Picture yourself doing the following:

• Looking at photographs or portraits of unidentified individuals and wondering whether anyone remembers who they were or if someone is looking to know more about them.
• Recording someone today so that a great-great-granddaughter, who isn’t even born yet, can hear their voice one day.
• Reading letters and becoming the memory keeper of the writer and recipient.
• Helping people find a loved one’s grave or reconnecting a family with a story they thought was lost.
• Realizing that a preservation decision or description of a record you made today may determine whether someone 150 years from now finds their great-grandmother’s story.

At the State Archives, we are entrusted with preserving not only information but memory itself. We are honored to be keepers of the past and present—helping the future connect with both. Memory links generations and forgetting these memories is a profound loss to subsequent generations. Ensuring that the stories of those who came before us are preserved is something that archivists take on every day. People often think of archivists as working with dusty boxes full of old papers and photographs. What they don't see is the emotional labor that comes with preserving the stories and memories inside those dusty boxes.

Schoolchildren at Fort Berthold Mission in Elbowoods, circa 1930. When working with photographs, I often find myself thinking about the individuals captured in them. What were their names? Who were their families? Do they have descendants? What did they go on to do in life? What were they like? SHSND SA 00041-01123

On any given day, an archivist may hold a soldier’s final letter home, read a diary entry describing a hardship, or process photographs of communities forever changed by disaster. We preserve records of war, violence, crimes, and prejudice alongside celebrations, milestones, and moments of joy.

Bismarck businessman George F. Will’s Feb. 19, 1919, journal entry reflecting on the death of his wife, Katharine. Journals preserve more than the memories of the writer; they can also capture deep emotions. Sometimes those emotions are so raw that as I work with these documents I find myself carrying a little of their weight, too. SHSND SA 10190-0036-003

We help families searching for the only surviving photograph of a grandparent, researchers hoping to identify an individual in an unmarked grave, Tribal Nations working to reconnect ancestors’ stories with their people, veterans looking for documentation of military service, and families seeking answers to questions that may have remained secret for generations. We work to ensure those who came before are not forgotten.

In these moments, an archivist is more than a keeper of old records and becomes akin to a trusted confidante. I’ve shared laughter, tears, hugs, and high fives from total strangers when assisting with searches. However, we cannot always provide the answers people hope for. Sometimes the records no longer exist. Sometimes they were never created in the first place. Sometimes they hold painful answers. We preserve both the accomplishments and failures of history because future generations deserve an honest and true record of the past.

Return address on a Nov. 11, 1941, letter from Richard S. Sherven to Harold Skogstad. Sherven, originally from McKenzie County, was stationed aboard the USS Arizona. Less than a month after sending this letter to his friend, Sherven was killed during the Dec. 7, 1941, attack on Pearl Harbor. SHSND SA MSS 20826

That said, it’s important to remember that as archivists we cannot let emotion influence how we care for records. But we also cannot pretend the stories we work with leave no impression. There are collections that stay with us long after we’ve closed the box for the day. Every decision we make aims to ensure these memories are protected and accessible. The way a collection is arranged, described, or preserved affects whether someone decades from now will be able to connect with a memory of a loved one.

Our responsibility is to help memory survive. That responsibility is profound. Each archivist at the North Dakota State Archives is honored to carry this weight on behalf of the people of this state and region—past, present, and future.

Hello and happy American Archives Month from the staff of the State Archives! With thousands of record collections documenting the history of North Dakota from the territorial period to yesterday’s news, there is so much to learn from our holdings here. I’m always interested in finding out what information can be found in collections that might not have been the original intention of its creators or what you might think based on the title and summary. To find out, I selected a collection at random from the State Historical Society’s online catalog, fiNDhistory, and asked State Archives staff to tell me what other aspects of history they think this collection can shed some light on, apart from its main subject of genealogy.

The collection I chose is MSS 11059: Muir and Kloubec Families Papers. It contains letters, census records, photographs, and other genealogical records documenting the Kloubec and Muir families.

Let’s see what they came up with!

Lindsay Meidinger, deputy state archivist 
Researchers can use census records (originally used for genealogy research in this collection) and family histories to study occupations, including how particular types of work changed over time and how those changes affected the daily lives of workers and their families. For example, the Kloubec and Muir Families Papers could provide insight into how occupations such as laborer, farmer, or “at home” shaped family life or how an individual’s occupation changed after immigrating to the United States.

Emily Kubischta, manuscript archivist
The census records included in these papers can also shed light on differences in data collection points between the Canadian census, U.S. federal census, and various state censuses. Understanding which data points were prioritized may bolster research on national, regional, or local politics.

Sarah Walker, head of reference services
There is a lot to be gleaned from genealogical collections and in a multitude of ways! In this collection, there is a photo of a woman standing in a garden in front of a house. The handwritten note on the back states that this was “Uncle Laughlan’s daughter Janet” and details the land description documenting where this family home was situated. That alone is a goldmine for researchers looking into the family, irrespective of the genealogical value.

