Nature

The Sedentary Lives of Moss Animals

I knew from my friend’s lively cry that something big was afoot: “There is some kind of colonial animal living over here!”

She was knowledgeable about outdoor creatures, so I had little reason to doubt her unlikely comment.  I came running over to where she was pointing.

“There, there, at the lip of the spillway—can you see it?”  She was pointing at something twelve feet from where I stood on the concrete abutment above the dam that released water from Lake Dubonet to the Platt River system below.  “No, I can’t see—it’s too dark!

“Just look.  It’s perched on the edge of the spillway.”

My eyes were getting used to the shade cast by the abutment.  “I see it!” I proclaimed, “and I think I know what it is,” I replied with a bit of hesitation in my voice.  “It’s a freshwater sponge!  I haven’t seen one in years.  Let me get a picture of it.”

I worked myself down, as close as I could to where the thing was growing.  It looked like a mass of gelatin, as large as a loaf of bread, without any recognizable appendages, without a head or a tail.  Colonial animals, indeed!  What else could it be?

Image courtesy of the author.

I took a couple of photographs with my camera held down as close as I could get it to the creature.  The flash went off, so dark it was down there.  I include the view in this article along with one taken by someone else, someone with an easier animal to photograph.

When I got home, I immediately began to have doubts about my identification.  Freshwater sponges are not gelatinous, for one thing.  They are rough to the touch, and generally green.  I thought about my Invertebrate Biology course I had taken so many years ago—and I remembered.  I emailed my friend: “It’s not a freshwater sponge.  It’s a bryozoan, a moss animal!” Not having seen the species for nearly forty years, it was easy to see how I could have misidentified it.

Bryozoans are sedentary creatures made up of individuals with scores of tentacles, all of them connected to a horseshoe-shaped structure called a lopophore.  They are not related to corals—which do not have a lopophore—but extract food from the water the same way they do: filtering out living organisms.  This they do by movements of their tentacles and the cilia (moving hairs) upon them.

Fluted Bryozoan in Monterey, California. Image courtesy of Ed Bierman, through Wikimedia Commons: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fluted_Bryozoan_(Hippodiplosia_insculpta).jpg

Like sponges and corals, they encrust various substrates—wood, rock, old tires, even water intakes–scarcely moving during their lives.  The species my friend had found, Pectinatella magnifica, is known to move as a young colony, at the rate of two centimeters per day.  Its possibilities for adventure are clearly limited by its sluggishness.

“Bryozoan” translates from the Greek as “moss animal.”  In both freshwater and salt water, some species form mats somewhat reminiscent of a bank of moss, though they are rarely colored green.  The species I photographed, genus Pectinatella, secretes a gelatinous outer body that looks like an unappetizing jam one might put on bread.  No one would be tempted to do so, however, given its unprepossessing appearance.

However they might offend our mammalian standards for beauty, bryozoans choose attractive ponds and streams to live in: they prefer unpolluted water, water uncontaminated by mud, debris, or pollutants brought in by humans.  Just as lichens point to unpolluted air, bryozoans indicate clean water. 

The life cycle of Bryozoans lacks the drama of sperm from one colony actively seeking out eggs in another.  Generally, sperm cells from one colony fertilize eggs from the same: a larva grows from the fertilized egg, and is eventually released into the water, often as the colony dies at the end of the summer season.

No one brags about the bryozoan he has captured.  No one raves about how good they taste.  No one tells of the sport they had in catching their first bryozoan.  They live uninteresting lives unaffected by the major currents of a world dominated by other organisms.  Does that make them less interesting to those of us who know them?  Not at all.   

Celebrate the People

Life Before the ‘Fridge: Stories of Ice from Josephine Hasse

Ms. Josephine Hasse, a reader of Grand Traverse Journal, was kind enough to write in with a few reminiscences that we are glad to publish. Thank you for sharing your past, Josephine! She turned 96 years-young this past October.

