HISTORICAL INCIDENTS |
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It was back in 1878 when the little village of Pickford had its first baby. A son, Alexander, was born to Mr. and Mrs. James Clegg on March 7, 1878. Most of the older people of the Pickford area believe that Mr. Clegg was the first white baby to be born in Pickford.
There were only a few people living in Pickford at that time. It was primarily a farming community just as it is today. Only a few people who had occupations other then farming lived in town. There was a small store to serve the people. There was also a feed mill for the farmers.
Mr. Clegg was born and lived in Pickford most of his lifetime. Mr. Clegg had four brothers and two sisters. In 1904 he married Ida Kennedy. In 1905 a son, Otto, was born to Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Clegg. Not long after that a daughter, Ruth was born and later another daughter, Lois.
One occupation of Mr. Clegg's was to work in the newly constructed Rockview Fire Tower. He was the first to work there, which was in 1924. Then for three years he worked for the Conservation Department in Sault Ste. Marie. He retired in 1949 after twenty-five years of service. On July 5, 1959, Alexander Clegg passed away and was buried in Bethel cemetery.
ADDITONAL NOTE: According to Mr. Bayliss of Sault Ste. Marie, who has written a book on the early history of this area, the first baby born in Pickford was Frank Pickford, born on March 4, 1878. This would be three days earlier than the birth date of Alexander Clegg on March 7.
By Robert Nettleton
I can see the little cabin with the stable standing near.
I can hear the wild birds singing the song I loved so dear.
Then when I'd return at mealtime as I had often done before,
I can see my father sitting at the little cabin door.
I can see the trails he rambled o'er the hills and through the dell
I can see the rabbits running, I can hear the coyote's yell.
I can hear the horses whinny in the eve when all is still.
I can see the cattle grazing over yonder on the hill.
I can see the red sun setting in the crimson colored west;
I can hear the night birds singing all the weary world to rest.
I can see the open window where the lamps would nightly burn;
I can see my father sitting, waiting there for my return.
I can see the shining lily as it budded in the spring;
I can see the wild geese flying, I can hear the robin sing.
I can see the shining raindrops when the rainbow would appear;
I can hear the leaves a'rustling with the running of the deer.
I can hear the night wind moaning through the spruce and balsam trees.
I can hear the songs of nature as they floated on the breeze.
I can see the pale moon shining on the little cabin floor.
I can hear my father singing as he did in days of yore.
I can hear the thunder rolling, I can see the lightning gleam.
I can see the rippling water as it flowed down the stream.
I can heat the night bird calling with its voice so loud and shrill;
I can see the red squirrel running, I can hear the shippoorwill.
I can see the spruce and balsam with their bough load of snow.
I can see the pale moon shining on the valley far below.
I can see the load of pulpwood that I used to climb upon;
I can hear the old sleigh howling at the breaking of the dawn.
There were three ways to get to the Soo in the early days. One was by going north four miles, then west to the Mackinaw Trail, then north to the Soo. Another way was to go straight north, but on this route you could not take a load. An empty wagon might make it in good weather. The third way was by boat from Jolly's Landing at what is now Stirlingville (The Northern Belle).
Dr. Webster had one of the hardest jobs in the early days and this was to pull Mr. Isaac Watson's tooth. He couldn't get it out, so he had Mr. Watson lie on the floor and Webster put his knee on him and finally landed it.
In 1909 Dave Beacom was the first to carry passengers in a car back and forth to the Soo. Mt. Dunes was one of the first to deliver mail to the Soo. Some other men who carried mail to the Soo in the early days were S. G. Wilson, Tabor, and J. H. Crawford.
Harry Draper had the first gas station in Pickford. It was located where the Lipsett storage garage on Main Street is now.
Mr. James Clegg was the first township highway commissioner in Pickford Township.
Some of the first settlers were C. W. Pickford and his family, James Clegg and his family, and Henry Gough and his family.
