The State Historical Society of North Dakota owns and preserves 57 state historic sites. Some are well-known staffed sites with buildings and interpreters, while others are lesser known remote sites. For many people, the Cannonball Stage Station probably falls into the latter category. Located about 15 miles southeast of Carson or 18 miles southwest of Raleigh in Grant County, the site is situated off 53rd Avenue SW and is bound by the Cannonball River and plowed farmland. During summer 2019, two new historic interpretive panels were added to the site.

This site overview displays the wooden sign erected by the State Historical Society in 1974 and the two new interpretive signs added in August 2019.

Historic features at the site consist of three depressions marking buildings from the Cannonball Stage Station while it was in operation from 1877 to 1880.

Still photo from drone footage taken in October 2018 by Research Archaeologist Timothy Reed. Historic features are identified with arrows.

The arrows at the top mark two dugouts believed to be from a log building and another unknown structure. The arrow at the bottom identifies the rectangular outline of the barn. Modern features include a sheltered picnic area. After gold was confirmed in the Black Hills by Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer’s Army Expedition of 1874 and a treaty opened the area to Euro-Americans, a road was desired to move people and supplies to the area. Bismarck was a favored rail end, and the Bismarck to Deadwood Stage Trail was established to move people, mail, and freight to the Black Hills.

The Northwestern Express, Stage, and Transportation Company and several other independent freighters began operating out of Bismarck in 1877. On average, the journey to Deadwood lasted around 40 hours and encompassed 200 miles. Stages ran from weekly, to biweekly, to triweekly, and eventually daily. The fare was around $23.

The Cannonball Stage Station was the fifth stop along the Bismarck to Deadwood Trail. Several stations on the trail were equipped to be overnight stops and provided meals, but most stations were just places for stage drivers to get a fresh team of horses and for passengers to stretch their legs. The Cannonball Stage Station was presumably one of the latter. While stage stations were typically crude structures, they offered respite for weary travelers and a break from the weather, close quarters, and other elements faced on the journey.

The Weller stage stop, located in McLean County, Dakota Territory, ca. 1883–89, is an example of a standard stage station at the time. As it was bad etiquette to rest your head on another passenger, travelers had to sleep upright in the passenger coaches. While most stage stations offered only a dirt floor to rest on, breaks were presumably a welcome interruption in travel, regardless of amenities. SHSND SA A4193-00001

Passenger coaches on the Bismarck-Deadwood Stage Trail were most often Concord coaches, usually drawn by four horses, or sometimes six for rough terrain. The coaches were constructed for rough travel and built to endure strain. Travel on the Bismarck-Deadwood Stage Trail was generally safe. Dangers included weather, prairie fire, and stage robbery. Outriders and shotgun messengers were employed to ward off “road agents” (bandits) from attacking the stage line after a string of holdups during the summer of 1877. Outriders rode in front and behind the wagon. Shotgun messengers rode beside the driver and were well armed. The term “riding shotgun” was derived from shotgun messengers.

A driver sat at the front of the wagon with his legs braced on the “dashboard.” Mail and light baggage were usually carried on top and held in place by an iron roof rail and ropes. Heavier baggage was usually carried on the rear. Some passengers, at their own risk, rode on top of the coach. Historian Harold E. Briggs records passengers describing a trip on a stagecoach as “not unlike the swell of the ocean.” SHSND SA 0097-46

The Bismarck-Deadwood operated commercially until 1880. The trail and the Cannonball Stage Station were abandoned when railroad expansion reached Pierre. Ruts from the wagon trains can still be seen in some places, including at the Bismarck-Deadwood Stage Trail Historic Marker site east of Flasher. For another view of the Cannonball Stage Station site, check out Timothy Reed’s past blog that includes drone footage filmed in October 2018.

If you ever catch me walking up and down the halls while shaking, twisting, turning, or just generally moving around an object in my hands — congratulations, you’ve met paleontology’s human gyroscope! Paleontology doesn’t own an actual gyroscope — a spinning device that can be rotated many different directions — so we resort to human hands instead. What would this be used for?

