Category Archives: Then and Now

Ever wondered how your community looked 100 years ago? This feature includes juxtaposing photographs of our region, one from contemporary times and another from a time long past.

Inside the Music House Museum’s Roofing Project

Recognized by Forbes.com as one of the ten reasons to visit Michigan’s Lower Peninsula, the Music House Museum offers a unique collection of instruments that provide guests with a walk through the history, the artistry, and the engineering of automated music.

In the off-season winter months, local historical societies spend time regrouping, or reroofing in the case of the Music House Museum. In preparation for their upcoming project to replace the roof of the 1910 barn that houses major pieces of the Museum’s collection, volunteers have been busily erecting protective scaffolding and plastic sheeting to minimize potential damage to the larger, unmoveable instruments, in addition to the regular winterizing of the building.

The General Store display is temporarily closed and under wraps for protection.
The General Store display is temporarily closed and under wraps for protection.

Bruce Ahlich, Vice-President of the Board of Directors and Chairman of the Collections Committee, invited Grand Traverse Journal back (see our first article in the December 2014 issue) to see exactly how the Museum is managing such a huge undertaking. The Board of Directors has been planning this project for over two years, which includes working on raising the necessary funding, estimated as potentially reaching $160,000 for the roofing ($116,000), structural repairs, removal of waste, cleaning and reassembly of the displays. Fundraising efforts for the reroofing project thus far have included several grants.  Further donations are being accepted through the donation site Go Fund Me at

http://www.gofundme.com/musichouseroof

“For the well-being of the collection, it is imperative to replace the 30 year old roof now, before leaks develop and put the instruments at risk,” explains Ahlich. “We believe there are at least two, possibly three layers of roof that needs to be removed first. These include a couple layers of asphalt shingles and the original 1910 cedar shingles”. Next time you are at the Music House, look up at the rafters for a little history; The rafters and beams still showing bark are from the original barn, built sometime in the 1880s and incorporated into the 1910 structure. The insulated new roof will pay the Museum back in time by reducing heating and cooling costs.

The Museum plans to take full advantage of the removal of most of the displays for the roofing project to also improve the visitor experience. “We will be selective in returning some of the decorative pieces to their place in the Museum while being mindful of the history of the area and the era we are trying to capture”. All of the instruments will be returned to the displays.

Wondering how you can help beyond monetary donations? Volunteers will be needed upon completion of the reroofing to help clean-up the dirt and debris left after removing the roof and reassembling and cleaning the displays. This work will need to be done quickly, as the 2015 season starts off with a bang with the Museum opening on May 1st, and on the third weekend in May hosting the Musical Box Society International’s regional convention.   If interested in helping, please contact the Museum at 231 938-9301 or via e-mail at info@musichouse.org.

then-mortierfacadeOne of the pieces receiving special preparation and protection is the crown jewel of the Museum’s collection, the 1922 “Amaryllis” Mortier Dance Hall Organ, shown here with scaffolding built and covered with plastic sheeting to surround and protect its 30 foot wide by18 foot high facade. Of the approximately 1000 plus similar instruments crafted and used in Northern and Central Europe from 1908 to the 1930s, the Amaryllis (originally built for the Victoria Palace in Ypres, Belgium) is one of two known Mortier survivors with their original facade and specification of this particular size and design. Many dance and fairground organ were casualties of the immediate post-World War II era; The devastation and poverty of war-torn western Europe and the advancement of the phonograph and radio led many of the larger instruments to be simply burned as firewood to heat homes after salvaging the metal pipes from them as scrap.

The Amaryllis plays by perforated books of "music" and a hand-cranked flywheel.
The Amaryllis plays by perforated books of “music” and a hand-cranked flywheel.

The Amaryllis had been stored unplayable for decades, and required months of meticulous restoration work in 1983, and again in 2013, to restore it. The 97 key organ plays folding, perforated cardboard music books, using hundreds of pipes and other instruments (snare and bass drums, whistles, cymbals) to play its library of lively waltzes, polkas, foxtrots, and other popular music of the 1920s and later eras.  The huge flywheel which is used to play the organ was originally turned by hand; The use of a vintage electric motor to turn the flywheel now is one modern concession.

then-bruderGrand Traverse Journal will feature the Music House again in the spring, when the 1913 Bruder Fair Organ “Columbia” will be back from Ohio, where it is currently undergoing an $11,000 professional restoration that could not be done in-house. A generous $5,000 matching gift, some Endowment monies and many private donations have enabled to Museum to fund the project, as well as acquire some new music book stock by which to play it. Other newly refurbished instruments to be featured in the spring will be a 1910 Welte-Mignon Vorsetzer and an 1830 Black Forest organ clock, as well as the completion of the Wurlitzer organ project’s original toy chest and glockenspiel.

Amy Barritt is co-editor of Grand Traverse Journal. Special thanks to Bruce Ahlich, Vice-President of the Board of Directors of the Music House Museum.

Honoring those Lost at Sea

Wave breaking on the shore of Lake Michigan by Lincoln Park while a man watches from High Bridge Chicago Daily News, Inc., photographer. Published 1913 Nov. 10. Photo courtesy of Library of Congress, American Memory project.
Wave breaking on the shore of Lake Michigan by Lincoln Park while a man watches from High Bridge Chicago Daily News, Inc., photographer. Published 1913 Nov. 10. Photo courtesy of Library of Congress, American Memory Project.

