This photo set loose a chain of thoughts about exhibits at the Courthouse that are about to become reality.

As I write this, the beautiful Stutsman County Courthouse State Historic Site in Jamestown is only partially furnished. But this photo, taken by my one-time colleague Guinn Hinman, caused me to see the place in a whole new light. She concentrated some of the historic paperwork, office equipment, and books in one room to stage this historic vignette. Don’t you want to step into that room? You just know you’d be immersed in another time. It makes you want to walk from room to room and see the different tools of an auditor, recorder, treasurer, sheriff, clerk of court. There would be typewriters, ballot boxes, mechanical calculators, seal presses, globes, fountain pens, prison keys and handcuffs, gavels, and robes.

Then I reflected on how badly voters, myself included, need to better understand these jobs. Several of them are elected positions. Do most of us know enough about the work of a county auditor or treasurer to make an informed vote?

Marion Bond, acting superintendent of schools in Slope County Courthouse, 1918. Historic photos prove that North Dakota courthouses were not just workplaces for men. Even before passage of the 19th Amendment, women could vote in school elections in North Dakota, and many women were elected as superintendents of public instruction. SHSND SA 00392-000176

Thinking along these lines, what if the Courthouse could become a beautiful, immersive exhibit, where every room illustrates different aspects of local government and citizenship? The rooms and everyday objects of a historic courthouse would illustrate the Bill of Rights (jury room, warrants, newspapers), the expansion of civil rights over time (ballot boxes, secret ballots), government accountability (auditor’s office, treasurer’s office), the protection of private property (deeds and wills), law enforcement (sheriff’s office, jail), the role of public education in a democracy (superintendent of schools), and on and on. Indeed, if you had set out to make the most engaging museum about citizenship imaginable, could you possibly do better than this?

Office interior in McHenry County Courthouse, March 1906. Archival photos like this are helping us find historically accurate objects. SHSND SA 00226-000104

Naturally, this made me wonder what other museums, historic sites, or interpretive centers focused on citizenship are out there. I found some that address becoming a citizen, like Ellis Island. I found several that focus on aspects of citizenship like civil rights or military service. But much to my surprise, I couldn’t find one about being a citizen writ large. What rights do citizens in America have? What responsibilities? I found websites and even one or two exhibits, but not a single complete interpretive facility about being a citizen. If I’ve missed something, please let me know! But even if these sites exist, clearly there’s a need out there for more.

So when I learned that a grant was available through Jamestown Tourism to create unique local experiences that would draw people to the city, I knew we had to apply! The 1883 Courthouse Committee, who played a key role in saving the Courthouse and continue raising money for its ongoing restoration, were excited about this, too. As a group that cares deeply about both the Courthouse and community involvement, it was a natural fit. We were delighted when we heard that we got the grant.

A vintage Remington typewriter. Early technology like this is cool again. Why not use it to create memorable exhibit experiences?

Visitors to historic sites tend to come as groups — couples, families with children, school groups, friends. We want this exhibit to support fun, meaningful interactions among them. There will be functional devices like candlestick telephones, typewriters, mechanical calculators, and surveyors’ equipment. Visitors can cast votes on issues from early North Dakota history. They can type their answer to a thought-provoking question on a Remington typewriter, then post it to the wall for other visitors to consider and add to the conversation. There will be games for small children and a research library for the curious. You can see what we’ve done when we reopen for the season next Memorial Day weekend!

“Jamestown may well be proud of her court house for no better or more beautiful one was ever erected in all the land,” wrote the Jamestown Weekly Alert on July 6, 1883. More than an office building, the Courthouse reflected the pride Stutsman County citizens felt in the government they helped establish.

The Courthouse is a beautiful place, and a powerful one. You can feel it when you’re in the building. This is the monument that a founding generation built to democracy. This was 1883, after all, when many residents of Jamestown had been born in other countries as the subjects of hereditary monarchs. Many could remember having no say in taxation, war, or education. Where they came from, the highest hill around was frequently crested with a castle or palace for the ruler. But in Jamestown, they covered the highest hill with a palace for the citizens, the true rulers in America. This Courthouse was a celebration of American citizenship. I hope this exhibit is a fitting tribute to their legacy.

Pumpkins seem to be everywhere this time of year — jack-o’-lanterns in October, pies in November, and flavored lattes in coffee shops all the way through the new year. What we call pumpkins in the United States are squash. And while the current pumpkin-flavored options might be new and trendy, squash are not new to North Dakota.

The Mandan, Hidatsa, and Arikara people living along the Missouri River have grown squash for a very long time. The northern plains are not the easiest place to grow things — winters are long and cold while summers are usually short, hot, and dry. But Native gardeners developed and grew squash that survive in this climate. Traditional kinds of squash come in many shapes, sizes, and colors.

