A Bridge over Troubled Waters

I’ve been away a while, and have not had an opportunity to work up any stories from Our Town.  But I came across this compelling photograph in the Clarkson Museum, and I am hoping someone can shed some light on it.

Can you guess the subject of this unlabeled photo?  I am almost certain I know what it is, and I also have a pretty good hunch where it happened.

I’ve enlarged the images of the men in the photo, in case someone can identify them. Notice that the three on the left are wearing identical overalls.

Don’t waste any time sending in your answer!  The first person to identify the photo will win a delicious cheeseburger and gems dinner from the Purple Palace Drive-In!

While you are thinking about the photo, enjoy a couple of hair-raising, related stories from bygone days:

From the June 2, 1921 issue of the Colfax County Press –

While returning to Clarkson from a dance at the B.F. Jaroska farm nine miles north of town, Saturday evening, Emil Pavlis and Paul Havel, young Stanton county farmers, came near losing their lives in a terrible automobile accident. Driving along at a fair rate of speed in a large Nash touring car, the young men endured a race with a party of boys also returning from the dance and as both cars were powerful machines, the drivers experienced no difficulty in increasing the mileage and realizing a terrific velocity. As Messrs. Pavlis and Havel were about to approach the bridge near the Frank Brabec farm, five and a half miles north of Clarkson, they struck the railing of the bridge and landed directly in the creek. The other party with whom the boys were supposed to have been racing after, seeing the car had disappeared, went back, and by raising the over-turned car, rescued Mr. Havel from his perilous situation. Those who witnessed the accident regard it as a miracle that the boys escaped death or much more severe injury and both may consider themselves lucky that they are among the living. The car was badly wrecked and to bring it back into its former state will require an expenditure of several hundred dollars.

From the April 7, 1921 issue of the Colfax County Press –

Last week we no more than finished telling our readers of the automobile accident in Howells when it was reported that a much more costly and horrible accident occurred at the large bridge spanning Maple Creek on the east boundary of Clarkson, on the road more commonly known as the Fremont-Albion highway. It may be said frankly that this adventure as far as known to us, is the only one of its kind happening in this part of the country.
After the close of the day’s work, Edward Zelenda and Jos. Vacin both employed at Prazak Motor Co.’s garage, decided to go to Howells to see the remains of the automobile wreck which occurred there on Tuesday of last week, and while returning in a large Nash touring car, owned by Mr. Zelenda, they were suddenly overtaken on the road by Rudolph Nagengast, son of Albert Nagengast of near Howells, who endeavored to pass their car at the foot of the bridge. In doing so the young man overestimated the distance to the approach and instead of passing the car he squarely struck the bow of the bridge, completely knocking off the structure upon which the bridge was suspended. Traveling at a terrific speed, the car upon colliding with the bridge, turned completely around in a right about direction and was faced to the east. In this act it is understood that the vehicle in making the turn must have also struck the north side of the bow and by breaking off the principle supports, the bridge collapsed.
Luckily, Mr. Zelenda’s car succeeded in getting across before the bridge was destroyed and landed forcibly on an embankment a short distance west of the bridge, both occupants escaping injury. Hearing the terrible noise that followed the crash, both of the boys were stunned with fright but soon revived from the shock and ran to a neighbor’s house from where they called for help.
In the meanwhile the noise of the falling iron and timber was heard all over town and soon scores of cars and multitudes of people were seen hurrying to the bridge to witness the accident.
Upon striking the suspension of the bridge, Nagengast was thrown from his seat and hurled through the air to a distance of several yards, landing in the mire a short ways from the fallen bridge, where he was soon found in an unconscious condition. He was hurriedly taken to Dr. Knight’s office rooms where he was given first aid. An examination later revealed that his injury was not dangerous and upon recommendation of the physician, the injured man was taken to the home of his parents that very same evening.
Nagengast’s auto, a powerful 8-cylinder Willys-Knight touring car, is a total wreck as the result of the accident and beyond repair, while the Nash car suffered only a broken axle and a badly smashed fender and running board, caused by ramming the embankment.
In relating the story of how the collision happened, we are informed that Messrs. Zelenda and Vacin had the right-of-way, knowing nothing of being followed by a speeding automobile until but a short distance before the bridge when the attempt was made to pass them. It is alleged that the Nagengast car traveled at a velocity estimated fully at 50 miles an hour, striking the bridge.
As soon as the main trusses gave away the east portion of the bridge sank rapidly to a depth of about 10 feet, leaving the west side on its moorings in a semi-angle position of 75 degrees. Whether or not the county will make an effort to ascertain who the responsible party was or to attempt to collect the damages perpetrated on the taxpayers by the destruction of the bridge is not decided at this time.

The bridge was erected only a few years ago and upheld heavy traffic of all kinds since its erection without any harm to the structure. It is another ill-fated story added to the rapidly growing list of accidents caused by speed demons of the country whose trail ends no sooner until death imposes its penalty.
The wreckage of the bridge is now being removed and will be replaced by new reinforced concrete bridge at a large cost. Before the completion of the bridge, traffic will be detoured a mile south and it is expected that the new bridge will be turned over to its cause in a course of a few weeks.

A.J. Karel & Family

I call the mystery photos above “The Destruction of Karel and Suchy.”  They depict the August 13, 1967 demolition of a building that had stood on Clarkson’s main street since about 1892.  In its first decade, the wooden building housed a general merchandise store operated by Frank Najmon, a bakery owned by Christian Gross, a drug store owned by Joseph B. Mathauser, and a shoe repair shop owned by Anton Odvarka, Sr.  In 1902, Anton J. (AJ) Karel and Philip Suchy moved to Clarkson from Omaha and purchased the building from Frank Najmon.  Karel and Suchy opened up a general merchandise store that marked the beginning of a family business that would serve Clarkson for many years.

Bill Karel, A.J. Karel (in back), unidentified woman, and Phillip Suchy (1903)

In 1904, AJ Karel bought out Mr. Suchy, and changed the name of the business in the little wooden building to A.J. Karel General Merchandise.  AJ raised his four sons (Richard, Adolph, Clyde, and William) in the retail trade.  By 1912, they had constructed a modern, two-story brick building to the north of the original wooden structure – groceries were sold out of the south (wooden) building and general merchandise in the north (brick) building.  An open archway connected the two stores.

In 1913 the Karels opened up a cream station in the back of the wooden building (you can make out the words Beatrice Creamery on the sign in front of the two upper windows).  The “warehouse” also housed a shoe repair shop (under the management of James Prokupec) and a coffee and peanut roasting machine (under the management of Clyde Karel).  “When the roasting machine would start up everyone in the village knew this from the wonderful aroma spread over the town.  This was especially true of the wonderful jumbo Virginia peanut aroma.  After every roasting the sidewalks were covered with peanut shells and to this day are remembered and wanted by our customers.  Mr. Karel bought his first shipments of peanuts by the ton, and when they arrived at the railroad station the train crew asked who went crazy in this town.” (Clarkson Diamond Jubilee book, 1961)

By 1922 the boys were ready to take on their own business.  Richard and Adolph Karel purchased a store in Pilger, and Clyde and Bill remained at the Clarkson store.  AJ’s daughters Ida, Alice, Mary and Elma all worked in the store, as did their children.  At about this time the business was renamed A.J. Karel and Sons, the name by which it would known for many years (and can still be seen faintly painted on the larger, brick building).  Later, the name would be shortened to Karel’s Store – the way most of us referred to it.

On November 11, 1920 the Colfax County Press helped promote the business with this story:

After five years of patiently waiting, our leading general merchandise firm, A. J. Karel & Sons, succeeded in re-employing the services of Mr. Old Man Dollar, who is again faithfully performing his full duty at their store. This store has tried to bring the prices back to somewhere near the pre-war basis and have succeeded in doing so to a greater extent. It is now up to you to visit their place of business and see for yourself what Old Man Dollar will do for you. Old Man Dollar specials at Karel & Sons store were: Men’s Barn Yard brand shoes, $5.90. Heavy weight blue denim overalls, $2.00. 27 inch wide ginghams, 35c yard. 36 inch percales, 30c yard. Pretty all-wool 70×80 novelty plaid blankets, $15.00. Sugar, fine granulated cane, 100 pounds $12.50. They posted a quarter page ad in The Colfax County Press for winter eating apples: Extra fancy Jonathans, Extra fancy Winesaps, Extra fancy Winter Pearmains and Extra fancy Winter Bananas, $3.25 per box.

  

Karel’s Store was an interesting place, jam-packed with general merchandise – shoes, ready to wear clothing, bolts of fabric, dress patterns, sewing supplies, hankies, dress and work gloves, Key and Osh Kosh overalls, pipes, cigarette papers and tins of Prince Albert tobacco – anything the farmer and villager might need.  The little wood-floored grocery store was similarly cluttered with canned, packaged, and fresh food.  A good indication of the many and varied activities that took place in that building can be found in the Clarkson Centennial Book (1986):

I always thought that one of nicest things about the Clarkson grocery stores was the free home delivery service.  I was visiting my grandmother in town one summer day when a high-school-age delivery boy came to the back door with the order she had previously phoned in.  Coming from a farm, where you had to drive into town for everything except gasoline and mail, it struck me as a marvelous innovation.