Honoring all hands lost at sea has been a ubiquitous ritual of life in the Great Lakes State. Despite the beauty of the Lakes, we are always fearful of the next Great Lakes Storm of 1913, or a November gale. Earning a living from the Lakes has never been an easy task, and we honor that struggle, sometimes in very creative ways.

Were you aware of the monument to those lost at sea that lies at the bottom of Little Traverse Bay? A 1,850-pound, Italian marble Crucifix rests there, about 800 yards off Sunset Park in Petoskey. Officer Denny Jessick of the Emmet County Sheriff’s office has long invited the public to view this memorial through the ice. These viewings began in 1986, around the same time that the Crucifix was moved from it’s original site, about 1200 feet off the Petoskey breakwall, where it was placed in 1962 by the U.S. Icebreaker Sundew.

This is a unique event honoring our communion with the Great Lakes, and a respectful (albeit fun) way to introduce people young and old to the history of that communion. A fun historical tidbit to throw out there while you’re on the ice: of the 12 ships lost at sea during the Great Lakes Storm of 1913, 4 are still missing. The most recently found was the Henry B. Smith, likely discovered in June 2013.

thenandnow-crucifix
Petoskey’s underwater crucifix, image courtesy of Emmet County government.

That’s right readers, time for a History Road Trip! The viewing of the Crucifix is always free and takes place if the ice is thick enough; Look for a tent at the viewing area. Viewing dates are publicized on the County home page, www.emmetcounty.org, in the Petoskey News-Review, and on local Chamber of Commerce web sites.

Amy Barritt is co-editor of Grand Traverse Journal.

Seeing and Believing (and photo manipulation)

Orson W. Peck (1875-1954) was a famed photographer and postcard maker from Traverse City. One of the hallmarks of his work is Photoshop-like manipulation of film processing, that playfulness often exaggerating features of the scene he was portraying. Here are two photos, one probably borrowed from a fellow postcard maker Edward Beebe (1871-1945), which shows two engines laboring to remove snow from railroad tracks running through Leelanau County. Peck’s version shows no fewer than four engines working just has hard to accomplish the same feat. Then as now, a picture is no guarantee of the truth.

Explore the creative world of early-20th century postcard making, in Jack Hobey’s “Wish You Were Here: The Edward Beebe Story,” available for checkout at Traverse Area District Library. Have your librarian put a copy on hold today!

Music House Museum: History and Artisanship Always on Display

Phonographs on display at Music House Museum, October 2014.
Acoustic phonographs on display at Music House Museum, October 2014.

Acoustic phonographs and electrically amplified jukeboxes face each other from across the walkway of the Museum gallery, not unlike an alley scene straight out of “West Side Story”. If they had fingers, they would be snapping them menacingly in time with the beat projecting out of their horns and speakers, respectively. The heightened drama of this standoff, one audio technology superseded by another, shouldn’t be lost to visitors of the Music House Museum in Williamsburg, Michigan. Although the display is fantastic, it is hardly the most impressive sight to be seen and heard.

The Music House, a 30 plus year old non-profit museum, is home to one of the larger publicly accessible automated musical instrument collections in the United States, and it is sitting in your backyard. “Automated”, meaning that they are instruments that literally play themselves! Visitors are welcome to explore the vast collection of music reproduction technology found within the 1910 dairy barn and gallery that comprises the public space of the Music House Museum located on the remaining 7 acres of the Stiffler Family farm.

In addition to the instruments already named, you’ll find examples of early radios, 200 year old barrel organs and Turkish and Spanish barrel pianos, American reed pump organs,  two pipe organs, European fairground and dance organs, a Bavarian organ clock, Milton and Duo Art player  and reproducing pianos, several example cylinder and disc music boxes, a rare Lochmann Original 450 disc piano, European and American nickelodeons, and other examples of instruments “featuring mechanical music reproduction some of which predate electricity, Bruce Ahlich, Board Vice-President and Collections Committee Chairman states that  “an important aspect of the Music House Museum, unlike some similar venues, is that if the instrument was not originally electronically amplified or powered, it normally remains so in our collections”.

Estey pipe organ acquired in 1988 from St. Andrew's in Saginaw.
Estey pipe organ acquired in 1988 from St. Andrew’s in Saginaw.

Not only does Ahlich and  his Committee oversee collections maintenance and acquisition of new items, he is also an accomplished local organist who played the dedication recital on the Estey pipe organ acquired in 1988 from St. Andrew’s Roman Catholic church in Saginaw, now located on the raised deck at the Museum and used to demonstrate a Wagnerin organ roll player.  Much of the maintenance and minor restorations of the Museum’s collection of unique instruments takes place on-site in its Workshop.  Larger projects are usually contracted out to outside specialists who engage in that particular type of work.

“Our goal is always to seek to restore the instrument as close as possible, given available materials, to its original condition, which can be a time consuming and expensive proposition”, further states Ahlich.    “Electronic sound reproduction can never replace the experience of an acoustic instrument being played”.   

“We could put CD players with hidden amplifiers in the instruments at a lot less expense, but what kind of Museum would we be and what type of musical experience would our guests have”?   The Music House Museum prides itself in having a majority of the displayed instruments playable with the major instruments demonstrated on every tour to its patrons.

