When you mention to most people that you are doing inventory, their eyes glaze over and they start thinking of their summer vacation. I am one of those odd museum people, when I think of doing inventory, I think of all the interesting possibilities the inventory might bring and “treasures” I might find. The museum collections are over 100 years in the making and contain more than 74,000 objects (with more added daily). Keeping track of these objects can be a daunting task, so we routinely conduct inventories. Many times we just check off a box saying any given object is in the right place. But every so often, something fun happens—we find a forgotten historical treasure.

One of the most exciting discoveries was the silver filigree lamp shades with pink fringe from the USS North Dakota silver service (SHSND 6068.40-53). Once thought to be missing, they are now on view in the Hall of Honors in the lower level of the North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum.

Lamp shade, USS North Dakota silver service (6068.40)

That find, however, was recently eclipsed by the discovery of World War I–era surgical dressings made by the American Red Cross.

In preparation for our new WWI exhibits, I did an inventory of all the items donated by the American Red Cross. We have a collection of refugee clothing for men, women, and children, and we have “comfort” items made for the soldiers including knitted socks and a sleeveless sweater. We even have some hospital garments such as bed shirts (what we would now call hospital gowns) and a surgical gown, mask, and cap. These garments were made as models by the regional American Red Cross headquarters and then sent to chapters throughout the state. Along with the model garments, the local chapters received the cut pieces and directions for sewing. While we don’t have the pieces, we do have the model garments and many of the directions. But, I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed we didn’t have any of the iconic bandage rolls or surgical dressings I was reading about while researching the clothing items.

Digging deeper into our records, I found an entry for a “bandage” that came into our collections almost 20 years after the Red Cross garments. So with great anticipation and the help of a wonderful volunteer, we went looking for the bandage. We found a box with the artifact number we wanted, but inside we found only odd textile items and no obvious bandage roll near the top. Disappointed, I figured we might as well pull the whole box and clear up any discrepancies inside.

The first step was to search our paper files—but there was no file in the filing cabinet. Next, I checked the old card file. Prior to a computer database each artifact was given a 3x5” card with the artifact’s information, which hasn’t been updated since the 1980s. This card was the key to the treasure chest. It read, “Bandages, Red Cross, miscellaneous used during war. Received from Red Cross; October 15, 1937.” Instead of one bandage, we found 21 assorted bandages and surgical dressings that had never been properly cataloged. It was exciting as we found each piece nicely labeled: irrigation pad, gauze sponge, gauze wipe, shot bag, pneumonia jacket, and—YES!—a roll of gauze bandage! There is even a triangular bandage, a “many tailed” bandage, a “scultetus” bandage (a bandage used to protect, immobilize, compress, or support a wound or injured body part), and, one of my favorites, a “Paper-backed Irrigation Pad” (SHSND 5991.5).

The paper-backed irrigation pad was a wealth of information. The original catalog card had the phrase “used during war,” and the donation date of 1937 suggested these might be WWI-era items. They could have been from the Spanish-American War or the Mexican Border Conflict, as North Dakota troops served in both conflicts. As the name suggests, the paper-backed irrigation pad has paper as a backing material. But this is not just any kind of paper—it is a newspaper! Lucky for us, it was the front page of the Fargo Forum. While the full date was missing, enough of the headlines and one obituary made it possible for our State Archives team to find the date: Wednesday, June 5, 1918. YES, these are WWI-era items! We also learned the pad was made in or near Fargo, North Dakota, sometime between June 6 and November 11, 1918, but probably closer to the June date. Historic treasure indeed.

Front and back of Paper-backed Irrigation Pad (5991.5)

Seeing all of these medical dressings makes me grateful for modern medicine and sterile conditions, and it makes me appreciate even more the homefront efforts that went into the Great War. The patriotic fervor that swept the nation had young and old men and women knitting scarves, sweaters, and socks for soldiers. But most of all I appreciate the legions of women who worked tirelessly to make hundreds of thousands of items to meet the needs of soldiers and refugees throughout Europe.

