Music Week took place in May 1919. In the early years and up to World War II they constructed a wooden platform for the performances in front of the Idaho Statehouse. The event moved indoors during the war when restrictions on the use of lumber were instituted. Event organizers moved the venue outdoors in the 1970s to the bandshell in Julia Davis Park.
Drama productions were important in the early years of Music Week, and local productions of Broadway musicals were added in 1959. Staged events were conducted at local high schools until 1988 when Velma Morrison and the Harry W. Morrison Foundation invited Boise Music Week to perform at the Velma V. Morrison Center for the Performing Arts.
Producers of Boise Music Week still remember the vision of Eugene A. Farner, using local talent and providing free performances for the community. This year’s Music Week will be in May. For more information, check their Facebook Page.
The clipping below is from the Idaho Statesman, May 11, 1919.
February 10, 2023
Real Fishing in Idaho (tap to read)
I can't improve on this dig at Eastern anglers from the Richfield (Idaho) Recorder, May 28, 1914.
February 9, 2023
Boise's Model Ts (tap to read)
What town comes to mind when you think automobile manufacturing? Detroit? Dearborn? Boise?
H.H. and M.B. Bryant’s first Ford dealership was located at 1602 Main (first photo below). But it wasn’t just an ordinary dealership. Henry Ford’s wife was the sister of H.H, so he had a bit of an in.
Ford was famous for revolutionizing the industry with the assembly line process, beginning with the 1914 Model T. It was common to do some final assembly at dealerships for a time. Bryant went a step further than most dealerships, building a large assembly plant at 27th and Fairview. In the aerieal photo below you can spot the jointed black roof of the assembly plant.
H.H. and M.B. Bryant’s first Ford dealership was located at 1602 Main (first photo below). But it wasn’t just an ordinary dealership. Henry Ford’s wife was the sister of H.H, so he had a bit of an in.
Ford was famous for revolutionizing the industry with the assembly line process, beginning with the 1914 Model T. It was common to do some final assembly at dealerships for a time. Bryant went a step further than most dealerships, building a large assembly plant at 27th and Fairview. In the aerieal photo below you can spot the jointed black roof of the assembly plant.
February 8, 2023
Baldridge Goes Hunting (tap to read)
Henry Clarence Baldridge was the 14th governor of the State of Idaho, serving from 1927 to 1931. He was a Republican who served in both the Idaho House and Senate as well as a couple of terms as lieutenant governor.
He went on a hunting trip in 1928 that wouldn’t even merit a footnote in Idaho history, except that we have pictures. As any TV news reporter will tell you, it didn’t happen unless someone took pictures.
The someone in this case was Ansgar Johnson, Sr. He was apparently with the governor and several other men on the hunting trip, and he came back with some great, in-focus shots. About a dozen of those pictures were donated to the Idaho State Historical Society and are part of their digital collection.
The photo on the left is of Gov. Baldrige in his furry chaps proudly standing next to a coyote skin. With him in the picture is a man identified as “Deadshot” Reed. In the photo on the right the governor is the one running a camera. It’s a “moving picture machine” according to the hand-written caption.
Do you have some cool old pictures taken in Idaho? The Idaho State Historical Society is one of several archives in the state where you could donate them. I’d be happy to help you share them here, if they show something that tells a good story.
He went on a hunting trip in 1928 that wouldn’t even merit a footnote in Idaho history, except that we have pictures. As any TV news reporter will tell you, it didn’t happen unless someone took pictures.
The someone in this case was Ansgar Johnson, Sr. He was apparently with the governor and several other men on the hunting trip, and he came back with some great, in-focus shots. About a dozen of those pictures were donated to the Idaho State Historical Society and are part of their digital collection.
The photo on the left is of Gov. Baldrige in his furry chaps proudly standing next to a coyote skin. With him in the picture is a man identified as “Deadshot” Reed. In the photo on the right the governor is the one running a camera. It’s a “moving picture machine” according to the hand-written caption.
Do you have some cool old pictures taken in Idaho? The Idaho State Historical Society is one of several archives in the state where you could donate them. I’d be happy to help you share them here, if they show something that tells a good story.
February 7, 2023
Gunfire in Idaho City (tap tp read)
In territorial days one could make a mark swiftly. Edward Dexter Holbrook was a shooting star in the sense that he gained fame and power in short order before his light blinked out.
Holbrook was born in Ohio. He went to school at Oberlin, earning a Bachelor of Law degree. He was admitted to the bar there in Ohio 1859, at age 23. He came to Idaho Territory shortly thereafter to practice law in Idaho City. In 1864, the Democrat was elected by his fellows to serve as a Territorial Delegate to Congress.
Territorial delegates didn’t wield a lot of power, but Holbrook kept his eyes on the needs of Idaho Territory. He was reelected in 1866.