Not ready for inspection! Military chaplain's portable reed organ, World War II-era; Currently undergoing restoration in the Workshop.
Not ready for inspection! Military chaplain’s portable reed organ, World War II-era; Currently undergoing restoration in the Workshop.

Local restoration and repair of instruments is done in a workshop off to the side of the main building by hired and volunteer staff.   Among projects underway is work on the Museum’s Seeburg KT nickelodeon and restoration of an Estey chaplain’s portable reed organ probably used in World War II. The Workshop also stores other automated instruments waiting for funding to be restored.  The workshop construction was paid for by a Rotary Charities grant in the mid-90s, and the volunteers remain grateful for that and other bequests to the Museum. Without this kind of assistance, and funding from individual donors, the Music House could not be what it is, a truly unique museum of musical craftsmanship dedicated to the preservation and education about a type of music that lifts the soul and gives a window to the listener to the past.  Earnings for a Museum instrument purchase/repair endowment fund assist with restorations, but often do not cover their full costs.

Rare 1830s Bavarian Black Forest clock, currently undergoing restoration in the Workshop.
Rare 1830s Bavarian Black Forest clock, currently undergoing restoration in the Workshop.

A fun piece currently being restored is a scarce Bavarian Black Forest floor cabinet organ clock, not yet ready for display that dates from the 1830s.   The principle challenge in this restoration project has been finding a suitable clock mechanism as the original had been long removed before it was received by the Museum.   The piece has stood silent for several decades on display in the Museum galleries.  An English clock mechanism has been found and will be installed by local and nationally known clock artisan, Nathan Bower, together with a new clock face this winter.  When reassembled, the clock will chime the hour and then trigger a small two-rank barrel pipe organ to play.   Ahlich states, “we are really looking forward to have this piece greet our visitors in the lobby when we reopen in for the 2015 season in May.” This project will cost approximately $2,500 to complete.

While the restored clock will be impressive, the original assembly was equally remarkable, as Bruce describes: “In slow winter months, a   village collective would develop between neighbors in the Bavarian region of modern Germany, and a cottage industry creating these intricate clocks was born. Each farmer or craftsman would work on his part; some would be responsible for the wood cabinet, others would build the clock, others craft the face and others build the organ and its mechanism, and finally a last person would assemble the whole clock together.” We might pride ourselves on being a do-it-yourself culture, but I’d say those Bavarian artisans have us beat without the benefit of electricity or computers.

ahlich-lochmann
A 1904 Lochmann Original 450 disc piano. The perforated disc pictured here, along with other mechanisms, plays the piano strings seen behind the disc.

That doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate beautiful craftsmanship when we see it! Take the Lochmann Original 450 disc piano from 1904 on display in the Hurry Back Saloon, a section of the barn restored to appear as an old-timey watering hole and general store. This piece, among the rarest in the Museum’s collections, represents an innovative step in automated instruments and a natural evolution of the disc music box. Before, craftsmen would (expensively) create music boxes by inserting hundreds of pins individually on to metal cylinders; The pins would pluck pitched combs as the cylinder rotated, and the box would play the inscribed melody. The disc music box uses stamped steel discs to achieve the same effect at a much reduced price tag. The Lochmann Originals takes the next step by moving the technology to play a 44 note piano and 12 note chime mechanism.   These instruments were built for a relatively short period of time (less than a decade) and as such are scarce and rare to find in playing condition. They, together with other disc instruments,  were replaced by the player piano and the developing phonograph by 1908-10.    Also silent for many years, the Lochmann is now tuned and playing.     Bruce played a waltz for us using one of the original discs, to show how the hand cranked 150 lb. stone in the back of the cabinet   powered the disc movement to create the music.  Worth the 10 Pfennings this coin-operated machine would have cost you? You bet!

An admirable, if amateur, attempt to build an organ, ca. 1844. Pictured here are the cow-bone keys of that organ... notice anything missing?
An admirable, if amateur, attempt to build an organ, ca. 1844. Pictured here are the cow-bone keys of that organ… notice anything missing?

Not every piece in the Music House is a miracle of invention. Acquired by the Music House in the 1990s, stored for over a decade on the top shelves in the Workshop and finally rediscovered and reassembled and largely restored in the fall of 2013, the cabinet organ pictured here is a fantastic amateur effort to build a home pipe organ. How amateur? Well, the maker forgot to build a place to rest music on.

In addition to that revelation, Museum restorer (Jim Gruber) determined that whoever built the organ was likely a skilled European cabinet maker living in the Southern United States about the time of the Civil War. How did he get all that information from boxes of disassembled parts and cabinetry? The type of wood used to build the cabinet was grown in the South, tulip poplar and gumwood; the keys are made from cow bone, which also places its manufacture in the United States; the maker was not a professional organ builder, as scrap wood and leather was used throughout and the interior shows many efforts at reworking the placement of the organ in the cabinet.  Pages from an old atlas  were used to seal the bottom of the wind chest; the paper in question was taken from an atlas (Olney’s School Geography and Atlas), and have been dated to circa 1844 by the edition numbers found on them. Finally, the maker was likely European, as the notes inscribed on the pipes for their pitches and the cabinet measurements all fit European standards. Restorers and sleuths, the volunteers at the Music House display a variety of talents.

Grand Traverse Journal will feature the Music House again in the spring, when the 1913 Bruder Fair Organ “Columbia” will be back from Ohio, where it is currently undergoing a $12,000 professional restoration that could not be done in-house. A generous $5,000 matching gift, some Endowment monies and private donations have enabled to Museum to fund the project, as well as acquire some new music book stock by which to play it.   