Aerial view of Cherry Growers, Inc., and the Cherry Growers’ wharf on West Bay in Traverse City, 1947. Image from the Local History Collection of Traverse Area District Library.

“My father lived in Traverse City since he was a small child, and I learned much from him. He worked where the Maritime building is now and it was Cherry Growers. He was an engineer and kept the ice machines running.

Since there weren’t ice machines that made ice in people’s homes, people would bring meat that they bought from farmers and had it butchered into family-sized packages. Then they were put into ‘cold storage’ in bins and when families wanted meat he would let them in to get what they wanted.

Workers harvesting ice on Boardman Lake, ca. 1900. Image from the Local History Collection, Traverse Area District Library.

Down the street where the Holiday Inn is there was a huge barn and it was full of sawdust. Men would cut ice from the Bay in large pieces and they would haul it there by horse and sleigh. They would stack it up with sawdust between the layers.

Then with horse and wagon they would go down the streets and sell the ice to people who had Ice Boxes. Homeowners had signs that said 25 lbs. or 50 lbs. and you put it in the front window so the people selling ice would bring in the amount you wanted and filled the Ice Box. It was fun watching for them to come.”

Mystery Photo

Fenton Street Mystery Solved!

Newspaper clipping from the Traverse City Record-Eagle, undated.

Why are Al Hoeflin (left) and Mr. & Mrs. Lane Fenton staring at these street signs in Kingsley in 1960? If you guessed that they are members of a signage admiration society, try again! Here’s your hint: What is unique about the sign that appears above “Fenton St?”

So what’s so important about these street signs? Kingsley was once two separate villages, Paradise and Kingsley Station… and each had their own Main Street! So, when the two eventually merged (sometime between 1900 and 1908), good ol’ Kingsley had two Main Streets. (The merger apparently involved much bitterness on at least one side, but the man who platted Paradise, Myron S. Brownson, did get to name the township and had a major street in Kingsley named after him.)

By 1908, the village began to distinguish between the two as North and South Main Streets. In 1960, the village finally had enough of the whole business, and renamed the street after a third-generation village family, the Fentons.

 

 

Nature

Fisheries Heritage Trail forms to link Michigan Historic Fishing Villages

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Fisheries Heritage Trail Inaugural Meeting, Fall 2017. Image courtesy of the author.

by S.A. McFerran, B.A. Environmental Studies, Antioch University

A new group recently met at Fishtown in Leland to initiate the Fisheries Heritage Trail. The trail will link historic fishing villages throughout the Great Lakes. It will provide access to historic archives relating to commercial fishing as well as the sites occupied by shoreline communities where fishers lived.  The effort is sponsored by Sea Grant, Michigan Maritime Museum, the Pokey Huddle Institute and NOAA Thunder Bay National Marine Sanctuary and others.       

Fresh Great Lakes fish bought in the market are caught by commercial fishers, sports fishers are not allowed to sell fish they catch by hook and line. Commercial fishing operations still use classic high deck tugs that can protect the crew from the weather all year round. The tug I worked on had a coal stove that really kicked out the heat. Trap net commercial operations use vessels with low decks and generally only fish in good weather.

It was decreed with consent that the sports/commercial fishing divide would be defined by kinds of fish caught as well as fishing methods. Commercial fishers catch coregonids, whitefish, chubs, cisco and herring. These native fish of the genus coregonus live in all parts of Great Lakes waters and throughout colder regions of the globe. Sports fishers catch large predator fish that are raised in hatcheries and have biometric tags inserted in their heads as they are released.

As the 20 year period of the consent decree approaches the end, it is apparent that the fisheries resources pie has changed since 2000. While some species have declined others have increased such as walleye in the Saginaw bay. Many feel it would be appropriate to allow commercial walleye fishing in the Saginaw Bay. Randall Claramunt of the DNR has recently talked about “paradigm shift” due to changing fish populations. 1.

The catch of native whitefish (coegonus cupaliformis) in Lake Michigan and Huron is still substantial, 2.2 million pounds in 2015. The trap nets whitefish are caught in stand on the bottom of the lake in shallow areas and are pulled up and checked for fish. The tugs set gill nets that can stand at depths of hundreds of feet.