Richard Rye was the first man to have a threshing machine in this area. It was run by horsepower. Mr. Pickford had a sloop by which he brought supplies from the Soo. Later he bought a larger boat from some Indians who agreed to bring it to the mouth of the Munuscong River. On the appointed day Mr. Pickford, Tom Morrison and William Best started down the river in a rowboat. After looking over the boat, they began to feel hungry, for they had not brought any dinner. The Indians had brought some barrels of flour and a barrel of molasses for Mr. Pickford, so when they found a frying pan and a little stove in the John Auger (the boat), they mixed the flour with water and made pancakes and bored a hole in the molasses barrel to get some molasses for them.
Some of the first cars in Pickford were owned by George Wilson, Ed Taylor, Tom Best, Dave Beacom, and Fred Taylor. Some of these cars were truck type and others were passenger cars. They were Dodges and Studebakers.
Most of us are familiar with the term, "Black Gold." For the benefit of those who have never heard the term before, it means oil and is generally connected with a new well which has just been blown.
This could, and almost did, happen in our small community of Pickford some sixty or seventy years ago. There are no concrete records as to when this episode in our history took place that your reporter could dig up, so the following has been gathered from hither and yon, part by part. If you will fill in the gaps with your imagination, between the two of us, we will get a brief look into one of the interesting events in this village history.
Let's go back to the turn of the century. The first inkling that anything out of the ordinary was taking place was evidenced by some strangers in town, who were contacting local businessmen to interest them in a venture into the realm of oil. To show that their interest was more than curiosity, the Pickford group was asked to invest in stocks which would finance the drilling of the first well at Pickford. In no time at all, the stock was disposed of. The drilling equipment was quickly erected just at the northeast fringe of town. Boring was soon underway. Interest ran high. From early in the morning until dusk local and rural spectators could be found at the site. Day after day, week after week, the drilling progressed. Deeper and deeper went the hole. The village and surrounding population was aquiver with expectation. Down and down they went, one hundred feet, two hundred, then five hundred, then a thousand feet. Suspense was building up to enormous proportions. Then at fourteen hundred feet, they hit it. OIL! No! Water. But what water and what quantities! Literally thousands of gallons of beautiful crystal liquid came booming forth. A sad ending? Quite the contrary. For you see, to this day almost half the population of Pickford is dependent on this never interrupted supply. Though the pressure has decreased somewhat over the years, our OLD FAITHFUL still pours out a beautiful flow and a small geyser can still be seen pouring from the pressure cap, from as far away as two city blocks.
In November 1932, a fire starting from a coal furnace explosion in the telephone office destroyed the Pickford Roller Mill, Pickford Post Office, Pickford Telephone Company office and building of the John Kay estate on Main Street at an estimated loss of $34,000.
The four buildings were located between the brick building of the Pickford Bank and the Munuscong River Bridge on the north side of the street. The loss, covered by about $6,000 was as follows: Pickford Roller Mill, including Post Office annex: $25,000, Pickford Telephone Company: $5,000; John Kay Estate: $4,000.
Contents of the mill, owned by Fred J. Smith, who was also the Postmaster, went up in smoke. They included 1,800 bushels of peas, feed grain flour, machinery and equipment. Mail in the Post Office building which adjoined the mill on the west was saved, as was the equipment. The telephone company loss was complete, including switchboard, electrical stock, storage telephones and cables. The Kay building, two stories, was unoccupied, but used for storage by the telephone company and the Central Grocery. Nothing was saved.
Herman Gough, 25, of Pickford, was taken to the War Memorial Hospital with a broken leg. Gough was carrying a sack of grain from the third floor of the mill when he slipped and fell downstairs.
Frank H. Taylor, president and night operator of the telephone company, was the first to discover the fire at 6:00 a.m. He went to stoke the furnace. "I returned to the switchboard," Mr. Taylor said, "and started to handle the usual calls. I just got through putting in a call for a doctor wanted in the country when I heard an explosion in the basement." Rushing downstairs with a fire extinguisher, Mr. Taylor was met by a black column of smoke that almost overcame him.
Describing the fire, Mr. Taylor said, "I ran back upstairs to the switchboard and placed a call to my son, Percy, the manager, and then ran into the street to call for help. I had to leave without my hat, coat, or shoes because the fire broke right through the floor."