Hurry, the Music House Museum closes January through April, so enjoy the sounds of the season any weekend in December! Decorated for the Christmas season, as docent Becky Gagnon says, “There is a magical feeling every time you walk in!”  The Museum is also open the week between Christmas and New Years from 10 am to 4 pm with continuous docent led tours.  A community open house with refreshments and reduced admission ticket prices is planned for Sunday December 21st 12 noon to 4 pm, where all of the instruments will be demonstrated on a rotating basis playing Christmas music if it is available for them.

Amy Barritt is co-editor of Grand Traverse Journal. This article could not have happened without the generosity of Bruce Ahlich of the Music House Museum. Thanks Bruce!

Exploring History, by Street and by Hashtag

The preservation of history once meant rediscovering things lost (documents, photographs, buildings, etc.) and trying to ensure their physical survival. However, new tools and an eye to the future allow all of us, from professional historians and lay persons, to make a concerted effort to capture our lives and culture now, negating that dangerous period of rediscovery. Cathy and Stella Lancaster are two amateur historians that are doing their part to seek out and secure the culture of their neighborhood for future generations, one front porch at a time.

When asked, Cathy and Stella both are drawn to front porches with decorations. This lovely example has an inviting fall theme.
When asked, Cathy and Stella both are drawn to front porches with decorations. This lovely example has an inviting fall theme.

Like all best friends, Cathy and Stella share a number of interests. These roommates enjoy long walks, playing with children, and making local history of the Grand Traverse Region more accessible. As recent transplants from downstate, the two found their new regular walk on the State and Washington blocks in Traverse City to be rife with interesting architecture, front porches especially.

“Big front porches in Flint were an oddity,” Cathy explains. “Since Traverse City has more alleys, there’s a greater opportunity to have more space out front and a larger porch.”

Cathy’s interest in domestic architecture was refined while working on her undergraduate senior thesis at Kalamazoo College, a history of an island located on one of the 1,000 Islands in the St. Lawrence River, and home to her family’s summer cottage. Architecture classes she had taken in high school informed her thesis, shaping earlier chapters which described how the architecture of the island homes create spaces for friends, family, and neighbors to meet and interact, especially in public spaces like the front porch.

After moving to Traverse City, Cathy was inspired anew by home entrances both simple and elaborate. During Stella’s daily walks, Cathy says she “enjoys taking pictures of all the porches; they’re all unique. Some have spindles on their rails that are really intricate, others are small, some are a bit neglected. They make me wonder about the people who live (or lived) there.”

Originally home to the Bates family, founders of the first newspaper in Traverse City in 1858.
Considered the oldest standing structure in Traverse City, this dwelling was originally home to the Bates family, founders of the first newspaper in Traverse City in 1858. Photo courtesy of the Lancasters, #tcfrontporches on Instagram.

Sometimes, Cathy and Stella’s curiosity is satisfied. “I met the current owner of the Bates house on Washington Street on one of our walks. He told me about the Bates family, who owned the Traverse City newspaper, and that the house was the oldest standing in the City.” (The Bates home was built in 1858; other structures in the city limits have parts older than this, but I believe this is the oldest standing structure.)

Last May, Cathy began posting their discoveries on Instagram, an online site that allows users to share photographs and videos with their friends on social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter, and the project quickly blossomed. In order to collect and easily share her photographs, Cathy created the hashtag #tcfrontporches, and is encouraging others to use it as well.

“What I hope is that others will begin using the hashtag so I can see other people’s neighborhoods, not just my own.”

Hashtags are Friends, not Foes

Social media is pervasive in our lives, and is changing the way we think about historic preservation. When I was training to become an archivist, we learned about the traditional development of archives, where documents and images were retained systematically by an institution to keep a record of operations. Frankly, being responsible for capturing all aspects of our culture with this method is unfeasible, and local historical societies and archives need the people to help us retain what is important.

Although small, Cathy says the lovely garden out front is as inviting as any deep porch. Photo courtesy of the Lancasters, #tcfrontporches on Instagram.
Although small, Cathy says the lovely garden out front is as inviting as any deep porch. Photo courtesy of the Lancasters, #tcfrontporches on Instagram.

Hashtags are a simple and effective way for all of us to post and share photographs, making the topics therein more accessible to current and future researchers. Although the hashtag has gotten some flack for being irritating, unwanted commentary (#fail comes to mind), it is truly a powerful means of assigning metadata (data used to describe an associated object) to photographs and information that help us organize our culture in meaningful ways.

Let’s look at a concrete example of how hashtags can organize a dynamic, active online community. Take a gander at the very popular local Facebook page, “You know you are from Traverse City, Michigan when…”. It is not uncommon to visit the site and see a historic photo with over 20 comments describing the event pictured, who was there, and other fond memories of times past. But the hashtag is seldom seen. What if you wanted to organize all the posts on street views of Traverse City? Now, you would need to manually scroll through all the old posts. Even if you did commit to doing that, you would probably miss some. Creating a hashtag (#tcstreets, perhaps?) to organize, recall, and discover that content is significantly easier. Sharing images, identification information and stories is quick and easy on social media platforms, and can happen whenever a person is free to view, post, hashtag, and share. (Archiving social media is a topic for another article!)