Dennis Houfek was one of the delivery boys for Karel’s store.  He shared his memories of that job: “Karel’s Store made deliveries every day except Sunday, when the store was closed, of course. During the three months of summer vacation, I delivered six days a week; Monday through Saturday. During the school months, Vrby delivered Monday through Friday; I delivered on Saturday.  Home delivery was performed without charge. Tips, however, were a different matter.  Never received cash.  But since it was Saturday morning when all the babicky were doing the weekly baking I often scored heavily with kolace, buchty and cinnamon rolls hot from the oven.  I often had to stash the goodies in the glove box of the delivery van, not being able to eat the entire haul immediately.  Even had trouble getting the glove box closed a time or two.  Now if that wasn’t a tip I don’t know what you would call it.  Bohemians having a reputation for frugality, I never expected a cash tip from them.  It’s possible they thought they were giving me something that far exceeded its monetary value.  And they were right.”

At some point they had to start charging 15 cents or a quarter for deliveries to begin to cover their costs.  There was some unhappiness about it; that may have been significant sum for many of the retirees.  But they admitted that the grocery stores had to make a living, too.

On June 7, 1967 Bill Karel, his youngest daughter Betty, and her husband Lumir (Vrby) Vrbicky bought out Clyde Karel’s share of the business. Later that summer they had the old wooden structure demolished and replaced it with a new brick structure.  In 1968 Betty and Vrby bought out Bill’s share, and continued the business for a third generation.

(for the disoriented, the brick building built in 1912 now houses the Brass Rail, and the smaller brick structure immediately to the right was built by Betty and Vrby in 1967 on the site of the original Karel and Suchy store; it is also part of the Brass Rail)

A business that lasted as long as Karel’s Store had many employees.  In 1961 they made a noble attempt to list them all up to that point, 75 in number:

And of course there were many more employees since then.

Addendum:  Avis Studnicka Heithoff began working at Karel’s in 1956.  She shared her fond memories of the business and its people:

“In 1956, I was a sophomore at CHS when Bill Karel, President of the Clarkson School Board asked my father if he would let me come work at his store. Well, as you know teens did not have jobs in those days, so my father more or less considered this an honor. So whether I wanted the job or not, it was assumed that I went to work at Karel’s. I had to kinda be careful with Social Security as I was not 16 yet so Bill was always concerned that he would get caught. In September of the year, I turned 16 and ended up working there every Saturday, every holiday break, every summer anytime I was free. We would start at 8 AM and work until 11 PM on Saturdays as that was the day that the farm women bought their big grocery supplies. We had to write each item in a tablet or itemize each thing they bought so did a lot of writing. Imagine doing an order of several hundreds of dollars back then. I didn’t mind until it came to a customer buying a mouse trap or two. I cannot go there. So I would hand my customer a small sack and tell her to put the traps in the sack and then move on. By 11 PM, my feet were dead or numb or whatever. I would go home and my mother would have a dishpan of hot water waiting for me to soak my feet in. All of my friends and classmates were having fun at a dance in Howells or wherever and I missed all of this for over 2 years. I loved working for the Karel’s………….Bill, Clyde, Vrby, and Joe Makousky were the nicest and most respected men I have known. In some ways they molded my life. I worked with Vera Balzer, Helen Tomasek, and don’t remember any other girls. In 1958, I graduated and Bill was so very supportive of me going to Nurses training as he had a daughter that was an RN and that meant a lot to him. I don’t remember my wages and I wish I did, but it must have been peanuts in those days. I remember I had something like $400 some dollars in my savings acct. to pay for my first semester of nurses training so that tells you that my hourly wage was very minimal after 2 1/2 years. My hourly wage as a graduate RN was $2.00 an hour at the Schuyler Hospital in 1961. So if an RN was only worth 2 dollars, a clerk in a grocery store sure didn’t earn mucho bucks. I loved working for the Karel’s boys and I am sure this experience made me who I have become. I loved them all. I only wish I could tell them now how I feel about them, but as we know it is too late. Life goes on. I would like to add that in those days, one was never idle at the store……it you had nothing to do you made bows for gifts, you cut yeast into 6 squares and wrapped it in paper, you got a box of cookies out of the warehouse and bagged them a pound at a time, same with many of the grocery items. Groceries did not come prepackaged like they do today……we girls did all of that. And we thought nothing of it. I may add that my daughter bought me a Karel’s bowl after the store was no longer as she felt I should have a something special after Bill and Clyde as a memory. I treasure the bowl. God bless these dear people in my young life.”

We have a couple of winners from last week’s quiz – Jeff Beiermann correctly identified the building that was being demolished, and Tony Dusatko seconded his opinion.  Good job, gents!

Bohemian Urban Renewal

It’s time for another fun quiz.  These two pictures were taken on August 13, 1967.  Who can tell me what is happening here?  The more you tell me about the building, how it was used over the years, etc. then the more points you will get toward free 3-day admission to the 2015 Clarkson Czech Days festival.

Pick up your pencils….  Get ready…..  BEGIN!

Clarkson and the Great War: Part 3 – The Home Front

While young men from the Clarkson area were going overseas, our local citizens busied themselves with activities intended to support the war effort and/or our local boys in uniform.  Here are some items from the Colfax County Press:

Christmas packages for Uncle Sam’s soldiers in France must be mailed by November 15 to insure delivery to the boys. This bulletin was received by postmaster G.A. Koza. (CC Press, October 17, 1917)

The World-Herald of Omaha requested Emil Folda to open a fund here for tobacco to be sent to the soldiers in France. $8.00 was collected. Those contributing were: Moore and Hobza $1.00, Frank Kubik 0.75, Fred Cosch .50, Jos. Gloser .50, John F. Pimper .60, A.J. Karel .60, Mary Bartak .40, Emil Folda $1.00, Jos. Mundil, Albin Folda, Adolph Filipi, R. Prokop and Stanley Kubik $2.65. (CC Press, October 25, 1917)

At meetings held by Howells and Clarkson businessmen, it was decided to close all business houses hereafter at 6:00 p.m. commencing January 1, 1918.  This is advocated by the State Council of Defense, and is done for the reason to save fuel and light during the period of war.  All places will close with the exception of restaurants, barber shops, drug store and soft drink emporiums.  In the summer time when heat and light will not be needed, it is quite likely that this rule will be changed. (CC Press, December 17, 1917)

A Red Cross program and dance will be held at the Clarkson Opera House on April 27, 1918. Miss Sarka Hrbkova of Lincoln will deliver an address in Bohemian entitled “Woman’s Part in the War.” “Under the Stars and Stripes,” under the direction of Miss Zdenka Sinkula, will be presented by the school pupils. (CC Press, April 18, 1918)

But the activities that undoubtedly raised the most dust were the drilling and maneuvering of Clarkson’s Home Guard.

 Clarkson’s Home Guard marching in the Labor Day Parade in Schuyler, Nebraska  September 2, 1918

When the United States entered the Great War its standing army was not large enough to meet the challenge.  So all the states’ National Guard units were mobilized and federalized, and provided much of the manpower for the American Expeditionary Forces.  That left the states without organized forces for home defense, internal security, or disaster relief (Tulenko et al. 1981).  In the years leading up to the war, labor strikes in big cities had resulted in violent confrontations with police and national guardsmen.  There were real fears of German sabotage of factories and shipyards.  James Gerard, American Ambassador to Germany from 1913 to 1917, said in a speech “We must disappoint the Germans who have always believed that the German-Americans here would risk their property, their children’s future, and their own neck, and take up arms for the Kaiser. The Foreign Minister of Germany once said to me “your country does not dare do anything against Germany, because we have in your country 500,000 German reservists who will rise in arms against your government if you dare to make a move against Germany.” Well, I told him that that might be so, but that we had 500,001 lamp posts in this country, and that that was where the reservists would be hanging the day after they tried to rise.”

Although sabotage of shipyards was not a large issue in Nebraska, a very large proportion of our population was comprised of recent German immigrants.  In 1910, there were about 200,000 residents of German extraction in the state, the most populous ethnic group.  They were informed by 40 daily and weekly German language newspapers, many supporting the Central Powers (McKee 2010).   Most of these new citizens favored neutrality; at worst they supported their Fatherland in the war, and at best they were reluctant to speak out against their homeland, culture, and families back in Europe.  Anti-German feeling ran high across the nation; McKee (2010) lists some of the actions that were taken in Nebraska after the U.S. entered the war:

“In Nebraska, German ministers were suddenly forced to deliver sermons in English even though some congregations had no one who could understand them. Lincoln’s mayor ordered the visiting Minneapolis Symphony to play nothing by German composers, while Governor Neville organized a State Council of Defense, which saw every German as a potential threat and encouraged vigilantism.

As Nebraska moved solidly behind the war effort, yellow paint was splashed on the houses of some Germans and those who were considered war effort slackers. Eight NU professors were charged with a “lack of aggressive loyalty,” and two were asked to resign.

The Mockett Law, which required the teaching of German when requested by parents, was repealed, and suddenly it was illegal to teach German, German textbooks were burned in public bonfires and it became illegal to speak German with shopkeepers.

As anti-German sentiment peaked, German newspapers merged and withered while advertisers fled and German names were hastily Americanized. Lincoln’s German-American Bank became Continental National Bank, Schmidts became Smiths, Gov. Charles Dietrich’s German National Bank of Hastings became the Nebraska National Bank, while the town of Berlin became Otoe and Germantown in Seward County was renamed Garland for Ray Garland, who was killed in France in 1918.”