Percy answered the call at his home and finding no one on the line, returned to bed. But realizing that a long ring might mean a robbery or other emergency he went to the window to look at the building already breaking into flames. The day was clear and calm.
Burning of the exchange cut off lines to DeTour, Cedarville, Hessel, and Rudyard, where branch offices of the Pickford Telephone Company were located. A temporary office was set up in the Fred H. Taylor hardware and one of the hand-operated switchboards at Cedarville was set up for operation.
"The telephone exchange was to have been moved soon," Mr. Taylor said "We had been contemplating a move for the last year."
The building was rebuilt at once and the telephone office was in a building by itself. One of the biggest losses in equipment was a new Western Union teletype machine which was connected directly with the Sault office and which had been recently installed.
"It. was useless to put water on the mill," Mr. Smith, owner, said. "We had time to get 35 or 40 sacks of mail and other equipment out of the building and a little grain was carried out. The big loss in the mill was two bins of materials. The peas, beans, grain and feed were all placed in huge bins and it was almost impossible to get them out."
Besides the two and one-half carloads of peas, there were electrical motors for grinding. The big machine was near the door, but volunteers were unable to move it.
"It was the year 1884 when myself and two boyhood friends were sitting on the loading dock at Mr. Stirling's store, located just below the hill at Stirlingville. Suddenly the stillness was broken by loud swishes, mixed with sharp blasts from a boat whistle.
"We leapt to our feet, fishing forgotten, for around the bend in the river came the Northern Belle. She was an enormous craft in our eyes with her paddle wheels churning the smooth surface of the river as she made her way to the dock."
These were the words of one of the old-timers of Pickford. He was John Eveleigh, who came here from Canada at the age of two years with his father, Joseph, and family, to settle on a piece of land at Stirlingville. The deed for said parcel was signed by Grover Cleveland. Details on this period in Pickford and Stirlingville are vague, depending on the memory of the oldsters.
The Northern Belle was one of the two supply boats responsible for the early settlement of this section of the country, for she brought in needed supplies and persons who would otherwise have looked for another place to settle because transportation was indeed a problem. There were no roads, what trails there were had been slashed through virgin timber, passable only on foot or horseback. This left the principal traffic lane the water route, which challenge was answered by the Northern Belle.
From widely assorted information and imagination, here is a word picture of this workhorse of the river. She was 46 feet long, 26 feet wide, not counting the paddle wheels which jutted out, one of each side. These wheels were six to eight feet in diameter and four feet across at the blades. She was built to maneuver in shallow water as well as deep, changing the direction by the paddles, which could turn forward or back, individually or simultaneously. Her draft was less than four feet, permitting her to travel the route from the Soo River to Stirlingville. Persons or supplies bound further up the river had to change to sailboat or other like size craft as the river narrowed and became shallower.
Other than a pilothouse and small cabin there was no superstructure on the Northern Belle. She was powered by a wood-fired steam engine. Her crew was four or five men-master, engineer, and deck hands. Occasionally she ran an excursion to Drummond Island, Thessalon, Ontario, returning to Stirlingville.
People of this vicinity owe a lot to the ship. Though her day is over, she is still remembered by the oldest citizens of Pickford.
Clifford Roe, a grandson of Samuel Roe, lives on the original farm that was settled in 1875. Mr. Roe was the first settler in that area and was a "Land Looker" for the state for several years.
About 1883 the first school north of Pickford was built on the corner of the farm where Austin Wynn now lives. It was a one-room frame building and at one time had 100 students. Samuel Roe and Wesley Wynn were two of the first board members. James McDonald built a new brick school in 1916 and Fern Baker of Rudyard was the first teacher. This school was closed in 1929. For a number of years the original school was also used as a church. The first cemetery was started on the sand ridge on the William Graham farm. Later a church was built across the road from the cemetery on the Raynard place. It was called the Bethel Church and the cemetery was named the Bethel Cemetery.
Teachers in the school north of Pickford included Bella Roe in 1884, followed by Arvid Miller, Miss Strickland, Miss Williams, Barbara Darrock, Miss McMullen, T. B. Aldtich, Agnes Wynn, Tom Barton, Milford Smith, Minnie Duncan, William McClain, Jennie Haugh, Mary Allen, Charles Perkins, Leta Taylor, Ann Duncan, Fronie Bois, Fern Baker, and. Irene Hughes.