Cathy found this block curious; the dwellings are staggered, with no uniformity of space between the street and the house front. Intentional? Or perhaps the street was moved? Lack of city ordinances when they were built? Perhaps a reader knows! Photo courtesy of the Lancasters, #tcfrontporches on Instagram.
Cathy found this block curious; the dwellings are staggered, with no uniformity of space between the street and the house front. Intentional? Or perhaps the street was moved? Lack of city ordinances when they were built? Perhaps a reader knows! Photo courtesy of the Lancasters, #tcfrontporches on Instagram.

Cathy says that having a way to capture and share pictures of front porches immediately is a must for her. “I probably wouldn’t have started on this project, if it weren’t for having a great camera on my iPhone and ease of sharing with the Instagram app, and I always have it on me.”

Want to know more about hashtags and how to use them for exploring and organizing local history in social media? I started by reading Mashable’s article, “The Beginner’s Guide to Hashtags,” http://mashable.com/2013/10/08/what-is-hashtag/. Happy tagging!

UntitledCathy and Stella Lancaster are not only roommates and best friends; they also work together at the Traverse Area District Library. Cathy is the Youth Services Coordinator, while Stella works part-time as a therapy read-aloud dog. You can meet both (and other furry friends) at Afterschool Adventures: Tell-a-Tail events in the Youth Services department, which take place on the first Monday of every month during the school year, and about 4 visits during summer reading club. The next is Monday, November 3rd at 4:00pm, and look for more at http://www.tadl.org/events/.

Amy Barritt is co-editor of Grand Traverse Journal, and relishes the popularity of mass image organization in social networking platforms.

Take the Fall Color Tour in Traverse City’s 128 year-old Arboretum

Despite the warm afternoon sun, the smattering of color on the trees at the State Hospital grounds in Traverse City is a subtle reminder: cold days are ahead. But now is the perfect time for exploring. The cultivated arboretum on the grounds can be a soothing respite for visitors today, just as it was for patients one-hundred years ago.

The large leaves of Catapa speciosa, native to southern Illionois, enjoys mid-afternoon sunlight and crisp fall breezes.
The large leaves of Catapa speciosa, native to southern Illionois, enjoy mid-afternoon sunlight and crisp fall breezes.

In 1882, while planning the construction of the Northern Asylum for the Insane (there would be three name changes before the final moniker, Traverse City State Hospital), the Board of Trustees put their faith in the plans set by Dr. Thomas S. Kirkbride, a prominent authority on mental health care in the United States during the last half of the nineteenth century. By establishing the asylum as a “Kirkbride Building,” the Trustees were making a statement about the type of care that would be available to patients therein. To sum up Kirkbride’s treatise on the construction of asylums, he believed that one’s surroundings could aid in mental health recovery; or, as local medical giant Dr. James Decker Munson would later put it, “beauty is therapy.”

Twenty-five years into its operation, Munson would describe the site the State Hospital now occupies as the perfect candidate for a Kirkbride building, in that “this tract possesses an almost ideal combination of those features pertaining to an ideal site: a dry, porous soil, consequently healthy, eastern front-age for the buildings, an elevation sightly yet sheltered, an ample supply of pure, artesian water, and excellent facilities for drainage.” Although the site naturally had many of the qualities that promoted its use as an asylum, the wild forested areas and ragged hills that dominated the immediate landscape were not calming tonics for the nervous mind.

Kirkbride advocated that the grounds of an asylum were an extension of the asylum itself, and should “be highly improved and tastefully ornamented; a variety of objects of interest should be collected around it, and trees and shrubs, flowering plants, summer-houses, and other pleasing objects, should add to its attractiveness. No one can tell how important all these may prove in the treatment of patients, nor what good effects may result from first impressions thus made upon an invalid on reaching a hospital”.

Austrian Pine, native of southern Europe, with a bizarre limb formation.
Austrian Pine, native of southern Europe, with a bizarre limb formation.

Many Kirkbride buildings have been demolished over the years, for as we are all aware, the care and maintenance of such structures is a costly endeavor. Fortunately, the State Hospital still stands, and the grounds are littered with many of the same varieties of trees that Munson and the Board of Trustees had planted as early as 1886.

Care to walk the grounds with me? Print (or save to your mobile device) a copy of the map that appears at the end of this article, and we’re off!

The grounds immediately in front of the institution are really fine, and have many interesting and attractive features. They have been carefully planted with trees and shrubs, and with charming effect. Much attention was primarily given to the selection of the trees, and an effort was made to plant all trees that would grow in this latitude. Among them may be found the salis burea, Kentucky coffee, mulberry, box alder, pecan, walnut, butternut, chestnut, hickory, the native beeches, elms and maples, the purple leaf beech, elm, maple, and the Norway maples in many varieties. These trees have attained some size and lend much beauty and interest to the grounds.
James Decker Munson, Board of Trustees Report, 1910

Liriodendron tulipifera is fun for all ages. Look at the shape of the leaves; can you guess why its common name is Tulip Tree?
Liriodendron tulipifera is fun for all ages. Look at the shape of the leaves; can you guess why its common name is Tulip Tree?

This map is an interesting exercise; some of the roads and features are no longer present, as well as some of the trees, but it is still a decent reference for those wishing to traverse the arboretum. A librarian with a long memory at the Traverse Area District Library states that the map was created by the Michigan State Extension, probably in the mid-1980s, so it is clearly time for an update. That won’t deter us, though!