Commercial fishing vessel at Leland, Fall 2017. Image courtesy of the author.

Aquaculture in Michigan is in service of sportsmen. Sportsfishermen are fishing harder with their hooks and lines for the non-native game fish raised in State of Michigan Hatcheries. The State government has a firm hold on aquaculture and an enthusiastic constituency of sportsmen. As the ecosystem changes and the “consent decree” expires it is time to rethink how fisheries in Michigan are managed. With an eye to history, thoughtful decisions can be made with the consent of stake holders. Many who buy fresh Great Lakes fish in the market recognize the efforts of commercial fishers. Efforts to expand aquaculture operations in Great Lakes waters are long over due.

The Great Lakes Fisheries Heritage Trail can provide perspective on how the fisheries resource has changed. The Consent Decree renegotiation is an opportunity to envision a new paradigm. Former commercial fishers and others knowledgeable in fisheries issues support the expansion of commercial fishing and aquaculture in the open waters of the Great Lakes. State governments have the expertise to manage such operations without interfering with sportsmen as they take their boat rides in fine weather.

1. “King salmon reign becomes more precarious on changing Great Lakes”; Keith Matheny, Detroit Free Press Published, Oct. 23, 2017

Stewart. A. McFerran teaches a class on the Natural History of Michigan Rivers at NMC and is a frequent contributor to the Grand Traverse Journal.

News from the Societies

November Events feature Leelanau Photographer, History of Merchant Shipping, and Genealogy Sharing

Jack Hobey presents Edward Beebe’s Historic Leelanau Photographs
Wednesday, November 15th 4:30pm
at Leelanau Historical Society

 

During the Golden Age of Postcards, Edward Beebe documented the resort, lumbering and transportation history of Leelanau County.  Between 1909 and 1915,  he was the best-known photographer in northern Michigan, using a large format camera and producing glass plate negatives that developed incredible black and white photographs.

He came to North Manitou Island first to photograph its lumber industry. The rugged beauty and the character of its residents captured his imagination and brought him back frequently. Historic Leelanau Photographs of Leland, Suttons Bay and North Manitou Island from 1909 to 1915 captures nearly 300 of these rare historic photos with a narrative of these early times written by Edward Beebe, Jack Hobey expert.

Leelanau Historical Society is located at 203 E. Cedar Street, Leland, Michigan 49654.

Group of Santas at the Mobil Gas Station in Traverse City, ca. 1955. From the Al Barnes collection, Traverse Area District Library.

Grand Traverse Area Genealogical Society Hosts Annual “Holiday Sharing”
Thursday, November 3rd, 1:00 p.m.

Celebrate your breakthroughs in genealogy research (or recruit a few awesome minds to assist you with your brick wall) at GTAGS’ annual “Holiday Sharing” Meeting! Enjoy some social time and engage with others of like-mind.

Meetings are held at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints  3746 Veterans Drive, Traverse City,  Michigan. Event is free of charge and the public is encouraged to attend.

Ships at the Traverse City docks. (R-L)”Che-qua-me-gon”, “Illinois”, “Manistique, Marquette and Northern No. 1 ferry ” on far left, taken by Orson W. Peck, 1908. Image from the Historical Society Collection, Traverse Area District Library.

John Brian presents A History of Merchant Shipping on the Great Lakes
Sunday, November 19th, 1-3 p.m.
at Traverse Area Historical Society

Join us on Sunday, November 19th, 1-3 p.m., when John Brian will speak on the history of Merchant Shipping on the Great Lakes in the Twentieth and Twenty-first centuries. Brian is recently retired from serving over 25 years as a merchant marine deck officer on the Great Lakes.

Traverse Area Historical Soceity’s Monthly History Series meetings take place in the McGuire Room at Traverse Area District Library, 610 Woodmere Ave., Traverse City. Event is free and open to the public.