Mr. Robert Roe had the first threshing machine in the area north of town and James McDonald had the first reaper. It didn't tie the bundles. Both were operated by horse power.
(From the Evening News of Jan. 5, 1938) By W. H. Goughn
To the Editor:
I shall try to give a little history and an experience during my early days in Pickford. I came to Pickford June 21, 1877. I arrived here on Sunday and started to work for Mr. Charles Pickford the next day and continued work through the summer. My first job was helping to raise a log building on the farm now owned by Harry Best. At that time the Pickford family was living in a board shanty but Mt. Pickford built a good farmhouse that summer, which is now owned by F. H. Taylor.
During the summer of 1877 quite a number of people came here, took up land, built log shanties, and then in the fall brought their families. In total there were six families: the Pickford, Crawford, Clegg, Cook, George Raynard, and William Gough families.
In those days there were plenty of wild animals in the woods. Charlie Pickford and I had an interesting experience with bears the first summer in Pickford. We were going to Donaldson and on the trail we were faced by a big bear. We drove the bear to the west of us, and for a moment stood talking about how easy it was to chase a bear. But turning around, to our surprise, we saw two large bears coming toward us. I shouted, "Let's climb a tree." We started climbing a nearby tree but Charles shouted that he couldn't climb.
When we had climbed up the tree some I looked down and right at the trunk of the tree we climbed up, sat the two bears and a second later they were making their way to climb the tree after us. We slid down the tree some and then jumped, landing on the ground a few feet from the bears who faced us standing on their hind feet. They looked at us fiercely as if they were waiting their chance to pounce on us.
One bear then started at Charlie Pickford and backed him towards the trail. When Charlie struck the trail he ran as fast as he would, hollering, "Will!" The other bear came at me, and after backing me for some distance I turned and ran with leaps and bounds to get to the trail but thinking any moment the bear would have me. When I reached Charlie I found him trying to build a fire on the river bank to keep the bears away. We rested a few minutes and thought what a close call we had, but the joke of it all was, we had climbed the tree that the bear's clubs were in, and of course this made the old bears angry.
In making my escape I lost my hat and suggested to Charlie that we go back and get it, but Charlie answered sharply, "I wouldn't take the United States to go back for that hat." With some degree of braveness I started to find my hat, and when I came to it I could see the two old bears again sitting at the trunk of the tree with the two cubs up it. And they watched me as I grabbed my hat and ran.
It was the summer of 1878 that things seemed to move ahead and development was made in many directions. More people settled here. Pretty soon we had a store, blacksmith, shop, boarding house, grist mill, saw mill, and Mr. Charlie Pickford built a frame barn.
Our first meeting place for worship was held in the Pickford home. For the first few years Mr. Donaldson walked from Donaldson to Pickford every Sunday to hold church: service and everyone in the settlement would be out to hear him preach. Then a Methodist church and a school house were built. Our first stationed minister was Rev. James Pascoe.
Weldon and Henry Pickford had our first store. In the summer they got their supplies from the Soo by boat. The name of the boat was the "John Augor" and landed at Jolly's Landing, which is now called Stirlingville. The John Augor didn't make its trips very regular. It was not unusual for the store and the whole settlement to be out of flour for days until the boat would arrive. Then everyone would rush to the store with a cotton bag to carry home some flour.
(From the Evening News)
Something new was added to the carnival this year, when one of the oldest men in the Upper Peninsula kept the audience spellbound while telling them jokes and repeating Indian poems he had remembered from his youth. Some of the people were disappointed because Mr. Nettleton did not display any of his stunts but the majority of the people realized that this "grand old fellow" is nearing the century mark.
(Composed by Barney Nettleton)
I with my statute labor just finished today, I met Joe Barton coming home on
the way;
I inquired for his welfare, wife, children and all. He said, "Come, view the
painting in our Orange Hall."
We do not assemble for strife or contention, nor think that our order should
grant us a pension, But to
show to the world that we’re loyal and true, For we are the knights of the
Orange and Blue.