The map legend claims that starred trees are labeled; after attempting to remain faithful to the map, I would have to say there were at least two separate attempts to label the trees. Some of the stars are accurate, but ultimately I found more labels than the map indicates. Being no arborist, I brought along a handy-dandy tree identification field guide with me, which I checked out from Traverse Area District Library, Woodmere Branch. I am not exaggerating when I say this is essential for your visit. Also, give yourself two hours; I was able to cover the highlights in one hour, but missed some of the more remote sections.

With map and field guide in hand, I began on the south end of Building 50, looking for 49: Box Elder. Instead, I found a bizarre Austrian Pine, whose branches wrapped around and away from the building. Perhaps this native of southern Europe was reaching for more sunlight?

Basswood stump, what is left of the original plant, with volunteer trees surrounding.
Basswood stump, what is left of the original plant, with volunteer trees surrounding.

Near the Chapel, I located the Basswood referenced on the map (22), which lead to a happy discovery. Although all that remained of the original tree was a rotting stump, volunteer basswood trees were thriving all around the stump, making a neat refuge for little adventurers. That is the beauty of investing in nature; She has a tendency to give back more than we put in.

By Munson and Kirkbride’s reckoning, my visit was a success. I especially found the natural light-filtering qualities of the leaves of Catalpa speciosa to be particularly soothing to my frazzled, post-summer mind. You’ll find this native of southern Illinois close to the intersection at Silver Drive and 11th Street.

Ready to take the trek on your own? Remember, this arboretum is over 125 years old, so surprises abound. Enjoy the fall color, and don’t forget your map!

arboretum-map1

arboretum-map2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

References:

Board of Trustees. “Report of the Board of Trustees of the Northern Michigan Asylum at Traverse City June 30, 1910,” available online through Traverse Area District Library’s local history collection: http://localhistory.tadl.org/items/show/2009.

Kirkbride, Thomas S. “On the Construction, Organization, and General Arrangements of Hospitals for the Insane,” Chapter 22; available online through the National Institute of Health, US National Library of Medicine Digital Collections: http://collections.nlm.nih.gov/catalog/nlm:nlmuid-66510280R-bk.

Mohlenbrock, Robert H. “MacMillan Field Guides: Trees of North America” (available for checkout at Traverse Area District Library).

Amy Barritt is co-editor of the Grand Traverse Journal.

When Horsepower was Literal: Moving Buildings in the 1890s

We shape our buildings, and afterwards our buildings shape us. -Winston Churchill

Renovation and repurposing are popular. Proud do-it-yourself folk  will be glad to show you the end tables they salvaged to make a bench, or gloat over their latest acquisition from Odom’s (a wonderful reusable building materials supply store in Grawn). We have all sorts of fun jargon to describe these activities: recycling, upcycling, flea market treasure-hunting. Demolition is violent and ugly, whereas reusing materials makes us proud, like the craftsmen of old who hewed their mortise-and-tenon joints one at a time.

Moving a house in 2007.
Moving a house in 2007.

The most ambitious of these projects must be the restoration of an entire building. The end of some buildings, like those recently demolished in Traverse City’s warehouse district, (where concrete block won out over fine architecture) tends not to pull at the heart strings. But in many cases the intrinsic value of a building merits the effort of removal and renovation.

Even if you can reuse a building on a different site, how do you move it safely? In the modern era with equipment and wide-load trucks (a ubiquitous sight when you are needing to get somewhere quickly and are headed down a narrow road with no shoulders), the task is more than possible. But let’s take a look at “then,” when horsepower wasn’t just an abstract unit of measure.

Southside of State Street, original site of the Episcopal Church, prior to 1891.
Southside of State Street, original site of the Episcopal Church; image taken between 1876 and 1891. Image courtesy of the History Center of Traverse City.

The original structure for Grace Episcopal Church was built on property donated by Hannah, Lay & Company, located in Traverse City on State Street between Cass and Union; dedication took place November 12th, 1876.

After construction, the church enjoyed a thriving congregation due to the draw of well-esteemed clergymen, from 1876 to 1886. In that last year, Rev. Joseph S. Large vacated his office due to ill-health and the church found its congregation numbers in a slump, forcing the doors closed until 1891. A new call was put out that year, and the church building was again put to use.

James Morgan, a partner in Hannah, Lay & Company.
James Morgan, a partner in Hannah, Lay & Company. Image courtesy of the History Center of Traverse City.

For reasons not clear now, the location of the building was a problem, but the members deemed the building’s sacred purpose warranted the effort of preservation. In stepped James Morgan, a Chicago businessman and partner in Hannah, Lay & Company, who encouraged the removal of the building to it’s current location at 341 Washington, across the street from the County Courthouse.

Moving the Episcopal Church, 1891.
Moving the Episcopal Church, 1891. Image courtesy of Traverse Area District Library Local History Collection.

By employing jacks, the church was first lifted off its foundation; heavy beams, greased and with pointed ends, were secured to the underside, which would act like runners on a sled. A temporary wooden track made of flat planks and cross ties (similar to railroad tracks) were laid on the roadway, and the structure was pulled across the track on the greased beams. Once part of the track was cleared, workers would move and install the track at the front of the structure, and the job continued.