These fears of German sabotage and uprisings proved to be unfounded, but the states’ home defense forces (Home Guards) put citizens’ minds at ease and served other useful functions.

Tulenko et al. (1981) summarized the history of the Home Guards in the various states.  Many states had no Home Guards at all, or very small organizations of fewer than 1,000 men.  A handful of states had Home Guard forces in the neighborhood of 10,000 enlisted men and officers, for example, California, Illinois, Kansas, Massachusetts, Minnesota, and Michigan.  But the state that really embraced the Home Guard concept was our own Nebraska.  By the end of the war, 60,000 Nebraskans had enlisted in the Home Guards and were organized into 390 companies.  These were by far the largest numbers in any of the 48 states. The level of training and organization varied considerably; some were well-armed and equipped, others not at all.  For example, some rifle and shotgun clubs quickly transformed themselves into Home Guards.  In 1917, Johnson County, Nebraska had 400 men of various ages organized into 5 companies.  Although they exhibited patriotic zeal, they were “ill-equipped, poorly trained, and inclined to act independently of one another.”

Clarkson took the Home Guard idea seriously.  As the following entry from the Diamond Jubilee book and museum pictures indicate, our Home Guard volunteers will well-trained and outfitted.  By War’s end, our village had 85 men in uniform.

Clarkson’s Home Guard started out modestly, without uniforms or standardized weapons.  In fact, from the picture below it looks like they were training with wooden dummy rifles.

It didn’t take long for them to get up to speed.  In the single year of their existence, the home guard acquired spiffy uniforms and Springfield rifles.

They drilled, trained, and encamped…

And found the time to pose for group photos in front of the Opera House.

It appears that they even had a youth auxilliary unit.

The Clarkson Diamond Jubilee book describes the reaction of our town to the announcement of an armistice on the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month of 1918:  “When the message of the wonderful allied victory came to Clarkson in the wee hours of Monday morning, November 11, 1918 the news was heralded by the chimes of bells and the shrill steam whistles from the Clarkson electric plant.  The citizens were awakened from their sound sleep and before daybreak Clarkson resembled a real metropolitan city and became delirious with joy.  Many people promenaded in the streets, singing and cheering from 5 AM to 10 PM.  Nothing like this had been witness for years.  A community program was held on the main street which was witnessed by people from near and far.  Business was suspended for the afternoon and schools were dismissed.”

Clarkson’s Nebraska Home Guard unit disbanded soon after the Armistice, on December 26, 1918, and the men were honorably discharged from the Nebraska Home Guard soon after.  During its brief existence, the Home Guard eased people’s minds and stood ready to respond to natural disasters, much as the regular National Guard has done.  Its members helped the local citizenry during the Spanish Flu pandemic – no small task, and a dangerous one for young men because mortality rates were highest among adult between the ages of 20 and 50.  (The global epidemic reached Clarkson during the month of October 1918, and many deaths occurred.  All public gathering places were ordered closed for 12 days, and those who had the flu were ordered quarantined by the board of health.  Parties failing to report any new flu case to the board of health were subject to a fine of from $15 to $100.  The quarantine continued until November 11, 1918.)

In time, the soldiers and sailors serving abroad returned home, most in the first half of 1919.  They were met with joyous festivities.  They came back to a village that had grown, and grown prosperous owing to the booming agricultural economy of the war years.  While they were gone, the citizens of Clarkson had voted in favor of bonds for the construction of a new coal-fired electric power plant and an extension of the water works.  Construction of the new Farmers Union Co-Op elevator commenced. The Great War was over, and the nation was stepping into the Roaring Twenties.

But a handful of them didn’t come back; they died overseas and never saw their homes and families again.  I’ll tell their stories next time.

References

Clarkson Diamond Jubilee book – 1886-1961.

McKee, J. 2010.  Nebraska and Lincoln Germans During WWI.  Lincoln Journal Star, June 27, 2010.  http://journalstar.com/news/local/govt-and-politics/jim-mckee-nebraska-and-lincoln-germans-during-wwi/article_5a674bee-80bb-11df-9069-001cc4c03286.html

Tulenko, T., B. Chase, T.N. Dupuy, and G.P. Hayes.  1981.  U.S. Home Defense Forces Study. Prepared for the Office of the Assistant Secretary of Defense.  Contract Number MDA903-80-C-0594. March 1981. 136 pages.

Centennial! A Pictorial Essay

I’m sick of winter, ice and snow, and sub-freezing temperatures.  Let’s talk about something warm.  Clarkson’s summer festivals are reliably warm, and our 1986 Centennial Celebration was Red Hot, in terms of both the heat index and excitement!  In June 1986 the average high temperature in Omaha, NE was 84.6°F, which was 0.9°F warmer than the long-term average. The hottest day in June 1986 was Thursday, June 26, the day before the Celebration started, when the temperature reached 93.9°F.

Having trouble remembering 1986?  Courtesy of The People History  ( http://www.thepeoplehistory.com/1986.html ) here are some interesting statistics:

How Much things cost in 1986 Yearly Inflation Rate USA   1.91% Year End Close Dow Jones Industrial Average 1895 Interest Rates Year End Federal Reserve 7.50% Average Cost of New House $89,430 Median Price of Existing Home $80,300 Average Income per year $22,400.00 Average Monthly Rent $385.00 Average Price for new car $9,255.00 1 gallon of gas 89 cents

A Few More Examples Casio Portable Color Television $249.99 Tandy 600 Portable Computer $1599.00 Jar Of Skippy Peanut butter $1.49 Potatoes 5 Lbs $1.00 Broccoli Lb 39 Cents Bacon per pound $1.75 Plymouth Colt $4,999 Ford Mustang $7,452

 Popular Films

• Top Gun
• Crocodile Dundee
• Platoon
• The Karate Kid, Part II
• Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home
• Aliens
• Ruthless People
• The Color of Money
• The Money Pit

Popular Musicians

• Billy Joel
• Robert Palmer
• Lionel Richie
• Van Halen
• The Police
• Debbie Harry
• Simply Red
• Whitney Houston with ” the greatest love of all “
• The Pretenders
• Genesis
• The Bangles with ” Walk Like an Egyptian “
• Chris de Burgh
• Madonna with ” Papa Don’t Preach “
• Prince
• Culture Club
• Bruce Springsteen
• Pet Shop Boys

Popular TV Programs

• Magnum, P.I.
• Dynasty
• Falcon Crest
• Hill Street Blues
• Cagney and Lacey
• Cheers
• Fame
• Family Ties
• Remington Steele
• The A-Team
• Highway to Heaven
• Murder, She Wrote
• The Cosby Show
• Growing Pains
• Neighbors

All those films, songs, and TV shows were all right, I suppose, but for REAL entertainment you don’t ever have to go any farther than Clarkson on the last weekend of June.  So put on your tank top and cutoffs, and join me on a trip down Memory Lane:

For the Centennial Celebration in 1986, Main Street (Pine Street, actually) filled up with carnivals, portable bleachers, and a covered stage:

There was an authentic Czechoslovakian trail ride:

 A wide variety of musical entertainment (if you like polkas)…

 
 And of course, The Big Parade

   Who was playing in the Frankie Charipar Trio that day?

If I’m reading the sign correctly on the wagon below, it says “The Jolly Blum’er”   Anybody know who they are?

 The Clarkson High School Red Devils Marching Band took the field with great pride and verve…

 And they were followed by the Leigh High School Band, who didn’t feel like marching that day, I guess.

Many of the neighboring towns and villages entered the parade to help us celebrate our first 100 years.  Here is the float from Richland:

The Stop Inn Cafe had a float that touted their Home Cooking…

There were long lines outside the Opera House to get some delicious Czech meals, to see Czech crafts, and to watch the mysterious process by which kolaches are made…

   

And finally, what Czech Celebration would be complete without a beer garden?  In 1986 a huge covered beer garden was set up in the school playground for a family/class reunion.

   Were you there?  Looking for that certain face in the crowd?  I’ve cut the picture above into 3 pieces and blown them up to help you find yourself…

  

I feel warmer already, don’t you?  Thanks again to Sharon and Larry Steinberger for sharing the color photos taken by her father, Morris Odvarka.  See you in Clarkson for Czech Days 2015, June 26-28!  http://www.clarksonczechdays.com/

Clarkson and the Great War: Part 4 – Freedom Fighter

Not everyone from Clarkson who fought in World War I was under the command of Gen. John J. Pershing and the American Expeditionary Forces.  At least one of our local boys, Jaroslav Holas, went overseas to fight the Central Powers as a member of what was essentially the French Foreign Legion.

A brief item in the May 23, 1918 edition of the Colfax County Press caught my eye:  “V.A. Chleboun, Andrew Necas and Lada Hanel were in Omaha, where the former two escorted Jaroslav Holas to the metropolis, who enlisted in the Boh-Slovanic army and the latter attended to business matters.”