When making a casting, a gyroscope can be used to save material by making that casting hollow. Rather than filling up a mold with plastic (a waste of expensive materials), just the outer wall of the mold can be coated. This also gives us the added bonus of being able to measure out weights (steel pellets) to add to the plastic to achieve the weight of the original object. If weights are added, then it is extremely important to keep that gyroscopic motion going, or else you end up with a weeble-wobble object that’s heavy on one end (because all the weight sinks down while the plastic hardens).

Becky mixing glue. Mixing mixing mixing!

Here I am mixing up a batch of glue (butvar-76 plastic dissolved in acetone). You can see the fume hood (window) behind me to make sure all the potential chemical fumes go far, far away. Mixing up a thin version (consolidant) is easy — just pour into our magnetic mixer and away we go! Mixing glue, however, is tricky, and aerobic. You have to KEEP MOVING the bottles for a good hour, or else the not-quite-dissolved plastic sinks down to the bottom of the bottle and sits as an immoveable clump. Then, the next time someone tries to squeeze glue from the jug, they get a squirt of very liquid acetone — while all the glue stays in the bottle.

Some of our behind-the-scenes work is glamorous. Fossils! Prep work! Artwork! Other times, my work is just the necessary tasks that have to happen to make sure those glamorous projects keep going.

In 2017 we received Christmas ornaments from the North Dakota Former Governor’s Residence. The ornaments were gifts from local chapters of the Germans from Russia Heritage Society of North Dakota, Three Crowns Swedish American Association, Sons of Norway, and the Ukrainian Cultural Institute. Starting in 1985, different ethnic-themed Christmas trees were decorated at the residence as each year another group donated ornaments. I have mostly English ancestry and I am not a native North Dakotan, so I was a bit confused by some of the ornaments. A dala horse, stave church, or rosemaled coffeepot with “God Jul” (Merry Christmas) I could understand.

Scandinavian stave church, dala horse, and coffeepot ornaments (SHSND 2017.78.28, 2017.78.2, 2017.78.29)

But what is a tomte, and why were they on the tree? What was up with goat- and pig-shaped ornaments? Why would the Ukrainians put a spider’s web on the tree, or the Norwegians a stabbur (storehouse)? These just didn’t make sense to me, until I did my homework.

Scandinavian stabbur and tomte ornaments (SHSND 2017.78.30, 2017.78.10)

The tomte and the stabbur are related. The Swedes (tomte) and Norwegians (nisse) have similar stories of a small creature with a long white beard wearing a brightly colored conical cap living in the storehouse, or stabbur, on a farm. If the farmer and his family treated the tomte well, it protected the farm and the items stored in the stabbur. If they were bad farmers or were not good to the tomte, it would pull small pranks or even ruin the farm as punishment. Every Christmas Eve, a bowl of sweet porridge or porridge with butter was left for the tomte to keep it happy. Now the tomte figure and stabbur made sense.

I am familiar with camels and sheep, even a donkey or reindeer, on Christmas trees but had never heard of pigs, goats, or spiders. I found out that in Scandinavian countries the Yule Goat might help deliver presents or could be ridden by Santa Claus instead of a sleigh. This idea can be traced back to before Christianity, when it was thought the Norse god Thor had a chariot pulled by two goats. It makes sense how the story of a Norse god with his goats could have been reimagined to be Santa Claus and a goat.

Scandinavian goat ornaments (SHSND 2017.78.13, 2017.78.11)

The pig is a little more complicated. In Germany, marzipan pigs are often gifted as signs of good luck for the new year. In Scandinavia, pork is an important part of the Christmas feast. It is thought that this goes back to the Old Norse religion, where the boar Saerimnir was killed and eaten every night in Valhalla, and sacrifices to the god Freyr were made for a good new year. These stories were combined and reimagined with the introduction of Christianity to become the tradition it is today. This background gave me an understanding of why there is a pig on the tree.