Since Halloween is just around the corner, I thought I’d share three mysterious—and a little bit creepy folktales that have been shared about the Former Governors' Mansion State Historic Site, which housed 20 chief executives between 1893 and 1960. Folktales are one of those things that both confound and delight historic house interpreters when their visitors engage them with a statement or question that they believe with all their heart to be true.

1. Buried in the basement?
Having a group of 4th graders ask you “Who was the little girl who is buried in the mansion basement?” can be rather off-putting the first time it is asked, but having multiple groups of 4th graders from different schools, and over the course of years, ask is downright confounding. The easy answer is to tell them the truth – no one is buried in the basement, and then we move on. The harder part is to research and find the source, and give the next group of children asking the question a historically accurate answer.

A little research into the deaths of governors’ children turns up the most likely explanation of how this question formed. Governor Briggs’ daughter Estella died of tuberculosis on his inauguration day in 1898. She is definitely not buried in the basement, but in Howard Lake, Minnesota. After I started explaining to the groups what the basis of this folklore likely was, the question of the little girl buried in the basement stopped being asked after a couple years. Sometimes the truth isn’t as engaging as a juicy rumor, but we try to interpret history as accurately as possible.

2. Murder at the Mansion?
Last spring a new bit of folklore popped up at the mansion. A number of children starting asking about how many governors had been killed while living in the mansion. The answer was, of course, none. Two governors died while in office, but murder was not the culprit.

I asked one young boy where he heard that. Like most folklore stories, he heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend. After pondering this for a while it occurred to me that I was the likely source of the tale. In fall of 2016 Marilyn Snyder with the Bismarck Historical Society supplied me with a copy of the Bismarck Police Log from May 9, 1927, which described a “shooting” at the mansion. Certainly an interesting historical tidbit, and it solved a riddle about what appeared to be a bullet hole in an inner pane of glass in the south parlor of the mansion. How did the story go from being an obscure historical tidbit to becoming folklore? I shared the police record on Facebook. Not long after, friends were telling friends about the murder in the mansion. It will be interesting to see how long this bit of folklore stays around.

The Bismarck Police Log, May 9, 1927

3. Paranormal activity in the parlor?
A variety of ghost stories and paranormal activities are commonly talked about by visitors at the mansion. Quite a few historic homes have similar stories. From curtains moving to footsteps on the stairs to doors mysteriously closing by themselves, these mansion stories have been publicized locally and on national websites. Over the years numerous paranormal groups have tested the mansion for paranormal activity at night and for the most part all have found nothing, except for one group that detected an electromagnetic signature that traveled at a slow walking pace back and forth from the piano in the parlor to the back entry. Searching in the basement turned up no plumbing, electrical lines, or other item that could produce such a phenomenon, and later attempts to locate it all failed.

There are of course, many additional folktales concerning the mansion--some come up on a regular basis, and some only get mentioned during a certain spooky holiday. Most of the stories have some basis in fact, but that fact is often less intriguing than the folktale. Whether true or not, these types of myths and folklore help spark curiosity and create interesting research and learning opportunities for both the visitor and for me.

1. Hollywood, as always, gets it wrong.
This may come as a surprise to our faithful readers, but movies do not accurately reflect real life — especially when it comes to museum work. Our dinosaurs and dioramas do not come alive at night and terrorize the security guards. Well, maybe they do, but the security guards aren’t telling. The archaeologists do not get to take epic adventures in which they both defeat Nazis and recover priceless artifacts, but I’m sure they wish they could when they’re filling out yet another site form.

2. Fashionable socks are a must.
There are a surprising number of times when you go shoeless working at a museum. Exhibits need regular attention such as changing a light bulb, dusting, placing an object, or removing a candy wrapper that someone threw in. Often this means physically climbing into a display space, but to safeguard the objects and keep from tracking in debris, the shoes have to come off. And you don’t want to be the person with mismatched socks.