Nature

Railroad Tracks: Pathways for Plant Dispersal

Outside Oryana Food Co-op at Lake St. and Tenth, just beyond the old railroad yard, a stand of grass grows far taller than my six-foot frame.  The stalks are sturdy and straight, colored with maroon, gold, and a touch of blue at the nodes where the leaves come out.  They grow in the rubble of a formerly active railroad, amid the cinders, stones, broken glass, and pieces of coal of the roadbed.  Alongside the tallest grasses is a shorter species which looks much like the larger, but reaching only a bit above my knees.  It definitely plays second fiddle to its larger cousin.

Little Bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium). Image courtesy of the author, taken in October 2017.

I know these grasses.  The larger is Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), and the smaller—appropriately—Little Bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium).  Both are native to Michigan, the smaller species quite common along interstate highways and sandy, well-drained fields in locations where farming proved nearly impossible decades ago.  Big Bluestem is harder to find: the most likely place in Northern Michigan to find it is near Lake Michigan among the dunes.

Both grasses are prairie species. As components of that ecosystem, they depend upon environmental disturbance for their survival, that taking the form of occasional drought, fire, and windblown soil.  In Michigan we do not have good examples of prairie ecosystems.  Perhaps the oak openings around Kalamazoo and the sandy, unstable soils near Lake Michigan come the closest, but they lack many prairie species present further west.  Sleeping Bear dunes has areas heavily populated with prairie grasses, especially Big and Little Bluestem.

Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii). Image courtesy of the author, taken in October 2017.

If prairies are the natural habitat of these grasses, then why are they found along railroad tracks?  Two reasons occur to me: first, railroads do away with woody plants growing near the tracks through pruning or herbicides.  With no trees to shade them out, grasses have the advantage.  The second reason has to do with fire.  Before the days of diesel engines, fires along railroad tracks were common as hot cinders escaped the smoke stacks of steam engines.  Fire would spread from the tracks, sometimes starting wildfires that extended for miles.  Of course, lightning causes such fires, too.

Michigan does not have the endless oceans of grass rippling in the wind as the Dakotas or eastern Montana do.  Buffalo did not wander among stalks of Big Bluestem that grew shoulder-high to those animals.  The sky did not spread to the far horizon, creating a sense of both immensity and emptiness as Western writers describe for us.  Instead, here the hills and trees make for a more closed—some would say, friendly environment.  Still, in small places and large expanses all around—by old railroad tracks and in sand dunes—we get a hint of the prairie further west, only we must search hard to find it.  Look along railroad tracks to find Big and Little Bluestem before the snow presses their stalks to the earth.

Forgotten Stories

O.W. Johnson’s Humorous Poetry, 1916

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O.W. Johnson, the author of the following poem, was one of the Johnson Boys, sons of Johnson, all of whom were lumbermen. They may have all spent time in the woods, as O.W. mentions here, but the family made their money speculating and trading lumber, as opposed to cutting it themselves.

O.W.’s untitled poem is a humorous little ditty, written by an amateur poet  (at least, we did not find anywhere that he had been published.) It was recently rediscovered among the working papers of the Johnson family in the Traverse Area District Library Local History Collection by our good volunteer, Marlas Hanson, and we simply found it too fun not to publish!

Untitled Poem by O.W. Johnson

There was a well known lumberman who bought a Willys Knight
He thought his car was just about the only thing in sight.
And after work was finished and the stars were shining bright
He’d steal away from Sam’s Cafe into the Silent Night.

Now as I said before this man was just a lumberjack
And had a little office up along the railway track.
But now he was a city man, a guy who had the goods
Said he “With this new Willys Knight I’ll steer clear of the woods.”

Advertisement for 1960s Willys-Knight Model 84 Limousine. Image courtesy of Alden Jewell, made available through license CC BY 2.0, https://www.flickr.com/photos/autohistorian/31890309712.

He stood before the shining car and thought she was a dandy
Electric lights and left hand drive would make it pretty handy;
So on one fine October day he thought he would decide
To take a Traverse City friend out for a little ride.