What was the “Boh-Slovanic army,” you ask?  After a lot of digging, I’ve decided that it was the name given by the Colfax County Press to units of Czech volunteers who were fighting in the French military.  Formally, it was two rifle regiments (the 21^st and 22^nd Czechoslovak Rifle Regiments) that were formed in the last year of the war and fought under Czech officers as part of the French army.  Something like the famous Lafayette Escadrille, a fighter squadron of the French Air Service that was comprised of Americans volunteers who went over there to fly before the U.S. entered WWI.

[The sharp-looking, red- and blue-clad soldier on the above left (aka The Target) is how the first members of the Foreign Legion were outfitted in 1914.  The blue-clad figure on the right is dressed in the uniform of a private in the 21st Czech Rifle Regiment in France, 1918.  Roušar (2006)]

Perhaps a little background for the thoroughly confused is in order.  In 1914, Bohemia, Moravia, and Slovakia (i.e., the Czechoslovaks) entered WWI as part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire that, along with Germany, was fighting France, England, Russia, and eventually Italy and the United States.  For the most part, the Czechoslovaks hated the Austro-Hungarian Empire and wanted independence, so they were reluctantly conscripted into the army.  Most of the Czechs were sent to fight in Russia and the Italian Alps.  If they were captured, many were happy to switch sides and fight against Austria-Hungary and Germany, but they had no home army to join.  So the ex-POWs got themselves transported around the globe and ended up in France, as mainly Czech units in the French Army.  Initially, they fought alongside Moroccans and other colonial members of the French Foreign Legion.  They were joined by Czech and Slovak volunteers from the U.S. and elsewhere who were also interested in achieving independence for their homeland.  Eventually, a total of 2,309 American Czechs and Slovaks fought as a part of the Czechoslovak Legion in France (Dziak 2012).

Jaroslav Holas was a carpenter who was born in Bohemia and immigrated to the United States.  During the time that he lived in Clarkson he worked for V.A. Chleboun, who was in the building construction business.  Holas registered for the draft in Lincoln Precinct (the area around Howells) and got a low draft number (176 out of 1038 registered in Colfax County).  So he was almost certainly called up.  He wanted to fight, but he didn’t enlist in the U.S. Army.  Why? My guess is that he didn’t pass his physical.  So he volunteered for fight in the French Army, an organization that had been bled white by their losses over the previous 3 ½ years and which probably had less exacting standards for infantrymen.

 

Holas left Omaha in May of 1918 and likely arrived in France by June, in time to join the 22^nd Czechoslovak Rifle Regiment and get sent into action at Vouziers/Chestres (Northeastern France) in the waning days of the Great War.

A monument at a place called Chestres in Vouziers honors the 21^st and 22^nd regiments of the Czechoslovakian Regiments fallen in battle in October 1918. Donated by Czechoslovakia, it represents a Czechoslovakian soldier holding a grenade and proclaims “Passers-by, it was here and hereabouts that the 21^st and 22^nd regiments of Czechoslovakian volunteers made the ultimate sacrifice for the freedom of Czechoslovakia and for the glory and grandeur of beloved France. We honor the Heroes who died here … Pravda-Vitezi 1914-1918.”

Out of the total 9,600 Czech Legionnaires fighting in France, 630 were killed.  Jaroslav (Jerry) Holas was one of the survivors.  After peace was declared he traveled to Bohemia, got married, and brought his wife back to Clarkson.  Here are a few more news items from the Colfax County Press:

Anton Hlavaty arrived here to pay a visit to his friend and comrade in the late war, Jerry Holas. The two served in the same company overseas, both being volunteers in the CzechoSlovak army. (CC Press, June 17, 1920)

F. A. Dvorak and Jaroslav Holas of Howells were in Clarkson, making arrangements to furnish the Clarkson Hotel and Cafe with ice this summer. We are informed that we may have an ice famine here this summer, since the crystal is getting short at this early stage. (CC Press June 24, 1920)

Mr. and Mrs. Jaroslav Holas, who have made their home here the past several years, are making arrangements to return to their native home, Czechoslovakia, where they expect to stay for good. Mr. Holas is a carpenter by trade and with the exception of the past few months, was employed by V.A. Chleboun. During the last three months he was employed at Omaha while his wife and child remained in Clarkson.
This will be Mr. Holas’ fourth trip across the Atlantic. He crossed the ocean when an immigrant to this country and crossed it twice during the world war with the American division of the 22nd Czechoslovak regiment, having seen active service on the western battlefront. After peace was declared he returned to Bohemia where he was married and in a few weeks came back to America. Mr. Holas also lived at Howells for a short time having worked for F.A. Dvorak. [F.A. Dvorak was a big time farmer and breeder of Poland China hogs north of Howells]
Mr. and Mrs. Holas will dispose of their household goods at an auction sale on July 26th, details of which will be made public later on. (CC Press June 19, 1924).

After this last item, Jaroslav Holas disappeared from the radar.  It appears that he returned with his family to Czechoslovakia, the new country that he helped create.  It would be nice to know if he prospered there, and what happened to our Freedom Fighter after the Czechs lost their independence again in 1938.

 

Okay, it’s trivia.  I admit that I got hung up on a pretty obscure element of Clarkson’s part in World War I.  But the next time someone asks you in a Trivial Pursuit game if anyone from Our Town was a member of the French Foreign Legion, the correct answer is… “Oui, Oui!”

References

Dziak, Robert 2012.  The Czechoslovak Legions in World War 1.  Master of Military Studies Thesis, U.S. Marine Corps University, Quantico, VA.

Roušar, Jaroslav 2006.  The Czech Republic and Its Professional Armed Forces.  Military Information and Service Agency, Ministry of Defence of the Czech Republic.  Prague.  160 pages.

More Storm Stories

Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.                                           – Charles Dudley Warner

Before I quit talking about hard winters, I wanted to post a few interesting stories that have recently landed on my desk.   The first comes from Marvine Koliha of Howells, who wrote about her family’s experiences during the 1949 blizzards:

“I remember that winter.  School was postponed so many times.  I think we were given a grace period so we didn’t have to make up all the days missed from the blizzards.  Mom had so many baskets  of eggs in the basement, and nowhere to go with them. I know the paths scooped to the different buildings to get feed to the livestock. With a full cellar and a deep freezer full of food, we made out. But the basics like flour, coffee, &  sugar were needed.  So my dad took a gunny sack and walked the mile over snowbanks to highway #15, flagged down a motorist & got a ride to Pilger for supplies.  He was able to get another ride back & walked over snowbanks, although it was tougher now with a heavy gunny sack. We didn’t have school on Wed. of last week, due to the extreme cold.  I had to laugh because I walked 1/2 mile to school when it was 20 below zero.  Kids were a lot tougher in the old days.”

Dialing back to 1936, I found some clippings from the Colfax County Press’s Peeking into the Past column that tell about the hardships of that winter:

 

Once February was over, the weather improved quickly and the farmers started thinking about planting their fields in anticipation of abundant crops in 1936.  Here are some clippings from the March 11, 1936 issue of the Colfax County Press.

 

In March 1936 everyone was looking forward to warm weather and the fields drying out so that crops could be planted.  As the old saying goes, you should be careful what you ask for.

Another Winter of Our Discontent – 1936

Oh sure, the winter of 1948-49 was a bad one.  But was it the worst?  There have been plenty of other cold, snowy winters in Nebraska.  I personally experienced a number of them in the 1950s and 1960s.  For example, the winter of 1959-60:

The March 1, 1965 snowstorm that was timed perfectly (in my view, anyway) to strand lots of farm kids in town for a night:

The 1919 Blizzard that blocked the railroad tracks east of town:

And at least on one occasion in 1932 there was a photo-worthy snowfall in our village.

 

But I think the winter of 1936 has a shot at our No. 1 Worst Winter, because of a little something called the 1936 North American Cold Wave – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1936_North_American_cold_wave

“The 1936 North American cold wave ranks among the most intense cold waves of the 1930s. The states of the Midwest United States were hit the hardest. February 1936 was one of the coldest months recorded in the Midwest. The states of North Dakota, South Dakota, and Minnesota saw their coldest month on record.

Most places across the Midwest saw a colder than average January. The plains states started to get a taste of what it would be like until March. The state of North Dakota saw an average temperature of −7.0 °F (−21.7 °C). Most states in the Midwest were very cold in January 1936. The severe winds made wind chills in some locations go down to −85 °F (−65 °C).  Heavy snow and cold created dangerous conditions outside. Many people suffered from frostbite and hypothermia.

February was by far the coldest month in the severe cold wave. The states of South Dakota, Minnesota, and North Dakota saw their coldest month on record, and average temperatures were below 0 °F (−18 °C). More heavy snow and severe wind chills created very dangerous conditions. Wind chills in some locations were near −100 °F (−73 °C). This intense cold compelled some people to wear seven layers of clothing before going outdoors. And two states in this February saw their coldest temperatures on record, −58 °F (−50 °C) in McIntosh, South Dakota, and −60 °F (−51 °C) in Parshall, North Dakota. These two states also recorded all-time high temperatures in July, less than five months later.”

Figure Caption: The average February 1936 temperature in each state, in degrees Fahrenheit. The record coldest temperatures are based on a 112-year period of records, 1895–2006.

In Nebraska, the average temperature for the month of February, 1936 was 7.5 degrees, and the average temperature from December 1935 through February 1936 as only 17.1 degrees.  That winter, Lincoln, Nebraska recorded -20^o on February 5, and 33 days with temperatures below zero.  Omaha recorded 29 consecutive days in which the minimum temperature was below zero (January 22 – February 19, 1936).