Replicas of traditional varieties of squashes grown on the northern plains, left to right: Omaha pumpkin, Arikara winter squash, Mandan-Arikara green and white squash (SHSND 841.2, 37, 22). These are on exhibit in the State Museum’s Innovation Gallery.

Many of these squashes are still grown today, like these Arikara winter squashes.

A winter variety of Arikara squash I grew in my garden this year

Traditionally, women grew squash in large gardens. Squash was an important food crop along with corn, beans, and sunflowers.

Two women and a child processing squash together — detail from the cyclorama of Double Ditch Indian Village in the State Museum’s Innovation Gallery. (Original art by Rob Evans)

Some squash was eaten fresh. Dried squash was used in soups, stews, and other dishes. Squash was cooked many ways — boiled or steamed in a pot, roasted in the ashes of a fire, or boiled with other ingredients like squash blossoms, fat, beans, or cornmeal. Squash seeds could be boiled, parched, or roasted. Squash blossoms were also used in dishes either fresh or dried.

A lot of squash was prepared for winter food. In these photos, Owl Woman shows how squash was cut and prepared for the winter.

Owl Woman demonstrates four steps for squash preparation. First, slice the squash into rings using a squash knife. (Photo by Gilbert Wilson, SHSND SA 0086-0332)

Second, after the squash are sliced, began stringing the slices on a spit. (Photo by Gilbert Wilson, SHSND SA 0086-0340)

Third, finish stringing the squash slices. (Photo by Gilbert Wilson, SHSND SA 0086-0339)

Finally, hang the squashes on a rack to dry. (Photo by Gilbert Wilson, SHSND SA 0086-0326)

The squashes were sliced with squash knives typically made from bison scapulae (shoulder blades).

A bison scapula squash knife fragment from Larson Village (32BL9). (SHSND AHP 2013A.19, F26, south half).

Squash were used for other purposes too. Some squash seeds were saved to plant the next year.

Squash seeds from Like-A-Fishhook Village (32ML2). (SHSND AHP 12003.258)

Squash leaves could be used as disposable spoons. At harvest time young girls would sometimes pick out squashes to use as dolls.

In honor of Veterans Day, I decided to highlight a military recent acquisition to the museum collection.

Radar bomb scoring sites were developed during World War II, by the Army Airforce Tactical Center, to more accurately bomb at night and in poor weather. The Strategic Air Command, established in 1946, controlled most of the US nuclear weapons until after the Cold War. The SAC supervised these radar bomb scoring sites to improve accuracy through training and practice. The 1st Radar Bomb Scoring Group’s mission was to provide the best training, which included simulated unguided bomb drops, and comprehensive evaluation of Strategic Air Command’s aircrews.

Staff and equipment for the Radar Bomb Scoring site (RBS), located off 43rd Street in north Bismarck, arrived from Marrakesh Africa in 1958. The building site was designated Detachment 10 and later redesignated as Detachment 14. A radio antenna is now located near the former site. An average of 80 to 90 air force personnel occupied the site at a time. They scored the bombing accuracy and countermeasure capability of the B-52 bombers out of Minot AFB and the B-58s from Ellsworth AFB in South Dakota.

Road sign to Detachment 14 in north Bismarck for an open house in September 1981.

Aerial view of Detachment 14 taken in the 1970s.

John Ringland made the radar site model in April 1975 to honor Col. Alvin E. Prothero upon his retirement from the US Air Force. Prothero was commander of 1 Combat Evaluation Group (1CEVG) from July 1, 1971, to April 25, 1975. Ringland was stationed at 1CEVG headquarters in Barksdale AFB in Louisiana from 1966 to 1975. Col. Prothero wanted the radar site model to remain at the 1CEVG headquarters at Barksdale Air Force Base for display in the office as a visual example of a radar site. Eventually it was displayed at the Barksdale Air Force Museum and then returned to 1CEVG for display before being given back to Ringland.

2019.00011 Model of a bomber radar scoring site, similar to that of Detachment 14 located in Bismarck. When plugged in, the plane rotates above the building and the radar rotates to track the plane. The motors running the plane and radar were removed from a plotting board used to track B-52s at Barksdale AFB. It is 13inches high (not including the legs), 24 inches deep, and 31 inches wide.

Our donor, John Ringland, was stationed at the Bismarck Radar Bomb Scoring (RBS) site three times throughout his Air Force career of 23 years. Ringland’s first assignment to the Bismarck RBS was in May 1965. He returned from 1975 to 1980, and again from 1983 to 1986, when the Bismarck site closed and moved to Forsyth, Montana. Ringland retired from the Air Force as a senior master sergeant in 1987.

2019.00048. John Ringland donated his Air Force uniform including the jacket, shirt, tie, pants, cap, socks, and shoes.

Thank you to those who served.