Now we have a master Sir Allen by name; when it comes to the test you will find
he is game.
And there's our financer, Frank Watson also, when a bill's to be paid he never
says no.
And there's our chaplain; he is Scotch to the core - - now for such members I
wish we had more.
He's always so jolly, kind-hearted and true, you know he's a knight of the
Orange and Blue.
If sickness or sorrow should come on a pace, to help out a brother we're all in
the race;
We'll show to the world that we're loyal and true, We'll extend him our hand
thru the Orange and Blue.
There's the rose and the shamrock and thistle you see, Means three little
islands that lie in the sea.
There's faith, hope and charity that unite us all, like brothers we meet in our
Orange hall.
I think I will finish and come to a close; I am not a scholar as everyone knows.
Last twelfth of July did great credit to all, and long may we meet in our Orange
hall.
(Newspaper clipping from November 20, 1917)
A farewell in the way of a social function was held in the Orange Temple Tuesday evening in honor of the boys who have left for military work. The boys drawn are: Pickford Township - Andrew J. Smith and Ford Bawks (the latter has been temporarily exempted); Marquette Township - Anarew S. Cowell, Otto L. Hillock, George A. Slater and William H. C. Wise.
The boys were in good spirits and while the thoughts of leaving home and the uncertainty of the future could not heap but enter into the minds of all, the boys were brave and showed their willingness to serve the country.
Evangelists Shelldrake and Shivas who are holding special meetings here went to the hall and made a few remarks in the way of encouragement and admonition to the departing boys. The boys seemed to deeply appreciate the kindliness of the evangelists.
Charles Otto Van Sickle was born in Lexington, Sanilac County, Michigan, on September 29, 1876. He married Nellie Weston and they had one daughter, Eva. He entered evangelistic work and was given a local preacher's license, supplying the Pickford M. E. Church, which comprised the appointments of Rockview, Stirlingville, Bethel, Stalwart, and Zion. He died May 3, 1912. The following poem about him is by Mrs. John Steele.
Again the grim reaper of death has appeared and taken from our midst a pastor
so dear;
It's Rev. Otto Van Sickle, aged thirty-five, who has passed over to the other
side.
With the bereaved ones our sympathies mingle, for their great sorrow and their
loss,
But we commend them to the Father who doeth all things for the best.
They have lost a loving father and a husband kind and true,
We have lost a friend and pastor who was loved and respected by all those he
knew.
He was a faithful Christian worker, while on this earth he dwelled,
For he fought the fight, the victory he won, and he's entered into his test.
He was not afraid to die, death had lost its venom sting,
And out great loss was his gain; All glory to Great God our King.
He's now dwelling in that city with its streets of pure gold,
And its walls are all of jasper; Oh, half of its beauty has never been told.
Oh! think of that home over there, by the side of the river of life.
There is never night over there, For Jesus Savior is the light.
That city is ours by redemption, It was bought by the blood of the Lamb.
And those that are washed and forgiven can enter into that promise land.
And then we will meet Brother Van Sickle, and all those that have gone before,
And there never will be any more parting, when we meet on that golden shore.
(From a news clipping of Dec. 10, 1936.)
John Daley, of Parkhill, Ontario, one of the first pioneer settlers of Chippewa County, in a letter to the editor of the Evening News, tells of his early experiences in this county. Mr. Daley's letter is as follows:
I have been taking your paper for 35 years and have missed but two copies. I was one of the first settlers in Pickford 55 years ago. Pussy Day carried the mail with dogs from the Sault to St. Ignace through the woods before the trail was cut through for stages. There was a stopping place at the huckleberry patch, one at Pine River, and one at the Carp River.
The first preacher was Mr. Donaldson, who walked over the survey line, to four miles north of Pickford, then to Blair's settlement and then to Stirlingville. I walked through the ox trail through the swamp with Sandy Hill. There were no bridges then; there was no Pickford then, only his barn and house. He came from Bayfield, Canada. Lots of people followed to Pickford and took up homesteads and settled about 1,000 acres. Hank Pickford had a little boat with which he brought things to his store. He had a sawmill.
