As a security officer, I have logged many miles patrolling the galleries at the North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum. During these daily patrols, I challenge myself to focus on the depth of information selective items represent. Much like the title character of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, I believe it is only by journeying down historical rabbit holes and digging deeper into the past that I can comprehend its significance and contemporary reverberations.

Along the north wall of the State Museum’s Inspiration Gallery: Yesterday and Today, you will find a small picture of a Hunkpapa Lakota gentleman who was born around 1830. His anglicized name is Iron Horn. The story of Iron Horn and his siblings reflects the tragic choices forced on northern Plains people in the mid-to-late 19th century. Iron Horn’s family was divided over whether to accommodate Euro-American migratory pressure. Three of his brothers defied the U.S. government mandate that they retire to a reservation, joining up with Sitting Bull and fleeing to Canada after the Battle of the Greasy Grass. One of those brothers was Rain-in-the-Face; he would be mythologized in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem “The Revenge of Rain-in-the Face.” Iron Horn and two other brothers stayed on the Missouri River and became leaders in varying capacities on the Standing Rock Reservation. Ironically one of the Standing Rock brothers, Sgt. Charles Shavehead, was killed while on duty as a Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) policeman during the arrest of Sitting Bull. Theirs was a family torn apart by the untenable choices they were forced to make.

The story of Iron Horn, pictured in 1872, and his siblings reflects the tragic choices forced on northern Plains people. SHSND SA B0299

Associated with Iron Horn is an awl, used by his wife Ina. It is easy to pass by the small display featuring Iron Horn, his wife, and her awl; I am sure many visitors to the State Museum do so. But for the analytical observer willing to invest time and a systemic approach to understanding the relationship among Iron Horn, the loss of traditional and religious values, and his wife’s awl, deeper revelations about our own existence and its impact on others may be discovered. This small exhibit kindled my interest and provided a conduit to further explore what might appear at first glance to be a negligible implement.

According to a journal article in Plains Anthropologist by Linea Sundstrom, the awl represented much more than a leather tool. As such, the transition from bone awls to using the metal type of awl housed in the Inspiration Gallery represented a significant shift in Lakota religious and ceremonial tradition. On the surface, this change was based on technological improvements. However, lost in the “technological advancement” was the cultural and religious significance tied to the bone awl.

For Lakota women, the bone awl was imperative to actualizing physical (womanhood), spiritual (visions), and pragmatic (production) aspirations. The act of sharpening bone awls created rock art, which was associated with female coming of age, played an important role in attaining visions, and ultimately created a useful tool for beadwork and other endeavors. The Iron Horn awl on exhibit in our museum was repurposed from “an old knife.” The adoption of metal technology, in effect, diminished the awl’s role as a transcendent cultural symbol for the Lakota and led to a significant loss of customs and religious heritage.

The transition from bone awls, left, to metal awls impacted the tool’s significance in Lakota religious and cultural life. This metal awl, right, was made by Iron Horn and used by his wife, Ina. SHSND 86.226.13798, 92.2.22, .24, .21, .25, 15600.62, 1982.285.31

This historical shift has often been explained in an ethnocentric manner by Euro-Americans. But by re-examining the broader cultural context behind such shifts, I have acquired a better understanding of the dynamic and multifaceted nature of historical discovery, as well as an appreciation for the awl’s importance to Native American women. Likewise, by understanding the fractured structure of Iron Horn’s clan, I gained insight into contemporary issues which impact both Native American communities and the U.S. political landscape.

Ultimately, I have found investigating historical rabbit holes can help bring about an enlightened understanding of lives lived. Exploring different cultures and perspectives of the past contributes to a shared contemporary understanding of who we are and how our various identities, in turn, shape our communities.

Guest Blogger: Keith Smith

Originally from Southern California, Keith Smith moved to Bismarck in 2017 to be closer to his grandkids, following significant stops in Phoenix, Arizona, and Logan, Utah. He became a security officer at the ND Heritage Center & State Museum in spring 2019 and is currently pursuing a master’s in U.S. History from Fort Hays State University. He has been married for 40 years and graduated from the University of Wyoming with a bachelor’s in social science.