The statistics are impressive.  And for an idea of how this miserable weather affected our citizens, I call on no less an authority than… my Mom.

My mother, Blanche Poledna Cada, was a 19-year-old, first-year country school teacher in 1936.  She taught at rural, one-room schools in Cuming County, Nebraska for 3 years, during which time she kept a little diary.  During the week she boarded with one of the families living near the school, and walked to school every day, arriving early to open the building, fire up the coal stove, and pump water for the pupils.  Many of the entries in her diary during the winter months of 1936 reflect the harsh conditions that people living in rural Nebraska experienced….

January 15 – Cloudy and snowing.  Wedding day of Clara Marik and Ernest Kucera.  Terrible snowstorm but go to the ballroom anyway… not very crowded because of snow.

January 16 – Is it cold – clear and plenty of snow.  Porch of school blocked.  Gets cloudy toward evening.

 

January 17 – A terrible blizzard all day…  wind from the northeast.  Gus and Lumir Bazata come for kids and get stuck on school ground.  Boy, Gustie’s language.  All boys push them.  Get my stockings, petticoat, and skirt all wet in coming home in storm.

February 3 – A terrible blizzard and keeps getting worse every minute.  Take two pair of stockings to school.  Four pupils are absent.  All go home with wagons.  Freeze my cheek going home and mother calls up – is worried.

February 4 – Clear, cold and drifting.  Wore overalls to school today.  Had 3 absent.  Couldn’t make snow banks – had to scoop in front of horses.  Mailman didn’t go for 2 days already.  Sure lonesome for mail.

February 5 – Clear and gets cloudy after school.  Roads still blocked.  Had 2 absent.  Mailman doesn’t go for 3 days already.  Joe Bazata scoops snow paths to school toilets.  Cheek still frozen.

February 7 – Cloudy and cold, terrible wind in the afternoon, sure starts drifting. Mr. Uher and Mrs. Glodowski stuck.  Mailman goes around for the first time today.  Freeze my cheek something awful again.

February 8 – Sure windy and drifting cold.  We live in the dining room.  I go without breakfast.  Frank goes and borrows coal from school – don’t have anything to burn.

February 11 – Partly cloudy and then turns cold and snows.  Tonight is the postponed wedding dance of Gall and Brester.  No wedding dance again.  Goodbye to dances, I think.  J. Bazata scoops snow by school again.  Roads terrible – no mail since February 7.

 

February 12 – Snows and is cold and windy.  Sure hard walking to school.  Froze my cheek on the other side this morning. No mail.

February 13 – Cloudy and then turns cold and a strong wind comes up.  Sure drifts.  Makes me sick.  School stove smokes in the morning, like a smokehouse.  A strong wind turns up and sure drifts.  Frank comes for me with wagon.

Febuary 14 – Clear and how cold.  Freeze my face on both sides.   Coldest day in school house yet – feet cold all day.  Only 6 pupils in school so didn’t even distribute valentines.  Get all the papers and read them – all you read is about blizzards.

February 15 – Cloudy and snowing all day.

February 16 – Mother calls me at 1.  She says they have no coal to burn – live in kitchen.

February 17 – Cloudy and snowing.  Clears, and a strong wind comes up and drifts.  Sure cold.  Have only 4 pupils in school.  Joe Bazata scoops snow out of coal shed – do not have much coal.  Howells schools are closed on account of coal.  Mary Pekny is not teaching for 2 weeks already.

February 18 – Cloudy and then clears and turns to a perfect day.  Have 6 pupils in school.  Last recess we watch all the men clear the roads with discs and snow plows.  No wedding because grooms couldn’t get licenses – postponed after Easter.

February 19 – Men are cleaning roads again. Ed Balak brings coal to school.  No mail for 5 days.

February 20 – Clear and warmer.  No mail yet.  Highways still blocked.

February 23 – So warm and thaws.  Oh, the roads (tunnels).  Get all our mail today.

February 25 – Cloudy all day and colder.  It rains, sleets, and snows.

February 26 – Clear and warm, perfect day – too nice.  Finally I get to go home.  Roads tough, get home after 7.  Have to go by Howells road.

February 29 – Partly cloudy and colder.   Sure am surprised at snow banks on our yard.

Not much of a way to spend a quiet winter day, is it?

So which was worse – 1936 or 1949?  I guess it’s a matter of naming your poison.  Would you prefer a virtually unbroken winter, with two months of frequent, almost daily, small snowfalls, record low temperatures, and strong, icy cold winds (1936)?  Or would you rather get socked two or three times with huge, paralyzing blizzards, with periods of relative quiet in between (1948-49)?  Don’t ask me – I live in the Tennessee River Valley; we are still waiting for our first snowfall this winter.

Incidentally, this terrible winter was followed a few months later by the 1936 North American heat wave, the most severe heat wave in the modern history of North America.  Record high temperatures were set in Nebraska, and accompanied by a severe drought, the effects were catastrophic.  But that’s a story for another time.

Thanks again to Sharon and Larry Steinberger, who shared the 1936 snow clearing photos from the collection of her father, Morris Odvarka.

The Winter of Our Discontent – 1948-49

Is it cold enough for you, Bunky?  It is for one of our frequent contributors, Robert Prazak.  Already back in November he started feeling the winter chill coming on, and was reminded of an exceptionally tough winter in Clarkson during his childhood.  I’ve been holding his story back, waiting for some snow and cold weather, and decided that today would be as good a day as any to post it.  On this day 66 years ago, January 2, 1949, a 3-day blizzard slammed into Our Town to cap one of the worst winters in Nebraska’s history.

Robert wrote:  “Having just finished up with my late chores preparing for winter here in Bella Vista, Arkansas, I have plenty of time to reflect on winters past. My chores now aren’t nearly as many as in the old days. Nowadays the biggest job is getting the firewood ready for the fireplace, which is actually a rather large task, but with an overabundance of downed oak and pine it is not too hard to gather enough wood for five months of burning. I must brag first about our retirement city– as it has just been named by Money magazine and some other publications as the best place to retire in the United States. Our Nebraska Club is the largest group here with over 300 members, and the Jim Severas formerly of Clarkson and we have taken our turns in leading the group. Enough bragging, now it’s time to get the fireplace going as the cold weather has just hit and sit with my favorite wiener dogs and watch the fire and dream about the Blizzards of 49 and The Winter That Wouldn’t Quit.

“For our family, preparing for a bad winter didn’t start when the cold weather hit; it began in late summer as mom would can many things, ranging from tomatoes, peaches, corn, and apples to pork. All this would be taken to the storm cellar along with bushels of potatoes that dad would dig up and we kids would help pick. The storm cellar was a scary place for a 10 year old as it always had lots of spider webs, toads, and once in a while a snake. This also served as a great place to take shelter when the clouds got too black in the west and a tornado was possible. Dad always made sure we had plenty of coal in the coal room for burning in the furnace. The lumber and coal company would come with a truck and would shovel the coal down a chute through the basement window into the coal room. We had a chicken coop with laying hens and a barn with a milk cow. So no matter how bad the winter was going to be we were going to survive quite easily.  (It’s worth noting that, although you might get the impression that the Prazaks lived on a farm, they actually had a house on the north end of Main Street in Clarkson)
“If the lights went out we had plenty of oil lamps and flashlights; Our furnace required some work as I remember dad going down to shove coal maybe 3 or 4 times a day, and then the clinkers as they were called (residue from the burned coal that formed and looked like a small meteor) had to be taken out and put in a metal can and hauled outside. Around that time dad purchased a device called a stoker that was a time saver as once a day it needed to be filled and an auger would slowly push the coal into the furnace. If the electricity went off you were back to stage one, but gravity would push the heat up the stairs.
“If I remember correctly the winter of 1949 which is and was the worst in any of our lifetimes, was more than one blizzard and actually started in November with the worst one being in January and then followed by smaller snowstorms. For the farmers with livestock and many other adults this was an incredibly hard time dealing with loss of livestock and suffering. For a ten year old kid it was viewed quite differently as it meant snowball fights, building forts and snowmen, sleigh riding, and best of all NO SCHOOL. I wouldn’t want my grandkids to read this, but for me play was more important than studying. School work was put in its proper position when I went on to get a bachelors and masters degree. Thanks goodness they aren’t like that.

“THE BLIZZARD IS COMING – Weather forecasting back then was not an exact science, as there were no weather satellites, Doppler weather, even TV weather maps. The weather was on the radio and all you knew was what was happening up north or out west and they made an educated guess. As good an indicator as any was the drop in the barometer, as that seemed to get us kids in a wild and noisy mood and the teachers had to impart more penalties on us to keep us in line. The wind blowing out of the east also was a storm indicator. Our family always listened to the weather on the radio, and if a storm was moving in from western Nebraska that meant there would be snow in Clarkson the next morning with the possibility of no school. That night I would crawl under the feather tic full of anticipation for the announcement on the radio.