3. Some days it’s just gross.
One day an agencywide email was sent that said, roughly, “Whose thawed bison head is in the freezer!?” We have a chest freezer for keeping specimens for the collections or killing bugs that sometimes hitch a ride on artifacts. The frozen bison head would have been okay. Except the freezer broke.

Exhibit-quality bird poop.

4. We use skills we never knew we needed.
Just a few of the stranger jobs the exhibit team has been tasked with include: assembling a windmill indoors, assessing the accuracy of fake bird poop, changing the tire on a Ford Model T, moving an entire mastodon skeleton 500 feet, debating the level of gore acceptable in a digital dinosaur battle, and researching where to purchase buffalo scent.

5. We get to work with AMAZING things.
Taken as a whole, museum collections are impressive —their size, scope, and age —and to some extent it becomes routine, working with these objects daily. However, there are pieces that give goosebumps — like one of the original Folios of Shakespeare’s plays, a thousands-of- years-old Phoenician tablet, or the broken gun carried by a follower of Sitting Bull — and it’s these that make you think, “I am SO lucky to work in a museum.”

Even when there’s an oozing bison skull in the freezer.

Archaeologists have a solid understanding of Mandan lifeways at Huff Indian Village State Historic Site, primarily as a result of extensive excavations in 1960 as part of the Smithsonian Institution River Basin Surveys¹ and additional geophysical and archaeological testing in 1999². But Huff Village was known to archaeologists prior to this time—in fact, it was first recorded as early as 1904 by Ernst R. Steinbrueck, who worked as a field officer for the State Historical Society. Under the direction of Orin G. Libby, Steinbrueck created a list of sites and produced location maps for villages along the Missouri River. One such map in the archaeology collections is dated December 22, 1906, and titled “Map showing approximate location of the ancient Indian village sites found since 1902” (Figure 1). Some familiar sites appear on this map. On the east side of the river, Double Ditch (No. 40) is visible. Fort Lincoln (No. 2) can be seen on the west side of the river. What we now call “Huff Village” was known by Steinbrueck and his contemporaries as “Arikara Fort,” and is No. 19 on this map.

E.R. Steinbrueck’s 1906 map of Missouri River villages. (State Historical Society of North Dakota, Archaeology and Historic Preservation Division flat files)

Archaeological knowledge changes over time, and in Steinbrueck’s era, archaeologists thought they had identified an Arikara village enclosed by a fortification wall—hence, Arikara Fort. We’ve known for some time that Huff is in fact a Mandan village, based on ceramics and other artifacts. But that isn’t the only thing that has changed: in 1908, Steinbrueck drew a map of “Arikara Fort” with 182 lodges inside the fortification ditch (Figure 2). Eleven of the houses are rectangular, and the rest are circular. Compare that map with one drawn by archaeologist W. Raymond Wood in 1960 (Figure 3). This map shows 102 houses, 101 of which are rectangular. On Wood’s map, there is only one square lodge with rounded corners, which could be interpreted as a circular lodge.

E.R. Steinbrueck’s 1908 map of “Arikara Fort.” (State Historical Society of North Dakota, Archaeology and Historic Preservation Division flat files)

W. Raymond Wood’s 1960 map of Huff Village. (Wood 1967: Map 4)

Wood assembled published and unpublished maps of Huff Village to show the variations in village interpretation over time (Figure 4). We now know that among the Mandan, long-rectangular houses preceded round earthlodges. This is evident at Huff, which dates to about AD 1450: the single round lodge shows that people were experimenting with a new form of housing.

W. Raymond Wood’s comparative maps of Huff Village, 1905-1960. (Wood 1967: Map 3)

So why did early maps of Huff Village show circular lodges? Wood (1967:28) offers the following explanation:

This resume of the history of Huff cartography is particularly interesting in revealing the extent to which preconceptions effect the perception of field data. The first long-rectangular house excavated in North Dakota was House 5 at Huff, dug by Thad. Hecker in 1938-39. Prior to that time there was no hint in the literature of villages composed solely of long-rectangular houses. The local historic earth lodges were circular and, despite the large number of sites available of long-rectangular houses, field workers persisted in “seeing” the circular houses they expected to find.