Dakota the Dinomummy is returning! One of our most popular artifacts has been having a well-deserved rest and a bit of spa time. But in fall 2021 a thoroughly refreshed Dakota will return to the halls of the North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum in Bismarck.

Dakota is a significant part of the region’s fossil record. Discovered in 1999 on a ranch near Marmarth in the extreme southwestern corner of the state, Dakota is an adolescent Edmontosaurus, one genus in a larger group of duck-billed dinosaurs called hadrosaurs. Dakota died in the swampy environment that was ancient North Dakota during the Late Cretaceous epoch, which lasted from about 100 to 66 million years ago. The carcass remained exposed long enough for the skin to dry, then the remains were buried in sedimentary material allowing for the preservation of some of the soft organs and skin. They have since become stone, but their distinctive mass and textures remain. The muscles and tendons are particularly recognizable in the tail section.

Stylized illustration of an Edmontosaurus.

Dakota’s former exhibit case in the main corridor of the State Museum was disassembled just prior to Thanksgiving 2019. I remember thinking at that time the massive ribcage looked like something that would have appeared on the Flintstones’ holiday table.

Dakota’s ribcage prior to returning to the paleontology lab.

After the wall components were removed, the fossil’s two huge stone sections were relocated to the paleontology lab in the basement, where the paleo staff began months of work to expose a larger portion of the fossil for scientific research. However, before the sections could be moved, their wooden frames had to be raised and blocked, and heavy-duty casters added to their undersides. That involved several hardy individuals shimmying under the suspended masses to attach the wheels. Then, once the wheels were in place, moving four tons of fossilized hadrosaur required both a forklift and staff member muscle.

As we moved the second section down the corridor, a little boy observed the action from his perch on a bench. He was wide-eyed. As we rumbled by him, I said, “It’s not every day a dinosaur passes by.”

North Dakota Geological Survey paleontologists Clint Boyd and Jeff Person, along with Chief Preparator Bryan Turnbow, get Dakota ready for its move.

On the move past the front entrance and mastodon skeleton.

While Dakota has been missed, its time away has been very productive. It was thoroughly scanned and a 3D model created. It has also undergone extensive preparation with the removal of more than 2,000 pounds of stone and plaster. Both the preparation and survey processes revealed many insights, especially regarding Dakota’s demise. Those new details remain proprietary pending peer review and publication. But stay tuned: More will be revealed in time.

Dakota’s return will include a new display case and interpretive content. Chief Preparator Bryan Turnbow along with a team of State Historical Society staff and paleontologists from the North Dakota Geological Survey worked closely with Taylor Studios in Illinois to fabricate Dakota’s new environment and update the interpretive text. The full fossil will not be on exhibit. However, extensive work on one of the arms will be showcased on a raised mount, and custom lighting will illuminate special features. New interpretive signage will accompany the display, with references and fresh discoveries that will help make Dakota more relevant and understandable to museum visitors.

A 3D model of Dakota’s skin will be included as part of the new installation.

One especially cool feature of the new installation will be a tactile component allowing visitors to touch a 3D model of Dakota’s skin. And much like the young visitor watching the huge dinosaur fossil rumbling down the hallway, for most of us, this will probably be the closest we come to encountering a “real” dinosaur.

My drive down U.S. Highway 83 runs straight and lumpy through green fields punctuated by the occasional small town anchored by grain elevators and church spires. It’s high summer, the day of the Accordion Jam Fest at the Welk Homestead State Historic Site just outside Strasburg, and I’m eager to see where the famed entertainer and bandleader spent his early years. Still relatively new to my job at the State Historical Society of North Dakota, I’ve made a pact to acquaint myself with as many state historic sites as possible before winter’s onset.

While the Welk Homestead is my ultimate destination, I’ve been told I can’t miss a stop at Keller’s Hardware Hank on Strasburg’s Main Street, where a “secret” door in the shop leads to a former hotel turned museum.