I cradled five acres of wheat in one day and helped to stack some. Duncan McKenzie and Erastus Fleming bound some. Then Hugh Blair and Robert Beacom brought a horsepower thresher and did the threshing. Judge Smith had a tread mill at the foot of the Munuscong. When the Meridian was opened Frank Taylor hired the mail carrier, then George Tabor. McKee's kept the halfway house. Imagine in and out with the open stage with things for the store. They carried mail to Cedarville on their backs. Long John White cut the road to Cedarville. He carried a stove from the Soo to his homestead on the Meridian. He also drove a team of mules for the Pat Galliget camp over the sand plains up Pine River where Tom Lawless was foreman and Pat was there.
Duncan Muckmorton and I rode horseback through from Pickford to Newberry 53 years ago. There was no railroad but the one from St. Ignace to Marquette. I saw the fitst train go over it twelve miles up from St. Ignace. Twenty miles from St. Ignace stood the kilns where wood was bumed into charcoal to melt iron ore. Men cutting wood were paid a dollar a cord, twenty a month for labor the year round.
The Mackinac Company had five lumber camps paying thirty dollars a month. They had their own teams, mules, and horses. They had a storehouse about St. Ignace for wild hay and corn.
The Miles brothers came from Saginaw and started to lumber at Kinross. They paid $30 a month. They also built a mill at DeTour. I was there with a team at $2 a day. They cut 100,000 board feet a day. I helped to take out their drive. Also Robert Crawfotd of Stalwart cooked for McKniff's drive when Andrew Wilson of Pickford was foreman.
Will Brown, Charlie Wilson, and Barney Tillen were rafting the logs to the mill across Mud Lake to the Island. When the tug was coming back with the boom sticks they lost them. We had quite a time finding them. The sea was so the water would fly' over us but we poled them so the tug got them. That is pioneer days.
The late Barney Nettleton, who must have been one of Pickford Township's more colorful characters, once "filled" his deer license by staging a hand-to-hand battle with the buck. The battle, lasting for nearly an hour, ended only when the buck was killed by a bullet from another hunter's rifle.
Although Nettleton's Herculean struggle took place away back in November 1907, the details were duly recorded by the Pickford Clarion, thus preserving them for future generations. The Pickford Clarion, long out of business, was a weekly newspaper established in Pickford in 1905 by E. E. Baldwin, who still is in the printing business in Sault Ste. Marie.
Mr. Baldwin himself wrote the story of the battle, and played it prominently on the Clarion's front page. It seems that Mr. Nettleton, who then was township highway commissioner, fared forth to get this buck, and spotted a nice 200-pounder not far from the town limits.
Nettleton fired once, but his shot was wide of the mark. Instead of dashing off into the brush, as almost any well-behaved deer would do, Barney's would-be target took one long look at Nettleton - as if sizing up his prowess, then closed to do battle. Only then did Barney observe that the buck was a freak. One of the deer's forelegs was shorter than the other. He held it close to his body as he hobbled along on three legs.
Nettleton, fascinated by this strange sight, permitted the cripple to advance within a few feet of him before lifting his rifle to fire again. But this time it was no-go; the gun jammed, leaving Nettleton at the mercy of the enraged buck.
The deer's affliction must have affected his temperament. He was 300 pounds of fighting futy - - and at the moment that fury was unleashed against the gun-toting man in front of him! He lowered his head, and charged in!
Barney sidestepped that charge with all the dexterity of a picador. But the buck - - three legs or not - - wheeled suddenly around and charged again. This time Nettleton side-stepped in time to bring his rifle down on the buck's nose. He said later he could almost feel the crunch of bone as his heavy rifle stock came down on the buck's snout.
Nettleton had drawn the first blood, but his adversary was far from whipped. Time after time, he charged into the fray, took a blow br two in passing, only to wheel around, and come in for more. During the course of those charges, he absorbed several more blows on his already tender and bleeding nose. He lost a part of one antler, then about two charges later, lost a part of the other.
By using his rifle as a war-club, Barney was doing all right for himself, but that sort of thing just couldn't go on indefinitely. How long could a buck deer take this kind of punishment before crylng, "Uncle"? Barney Nettleton never did learn the answer to that one. A few charges later, he swung viciously at the buck's head, missed, and brought the rifle down on the deer's backbone. The rifle broke - and fell from his hands!