In other words, people were familiar with the round earthlodges used historically by Mandan Indians and anticipated finding evidence of similar lodges in the archaeological record. This is a form of confirmation bias, or finding results that uphold your existing beliefs. It’s something that archaeologists—and all scientists—must be aware of in their research. The variation in the number of recorded lodges suggests some of the earliest drawings were impressionistic and not created using survey equipment. Improvement in mapping technology has allowed for extensive geophysical survey (including magnetic and electrical resistance surveys) to be performed at Huff. This helps archaeologists “see” underground and pinpoint individual features for excavation (Figure 5).

Comparison of (a) house plans drafted by Wood (1967) and (b) houses identified by magnetic survey. (Ahler and Kvamme 2000: Figure 18)

So what comes next in this second century of research at Huff? Researchers from the University of Texas at Dallas Geospatial Analytics and Innovative Applications Research Lab are using drone technology to take aerial photographs that can be georeferenced down to a centimeter. This precise form of mapping will improve our perception of microtopography (or small landscape features), as well as provide state-of-the-art figures for publication and outreach. There’s still much to learn from this exceptionally-preserved site. Take some time to visit Huff this fall, and observe the lodges and fortification ditch yourself.

¹ Wood, W. Raymond. 1967. An Interpretation of Mandan Culture History. River Basin Surveys Papers 39. Smithsonian Institution, Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 198. Washington, D.C.
² Ahler, Stanley A., and Kenneth L. Kvamme. 2000. New Geophysical Research and Archaeological Investigations at Huff Village State Historic Site (32MO11), Morton County, North Dakota. Research Contribution 26. PaleoCultural Research Group, Flagstaff, AZ. Submitted to the State Historical Society of North Dakota, Bismarck.

Chronicling America homepage

Chronicling America is an incredible online newspaper resource available for the public through the Library of Congress. Imagine this: there is a free-to-use database where you can search big city and little town newspapers within the United States. You go to the database, select a year range (1922 and earlier only at this point), select a location, type in a key word—and get results that can be viewed, enlarged, reduced, printed, and saved.

Curious about World War I? Here are some headlines. Searching for info about prison breaks, weather, government officials? Just type in your criteria and search—Chronicling America is OCR/word-searchable, which is so great! Our State Archives newspapers on microfilm are not indexed, so typically, if you want to find some information about your family, you have to search day by day, looking at each page. Not so with Chronicling America. You can just type in a name, and see what results come up!

Since 2011, we have received four grants from the National Endowment for the Humanities allowing us to add over 400,000 pages of newspapers to the site. Since not all newspapers can be included, we have selected papers from all over the state containing a lot of local news coverage. This includes papers such as the Ward County Independent, a weekly newspaper; the Bismarck Tribune, a daily; and newspapers from Grand Forks, Devils Lake, Steele, Williston, and other areas.

Some of the ND newspapers available on Chronicling America

One caveat to keep in mind; not all news was published in the newspaper. Chronicling America, or newspapers in general, are not a catch-all. Using this site can be a great, easy way to start a search, though, and can sometimes bring up results you might not expect to see.

For example: I received a search request about three years ago from a woman who was looking for a relative who had passed away in, she said, about December of 1902. We looked in multiple papers without any luck. A search of our link to the Vital Records death index did not show the individual dying within a ten-year span—not uncommon, especially around 1900 and through even the 1920s. There were a lot of errors and delays in reporting deaths in those early years. So I had to reply that we were unable to find anything.

Info about one of the papers available, the Bismarck Daily Tribune, on Chronicling America

Usually, that would be the end of it. However, I kept her request, and just recently, I came across it again. Just for fun, just to double check, I typed the name into Chronicling America, hoping I might find the relative’s name in a gossip column, visiting the city.