It will not come as a surprise to readers that a politician wasn’t universally loved. In his case, E.D. Holbrook went from great admiration from one man to pure loathing.
Charles H. Douglas, Esq. had been a friend of Holbrook’s for years, but in 1870, during the Democratic Convention in Boise, the two parted ways. Holbrook was well-impressed with himself and often spouted his opinions loudly. Douglas advised the delegate to “pull in his horns” during an argument about how delegates should be selected, and the feud was on.
Douglas had some handbills printed that called Holbrook a thief and a rascal who was unfit to represent the territory. Delegate Holbrook had handbills printed that called Douglas a liar, a coward, and an assassin.
Why Holbrook used the word “assassin” to describe his former friend is unclear. What is clear is that there was an element of prescience in its use.
On June 18, 1870, at about 8 in the evening, the two men confronted each other on the corner of Main and Wall streets in Idaho City. They first exchanged words, then gunfire. Eleven shots flew between the men. Only one hit a mark. Holbrook suffered an abdominal wound.
Deputy Sheriff T.M. Britten promptly arrested both men. Seeing that Holbrook was wounded, the deputy assisted him to his law office, just 15 feet away, and sat him down in a chair.
Britten called for Doctor Healey, who arrived promptly. The doctor examined Holbrook and found that the bullet had entered the delegate's abdomen low and to the right. With internal bleeding evident, it was a hopeless case. Holbrook died at 7 o’clock the next morning.
Monday morning, the coroner called an inquest. The jurors’ verdict was that Holbrook had died at the hands of Douglas.
Meanwhile, Holbrook’s coffin lay in state at the Masonic Temple, but not for long. About 200 citizens participated in a funeral march led by a brass band to the cemetery that afternoon. The coroner, who happened to be the grand master of the Masonic fraternity in Idaho, took charge of the burial ritual.
Douglas pleaded self-defense. He was acquitted on the grounds that both parties entered into the altercation willingly.
Whether it was justice or not, it was swift, as was just about everything related to the shooting star life of E.D. Holbrook.
Edward Dexter Holbrook was one of Idaho Territory's first delegates to Congress.
Holbrook was born in Ohio. He went to school at Oberlin, earning a Bachelor of Law degree. He was admitted to the bar there in Ohio 1859, at age 23. He came to Idaho Territory shortly thereafter to practice law in Idaho City. In 1864, the Democrat was elected by his fellows to serve as a Territorial Delegate to Congress.
Territorial delegates didn’t wield a lot of power, but Holbrook kept his eyes on the needs of Idaho Territory. He was reelected in 1866.
It will not come as a surprise to readers that a politician wasn’t universally loved. In his case, E.D. Holbrook went from great admiration from one man to pure loathing.
Charles H. Douglas, Esq. had been a friend of Holbrook’s for years, but in 1870, during the Democratic Convention in Boise, the two parted ways. Holbrook was well-impressed with himself and often spouted his opinions loudly. Douglas advised the delegate to “pull in his horns” during an argument about how delegates should be selected, and the feud was on.
Douglas had some handbills printed that called Holbrook a thief and a rascal who was unfit to represent the territory. Delegate Holbrook had handbills printed that called Douglas a liar, a coward, and an assassin.
Why Holbrook used the word “assassin” to describe his former friend is unclear. What is clear is that there was an element of prescience in its use.
On June 18, 1870, at about 8 in the evening, the two men confronted each other on the corner of Main and Wall streets in Idaho City. They first exchanged words, then gunfire. Eleven shots flew between the men. Only one hit a mark. Holbrook suffered an abdominal wound.
Deputy Sheriff T.M. Britten promptly arrested both men. Seeing that Holbrook was wounded, the deputy assisted him to his law office, just 15 feet away, and sat him down in a chair.
Britten called for Doctor Healey, who arrived promptly. The doctor examined Holbrook and found that the bullet had entered the delegate's abdomen low and to the right. With internal bleeding evident, it was a hopeless case. Holbrook died at 7 o’clock the next morning.
Monday morning, the coroner called an inquest. The jurors’ verdict was that Holbrook had died at the hands of Douglas.
Meanwhile, Holbrook’s coffin lay in state at the Masonic Temple, but not for long. About 200 citizens participated in a funeral march led by a brass band to the cemetery that afternoon. The coroner, who happened to be the grand master of the Masonic fraternity in Idaho, took charge of the burial ritual.
Douglas pleaded self-defense. He was acquitted on the grounds that both parties entered into the altercation willingly.
Whether it was justice or not, it was swift, as was just about everything related to the shooting star life of E.D. Holbrook.
Edward Dexter Holbrook was one of Idaho Territory's first delegates to Congress.