Scandinavian pig ornaments (SHSND 2017.78.1, 2017.78.24)

I found the spider’s web to be a lovely story. According to Ukrainian folklore, a poor family had a Christmas tree, but they had no money to decorate it. The children went to bed sad on Christmas Eve. Early the next morning, the children woke to find the tree covered in cobwebs. When the first rays of sunlight touched the spider’s webs, they turned into silver and gold, and the family was never poor again. Supposedly, this is the origin of tinsel on the Christmas tree. Also, in many European countries, spiders are thought to bring luck, and to destroy a spider’s web before the spider is safely out of the way is bad luck.

Ukrainian spiderweb ornament (SHSND 2017.78.20)

In doing a little research, I learned a lot about Christmas traditions in different cultures and now have a greater appreciation for the diverse Christmas traditions of my adopted state. If you are in Bismarck, stop by the ND Heritage Center & State Museum through Jan. 2, 2020, to view these ornaments on our Community Tree.

This small barn still features typical elements from its construction in 1936: the sliding barn door and the small, centered loft door with a fixed, four-pane window.

In 1934 families of lignite coal miners west of Minot at Burlington faced a bleak future. The Depression was grinding into its fourth year, employment in the coal mines was slack, and people were losing hope. The lignite coal mines never offered much employment, just a few months in the winter. Now the local lignite mines faced stiff competition from out-of-state coal mines that had harder coal that burned hotter, offered at about the cost of local lignite coal thanks to cheaper railroad transportation.¹

Similar grim conditions were everywhere at that time, and the federal solution was to funnel funds to states, as state and local governments, as well as private and religious charities, had traditionally supported people facing hard times. A nonprofit group, the North Dakota Rural Rehabilitation Corporation (NDRRC), received about $100,000 to solve the destitute conditions of about 40 families by providing irrigated land, a house, a small barn, a henhouse, and a privy.

The NDRRC incorporated in 1934, and by late 1935 had purchased 640 acres for irrigable land, pasture, and home sites. It planned a dam on the Des Lacs River to provide gravity-fed irrigation water, and contracted to build about 35 sets comprising a house, barn, henhouse, and privy.² It appears that five families left the area or otherwise did not participate in the program.

The general idea was that the families would work cooperatively to market cash crops such as strawberries, raspberries, and seed carrots to local outlets near Minot. They could also raise hens and gather eggs, and the small barn could easily house a cow and calf as well as agricultural supplies and tools. They rented to own and paid $25 to $35 a month for a few acres of land, shared pasturage, and the house, barn, henhouse, and privy. By the early 1960s the project had reclaimed the $100,000 through rent, 40 percent of the hay crop, and 25 percent of the grain crops.³ The Burlington Homes Project was closely connected to Judge A. M. Christenson, who donated many hours to advance the project’s success.

This Minimal Tradition home has a basement and five rooms, including space for two bedrooms upstairs. The brick chimney, slightly offset door, sets of windows flanking the front door, two windows down, and one window in the apex of the gable end are features found in the Burlington Homes houses. Originally the homes had red cedar shingles, a small shed roof above the front door, and were heated with coal furnaces. From Burlington Centennial, p. 94.

A sturdy but small henhouse with a people door on the gable end. The tiny ventilator and ridge cap are original features of the henhouses.

The architectural firm Van Horn and Ritterbush provided specifications for these small buildings, which included high-quality materials such as fir structural members and red cedar siding, and conservative building practices like 12-inch on-center spacing for the ceiling joists in the small barns. The applicant families apparently had some say in the house design, since some have elevated basements, and some had rough-in plumbing initially while others did not.

The electrician was instructed to provide rough-in electrical wiring and detailed instructions to homeowners on how to wire light fixtures and electrical switches.⁴ One house, recently remodeled, had the outdoor water pump just outside the front door, which provided all the water for domestic purposes, at least initially. The specifications mentioned that the applicant families were to provide their own water well and trenching for the concrete privy vault.