Instead, I found a death notice—a year later than the information she had provided!

It turned out, the gentleman in question had died in 1903, not 1902, and passed away in a different city. I was able to respond back, three years later, with an actual obituary. It always is disappointing to us if we can’t provide any information for these requests, so believe me when I say I was very excited to write to her again—possibly as excited as she was to receive the information!

As amazing as this all is, however, it is not possible at this time to put all of our newspapers online. This is something we are asked about frequently, and I do want to clarify that we are not planning to digitize our entire newspaper collection. The amount of time, space, and funding necessary for a venture like this is staggering. We are the official repository for newspapers from across the state, which means that newspaper titles from each of the 53 counties in the state are supposed to be sent to us on a daily or weekly basis. Considering that there is more than one newspaper for some counties, as well as the fact that we keep papers from the past—well, this adds up. Our rolls of microfilm number more than 17,500 already, and the majority of these rolls are microfilmed newspapers. One roll can hold about two years of weekly newspapers and about one month of daily newspapers.

A view of the front page of one ND newspaper, the Ward County Independent, from November 4, 1915, p1 on Chronicling America

I asked one of our staff about the more technical details for this. (If technical isn’t your jam, skip to the next paragraph!) If we were to scan each of our newspaper pages at 300 dpi jpg, which is an average and sometimes even larger image than you might get from a camera phone, we would need around 3.5 Petabytes, with no end in sight to more needed storage. Do you know what a petabyte is? It is approximately 1024 terabytes, or a million gigabytes of storage. That is incredibly huge. And that isn’t even providing for a high resolution image. That image would likely not be able to be enlarged or used in a display; it would be too small. That is also without making these newspapers OCR/word searchable, by the way.

So for now, I would encourage everyone to check out the incredible and amazing superhero of newspaper websites—Chronicling America can be a lifesaver in the world of newspaper searches.

SHSND 10200-00069. ND photographer Nancy Hendrickson’s photo of this bunny makes it look easy to be a superhero—but it’s not!

As America is in the midst of the centennial of our involvement in World War I, historians and the larger nation reflect on a conflict that, at the time, was regarded as “the war to end all wars,” but is largely overshadowed by World War II just over two decades later. Our involvement in World War I, while brief compared to European nations that had sacrificed the cream of their manhood since August 1914, is no less significant.

In North Dakota, approximately twenty-eight thousand individuals served in the war and 474 were killed.¹ With war raging in Europe and farmers here at home attempting to fill the food gap left by European farmland being turned into battlefields, what insights did the North Dakota servicemen offer in their letters home?

The State Archives is blessed to have several outstanding collections that have materials related to World War I on a variety of subjects, from nurses to post-war work with the nascent League of Nations. With several collections to choose from, my focus turned to letters written by soldiers from North Dakota and what these writings had to share.

Photo from Howard R. Huston Papers (Photo #10895-1-3-28), State Archives. Caption reads, “Here was an old German kitchen. When company ‘M’ 59th Inf. chased the Germans away from it they had to leave in such a hurry that they left pots of stew still boiling on the stove. We had eaten nothing for about a day and a half and their contribution was very gratefully received. Enough food was captured in this place to feed 500 men for two days.”

The Howard R. Huston Papers is one collection that stands out. Huston was born in the state and grew up in McHenry County, ND. He attended the University of North Dakota, and enlisted in 1917. While serving with the 4th Infantry Division in France, he saw combat and was wounded. After the war, he worked for the League of Nations, an organization that was meant to model the later United Nations and serve as a forum for the world’s nations to come together and solve disputes through peaceful means.

Letter from Howard R. Huston to his parents in which he references meeting Charlie Chaplin.

In one of his early letters home (before shipping overseas) Huston mentioned meeting and dining with legendary entertainer Charlie Chaplin and running into several fellow North Dakotans where he was stationed. In addition, he expressed his love of the work he was doing in the army at the time, further noting that being a soldier in wartime is “no more dangerous than any other work.”² It is important to note that Huston had yet to experience combat himself, and such optimism and exuberance is a common thread in soldiers’ writings prior to their arrival at the front.