Capstan and horse used to pull the Church along, 1891.
Capstan and horse used to pull the Church along, 1891.  Image courtesy of Traverse Area District Library Local History Collection.

A capstan was necessary to apply enough force to move the church, as a lone horse wouldn’t be strong enough on its own. This capstan operated much like the ones seen on ships to raise anchor. In the photograph, you can see the capstan was moored in the roadway with large posts driven into the ground and attached with chains.  The horse would rotate the axle by walking in a circle and would pull the structure along the temporary track. As the picture was taken while the horse was resting, the chains mooring the capstan to the ground are slack.

Wondering how much the Church was set back for this endeavor? We are led to believe that Mr. Morgan footed the bill, at a cost of “nearly one-thousand dollars,” or about $30,000 by today’s dollar value.

Both the painted arch and the stained glass windows were salvaged and given a place of honor in the new Episcopal Church.
Both the painted arch and the stained glass windows were salvaged and given a place of honor in the new Episcopal Church.

Ann Hackett, Parish Administrator of the modern Grace Episcopal Church, gave me a tour of the interior of the remodeled church. As she explained, when it became clear that the previous structure was no longer viable, the congregation made every effort to retain the overall feel of the church by focusing on the details.

Melding the old and the new: This cornice was crafted by copying the original cornices. A modern sound system is nestled with this period piece of architecture.
Melding the old and the new: This cornice was crafted by copying the original cornices. A modern sound system is nestled with this period piece of architecture.

The stained glass windows were salvaged and used in the new structure, as was the original altar and painted archway.  The cornices in the modern building were modeled after the original fixtures, and the interior was surfaced in wood bead board, mimicking the interior of the original.

The new baptismal font, which is situated immediately within the Church’s nave, best illustrates the congregation’s drive for authenticity. The original font was too small to meet the purpose of the growing Church; craftsmen created the new font to have a similar overall shape and use the same font-letter style, as shown here. Grace Episcopal Church is a perfect example of the beauty and pride we share when we salvage the past.

The original, much smaller baptismal font on the left; on the right is the new font, which is large enough to feed a walk-in pool.
The original, much smaller baptismal font on the left; on the right is the new font, which is large enough to feed a walk-in pool.

References
Leach, M.L. “A History of the Grand Traverse Region,” 1883.
Sprague, Elwin. “Sprague’s History of Grand Traverse and Leelanaw Counties, Michigan,” 1903.
“The Value of a Dollar, 1860-2014,” fifth edition.
Thanks to www.shiawaseehistory.com for their description of house moving in the turn of the last century.
Thanks to the Binkley’s for allowing use of their house moving photograph through a Creative Commons license: https://www.flickr.com/photos/binkley27/.
Thanks to Ann Hackett, Parish Administrator, and her staff for their time.

Amy Barritt is a librarian at Traverse Area District Library and co-editor of Grand Traverse Journal. She enjoys going out and discovering history, especially when she makes new friends at the same time!

Windows to Our Past: Traffic Warning Signs Along Small Roadways

I am a member of a tiny group of history buffs entitled—we think amusingly—the Backspacers.  We occupy seats in a local coffee place for hours at a time, fueling our discussion of old buildings, old people, and old ways of doing things with plenty of pie and coffee.  While we have enjoyed long residencies in the Traverse area, none of us was born here.  For this we suffer the unspoken scorn of those few families that boast two or three generations in Northern Michigan.  That, however, does not raise our hackles in the least: we accept our short-termer status with grace.

One of the traits of us Backspacers is a pronounced tendency to linger over everyday things that express a connection to the past.  Long have we marveled at manhole covers with the writing “Citizens Telephone Company,” at the blockhouse just under the Union Street dam that was said to hold money for workers in the Flour Mill located there, at the faded printing on a landmark building declaring it to be the “Traverse City Gas Company,” at Civil Defense bomb shelter signs, at the evidence of fire that nearly consumed the Wilson Antiques building.  One of us—me, actually—spent time looking for cinders along Railroad Street, a curving road that paralleled tracks that accommodated coal-burning steam locomotives.

For Backspacers automobile travel can be hazardous.  Rapid stops occur as one or the other of us abruptly notices something out of time: an artesian well, an old home designed by a local architect more than a hundred years ago, the site of an old sawmill, or highway signs that suggest something misplaced in time.  In particular, those signs, yellow with black icons, fill me with joy.

DSCF0164Take note of the warning sign advertising the presence of a fire station, found on Veterans Drive and elsewhere, no doubt.  Is it not comical—the silhouette of a 1930’s fire engine complete with helmeted driver?  How well it communicates “fire truck” with the ladder clearly hanging from the side of the truck.  No modern fire truck could substitute since most of them could be confused with any delivery truck in profile.  Still, you wonder how long we will keep an icon that resembles artwork from a children’s storybook.  A long time, this Backspacer hopes.

IMG_2571The sign for “Farm Equipment” portrays a stereotypical view of the farmer.  An individual with a wide-brimmed hat sits on a primitive tractor, the stalk of grass clamped in his jaws apparently too small to be stenciled.  A modern fancy tractor with its enclosed air-conditioned cab is not pictured—since it lacks the clear connections among man, machine, and farming.  “Cattle Crossing” signs—the animals artfully represented–similarly urge caution in rural communities.