From that moment on, it was a case of men against deer, with no holds barred. The buck, groggy and apparently tiring, closed in once more, and Barney grabbed the stump of his antlers. This bit of strategy, designed to prevent goring, left little or no defense against flailing forelegs. So Nettleton was kicked in the chest, the buck's sharp hooves leaving a gory, ten-inch opening!
"At one time," reported Mr. Baldwin, "Mr. Nettleton actually was under the buck, and tried to cut the animal's throat with his teeth." Fortunately for Barney, reinforcements arrived in the person of John Hughes, another deer hunter. Hughes shot the battling buck - thus being credited with an "assist" in the play.
Editor Baldwin's thrilling report on the encounter failed to state who got the venison. There's a possibility that Mr. Nettleton, who had tried to eat it "on the hoof" found it too tough and relinquished it to Mr. Hughes. For information on that technical problem, we refer you to Mr. Baldwin.
William and Colbourn Emerson were among early settlers, southwest of Pickford. "Billy" never married and Colbourn was a widower. They came from Belleville, Ontario, and homesteaded two miles south and four and one-half miles west on the south side of the section road. They were across from the Hugh Leach farm. Later they moved two and one-half miles east. Billy became seriously ill. He had no relatives. Mr. and Mrs. Beacom took him into their home and cared for him until his death there.
William Young, a Canadian, settled one mile south and two miles west of Pickford. He purchased 80 acres of bush land from the D. M. and M. Railroad Company on April 15, 1901. (North side of road, across from William Blair farm.) He was a very hard-working man, working in the lumber camps in the winter and clearing his farm in the summer. He had a team of oxen and cleared his entire 80 himself. (Edna and Kenneth Harrison purchased this farm at Mr. Young's death and later sold it to Phyllis and Clarence Beacom.)
William Young never married. He died the summer of 1937 and was buried in Bethel cemetery.
Samuel Nettleton (Sam) was the first mail carrier from Pickford to Cedarville and Hessel. In 1891, a mere lad of 12 years, he rode horseback in the summer, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. His parents worried a great deal because there was only a trail through the woods for him to follow and they feared a tree might blow on him and the settlers were fat apart. The road (Meridian) was not entirely cut out. When he reached the little lake north of Cedarville, he detoured one-half mile east and went around this lake, then on to Cedarville where he left mail and picked up any mail that went to Hessel. He returned north until he reached this little lake, then rode westerly to the Law homestead (now the Hessel airport). On to Hessel, back the same route to Cedarville, Pickford, and home. In the winter months he was able to use a horse and cutter. He traveled the same road to Cedarville as in summer, as there was no road across the little lake and the ice was unsafe. He didn't retrack himself, but left from Patrick's Landing and drove on the ice (through what is now called Club Channel) around to Hessel Bay. Returned by the same route. He carried mail on this trail for two years and received $25 a month.
Robert Eagleson was an early settler in the Blair settlement. He located on a farm one mile south, three miles west, and one-half mile south, just over the Munuscong River on the west side of the road.
Mrs. William (Annie Blair) Wise sent two of her children, Frederick and Nellie, with a baking of bread to his cabin. The children found the house empty, a pot of peas on the stove, but no fire. They thought the fire had been out for some time, so they returned to tell their father. Mr. Wise looked for Bob, but finding no axe he thought he might be in his woods where he was clearing land. When found, he was dead. Mr. Wise got his team and dray and took the body to the Wise farm, (he placed it on a plank and on a wood pile) while he went to tell Mr. and Mrs. Henry Miller. She was a sister of the deceased. Mr. Wise made the casket that Mr. Eagleson was buried in. He made a number of caskets in the first years they lived in that area.
Just a few lines of a little remembrance of the mothers who came to Mackinac and Chippewa counties in the early days. They lived in log cabins, they hunted their cows through the woods among the wild stock, churned their butter, walked and carried it through mud, marshes, and swamps, to the little stores of surrounding communities and traded their butter for groceries as a maintenance for their little families at home. They were the salt of the earth, gone but not forgotten, and only remembered by what they have done.