“KFAB, WOW, and WJAG were our choices for school closings and weather news. I would be the first one up and looking out the window for snow and wind. I don’t know how this happened, but I had a radio and would turn it on listening to weather closings in anticipation of a day of play. Closings would usually start out west (Grand Island) and work their way east; if and when Clarkson (no school) was mentioned you could probably hear me say an exuberant “YES”.
“This was great for the first few storms, but then the storms got worse and it was too bad to go to the neighbors and guess what; it became boring staying at home for days at a time and I started wishing for school to be back in session. When we were snowbound and the wind was howling our chimney would make a moaning sound that would scare any of my friends (if they could get over). Sometimes this moaning sound would last all night and you knew that by morning there were going to be some enormous drifts. Another indicator of a bad storm was if you could hear snowplows and the roar of maintainers trying to clear the road, as the road past our house was old 91 highway and that was one of the first to be opened. The storms became so bad that the National Guard was enlisted to fly and drop bales of hay to stranded cattle in order to survive. This happened mainly out west in the Sandhills.
“When we could get out between storms there was great fun to be had for kids. Snowball fights, snowmen, forts, and best of all sleigh riding. Our city fathers blocked off a couple streets starting at the now Bed and Breakfast all the way down to Moores Department Store on main street. This seemed awesome as the hill at that time seemed so steep (I looked at it last summer and it must have shrunk); also the hill by the old high school was used to slide down, and if you moved over to the corner of the hill there was a double jump where you could get airborne. And yes, as you said, Avis, there was always the fire escape to slide down for extra thrills. We usually had races down the hill and the ones who knew enough to wax their runners had an advantage over the rest.

“The snow removal from the streets was put on the vacant area next to the train depot and the snow started getting so high that the Colfax County Press sponsored a contest as to when an object under the mountain of snow would again appear in the spring. The mountain of snow just kept getting higher and higher and it was June before the object again appeared.

Photo:  Vince Prazak and Ted Urbanek standing near a snow drift on old Highway 91.  Only the very top of the telephone pole is visible.  (Photo courtesy of Robert Prazak)

“Some of my other favorite winter activities involved my Catholic friends. Clarkson and Heun both had what was called Pout; this was a dinner put on to help the church fund, but for us it was one of the greatest meals one could possibly ask for: duck or goose, dumplings and sauerkraut (knedliky and zeli) and kolache and rolls. All this served with the help of pretty, young Czech girls waiting on you hand and foot (even at age 10, I could spot a pretty girl).  Another Catholic activity that stood out in my memory involved Father Kubesh. Father had a rather interesting hobby of making sound recordings. One night, during probably the worst blizzard of that year, he left the microphone of his tape recorder outside and recorded the sounds of that blizzard. Some of my Catholic buddies and I got to listen to it. At the first you could hear the occasional swoosh of snow and wind; a little later the sounds became more frequent and finally there was a constant wailing of the wind as the snow drifted higher and higher. If you closed your eyes you could just visualize the immensity of the storm. In fact, that is what I think I will do now; put another log on the fire, get to the recliner with a dog on each side of me and close my eyes, dream of blizzards past and probably wake up an hour later.”

Photo:  Train with rotary cutting head passing through town, headed west.  (Photo courtesy of Robert Prazak)

As Robert noted, winter started early that year.  The first half of November 1948 was warm, with high temperatures reaching the 70s on some days.  On November 18-19 it all changed; a storm that started out with thunder, lightning, rain and sleet turned to blowing, drifting snow in a band from southwestern to northeastern Nebraska.   Roads closed and people were trapped in their homes for days.  Here is an excerpt from the November 26, 1948 issue of the Colfax County Press:

“Creston residents had a taste of pioneer life-no phones, no electric lights, no mail, no newspapers, no radios-over the weekend following the blizzard and no one seems to like it.
The storm started late Thursday afternoon. Persons having cars on the streets that evening found it impossible to travel and many cars were stalled on the town’s streets until late Saturday.
“Shortly after 11:00 p.m. the electric current failed and the town was without lights or power for 40 hours. The storage batteries kept phone service in town alive until Saturday morning.
“Families with Stokers were unable to keep the houses warm. At least two families moved in with neighbors. Several families, who had no cooking facilities other than electric stoves, had cold meals.
“Highways were blocked in all directions by the snow and wind which continued all day Friday. Business was at a stand-still Friday, some businessmen went up town only long enough to build fires.
“The road to Columbus was opened Saturday afternoon, the road to Leigh was opened Sunday evening and by Monday afternoon a rotary plow had opened the highway to Humphrey. Local phone service was resumed Saturday evening but long distance service will still out Wednesday. Many roads along the mail routes were still blocked a week after the storm.
“A road two miles south of Creston was opened to Humphrey Saturday because of the illness of Hans Twistmeyer. Mr. Twistmeyer was taken to Omaha to a hospital. Another road was opened to the Ewald Hake farm Monday because of the illness of Mrs. Hake. Eldon Kapels suffered a broken leg when a horse he was riding fell.”

Not only were roads closed, but railroads as well.  The Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroad stopped running at McCook, a major railroad junction, and both telephone and telegraph service was out for many communities.  The central part of the state was hit hardest – Albion got 20 inches of snow, and the Bloomfield-Hartington area in northeastern Nebraska got up to 24 inches.  Fremont got 10 inches of snow, but Omaha only got 2 and Lincoln 3 inches.

Photo:  Chicago and Northwestern tracks near Harrison, Nebraska.  (Photo courtesy of Nebraska Educational Telecommunications [NET]  http://www.netnebraska.org/node/801376 )

And after that pre-winter blast, there were a series of moderate snowfalls and moderate temperatures in November and December.  Then winter resumed in force on January 2, 1949. The forecast on New Year’s Day called for light to moderate snow across the entire state.  Instead, the skies darkened in the west and brought a storm with high winds and large amounts of snow.  During the night, the temperature dropped from 32 down to -3 degrees, and the winds gusted to 65-70 miles per hour.  The storm howled until January 5, lasting from 48 to 72 hours in much of the state.

Jim Krzycki, a member of the Schuyler Historical Society and co-curator of the Colfax County Museum, wrote the following story in the July 24, 2013 edition of the Columbus Telegram:

Blizzard of 1949 stuff of legend

“Jan. 2, 1949 started out as a calm, almost autumn-like, morning. I was in Kindergarten at the time. The Nebraska Weather Service issued the following forecast: “Cloudy with light snow. Little change in temperature. Highs today 25-30.”

In Oklahoma, a storm was being born. A great mass hundreds of miles wide began travelling eastward across Oklahoma and Kansas. It brought winds up to 65 miles per hour. The Blizzard of ’49 was on its way.  Like a hurricane, the winds blew. In its center was an eye of calm and clear weather. Around it, revolving counter-clockwise, were whipping winds. On its lower side it brought a sodden rain and mild temperatures. On the upper side, chilled by inflowing arctic air, the storm brought snow that a howling wind churned to blot out visibility and blow into drifts. Colorado, Wyoming, and western Nebraska first felt this storm. The rest of the state of Nebraska braced itself.

Next came a meteorological freak. Instead of continuing on its expected path through Kansas, the storm turned north that carried it past Grand Island. The storm then doubled back, moving as far west as Valentine, straightened out and went to the northeast. As a result, Omaha and the most extreme eastern Nebraska escaped the storm but the rest of the state really got its share. Western Nebraska got a double dose. Nebraska was being crippled. Trains were lifeless, and travelers huddled in wayside refuges or felt the effects of frostbite in stalled vehicles. Whole towns went on short rations of food and fuel. Communities responded to the occasion. Roadside businesses, filling stations, and homes gave shelter to the travelers that stumbled in from the freezing temperatures.

In Schuyler, the police force and fire department went door to door asking everybody if they could aid stranded motorists. My grandparents were able to help two couples. As soon as they were made comfortable, grandma started baking fresh bread and other delicacies. The people were with us for several days and helped with everything they could during their stay.

It took a long time to clear the streets and roads due to the very high drifts (some were as high as 25 or 30 feet) and stalling of the snow plows.

There was no east-west train traffic. Highways were closed. The entire community was paralyzed. And there was no school!  Neighbors were helping neighbors and the people that were being sheltered pitched in to help with household as well as shoveling snow. We had to have a clear path to the barn for wood, coal and cobs, and there had to be a path to the chicken coop and garage, too. Sometimes, people went to aid the sick who were waiting for medical emergency crews that couldn’t get to them.

Veterans of the blizzard of 1888, who remembered that storm, were impressed with the magnitude of the blizzard of ’49.

Some 7,500 passengers on 50 trains were backed up from Salt Lake City to Chicago.

If roads or rails were cleared, the snow blew right back in.

Often, roads were cleared — one lane only. After the roads were opened in this way, the plows went back to widen the clearing.

Airplanes were used to get medical help to those in need and to fly feed to cattle and livestock. Even yeast was flown in as bread trucks could not make deliveries and many a woman had to bake their own bread.

Which blizzard was worse — the blizzard of 1888 or the blizzard of 1949?