I’ve called ahead, and when I arrive co-owner Gary Keller wastes no time in giving me a rundown of the building’s evolution since his immigrant grandfather Valentine Keller bought the place in 1910. At the time, it was an implement shop, which sold windmills and horse-drawn farm equipment. By 1917, Valentine had ripped “the roof and front off,” added a story, and expanded the building into a hotel and restaurant, which opened in March of that year and offered “modern” amenities such as hot and cold running water, electric lights, and steam heat. For a quarter century, the hotel would serve as a way station for an array of colorful characters, including bootleggers, boxers, and even the odd bear.

An overhead sign in Keller’s Hardware Hank, left, points in the direction of a “secret” door located behind a wall of paint sample cards.

Yes, you heard that right.

As Gary explains: “There was a vaudeville act in town, and they had a trained bear. After the performance, they brought the bear into the hotel, took him down into the basement and chained him to a post. Dad could hear the bear’s chain tinkling on the concrete.”

Needless to say, his father, Valentine Keller Jr., who was spending the night in the small room behind the lobby desk, had a tough time falling asleep.

In the early 1940s, Valentine Jr. opened a hardware store on the ground floor, which has been in existence ever since, and the hotel shuttered shortly thereafter, never to reopen again. An uncle and his wife briefly occupied a couple of the former upstairs hotel rooms, and Gary remembers playing in their quarters as a child and thinking, “It would be wonderful to live up here … like living in a castle.”

While not exactly a secret (a sign hanging from the ceiling points in the direction of the “Keller Hotel”), accessing the door requires Gary to move a portable wall of paint sample cards. Gary and his brother Dick converted the upstairs into a museum in preparation for the 2002 Strasburg centenary. (If you want to see the museum, an appointment is advised.)

Once upstairs, visitors enter a time warp. Three of the 11 hotel rooms are preserved in their original state with the remaining rooms featuring a variety of period-appropriate reconstructions, including a barbershop and a bank lobby with fixtures from Strasburg’s very first bank. (Gary’s grandfather bought the fixtures after the bank went belly-up during the Depression.) Fittingly, there’s also a display on local musicians, including Mike Dosch, John Schwab, and Lawrence Welk. According to family lore, Welk is said to have played weddings at the hotel and to have been sweet on one of Gary’s aunts.

A preserved hotel room, left, and fixtures from Strasburg’s first bank in the upstairs museum.

The longstanding and tight-knit connections, which exist among the families of this German-Russian community, are evident throughout the tour. Mike Dosch, Gary tells me, is the great-uncle of his niece Kathy Dosch, who has popped upstairs during my tour to say hello. John Schwab’s brother Lawrence was married to Gary’s aunt, Regina Keller. John and Lawrence, who would die tragically in Room 11 during the 1918 Spanish flu, grew up in the Schwab sod house (John would also raise his family there), which is located about six miles northeast of town and open to the public. The widowed Regina would go on to marry another Schwab brother and live in the sod house for a time with him and her in-laws. Two of John Schwab’s sons would marry two sisters, who happened to be Lawrence Welk’s nieces. (In an interesting twist, these two sisters Evelyn and Edna Schwab would sell the Welk Homestead to the State Historical Society in 2015.)

By the way, had I seen the Schwab house? Kathy asks. I had not, and after lunch at the Blue Room bar, I set out past a “road closed” sign at the far end of Main Street (there is no paving from here on out), proceed around two curves, then continue straight until I come to a dilapidated stone house (straight out of a Hitchcock film). From there, I turn left at an intersection and begin the final three miles of the journey down a road buried deep among cornfields.