Oh, the spring that bubbles yonder near the orchard on the hill,
With its old moss-coveted bucket which I once would want to fill.
In the pasture in the valley with my brother at my side
We would always drive old Brindle to the barn at eventide.
Oh, the blessed days of childhood that I spent in childish glee.
And the prayer is always with us that we learned at Mother's knee.
I would ramble with my brother with his hand held close to mine,
Down the path to that old cabin in the shadow of the pine.
Oh, that little old log cabin how it fills our hearts with joy,
At the garden with the roses where we played when but a boy.
We could see the shining raindrops on the fairer jessamine,
We could hear our mother calling, "Boys, come home, it's supper time."
Oh, the shade tree standing yonder in the orchard on the hill,
In the pathway leading homeward to the cabin calm and still.
Now that Mother's voice is silent we can hear the church bells chime
And the echo down the valley, "Boys, come home; it's supper time."
But that homestead is forsaken, and the years from us have flown,
But the cabin yet is standing with mosses overgrown.
When I cross the Jordan River to that blessed land sublime,
Then we'll hear our Mother calling, "Boys, come home, it's supper time."
In that lane beyond the river free from sorrow and all care,
We can see our angel mothers, they are waiting for us there.
When they all look down upon us, through those shining stars above,
It's a jewel sent from heaven, and they call it Mother's love.
-- By Rob Nettleton
Whitewash was the usual interior house paint in the early days. When the first settlers came here it, wasn't too plentiful or easily purchased. Some women made their paint and came up with a very pretty effect. Mrs. George Leach (Ann) was one of these industrious mothers when housecleaning time came along. She used red clay mixed with buttermilk to the desired consistency which gave a pretty pink color and was a change from white. Sometimes her ceilings were painted and the walls papered. Her secret got out one day when two neighbor girls called on her. Her cat came meowing about her feet and she laughing exclaimed, "Ur! I know what you are wanting, to lick my boots and have that drop of paint." She then told the girls what she was using.
Today it is trick or treat, but in the late 1800's it was just trick. Bill Young purchased himself a new range, and when he tried it out the first time or two he was quite pleased with its performance. October 31 came and some young culprits (neighbors, maybe?) were out for some fun. Bill had some pea straw and somehow it appealed to these boys - - they packed Bill's stovepipe full (his shanty had no chimney). The next morning smoke came from everywhere on end around the stove and Bill tried everything to no avail, until he had to go outside or smother. He told the neighbors, "That is some company, put out a stove, but no instructions!"
A storm with high winds was felt in Blairville in the early 1900's. The roof was lifted off Bill Young's shanty and carried some distance away. A neighbor seeing this, hurried over to see if Bill or his dog had met any harm and looking through the door, queried, "Bill, where's your dog?" Bill (who had difficulty hearing a great part of his life), gesturing with his head and hand, replied, "Out through the field blew to pieces."
Mrs. William Wise arrived in Blairville in 1880 and never saw another woman until Mr. and Mrs. Richard Rye came about.
In the pioneer days church and Sunday School in the Blairville area were held in the homes. Annie Miller (later Mrs. Maltas) was the first Sunday School Superintendent. She was very highly thought of and traveled by horseback to start churches and Sunday schools in the various communities.
To travel from the William Wise farm to the William Butledge farm, it was necessary to walk a log that crossed the Munuscong River. Mr. Wise was the first Supervisor of Marquette Township and walked to St. Ignace every spring with the tax roll.
There were no funeral homes nor undertakers in the early days. Margaret Beacom (Mrs. Robert Beacom) prepared many bodies for burial. She performed doctors' duties also. She served as midwife many times and many of those babies are still residing in and near Pickford. Called because of a serious illness, perhaps of a child, she would stay a week or longer, if necessary, until the person was well on the road to recovery. She not only aided in the Blair settlement, but went to homes in the outlying areas, walking long distances or riding with horse and buggy or horse and cutter any hour of the day or night when she was needed. In cases of pneumonia, the patient was kept in an unheated room with the windows open, and she and others caring for the patient wore fur coats to keep warm.