According to the Omaha Weather Bureau, the blizzard of 1888 was the most severe in loss of life, Although, the earlier storm records were sketchy and there were fewer observers, there were 14 lives lost during the storm of 1888 and only four lost their lives in the state of Nebraska during the blizzard of 1949. The storm of ’88 extended from east of the Rockies to the Gulf. The blizzard of ’49 extended through Colorado, Wyoming, Nebraska, and a portion of South Dakota. The blizzard of ’49 was more severe in wind velocity and the 40 inch snowfall was double that received in ’88. The same characteristics of both storms-was the fineness of the snow and the quickness with which it struck. The snow was a fine as flour and suffocated many animals and choked many people or made breathing difficult. The fine snow packed more tightly in ’49. The blizzard struck about 1 p.m. so many people were caught unaware when they ventured out in the pleasant morning weather. In ’88 the farm houses were further apart and the roads were not cleared, so getting to safety was more difficult. Storing of food for the winter made things a lot easier in case of bad weather in ’49. Earlier pioneer houses were more flimsy and offered poorer shelter.”

The National Weather Service in North Platte (http://www.crh.noaa.gov/lbf/?n=blizzard49 )  describes the record storm this way:

January 2, 2015 will mark the 66^th anniversary of the Blizzard of 1949 – a storm that today still reminds Nebraskans to be prepared before the winter storm strikes. The historic blizzard hit from January 2^nd to the 4^th, and was the first winter storm of the year to dump over two feet of snow for some locales. Blizzard impacts were found across four states and in Nebraska. The blizzard caused thousands of head of livestock lost, and the ones which survived some had to be shoveled out. The storm closed roadways and rails, which included Union Pacific Railroad’s main line that was closed for seven weeks.

Winter storms are considered the deceptive killers. Blizzards produce strong winds that can reach 35 miles per hour or higher. The Blizzard of 1949 produced winds of 50 to 60 mph that created snow drifts over 35 feet. In Brule Nebraska, snow drifts reached an estimated 20 feet at one farmstead. At the Happy Jacks Convenience Store in Brule, the old timers still remember the storm well. “Anytime a big winter storm is brewing, folks will call for home heating fuel, quickly adding that it could be as bad as the ’49 storm” said Wade Hill, an employee at Happy Jacks. In North Platte, the Weather Service recorded a three day storm snow total of 16.5 inches in town and 15.4 inches at Lee Bird Field.

The Blizzard of 1949 still remains one of the worst blizzards on record in Nebraska. Through joint efforts in humanitarian missions, lives and livestock were saved through “Operation Haylift” and “Operation Snowbound”.  For many areas, it took planes to deliver critical supplies to remote towns.

By the time the storm was over, Ellsworth, NE had reported 25” of snow, Crescent Lake 23”, Ogallala 18”, Gordon 16”, North Platte 15.4”, Ainsworth 15”, Merriman 14”, O’Neill 11”, and Broken Bow 10”.

The January 2-5, 1949 blizzard hit Western Nebraska especially hard.  Doug Wilson, who now lives in Lincoln, recalled that winter out west:

“I remember it well—what school kid could forget a Christmas vacation that was extended a week beyond the normal one of 2 weeks. My brothers and I had all the scooping we could wish for during that time. They were older and got a job with the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad clearing snow from the Chadron rail yards—lots of buildings beside the passenger depot. I worked the local residential neighborhood from morning to night—long days, but lots of money for a young kid. From that blizzard on, I had 5 near neighbors that gave me standing orders to clear their walks and drives whenever it snowed—something I did until 1956 when I moved from that neighborhood into the college dorm.

“A friend and I walked to the RR yards one day when a train crew was clearing the main track through town. Because of the snow depth and the way in which it had drifted, we walked up a long sloping drift that allowed us to stand atop a 12-15’ tall storage shed beside the tracks. From there we watched the crew with their V-plow (followed by several hopper cars of crushed rock for weight and then a large steam locomotive) try to penetrate the enormous drifts. They would back the train up to a spot about 2-3 miles east of town and make a run for it—kind of like we did once in a while with a car trying to get through some snow or mud. Their progress was slow, but they finally accomplished their goal—and we got a good showering of snow a few times when the train passed our vantage point atop the shed.  I later worked on a couple area ranches and those folks had great stories to tell about their ordeal of losing cattle and having hay dropped to aid the survivors. One of the ranchers in South Dakota (30 miles north of Chadron) didn’t get to town for 3 weeks—and that was to Oelrichs by tractor.

“My wife grew up in Holt County and was snowed away from home for a week. She and her brother stayed in Emmet with a friend until their dad picked them up and took them home with his track tractor while pulling a sled loaded with fuel barrels and groceries.”

Photo:  Chadron, Nebraska was buried under 41 inches of snow on January 4, 1949.  (Photo courtesy of Nebraska Educational Telecommunications [NET]  http://www.netnebraska.org/node/801376 )

More snows followed in late January, and the situation became so dire for ranchers and livestock in Western Nebraska that the National Guard and U.S. Army Corps of Engineers were called in to open roads with bulldozers (Operation Snowbound), provide aid, and drop hay to stranded cattle (Operation Haylift). Milder weather in February allowed everyone to dig out and catch their breath, but another blizzard on March 30-31 (up to 20 inches of snow and 60 mph winds) reminded everyone that winters can last long in the Cornhusker State.  Wessels Living History Farm in York, NE provides a summary of the relief efforts (http://www.livinghistoryfarm.org/farminginthe40s/life_30.html ):

Operation Snowbound was an effort by many groups, including the Fifth Army, the Red Cross, the Army Corps of Engineers, the Air Force, the National Guard and the Civil Air Patrol. In Nebraska, Operation Snowbound:

• covered 193,193 square miles in four states
• saved more than 4 million cattle from starvation
• freed more than 243,000 snowbound people
• cleared more than 115,0000 miles of road
• used 1,600 pieces of heavy equipment
• coordinated a 6,000-man workforce.

If you are up for some fascinating reading on these long winter nights, I recommend Harl A. Dalstrom’s “I’m Never Going to Be Snowbound Again – The Winter of 1948-1949 in Nebraska.”  Nebraska History 82 (2002): 110-166.    http://www.nebraskahistory.org/publish/publicat/history/full-text/2002-Snowbound.pdf   Dalstrom provides a comprehensive account of the impact of that winter, filled with individual stories of survival and details of the relief efforts.

So… was it the worst winter ever?  I remember a lot of long, snowy, cold winters in the 1950s and 1960s.  Blocked country roads and snow drifts you could tunnel into, walking onto the roofs of buildings on snow drifts, Highways 91 and 32 closed for days.  None of those winters was as bad this. But the Clarkson area may have experienced an even worse winter than 1948-49 within the living memories of a few of us – the Winter of 1936.  More on that next time.

Clarkson and the Great War: Part 2 – Our Village Joins the Fight

For the first 2 ½ years of World War I the United States was able to stay out of it.  The slaughter on the battlefields, month after month, was unlike anything that had ever been seen.  The losses of young men were unbelievable.  In a single day during the 1916 Battle of the Somme, the British lost 20,000 men killed and 40,000 wounded; when this one battle was over there were over 1 million casualties on both sides, and the trench lines had hardly moved.

Most Americans viewed it as just another endless European war in which monarchs and colonial empires settled their differences by conscripting their people into armies to fight it out.  Just the kind of thing many of our ancestors emigrated to America to get away from.   The American public in general wanted nothing to do with the Great War – President Wilson was re-elected in 1916 with the slogan “He kept us out of war.”

A good illustration of the attitude of most Americans toward the disaster occurring in Europe during 1914-1916 can be seen from a picture in the Clarkson Museum’s “war room.”

It depicts the Central Powers (Germany, Austria-Hungary, Ottoman Empire, and Bulgaria) as a many-headed Hydra and two-headed eagle battling animals symbolizing the other nations at war (the Allied Powers – Britain, France, etc.).  The dates on the bottom of the page count year after year of this terrible war, ending… when?  I suppose that the picture leans toward the Allied cause by depicting Germany as a black, snake-headed creature, but it’s a bit hard to tell – the message seems to be “Stay Out!”

In any event, it didn’t work.  By 1918, only the countries in gray in the map below had managed to avoid getting embroiled in the Great War:

Staying out of the fighting was probably a very popular sentiment in the Clarkson area as well.  Most of the locals were first- or second-generation immigrants from Germany or Bohemia/Moravia.  The Germans felt an attachment to their native land; they still spoke the language, ate their traditional foods, and were proud of their culture.  It’s only natural that they would be unwilling to go to war against their homeland, and they didn’t relish the thought of taking up arms to kill their friends and relatives back home.  Among other reasons, many Bohemians had immigrated to America in the late 1800s to avoid being conscripted into the Austro-Hungarian army to fight for a cause and an Empire which they hated.  If the United States entered the war, they might be drafted and sent back to Europe to die, perhaps fighting against their fellow Bohemians in the Austrian army.  On the other hand, if the Austro-Hungarian Empire was beaten and dismantled, the Czech-Americans could help their friends back home achieve the freedom and independence for which they had dreamed for 300 years.  These are the kinds of impulses that young men had to balance as U.S. involvement in the Great War was discussed.

But eventually the U.S. was pushed too far by Germany’s provocations.  In an effort to starve Great Britain, Germany commenced unrestricted U-Boat (submarine) warfare on all shipping toward England, and the toll of American lives lost from sunken freighters and passenger liners began to add up.  A secret message from Germany to the Mexican government (the Zimmerman telegram) was intercepted which offered to Mexico large areas of the American Southwest (Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico) if they would ally themselves with Germany in a war against the U.S.  Abandoning neutrality, President Wilson asked Congress to declare war on Germany on April 6, 1917.