Despite Kathy’s excellent directions I manage to miss the plywood sign that shouts “Schwab Farm” and only see it after I give up and turn around. The sod house, now with white vinyl siding thanks to a 2010 facelift, is perched on a hill overlooking the road and was built in the late 1800s by the Schwab family, immigrants from the Odessa region of present-day Ukraine. Like the Welk Homestead, it is part of a “Prairie Legacy” Talking Trail, which explores German-Russian heritage across Emmons, Logan, and McIntosh counties. In addition to the sod house, the farm once included a summer kitchen, chicken coop, granary, and barn, but those outbuildings are long gone.

This little sod house, home to generations of Schwabs, offers a glimpse into a bygone era.

I remove the flathead screwdriver, which secures the front door, and step inside, moving tentatively through eerily still rooms filled with old family photographs, vintage furniture, and Catholic iconography. In the living room, an accordion sits on a stand next to a black-and-white television set. Several of John Schwab’s children were also talented musicians who played in a band called the Bubbling Quintet, his daughter Antonia Baumgartner will later tell me when I reach her by phone. Lawrence Welk, she adds, used to ride out to the farm and “ask dad to teach him certain things” on the accordion. Baumgartner, who spearheaded the sod house’s renovation in 1988, furnished the interior to reflect how it looked in the mid-20th century.

The Welk Homestead State Historic site details German-Russian farm life and Lawrence Welk’s early years.

With the late afternoon heat spiraling upward, I carefully replace the screwdriver in the latch, then circle back to the Welk Homestead, where Matt Hodek & the Dakota Dutchmen are about to take to a flatbed trailer stage parked along Baumgartner Lake. (Antonia’s mother was a Baumgartner who grew up near the Welk farm, and Antonia would also marry into the Baumgartner family.) While I wait, I get my North Dakota Passport stamped by a girl at the admissions desk and examine the tiny (by contemporary standards) rooms where Welk spent his childhood in a white farmhouse built of batsa bricks. There, I pick up a button accordion and clumsily attempt a few notes. I snap a picture with a cardboard cutout of the big man himself then head over to the granary, where information panels tell the story of the United States’ “Germans from Russia” and a video recounts Lawrence Welk’s life and career.

Matt Hodek & the Dakota Dutchmen perform at the Welk Homestead State Historic Site earlier this summer.

At last, the music starts. Couples get to their feet. I watch mesmerized as an elderly man in a beige jumpsuit and his prim partner in capris begin to polka, hopping and circling vigorously to the accordion beats. Clearly the heritage of Strasburg is very much alive, nurtured at our state historic site and by the people and communities that surround and sustain it. As I nosh on kuchen, the music’s hypnotic rhythm blissfully transports me–and it’s almost as if no time has passed at all.

The Welk Homestead State Historic Site near Strasburg is open Thursday-Sunday, 10 a.m.-5 p.m. through Sept. 5. On Aug. 28, it will host “Party with the Monarchs” from 1-3 p.m., which will include kite flying and butterfly-related crafts.

The State Historical Society of North Dakota’s Archaeology & Historic Preservation collections consist of over 12 million artifacts that document 13,500 years of human history representing more than 2,500 archaeological sites in North Dakota and the surrounding region. We have stone tools of big game hunters, gardening tools, grinding tools, historic artifacts, game tools, and much more. Among our game artifacts are ice gliders.

Stewart Culin ([1907] 1992), a major game scholar in the field of anthropology, divides Native American games into two groups: games of chance and games of dexterity. Games of chance include dice and other guessing games where the outcome depends on luck. On the other hand, games of dexterity such as a game of shooting a target or sliding a javelin require physical strength and skill. The second group also includes games like foot racing, hoop-and-pole, and ball games that require athletic agility and stamina.

Some of these Native American games were ceremonial in nature (Culin [1907] 1992). These include hunting and warfare games only played by men. Other games were played by men and women for fun and pleasure. Still other games aimed to train and educate children in activities like hunting and warfare, skills needed to be successful adults. The ice glider game was a game of skill and dexterity and was occasionally used for gambling (Nicholson et al. 2017: 121).