DSCF0165The sign for “Playground” is equally charming: it shows two children on a teeter totter.  Oddly, teeter totters have been banned from modern playgrounds upon the discovery that they have injured large numbers of children.  Still, the image keeps the thing alive—at least for us adults—though young children have no idea what a real teeter totter looks like.  Another sign indicating children at play shows a boy (presumably) in shorts running carefree, possibly across the roadway.  He wears a curious conical hat, something I have never seen on a boy’s head.  Does it indicate archaic style or a figure from a foreign land?

DSCF0170The image of a truck heading down a steep incline denotes a steep hill ahead, but the six-wheeler pictured and the admonition “Use Second Gear” seems out of place and time since it implies a manual transmission with three forward gears.  You can find such a sign on Leelanau County Road 616.  Of course, all of us old timers remember the installation of the “Runaway Truck Ramp” on M72 leading down to the Bay.  Some of us recall the small truck that wound up in the Bay before that salvation was constructed—was it in the seventies?

DSCF0172Pedestrian crossing images tell us something about our society.  The crossing sign near a school shows a larger figure, wearing pants, with his hand on a smaller figure wearing a skirt.  Hazarding a guess about the gender of the figures—and nowadays this is only a guess not a firm conclusion—a man or boy seems to be walking with his hand upon the girl’s arm.  To me this suggests he is protecting her as she braves traffic in the crosswalk.  Could we have the larger figure wearing the skirt with her hand on the boy?  After all, it is just as likely an older sister is guiding her rambunctious younger brother across the street.  But, no—it is the way it is.  Boys protect girls, not the other way around.

Deer signThen there are the wonderful depictions of animals.  In particular, the antlered icon rearing on its hind legs says “Deer” so boldly no one could miss it.  Often sharpshooters are unable to miss them, too, as they pepper them with indentations with their deer rifles, perhaps in frustration at never hitting the real thing. Bear crossing signs appear nearby, too, near Cadillac along highway M115, for one.  The mother bear and her cub are shown, providing gender equality to the buck shown on the deer sign.

Backspacers are not content to note the existence of relics.  They must do research to find out more.  Are the signs of Michigan recognized in other states?  In other countries?  Exactly when were they created and who does the creating?  The web provides us with a few answers: The United States Department of Transportation Federal Highway Administration sets the standards for traffic signs.  It publishes the official manual for signing, the Manual on Uniform Traffic Control Devices (MUTCD).  The manual has been constantly updated from its beginnings in 1935, the latest issued in 2009.

The 1971 edition expanded the kinds and numbers of signs considerably.  An effort was made to bring signs from various nations into conformity, telling us that the rearing deer beloved of Backspacers and most Americans can be seen in countries that deer inhabit.  The figure for Japan, though, faces the opposite direction from its American counterpart since Japanese drive on the left side of the road.  Perhaps the antiquated fire truck pictured on our signs represents those still in operation in less wealthy lands.

The history of standard sign usage goes back to the beginning of automobile travel.  In the first and second decades of the twentieth century there were no standard signs across the United States.  Signs could be any shape, any color, any size—with varying print fonts, messages, and iconic pictures.  In 1927 the Joint Board (a precursor to the MUTCD) published the specifications for the signage we use today.  Warning signs were to be yellow with black print in the shape of a diamond.  The standard shapes and colors for railroad crossings (round), stop signs (octagonal), and informational signs (rectangular) were spelled out in the report.  All at once highway signage had become clear, modern, and universal.

Yellow warning signs have proliferated over the last seventy years, indicating greater sensibility of automobile drivers to their driving environment.  How else to explain “Deaf Child Area”, Moose Crossing, or even an image of a mother duck with her ducklings trailing after—presumably a “Duck Crossing” warning?  We Backspacers hope these images will never disappear even as we proceed into an age without teeter totters and fire trucks without ladders.  Without pretension, they provide windows to our not-so-distant past.

Sessions, Gordon M., Traffic Devices: Historical Aspects Thereof, Washington, D.C.: The Institute of Traffic Engineers, 2029 K. Street N. W., Washington, D.C. 20006, 1971

Richard Fidler is a retired teacher of biology, a Traverse City historian and an editor of the Grand Traverse Journal.

When Lumber and the Railroad Built Kingsley

The property next to the railroad tracks in Kingsley, in 1910 and 2014.
The property next to the railroad tracks in Kingsley, in 1910 and 2014.

When the Brownson’s gifted the parkland near downtown Kingsley to the village in the 1960s, now Brownson Memorial Park, Jay J. and Effie Brownson had been holders of one of the oldest land deeds in the township. The property was originally purchased by Myron S. Brownson in the late 1800s. He wisely leased the property to various lumber-production companies; since the property lay on both sides of the railroad tracks, it was certainly an attractive option for those trying to maximize their use of capital. Lumber dealer Wesley Dunn and his son Howard were leasing the property in 1914, around the same time the Kingsley Library was created by the Kingsley Woman’s Civic Club.

Despite the detritus industry left on the property, the Brownsons were able to reform it at the end of the lumber era. A brick firehouse was erected at some point in the 1910s; devastating fires in 1894 and 1900 ensured that all future building in the downtown area was done in brick, not lumber. The firehouse remained standing until the mid-2000s; after many years of vacancy, the structure was removed to make way for new village offices and the Kingsley Branch Library.

After a vigorous and highly successful fundraising campaign by the Friends of the Kingsley Branch Library, the new library building, pictured above left, opened its doors to the public in February 2009.