Once the U.S. declared war on the Germany, Clarkson jumped in with both feet.    Less than a month later, 15 young men from Clarkson had volunteered for military service, and over the course of the war some 81 young men volunteered or were drafted, of whom 6 lost their lives.

On May 3, 1917 the Colfax County Press reported:

“Fifteen Clarkson youths volunteered for the Army, responding to President Wilson’s call for volunteers and pledged to fight for the flag which stands for honor and for the rights of mankind. The volunteers are: Richard Karel, Anton Luxa, Alois Hanel, Jos. Makovsky, Edward Vitek, Frank Polacek, Cyril Chrastil, Frank Zelenda, George Homola, Albin Vraspir, Emil Lukl, Anton J. Svoboda, Bohumil Bukacek and Wm. Rosmarin. Lad Kubil of Clarkson who is attending the University in Lincoln, has also enlisted in the army and will leave for Fort Snelling, Minn. next week. The citizens of Clarkson, to show their appreciation and loyalty paid the boys transportation to Omaha besides giving each a gold five-dollar piece as a souvenir from home. Escorting the volunteers to Omaha was Jos. R. Vitek.”

A crowd gathered at the Opera House to celebrate their patriotism, on what must have been a chilly day (the men have removed their hats of course, but many of the women are wearing knit caps or shawls).  It was a solemn moment, and the men have serious, almost melancholy looks on their faces.  No one in the room knew what awaited them.

Happily, all 15 of these initial volunteers survived the war and returned home.  Although one of them, Frank Zelenda, died young due to war-related causes, most passed away in the 1960s after a long life.  Here are the stories and service records of some of them:

Bohumil Bukacek – May 18, 1893 – May 5, 1964.  His grave in the Bohemian Cemetery in Omaha displays the code “SGT CAS DET 1035 DEMOB GP WWI” (He was a Sergeant in a Casualty Detachment of the 1035^th Demobilization Group, whose task was to return soldiers to civilian life after they had been wounded or once hostilities were over).

Cyril Chrastek – Believed to have died on June 7, 1963 at age 65

 

 

 

Emil Lukl – January 7, 1886 – March 18, 1969 in Klamath Falls, OR.  His grave says “ENG1 US NAVY WWI” (Engineman First Class in the U.S. Navy).

Anton Luxa – May 14, 1896 – August 4, 1966.  Sgt. US Army.  Buried in San Antonio, TX

Joseph B. Makovsky – From the June 26, 1924 Leigh World – Jos. B. Makousky, adjutant of the Clarkson post of the American Legion, is in receipt of a supply of blanks for soldiers’ bonus and every ex-soldier of this community is requested to call on Mr. Makousky for same. Anyone desiring to have the blank filled out by the officer is asked to bring his discharge papers when making the application.

 

Frank Polacek – May 20, 1888 – July 4, 1960

William Rozmarin – August 17, 1896 – February 1979 (?)

Anton J. Swoboda – Bat. A 30, Coast Artillery

 

Edward Vitek – From the September 26, 1947 issue of the Leigh World

Funeral services were held for Edward Vitek, 50, at Clarkson whose remains were sent there from Chicago for burial.

Services were conducted at the New Zion Presbyterian Church by Rev. Rundon of Wahoo, in the absence of Rev. Filipi, who had an out of town mission. Pallbearers were members of the American Legion Post.

Edward Vitek was born in Clarkson, September 10, 1897. He was the son of the late Joseph and Anna Vitek. He grew to manhood in Clarkson and attended the public school there. In May 1917 he volunteered in the U.S. Army and served 19 months on the Hawaiian Island during World War I.

He was united in marriage to Miss Ida Krofta on June 18, 1925. They established their home in Creston where Mr. Vitek operated a meat market for several years, later moving to Chicago. He has been in failing health for the past few years and passed away September 19, 1947, at Hines Veterans Hospital in Maywood, Illinois.

He is survived by his wife, Ida; two sons, Kenneth and Larry; a sister, Mrs. Rudolph Novotny, Clarkson; three brothers, Joseph R. and Adolph E. of Clarkson and Frank J., of Buhl, Idaho.

Albin Vraspir – 1890-1954 WWI  Co. 202, C. A. C. T. (Coastal Artillery Corps)

Frank Zelenda –  Private, Coastal Artillery Corps.  Died Febuary 27, 1931.

From the August 16, 1917 Colfax County Press – Frank Zelenda, who left with the first Clarkson volunteer boys last May, wrote to his sister, Mrs. Anton Makovsky, that he arrived safely in the Philippine Islands and is nearly nine thousand miles from home

From the April 3, 1924 Colfax County Press –  Frank Zelenda spent the weekend in Schuyler at the home of Mr. and Mrs. William Roether. Mr. Zelenda returned last week from the May sanitarium where he was accompanied by Mr. Roether for an examination covering a peculiar condition that comes over him periodically.
Mr. Zelenda was one of the last Colfax county boys in the service to reach home, having been stationed in the Philippine Islands. Soon after his return he suffered a partial loss of his sight, the spell lasting for several weeks.
Another attack came upon him and several weeks later he was attacked for the third time. It was then that he decided to go to the Mayos for an examination. The case had progressed to such a point that it was waning, and the specialists advised that he return with the beginning of the next attack so he can be under observation.
Mr. Zelenda sees all objects in doubles. He is compelled to wear glasses with one eye darkened. In addition to this irregular vision, he feels dizzy, during these attacks.

From March 5, 1931 Colfax County Press – After suffering for a period of several years, Frank Zelenda, an ex-service man and a former Clarkson boy, made his supreme sacrifice at the Veterans Hospital in Little Rock, Arkansas, where he had been a patient for a long time. Word of his demise reached Clarkson relatives. He died at the age of 39 years, 8 months and 8 days.

The deceased was born in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, on the 19th day of June, 1891, and when a small boy he came to this community with his parents. The family located on a farm in Stanton County and after losing both of his parents, Frank came to Clarkson and made his home here for many years.

Shortly after America declared war on Germany, Frank joined a group of Clarkson volunteers and entred Uncle Sam’s fighting forces. He left Clarkson on May 3, 1917, with the first contingent of volunteers and remained in service for almost three years.

He returned to Clarkson in the fall of 1919, after having served in the Philipine and Hawaiian Islands. His health had been greatly impaired and he was unable to find relief for his illness.

In 1925, he was admitted to a Veterans hospital in Little Rock, Arkansas, where death ended his suffering.

The remains were brought to Clarkson and interment was made in the local cemetery. The rites were conducted from the home of Mr. and Mrs. Edward Zelenda, with services at the New Zion Church conducted by Rev. Filipi.

The deceased is survived by three brothers, Joseph Zelenda of Schuyler, Edward and Leo Zelenda of Clarkson; two sisters, Mrs. Anton Makovsky of Buhl, Idaho, and Mrs. W.H. Roether of Schuyler.

 

The names of those who served from the Clarkson area and survived the War were recorded in the November 3, 1921 issue of the Colfax County Press:

Jos. M. Makovsky, secretary of the Clarkson American Legion, Vitek Post, is in receipt of honorary certificates from the State Executive Department for all ex-servicemen who gave Clarkson as their home address while serving in the Army during the recent conflict.

All ex-servicemen included in the below published list are requested to apply for them at the Armistice day services at Clarkson Nov. 11, at which time the memorable documents will be officially handed out to them.

The Honor Roll referred to above contains the following names:
Albert O’Brien, Joseph B. Makovsky, Alois F. Tomes, Jos. F. Seda, Adolf W. Tomes, Frank Kozisek, Lester Scovill, Robert H. Noh, Frank Zelenda, Oscar W. Hahn, Emil Lukl, Henry M. Menke, William Severa, Frank Bourek, Frank R. Vanicek, George Humlicek, Paul J. Havel, Charles J. Vanicek, Charles J. Novotny, William A. Karel, Jos. Hejtmanek, John E. Knapp, Fred Teply, Anton J. Podany, Jerry Mundil, Edward Cada, Adolf A. Jonas, Adolf J. Faimon, Frank A. Podany, Jerry J. Lukl, William Budin, Emil J. Novotny, Richard Karel, Stanley Kubik, Frank J. Janousek, Frank Hamernik, Emil Hladky, Jos. Lapour, John C. Mastny, Jos. Kudera, Louis V. Hanel, Jerry M. Molacek, Jos. E. Stanek, John G. Fuhr, George Homola, William E. Podany, Henry Janda, James Zoubek, James Podany, Ludvik Novotny, Edward E. Hanel, Emil Ahrens, Bohumil Krofta, Anton J. Swoboda, Ladislav Horak, Frank Polacek, Emil J. Konicek, Jerry Kadlec, Jay E. Arnold, Louis E. Warner, Leonard F. Noh, Henry J. Dworak, Cyril Chrastek, Charles Lukl, Charles H. Glasner, Albin Vraspir, George A. Reiter, J.W. Knipping, Percy Butterfield, William Rozmarin, Jos. Mundil, Jr., Edward Vitek, Charles Gross, Albert Walla, G.B. Fayman.

Portraits of some of these young servicemen are below:

 

 

 

 

 William A. Karel (trombone) and Leonard F. Noh (saxophone)

 

These 75 names do not include the 6 Clarkson men who gave their lives in the Great War.  More about them in a future post.