The question was where would they go — Old Mission would be nice
Said W.E. “I think that we have both been out there twice,”
She turned and looked into his eyes and said, “I guess you’re right,
We did go to Old Mission, but it wasn’t in the Knight.”

“It’s erysipelas to me just where we drive,” said he
“There’s gasoline and oil enough to run to Tennessee,”
“It that’s the case” said she “I think we could run out to Empire,
I have the latest style in hats and wish to find a buyer.”

They dined and had a pleasant time, to leave it seemed a pity
But soon were on the winding road that leads to Traverse City,
The stars came twinkling out above, the occupants were merry
The purring of the engine showed the load it had to carry.

Upon a hill ahead of them two glaring head-lights shown
The steering-gear was turned at once into a safety zone,
The other car came coasting down and after it had passed
The Lumberjack exclaimed “Good-night, I think we must be fast.”

He pushed the throttle higher and the tires spun round and round
‘Twas 15 miles to Empire and 10 to Traverse town,
He heard a crushing, grinding sound that made him have his fears
But then he never dreamed that he had ripped and stripped the gears

Frank Haden & sister Miriam, with Frank attempting to repair their auto. From the Hanley Wilhelm Photograph Album of pictures taken by Wilhelm and his friends in the early to mid 1910s.

He sat there thinking what to do and then began to scold
The lady said “I’ll stand it if I do not get too cold,”
The hint was plain enough alright, but Johnson was too sore
Said he “These damn Knight cars are punk I’ll not buy any more.”

The time was flying fast, and the moon was getting higher
The hero thought he’d warm her up by building her a fire
“Perhaps you wouldn’t be so cold if you’d sit on the hood,
Don’t be afraid I’m only going off to carry wood.

But wood was scarce expect a little just around the car
And Mr. Johnson didn’t like to carry things too far,
He hurried to a farm house and called up Mr. Dutt,
A Traverse City auto man, quite small around the gut.

And soon this brave mechanic was flying to the scene
He glided up to Johnson just like a submarine,
“What in Hell’s the matter?” Dutt yelled out as he stopped,
But Johnson was dumfounded and very nearly dropped.

“Holy Moses Johnson, I thought you were alone.”
“Never mind that Dutt, I want to get back home.”
“Have I hurt the car” said Mr. J. His eyes were full of tears.
“Oh no” smiled Dutt “not at all, you only stripped the gears.”

SIGNED

O.W. Johnson
11-20-16

Celebrate the People

The Perils of Personal Remembrances as Sources of Historical Information

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by Richard Leary, Historian of Lake Ann

After a dozen years researching the history of Lake Ann, Michigan, it has quite evident that people’s memories are not always accurate. People can be very certain of a date or name or event and be quite wrong.

The first instance of this in my research on the village of Lake Ann were the dates of the three major fires that burned significant portions of the village. The first and by far the greatest was on the fourth of July, 1897. That date is well known to village residents.

The second fire, that burned the business district, is known far and wide to have occurred in 1914. That date was established in a newspaper story many years ago and the date 1914 has been repeated ever since. Unfortunately, a check of old newspapers proves that the fire was in 1902.

The third fire, known widely as the 1917 fire was in April 1918 and we mark its anniversary next year.

A grist mill, but not owned by a Thompson, in Lake Ann, undated. Image courtesy of the author.

Another erroneous fact is the identification of the grist mill in Lake Ann as the Thompson grist mill. People have said for many decades the Harvey Thompson built and ran the grist mill.

However, a search of tax records and deeds shows that no Thompson ever owned or ran the grist mill. Harvey Thompson and a partner, Mr. Elton, started a saw mill about a hundred yards from the grist mill about the same time (1896 and 1893 respectively). After just a few years, the mill was sold to William Habbeler who built, owned and ran the first and biggest saw mill in Lake Ann.

It would appear the proximity of the mills, the passage of time and the vagaries of memory combined to mix the mills.