The ice glider game was played on a smooth course, usually of ice or snow, with the ice glider thrown into the air and onto the ice surface. Players took turns, and the objective of the game was to see who could throw an ice glider farthest. Most ethnographic accounts indicate boys or young men played the game. Ice gliders were usually made of a bone head with stick-and-feather tails, which assisted the flight of the finished object. Bison, cattle, and deer ribs were used to make ice gliders. While the forward end of the bone often had a blunt or a V-shaped point, its back end was cut square. Some ice gliders also have recognizable decorations. The motifs include geometric designs, crosshatching, incised lines, and other naturalistic and line designs (Majewski 1986).

Both archaeological and ethnographic evidence indicates the game was played by the Mandan, Hidatsa, Arikara and Dakota nations. The earliest presence of ice gliders at Arikara sites is dated to roughly A.D. 1750 (Nicholson et al. 2017: 123). Ice gliders have also been found at early historic Mandan and Hidatsa sites. The presence of ice gliders at a site may indicate a winter occupation and may provide some insight about the recreational activity of people in the distant past (Nicholson et al. 2017).

An ice glider on exhibit in the State Museum’s Innovation Gallery: Early Peoples. SHSND 162

Ice glider bone (no. 17), game basket (no. 16), and gaming pieces (nos. 18-20) from our exhibits in the Innovation Gallery. SHSND 2001.12.223, .199, .271, SHSND 10197, 9978, 1811, 10199, and 158.

Ice gliders and other Native American game artifacts are on display at the State Museum’s Innovation Gallery in Bismarck. In addition to those on exhibit, the Archaeology & Historic Preservation Department has nearly two hundred pieces of complete and partial ice glider artifacts in our collections from different sites including Bone Slider/Ice Glider, Like-A-Fishhook and/or Fort Berthold, Deapolis Village, Greenshield, and the Yanktonai Ice Glider. Of our ice glider artifacts, most come from the Bone Slider/Ice Glider site, which is a documented winter village in Oliver County. A few are decorated and others are pierced and/or decorated. The interpretation of the Bone Slider/Ice Glider site as a winter village is strengthened by Prince Maximilian's observation in May 1833 of a large camp of Yankton Sioux consisting of 300 tents in the neighborhood (Chomko and Wood 1973).

Examples of complete ice glider artifacts from the Bone Slider/Ice Glider site. AHP Accession Number 2001.12

These ice gliders from the Bone Slider/Ice Glider site are decorated with crosshatching and other incisions. AHP Accession Number 2001.12

References

Chomko, S.A., and W.R. Wood. 1973. “Linear Mounds in the Northeastern Plains.” Archaeology in Montana 14, no. 2: 1–19.

Culin, Stewart. (1907) 1992. Games of the North American Indians, Volume 2: Games of skill. Reprint, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press.

Majewski, Teresita. 1986. “Ice Gliders–Introduction.” In Ice Glider 320L110, edited by W. Raymond Wood, 104–8. Sioux Falls: South Dakota Archaeological Society.

Nicholson, B.A., David Meyer, Sylvia Nicholson, and Scott Hamilton. 2003.“The Function of Ice-gliders and Their Distribution in Time and Space Across the Northern Plains and Parklands.” Plains Anthropologist 48 (186): 121–131. https://doi.org/10.1080/2052546.2003.11949300.

Hello! My name is Anna, and I am a history major and theology minor at the University of Mary. I have been living in North Dakota for the past three years and am loving every second of it. Since March 2021 I have worked as a library processing intern at the State Archives. It's an amazing job. As a library processing intern, I have had the chance to take on a range of projects, such as processing journal articles and magazines as they come in, changing call numbers on books, barcoding, scanning, and reshelving map collections.

So far, the map collection project has taken up much of my time here. At first, I didn’t think it would be that fun or interesting—just time consuming! Although certainly time consuming, once I got stuck into the project I realized it was also exciting and interesting. One of my favorite aspects of this project has been handling North Dakota and Dakota Territory maps from the 19th century onward, of which there are many. When I first started working with the map collection, I did not expect to handle maps that were over 100 years old. Each time I pick up one of those maps I wonder about its history, where it came from, where it has been, and what it saw. If only these maps could talk, the stories they would tell!