However, what really catches my eye is a small rectangular label on the back containing internal information from the photography studio that issued this print, including the photo number and the studio’s name. So cool! We can use this to look up information about the photography studio that produced this photo, learn more about how such a business operated and how photo orders were carried out (an additional copy cost 50 cents!), and get the bonus of seeing a very personal behind-the-scenes view of a family that wanted to preserve their history pictorially. How relatable it is to see that they, like us today, wanted to hold a picture near to them of their family and home—perhaps it was once over a mantelpiece or on display elsewhere in the very family home pictured.

Front: Undated photo of the home of John McLean, a relative of the Muir branch of the family, Hilbert Township, Ontario.
Back: Don’t forget to flip a picture over! Information about the family, location of the home, and the photo studio that produced this print can all be found on the reverse. SHSND SA 11059-00001

Virginia Bjorness, head of technical services
The primary contributor to this collection, Wallace Muir, wrote of growing up in LaMoure during the Great Depression (Box 1, Folder 22), which gives us insight into everyday life at a critical moment in our nation’s history. He writes about years of want and foreclosures, the general attitude to federal programs, and, of course, the terribly dry, hot summers during this time. Lighthearted stories of childhood experiences with his twin brother, Willis, are woven throughout this short biography.

Additionally, this collection is an amazing example of how to conduct genealogy generally, or at least how to conduct it in the 1980s and 1990s (before Google and Ancestry became household names). In addition to photocopies of census records, plat maps, marriage records, and newspaper clippings, this collection is loaded with correspondence and research notes. Wallace (Wally) Muir wrote numerous letters to far-flung relatives in the hopes of getting a more complete understanding of the whereabouts and lives of his ancestors, and he took and included copious notes and quizzical, or perhaps frustrated, musings, such as “Having two Anthony Kloubecs is a little confusing. They both were the same age and lived next door to each other” (Box 1, Folder 2). You never know what speedbumps will arise when researching family history or how many others will gladly pitch in to connect the dots.

Greta Beck, audiovisual archivist 
I took a closer look at correspondence between Wallace Muir and Elaine Lundberg who were coordinating efforts to research their families’ genealogy in the 1990s. Future historians could use the correspondence to study how two people chose to communicate in a time when one had the option of using a word processer on a computer to type and print a letter, sending a physical letter through the mail, or using computers to send emails.

Letters from Box 1, Folder 5 of the Muir and Kloubec Families Papers. Along with the required postage, some of the letters are decorated with fun seasonal stamps. SHSND SA MSS 11059

Thinking outside the box or thinking outside the collection title/description, can open up so many more information sources, ideas, and avenues for interpretation to researchers, though it might not be easy to do! If you have questions about researching North Dakota history or the State Archives collections, send us an email, archives@nd.gov. Our reference staff would love to assist you in finding the right collection to help with your research!

State Historical Society of North Dakota staff began working on content for the new Military Gallery in summer 2024. I wanted to share a few things that I learned as I dig into this ongoing project. Some of these things made me wonder, “How did I not know this already?” But if I didn’t know them, perhaps others would find them as fascinating as I do.

1) The Rough Rider State?

Many North Dakotans volunteered to serve in the 1898 Spanish-American War. But according to Theodore Roosevelt’s book, “The Rough Riders,” only three North Dakotans served with him in the 1st United States Volunteer Cavalry (better known as the Rough Riders): Jesse Langdon of Fargo, William T. de Zychlinski of Bismarck, and Frank Kania of Jamestown.

The majority of the Roosevelt’s troops were men from Southwestern states and territories like Texas, Indian Territory (now Oklahoma), and New Mexico. Most North Dakota men served with either the 1st North Dakota Volunteer Infantry (today’s North Dakota National Guard) or the 3rd U.S. Volunteer Cavalry (nicknamed Grigsby’s Cowboys). While the 1st ND Volunteers sailed to the Philippine campaign and the Rough Riders charged up San Juan Hill, Grigsby’s Cowboys never made it out of the continental United States. The regiment stalled at Camp Thomas in Chickamauga, Georgia, suffering from typhoid and dysentery and never seeing combat.

Uniform of Leslie Simpson, 3rd U.S. Volunteer Cavalry Regiment (Grigsby’s Cowboys). Simpson, of Dickinson, was serving as state’s attorney for Stark County when he enlisted. SHSND 6463.1-.2

2) The Mock Battle of Manila, Aug. 13, 1898

“The battle of Manila is a matter of history,” wrote Maj. Frank White to his family about his participation in the battle. “It was rather disappointing as they only sent four vessels in and they did but little firing. I expected to see the whole fleet go at them.”