Now I am on anther quest, trying to unravel memories, written account and sketchy facts. Once again I rely on tax records, land records, village minutes and newspaper mentions to find the truth.

The story begins with more “well known” information. About 1900, two houses were moved from along Ransom Creek, site of the first settlement in the Lake Ann area.  At the time it seemed houses and even large buildings were moved from place to place, usually on sleds over frozen ground or ice covered lakes.

Elijah Ransom owned the saw mill operating beside the creek and later a grist mill. There was a cluster of shanties, a couple of houses and a large store close by.

We know from contemporary newspaper accounts that Addison Wheelock, first settler in the Lake Ann area, had a home in that settlement. His home was large enough that the planning session for creating Almira Township and the first meeting of the elected township officials took place in his home.

I assume that Elijah Ransom, being the most prosperous person around, had a decent home there as well. Because this all took place in the early 1860s, tax and land records are rather limited. People didn’t always own the land they were occupying.

Having prowled the woods along Ransom Creek, I know of three depressions where the village must have stood. The largest is surely the site of the store. The two smaller are, I believe, the sites of the two real houses in the early settlement.

Believing that the accounts of two houses being moved from near Ransom Creek to the southeast corner of the village, it made a good story that these house belonged to Elijah Ransom and Addison Wheelock. 

The “well known” story was that these two houses were later occupied by the Dr. Shilliday family (now the Shilliday House B&B) and the Burnett house just to the south, also on South Lake Ann Road. The latter once occupied by S. S. (Sam) Burnett, local businessman and family and later by the Bryan family.

It was such a great story. I had located a house once lived in by Addison Wheelock, my wife’s great-great-grandfather. I thought I was finally through my Lake Ann research.

Ah, but questions arose. Not everyone was certain the Burnett house had been moved. Or perhaps not in 1902 as the village minutes had led me to believe. The village minutes did say the Ransom store and A dwelling were moved from along Ransom Creek in 1902. Back to the Benzie County Court House.

The tax records indicate several owners of lot 4, block 29, site of the Burnett house, in the years between 1895 and 1903. For all but 1895, the value of the property suggests a house was on the lot. But, of course, there is no information about the house, certainly not its history.

Mr. Degan, an early owner of the lot on which the Burnett house stands (1899-1903), served on the village board and was active in moving mill machinery, water works pumps and water pipes off the Ransom Creek site. Degan and Huelmantel bought “the entire water works machinery and wheel and the mill machinery in the old mill” for the sum of $250 in 1900. Could Mr. Degan have moved a small house without a mention in the minutes? Oh yes, in 1901 a “wagon shed or house” on the creek was sold to someone for $4.00.

Ah, but there is more.

In 1900, the village approved the rental of “the old Ransom house” to a Mr. Thatcher for $2.00 per month. Of course, they don’t say where that house is located. Still by the creek?  Surely not the Burnett house. Mr. Thatcher paid taxes on a lot on Lynwood, three blocks from South Lake Ann Road and the Burnett house. Was he living in the “old Ransom house,” now located on Lynwood Street?

Granted, knowing which house was where 117 years ago is not crucial to Michigan history. Even I don’t lie awake nights wondering. But for the sake of accuracy, and personal curiosity, I would like to know.

So, while I know with certainty that memories, and even some newspapers stories, can be inaccurate, I do not know which house is which. It is like trying to keep track for which nut shell hides the bean as they are shuffled rapidly before your eyes.

Personal “histories” or reminiscences can be very useful. even indispensable but they must be supported by facts such as deeds of tax records.

When I was young, there was a popular radio program about the FBI and crime. The lead character was Sergeant Friday and his iconic statement was, “I just want the facts, m’am, just the facts.”

At least I think his name was Sergeant Friday and I think that is what he said.

Richard Leary is an active volunteer at the Almira Historical Museum in Lake Ann. Leary is passionate about exploring and documenting the history of Almira Township, and finds inspiration equally in studying written records and in traversing the fields.