In the late 1840s a recent Scottish emigrant changed careers quite by accident. Unfulfilled working as an employee of a Chicago barrel-making company, he moved 50 miles north to Dundee Township, Illinois, where he engaged in cooperage as an entrepreneur. While collecting wood for use in his barrel production, he happened upon a clandestine group of men actively involved in a counterfeiting operation. Careful surveillance of the group and the appropriately timed notification of the local sheriff began the transformation of Allan Pinkerton from barrel maker into the most well-known security expert in the 19th century.

Allan Pinkerton is buried in Graceland Cemetery in Chicago. Part of his epitaph reads, “Devoting himself for a generation to the prevention and detection of crime."

Having a general knowledge of the backgrounds of my fellow security team members, I would suspect our collective stories are more like Allan Pinkerton’s than not. The backgrounds of the security officers include, but are not limited to, security, construction, emergency medicine, military, high tech, consulting, juvenile corrections, and law enforcement. Many divergent paths have brought us to a common place in time with the primary goals of assuring the safety and security of both visitors and staff at the North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum and the protection of its holdings and property. The myriad of experience and training that resides in the collective ethos of the security team produces a synergistic environment of protection for the ND Heritage Center. All my coworkers seem to have a genuine interest in one or more of the different aspects of historical inquiry that is on display or stored at State Museum.

A primary responsibility of the security team is to maintain a presence on the floor of the State Museum during hours open to the public. The time spent on the floor is a critical part of our daily duties. Time spent with “boots on the ground” helps provide customer service and safety in many different ways. Engaging visitors in order to find out a little about their story is an incredibly empowering experience. Pared down to the foundational building blocks, isn’t “story” the bedrock of what we do at the ND Heritage Center? In addition to customer interaction, careful observance of the physical environment of the museum is of prime importance. Promoting conduct appropriate to a cultural institution ensures visitor safety and collection protection. In addition to providing a physical presence in the publicly accessible areas of the ND Heritage Center, security personnel make scheduled inspections of mechanical, telecom, office, artifact, and archival storage areas.

Security has a ubiquitous electronic presence not only here at the ND Heritage Center but also at many state historic sites. The State Historical Society’s security control room is the epicenter of monitoring and responding to alarm and trouble notifications, video systems, and telephone calls. Using a football analogy, when assigned to the control room, it is advantageous to take on a linebacker’s attitude of playing with your “head on a swivel.” As one of the primary points of ingress and egress to the facility, the security control center is a hub of activity during the day. As opposed to encountering the public at the main entrances, we have the privilege of greeting employees and their guests, contractors, and deliveries in addition to issuing badges and the aforementioned system monitoring responsibilities.

Keith monitoring the State Historical Society’s security system.

Understanding the importance of preserving and presenting North Dakota’s place in history is at the heart of why we are here. In his novel Requiem for a Nun, author William Faulkner famously stated, “All of us labor in webs spun long before we were born, webs of heredity and environment, of desire and consequence, of history and eternity. Haunted by wrong turns and roads not taken, we pursue images perceived as new but whose providence dates to the dim dramas of childhood, which are themselves but ripples of consequence echoing down the generations.” For me, it is salient to create a safe and friendly environment for those who choose to listen for those faint echoes.

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. He has been married for 38 years and graduated from the University of Wyoming—Go Pokes!

They say people who ignore history are doomed to repeat it, so pay attention to this blog post! Visit ndstudies.gov or the collections of the ND Heritage Center & State Museum and you may never sleep again.

1. Cough Syrups and Suppressants

People in the 19th century took their coughs pretty seriously. Decades before antibiotics, huge fortunes were made selling “all natural, safe and soothing” cures. Which isn’t to say that these serums weren’t effective at mellowing you out — it’s just that slapping “natural, safe, and soothing” on the label doesn’t mean they weren’t packed with as much booze and narcotics as they could handle. Which they were.

Is there anything it can’t cure? Not according to the label. (SHSND 18061)

This type of massively misleading marketing drove support for a clean food and drug policy in the United States. One of the unsung heroes of the movement, who had crazy ideas like removing morphine and chloroform from baby cough syrup, was Edwin Ladd. A chemistry professor at North Dakota Agricultural College in Fargo, Ladd later brought his expertise to bear as a U.S. senator. Ladd’s passion for ensuring food quality is the reason the box of ground pepper you bought at the grocery store is actually ground pepper and not something like ground coconut shells. I am totally not making that up.

2. Rocks from Space

Most are familiar with a popular theory about the end of the dinosaurs; everything was going fine until a giant rock fell out of space, and then something awful happened to the temperature. But that was so 65 million years ago. Could such a thing happen to humans? It already did. In Siberia. And not to be outdone, North Dakota has its own impressive collection of meteorites.