White, from Valley City, along with the rest of the 1st North Dakota Volunteer Infantry arrived in Manila, Philippines, 13 days earlier and participated in the battle marking the end of the Spanish-American War. Unknown to White, and nearly all the American soldiers, the battle was carefully staged between U.S. and Spanish commanders. Spanish troops were under siege in Manila with Filipino forces surrounding the city and the U.S. Navy blockading Manila Bay. Rather than surrender to Filipinos, who had been under Spanish rule for some 300 years, Spain wanted to save face and entered secret negotiations with the U.S. commanders. On the morning of Aug. 13, 1898, the staged bombardment of Manila commenced and lasted a matter of a few hours with minor casualties. That December, Spain would cede the Philippines to the U.S, directly leading to the Philippine-American War the following year. The 1st North Dakota Volunteers returned to the U.S. in August 1899, and White went on to serve as governor of North Dakota. The Philippine-American War finally concluded in 1902, but the Philippines remained a U.S. territory until 1946.

Artillery shell fragment collected by Capt. William P. Moffet at the Battle of Manila. The inscription reads: “Part of an Exploded Shell. Presented by Capt. W.P.M. Fired by [the USS] Monterey at City of Manila, Aug. 13, 1898.” SHSND 2886

3) Dec. 7 … and Dec. 8, 1941

Radioman 3rd Class Don Sjoblom of Bismarck stood on the gangway of the USS Dobbin when the air raid on Pearl Harbor started. At the time, Hawaii was still a U.S. territory. Ten hours later, but across the international date line, another North Dakotan, Staff Sgt. Walter F. Wheeling of Plaza, stationed at Nichols Field near Manila, learned about the bombing of the U.S. air base at Clark Field, 65 miles north of the capital city. Most Americans will never forget Pearl Harbor, but perhaps many do not realize multiple other U.S. territories in the Pacific Ocean besides Hawaii suffered the same fate. Japan targeted Guam, Midway Island, Wake Island, and the Philippines in the same 12-hour period.

What I never knew is the number of lives lost in the Philippines during World War II. Wheeling survived the Bataan Death March following Japan’s invasion of the Philippines, but thousands of soldiers—American and Filipino—perished. Throughout the course of the war, it is estimated between 500,000 and one million civilians lost their lives in the Philippines. While civilians born in Hawaii were considered U.S. citizens, Filipino civilians were not. An explanation of this is a dive into American imperialism we don’t have time for here, but the loss of life in an American territory during World War II is staggering.

A page from Staff Sgt. Walter F. Wheeling’s World War II reminiscences. Read more at FiNDhistory. SHSND SA 10873-01382

There is always something more to learn about history. I am grateful to the North Dakotans who have entrusted us with the stories of their service. Knowing about these events is one thing, but learning about them through the letters, reminiscences, and physical mementos of North Dakotans creates a deeper connection to our shared past.

This past May, I graduated from Bemidji State University in Minnesota with a bachelor's in social studies. I began my internship at the State Archives with very little knowledge of North Dakota, as I am a Minnesota native and have rarely traveled farther west than Fargo. Over the summer, however, I gained a crash course in North Dakota history while developing valuable skills that will benefit me throughout my career. 

Most of my time was spent assisting visitors at the reference desk in the State Archives. One of the most common requests I received was related to genealogical research, with visitors often seeking information about their ancestors. The reference desk has access to a variety of resources available to the public. I regularly helped patrons find death records, locate obituaries and birth announcements, and use our newspaper collection on microfilm to find specific information. 

Microfilm drawers at the State Archives’ Reading Room.

When I was not assisting visitors in the Reading Room, I spent my time researching and writing for Prairie Public’s “Dakota Datebook.” I wrote seven entries during my time at the State Archives. I also worked on a project to categorize and label naturalization papers from Morton County ranging from the late 1800s through to the early 1900s. For each document, I verified names, dates, and countries of origin to ensure the information was correct in our system.

Naturalization record from Cavalier County, 1885.

Overall, this internship was an incredible experience. It provided me with meaningful, hands-on archival and reference work while exposing me to many different aspects of the profession. This opportunity has strengthened my understanding of the field and given me a clearer picture of the career I hope to pursue.

How would I describe this summer? Hot! Days like these make me wonder how people in the past stayed cool without air conditioning or enjoyed the outdoors when it was sweltering. After searching through the museum collections, I selected a few items that help explain how they did it and often how we still do it today.

It’s fair to say that women’s bathing suits have gone through a major transformation over the last 100 years. The first swimsuits were made of wool and more like slimmed-down dresses or jumpers with shorts.

A navy-and-white wool swimsuit from about 1900. SHSND 14773.1 

Wearing wool, and so much of it, doesn’t sound like it would provide much relief from the heat. Plus, it would be heavy when wet. It’s no surprise then that coverage rapidly decreased as the century wore on. In the 1970s, Signe Snortland made her own bikini out of stretch synthetic fabric, which dried much quicker than the wool swimsuit from decades before. Her family also enjoyed a refreshing pool in their Bismarck backyard.