Today the 1.5-story Minimal Traditional homes, small barns, henhouses, and at least one privy still dot the landscape along North and South Project Road just west of Burlington. Many of the homes have been remodeled, but the barns and henhouses are a tangible reminder of difficult times and creative solutions to improve a whole community. In the 1950s some of the lots were offered on a rent-to-own basis to veterans with disabilities, and eventually all of them transferred to private ownership.

Well-preserved barn at TC Landscaping in Burlington, still useful after more than 60 years.

¹ Burlington Centennial, 1883–1983 (self-pub., 1983), 92; “A Brief History: National Association of Rural Rehabilitation Corporations,” accessed Sept. 12, 2019, http://www.ruralrehab.org/briefhistory.html.

² Burlington Centennial, 90; Steven Martens, “Federal Relief Construction in North Dakota 1931–1945,” accessed Sept. 12, 2019, https://www.history.nd.gov/hp/historiccontexts.html.

³ Burlington Centennial, 90. For further background information, see Gudmund Leonard Dalstad, History of the North Dakota Rural Rehabilitation Corporation (Bismarck, ND: self-pub., 1996).

⁴ Specifications for the Burlington Homes Project, 3rd group of buildings, Van Horn Ritterbush Company Collection, box 6, file 47000107, State Archives, State Historical Society of North Dakota, Bismarck.

I love working in the Archives — but I know that our collections don’t appeal to children and young adults in the traditional way. We don’t have exhibits or spaces made for participation like in our attached State Museum. We are interactive, yes — but we have a research factor that is necessary to discover the gems in our holdings.

So when the younger age demographic wanders into the Archives, it does not surprise me to see them turn and walk back out. Consisting mainly of unique papers and photos, digital files, and books, the Archives aren’t cut out for a clientele of babies or toddlers.

However, we do interact with older children, and lately the number of our younger researchers has increased. Sometimes they wander in with parents doing research. Sometimes they are brought in to listen to an oral history or to assist an older family member with computer use. Sometimes, they are here for an event — like Future Farmers of America, or National History Day — and they find us while waiting to present or participate. Sometimes, they still turn and run, but they also occasionally get interested in what we are and what we have. It’s really exciting to watch this happen.

This image shows a classroom from Pierce County, approximately 1898. Times have changed! SHSND 10844-00108

Many of our younger patrons come during classroom visits. They get a behind-the-scenes tour, learn how to use our resources, and learn how to do research in specific collections. We’ve provided quite a few of these opportunities for high school groups — but also for their younger compatriots. This is so much fun, but so different in how we approach our discussion. Typically, our first approach is to explain what an Archives is and what its purpose is. What do we collect? What don’t we collect? How are we similar to and different from the museum collections?

I’ve given many memorable tours to and helped provide research for younger patrons. One year, I provided a behind-the-scenes tour to a mixed-age group from a one-room school in the western portion of the state. Their ages ranged from about 7 to 12. I had a group of middle school boys who job-shadowed several of us in the Archives. I’ve had various tours with groups of high schoolers — including a group that came in and got a taste of research in the Reading Room, led by one of my own past high school teachers!

Sometimes I show them how to use microfilm and help them learn how to look up big news events (World Wars I and II, September 11, the 1966 blizzard), or help them to look up something of personal importance, such as their own birth announcement or a family marriage announcement.

Seeing something such as this headline from 1930 would certainly be of interest to kids who wonder what Christmas was like when their grandparents were little.

Sometimes I help them get set up with viewing photo images in our Reading Room. Searching by topic is of great interest to them, and they respond positively to viewing a unique, captured moment of the past.