Photo from Howard R. Huston Papers (Photo #10895-1-3-10), State Archives. Caption reads, “This was a vast field in July 1918 and into it my company advanced on the 19th. The machine gun bullets were literally sprayed over it by the Germans and on the spot where I stand Pop Crane was killed.”

Another great collection that houses letters and other writings from soldiers in World War I is the War History Commission, which gathered information related to the service of persons from all counties in North Dakota. Anton Peterson, who served with Company D, 18th Infantry Regiment, which was assigned to the renowned First Infantry Division, described marching to the trenches carrying “two blankets, one suit of underwear, our toilet articles, reserve rations, and one hundred rounds of amunition [sic].” He noted that the weather was rainy, the “roads were sleet,” and that “some of the boys had to be taken in on the ambulance.”³

While in the trenches of France, some common themes emerged from soldiers’ writings, usually revolving around comforts of home, awarding of medals and decorations, and anxieties over combat. In a letter home to family dated April 7, 1918, Corporal G. McClain Johnson of Company L, 164th Infantry Regiment, which was the North Dakota National Guard, discussed the impatience at waiting for the word to go into combat, as well as his impatience at getting word from home. He also wrote, “Whenever the notion strikes you to send something over this way remember that these are three articles which are acceptable over all else. They are—magazines & newspapers, candy, and Tobacco.”⁴ Though the writings avoid specific details related to combat operations, the fears some soldiers had were hidden within the words. It is important to note that letters home faced screening by military censors to avoid disclosing sensitive information related to operations, and that soldiers may well have felt uneasy sharing such experiences with those who would not understand, having never served.

The end of the fighting was a time of adulation for the soldiers, but also a time of reflection on what they had been through. Oscar O. Haugen wrote to his family roughly two weeks after the armistice took effect on November 11, 1918, describing his feelings at the end of the fighting. He wrote

No more wondering if the next shell got your number on it or not. No more wondering what time of the night you have to get up and out to the lines and do some small Job of some kind.
Quite nice to be able to go to bed at night and know you can sleep all night. As it is about five months now we have been on the go almost day and night.⁵

Haugen also wrote a letter to his father in Norwegian as well, reflecting the diverse nature of the American army during the war, which included a significant number of immigrants and second-generation Americans who still retained strong cultural and linguistic connections to their ancestral homelands.⁶

Overall, the writings reflect the diversity of the American soldier from North Dakota in World War I, while reflecting the commonality of the shared experience of serving in the greatest war the world had known to that time. The men expressed their feelings of service, the concerns with coming battle, missing home and family, desire for letters and gifts from loved ones, and some of the unique experiences they encountered during their time in the military. The writings of World War I veterans are a window into a long ago time that must not be forgotten, as the war and their service in it continues to shape the world.

¹“World War I,” North Dakota Department of Veteran Affairs, accessed August 18, 2017, http://www.nd.gov/veterans/heroes/conflicts/world-war-i.
²Howard R. Huston to parents (original letter), undated, Howard R. Huston Papers, box 1, folder 1, North Dakota State Archives, Bismarck.
³Anton Peterson, The Diary of Cpl. Anton Peterson, 18th Inf. Co. D, 1st Div. A.E.F., War History Commission Records, box 2, folder 11, North Dakota State Archives, Bismarck.
⁴G. McLain Johnson to parents and Eva, 7 April 1918, War History Commission Records, box 2, folder 20, North Dakota State Archives, Bismarck.
⁵Oscar O. Haugen to family, 25 November 1918, War History Commission Records, box 2, folder 14, North Dakota State Archives, Bismarck.
⁶Oscar O. Haugen to father (written in Norwegian), 22 December 1918, War History Commission Records, box 2, folder 14, North Dakota State Archives, Bismarck.