Signe Snortland cleans the family inground pool in the 1970s. Her groovy bikini is part of the museum collections. SHSND 2007.13.53 

Can’t fit a permanent pool in your backyard? Consider an inflatable kiddie pool, like the one the Snortland family had in their yard in the 1950s. This plastic wading pool, also in the museum collections, has a green bottom and yellow sides featuring red fish. It is a perfect size and depth to cool down the tiny humans in your family. 

Signe and Kristi Snortland sit in an inflatable kiddie pool in the 1950s. SHSND 2007.13.26

Another refreshing backyard activity is running through the sprinkler. I remember precisely timing my jumps over the sprinkler to be sprayed with the desired amount of water. 

The Nelson Turbo-Heart sprinkler was a staple of 1980s summer days. SHSND 1985.62.1

If you don’t have a yard or don’t want to mess with any sort of pool in your yard, public pools are a great option. Bismarck Parks & Recreation District once sold pool membership patches that attached to your swimsuit. A person could then go to a Bismarck public pool as many times as they wanted for the summer.

Bismarck Pools annual pass patches for 1975, 1981, and 1982 used by the children of Joseph F. Schneider and Vera Wahlman. SHSND 2018.86.1-3

Another way to cool down is to eat cold food such as ice cream. The best place to get ice cream is an ice cream shop. When it is hot outside, one might want an ice cream sandwich. Have you ever wondered how they get the slices of ice cream so even? Well, clearly you need an ice cream sandwich maker in your life. After it slices the ice cream, you press the lever and the ice cream is pushed out, right onto a waiting sandwich. 

Ice cream sandwich maker. SHSND 17880

Ice cream sandwiches can melt quickly though and make a mess. A good way to contain all that mess is to have a shake or malt. This malted milk machine was made by Hamilton Beach and dates to about the 1920s. 

Ice Cream malted milk machine. SHSND 17880

I hope this has given you some ideas to cool down this summer. I might make myself a malt and sit in an inflatable wading pool in my backyard.

While up to my elbows in weeds working in the gardens at the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center, my mind has ample opportunity to wander. The rhythmic action of dislodging a weed to grapple the land back from the wildness of nature creates a flow state. My conscious mind quiets, allowing my unconscious mind to tap into the past, and for a moment the professional and the personal intersect.

Great northern beans in the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center’s Oscar H. Will garden. Our gardens provide a tactile way to share more of our historical content with visitors. The Mandans and Hidatsas were agricultural civilizations; this is an example of what they grew.

The history of many North Dakotans is held in the soil. My German Russian ancestors came to this area with the hope of building a future—a hope carried in seeds and a future held in the crops and produce these seeds would become. They looked to the harvest to sustain themselves and future generations. 

Four-year-old me makes Christmas cookies with my grandmother. Christmas never saw an empty cookie plate.

I could not help but connect my weeding at the Interpretive Center with my grandmothers in their huge gardens and kitchens—saving, storing, canning, and putting by for the coming winters—and my grandfathers out in the fields growing wheat that would be milled for bread. They would gaze at the sky to read the weather, touch the soil to diagnose the conditions. 

You can take the farmer off the farm, but you can’t keep him away from tractors. My grandfather loved “cutting hay” even in his later career working for Dickinson’s park board.

I found myself scanning the skies and crumbling the dirt between my fingertips. I found myself whispering words of encouragement to the seedlings and sprouts I was defending from the thistles and creeping Jenny. I found myself echoing generations of the last 150 years. 

The North Dakota sky draws you in and transports you through time. Notice the vistas and clouds forming on the horizon beyond the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center: pure magic.

North Dakota may have a reputation of harshness, but it forges within all who grow here a hardiness that can weather every extreme. I often joked with my grandparents that despite all the places they could have chosen to make their lives, they picked, or chose to stay in, North Dakota. But they grew where they were planted, and their resilience in the face of uncertainty was passed down through the generations like my grandfather’s blue eyes.

The lives my grandparents lived wove a thread into the tapestry of my history, my present, and my future. Their endurance, resilience, patience, and love resonate through all their descendants. Theirs was a legacy of stewardship, and we will carry that legacy through every generation that follows. 

We’ve all been shaped and sustained by the land on which we live. We’re all building our lives and our futures from the ground up. The challenges we face year after year are a testament to the abundance of potential here. Facing the weeds and finding the future happening in real time each time I pick up my trowel at the Interpretive Center brings a definite feeling of humbling satisfaction. It transports me back to the hope of my ancestors breaking ground for the first time, the sweetness of the jams canned through the years, and the taste of the fresh bread. The weeds make the bounty more significant and the flavors of success all the richer.