This map, which was detached from an unidentified atlas, is one of many I have scanned. It has a probable publication date of 1889, the year North and South Dakota became the 39th and 40th states. SHSND SA OCLC06545539

When working with the large map collection, we begin by bringing down a stack of maps that needs to be scanned and entered into the system, typically any maps older than the 1920s. After the maps have been scanned, I crop them in Photoshop, leaving a thin line of black space to frame each map. From there the scanned maps are uploaded into the system, making them digitally preserved for easy access in the future. Then the original maps are placed in large folders and barcoded according to the accession numbers on each of the maps. Once the barcodes are put on the folders, the folders are brought upstairs to be reshelved in their respective places.

I spend a lot of quality time with this computer and scanner.

I may not be a North Dakota native, but I have loved learning more about the Peace Garden State through its maps, the names of current and former towns, and the changing boundaries of its counties. Each map tells a unique story depending on who made the map, when it was made, what materials were used, the purpose of the map, and so on. These various pieces help us to more fully understand the history of the map and the place it represents.

Front and back view of a 1906 map produced by the Williston Land Company. Intended to promote North Dakota to prospective buyers, it is one of a handful of maps this old in our collection with information on both sides. SHSND SA OCLC757386209

I am very lucky to be interning at the State Archives and am grateful to the University of Mary for giving me the tools necessary to take advantage of this opportunity, which has enriched my understanding of my chosen discipline and will no doubt help me in my future career. In addition to learning about maps, I have also become familiar with the system used by the Archives’ library to organize and keep track of books, maps, journal articles, and other items. I was not sure at first what this internship would entail, but I have learned so much from everyone I have encountered at the Archives. When I leave, I will depart with knowledge I will use as I go forward in my life and career.

Back in May 2019, I blogged about my cataloging and organization project at the State Historical Society of North Dakota’s off-site storage facility, Storage East. Much has happened since then, so I want to take you on a tour of what the collections crew has been up to!

In early 2020, we purchased new shelving for the rooms to maximize storage space. Some already had shelves installed, but these were warped and did not meet our needs as far as adaptability. Those shelves were taken down to be replaced with pallet shelving. We also made use of existing plywood, which we cut to the size of the units to create shelves.

The collections team, with the help of muscles from our other State Historical Society coworkers, has been going through Storage East room by room to update the shelving. The process goes a bit like this handy-dandy numbered list:

1. Clear out individual rooms to install shelving. This involves tracking where the artifacts are moved, so we can still find them in their temporary locations.

2. Install shelving. Sometimes our initial plans get changed during the implementation process. Occasionally, whole shelves are eliminated to allow for the retrieval of objects, with enough space between the aisles for people and objects to move safely.

3. Planning the spaces. This is the stage where we get an idea of what types of objects will go into the newly cleared space. For example, because the collection has many trunks, we decided to consolidate them into one room. Then we adjusted the shelving to make sure it would fit all the trunks and other intended objects, and that the space was used as efficiently as possible.

4. Place Ethafoam. Once the shelves are in position, we place a sheet of Ethafoam where the objects will be stored; this ensures there is an acid-free barrier between the objects and the shelf’s wood.

A (mostly) empty room in Storage East, with shelves under construction.

5. Moving in. Now it’s time to move objects onto their new shelving. Paying attention to any condition issues, we inventory each object’s new room and shelf number, so we know exactly where to find it when needed for an exhibition or to show a visitor or researcher. No lost things allowed!

Getting trunks into position with a little overhead help.

6. Celebrate the improved storage organization. The rooms we reorganized have huge improvements in storage capacity. For example, one room went from housing 62 objects to 148. That’s a 138% increase in objects housed for just one room!

Left: Before reorganization.
Right: After we worked our magic.

Not only are we storing more objects in these rooms, but the space is now better organized and the objects are more accessible, making their retrieval both safer and easier (for the objects and collections staff). Wins all around!