A little more than a year ago, we had multiple groups of fourth graders come to the State Historical Society to do research for school. We met about five times with various teachers and students. They got a tour of the Reading Room and learned how to look up our collections. Then we provided them with some collections that the teachers had requested ahead of time, as well as some general information files we had on various topics of interest that they were researching. They looked at photo collections, manuscript collections, general information files, books, and newspaper clippings on microfilm and online, all related to different topics — including steamboats, the city of Bismarck, and railroads. They selected and photographed or copied items that informed them about this history, which they shared with their class and used for their projects. At the same time, they worked with our Archaeology & Historic Preservation division and visited a local state historic site. While not all of the kids went to all of the locations of interest, they worked jointly on a project that all of the research went toward. It was great to see the kids get into their topics of study. They were so excited about what they found — it did an archivist’s heart good!

A thank you note I was sent after one of our job shadowing experiences. I have it hanging up in my office!

These kids and young adults will grow up to become our future patrons, and it is important that they know where to go for research, and what is available to them. In fact, it may help them in their school work — and it may help them with many other tasks.

We love to see the variation in our researchers and believe strongly in educating future researchers as to the importance of all of our history. If you would like to discuss scheduling a class trip or options for bringing youth to the State Archives, please contact us!

On a snowy day in February 2008, the mummified hadrosaur Dakota arrived at the North Dakota Heritage Center in Bismarck without fanfare. It arrived in two large blocks and a few smaller packages. It had been trucked all the way from the NASA lab in southern California, where it had been CAT scanned.

We had to rent the largest forklift we could find in Bismarck to move the largest block (the body block) from the truck into the building. Despite this block weighing in excess of two tons, it was moved safely and without incident.

Dakota being moved into the ND Heritage Center in 2008. The largest forklift we could rent in Bismarck had to be used to move the largest block of Dakota, the body block.

Dakota was then ushered down a long hallway into the paleontology lab, where paleontologists and specialists spent years removing hundreds of pounds of rock from the block encasing the never-before-seen dinosaur skin. A few years later, as work on the ND Heritage Center expansion began, Dakota was moved to a temporary home to keep it out of harm’s way. It retraced its path back down the same hallway it had travelled just a few years prior to a secondary lab next to the loading dock, where it had originally entered the building.

Over the next year, even more rock was removed from the large body block while we waited for the time to be right to move Dakota once again. That time came during summer 2013. Dakota travelled from its temporary home in the secondary paleo lab, once again down the same hallway.

Moving Dakota in 2013. This trip would take the block upstairs and into the hallway for exhibit.

This time, it was only to the freight elevator, a few short feet from where it once sat for nearly five years while specialists chipped away at rock, exposing fossilized skin. After a quick trip up the elevator, it was slowly moved toward its home in the Corridor of History outside the State Museum’s Adaptation Gallery: Geologic Time.

Getting the final placement of Dakota for exhibit correct. This was done during the final touches on the ND Heritage Center expansion.

View of Dakota on exhibit from 2013 to 2019.

For the next six years Dakota sat on exhibit where tens of thousands of visitors a year gazed upon its exposed dinosaur skin, 66 million years in the making.

Our goal is to help the public best understand how important and rare Dakota is. Because of the skin preservation, Dakota has taught and is teaching us a great deal about dinosaurs we didn’t previously know. In order to better educate the public, we needed to revamp the Dakota exhibit. That means the larger body block needed to move . . . again. Many changes are happening to the Dakota exhibit, the largest of which has been the removal of the body block from display.

Hauling Dakota down the ND Heritage Center & State Museum hallway toward the freight elevator. Wheels were permanently attached to Dakota to make it possible to haul with the forklift.

In late October 2019, the large body block was removed from exhibit and carefully wheeled down to the North Dakota State Fossil Collection room in the ND Heritage Center & State Museum lower level.

Dakota coming out of the freight elevator, on its way toward the paleontology lab and collections.

The last leg of Dakota’s journey was down this long hallway and into the paleontology lab.

The tail block, arm, and foot pieces will be moved back upstairs into a newly revamped exhibit that will be unveiled in the coming months.

Please come and visit us in spring 2020 and see all the changes to the Dakota exhibit.