The best documented case would be the Richardton meteorite. On an otherwise normal day, June 30, 1918, at 9:48 a.m., a meteorite exploded above Richardton and Mott. In total, nearly 220 pounds of rock were collected, and amazingly, nobody was hurt.

This thing traveled a long way to get the North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum. (On loan from University of Minnesota)

To see how unlucky North Dakota can be in the Milky Way, including our impact craters, check out North Dakota Night Sky. And see a piece of the Richardton meteorite on exhibit at the ND Heritage Center & State Museum.

3. Anatomy Furniture

Museums sometimes hold a great deal of furniture for a variety of reasons. And sometimes that reason seems to be documenting all the different ways Lovecraftian horrors can be imposed in a room.

This footstool is made of your Roomba’s nightmares. (SHSND 12774)

Back in the day, furniture that was likely to be conversational as well as stabby was a common theme. This is a huge and surprisingly heavy hat rack that could also impale your pets.

Did not predict the sharp decline of giant hats. Did predict the comeback of the scrunchie. (SHSND 6085)

Make a plan to visit the State Museum on Halloween. You never know what spooky thing you’ll discover.

This stool may cause reproductive harm. Thankfully it is encased on exhibit in the State Museum’s Inspiration Gallery. (SHSND 2010.68.1)

Stay weird out there.

Call me Madame. Actually, you can call me Anna; we reserve the title “Madame” for Medora von Hoffman, the first lady of the Chateau de Morès. She and her husband the Marquis de Morès, Antoine de Vallambrosa, lived here 136 years ago. A lot has changed over the decades, but the Chateau itself has remained steady, guarding its secrets well.

What secrets? I am so glad you asked! At first glance, the Chateau seems like a lovely home tucked on a butte beside the Little Missouri River. The Marquis and Madame strove to be on the cusp of national innovation, and their opulent style is clear. However, throughout the house are hidden messages about their lives that only eagle-eyed guests can find.

Keeping with Madame’s spirit of hospitality, I invite you to come along for a sneak peek at my top five hidden surprises at the Chateau!

1. Fresh Air
On hot summer days, Madame could be found in her office planning anything from menus to hunting trips. But when the heat rose, she needed fresh air. Because of social boundaries, a lady could not simply open her door to allow the breeze to flow. Instead, she had to protect her modesty. Coming to the rescue, the Marquis had small windows built at the top of Madame’s office and bedroom walls that allowed fresh air into her rooms without compromising her privacy.

The small windows at the top of the frame, shown here from the Chateau porch, lead to Madame’s bedroom and office.

2. Talking in Code
Madame and the Marquis tried to embrace the western frontier while keeping pace with eastern society. To that end, the main level of the house has several distinct areas: the dining and living rooms, the homeowners’ private quarters, and servants’ areas. Each room is connected by a hallway that circles the entire first floor. Each door in the hall is equipped with faux-stained glass that allows light to shine through while maintaining privacy. And, these doors talked in code. If the doors were open, servants knew they were welcome to pass through. If closed, they should refrain from entering.

View of the servants’ corridor in the dining room. This door is shut, so you know what that means . . . no servants can pass through!

3. Baby, It’s Cold Outside
This fireplace is impressive. Measuring five feet deep, it could put out some heat on a cold night. Did you know this is the only fireplace in the entire Chateau? Based on an unfortunate claim, the Marquis believed the climate in the Badlands was mild and one fireplace would keep the cold at bay. This was wrong, but some years the family still managed to stay as late as December before leaving to enjoy a milder European winter.

This fireplace was the centerpiece for guests in the Chateau who gathered in the living room for entertainment. Can’t you imagine settling on the settee and reading a good book?

4. Richie Rich
My favorite clue, stashed among the wares of the hunting room, is one bag of tobacco. This seemingly ordinary purchase is a huge hint about the Marquis! In the 19th century, tobacco was just beginning to gain in mass popularity, and southern states like North Carolina had already proven to produce some of the highest quality plug tobacco in the nation. The Marquis used his wealth to ship it across the continent to North Dakota, showing just how much he was willing to spend on luxuries.

Originally from Germany, the Marburg brothers moved to North Carolina and went into business with J.B. Duke and the American Tobacco Company. If the name “Duke” sounds familiar, Duke University was named after J.B.’s father.

5. Lost in Time
Several decades ago, a collection of beautiful watercolor paintings were gifted to the State Historical Society. The artist was none other than Madame herself. Among her impressions of the Badlands and international landscapes was one small painting of the Chateau. This is the most valuable to us, because it is the only known image of the Chateau completed in color. Thanks to Madame we now know the authentic colors to paint the house.

Today, the Chateau is painted to look like Madame’s watercolor version.

The next time you visit the Chateau, be sure to keep an eye out for more clues! You never know what history lies hidden in plain sight.