If you were to look at a map of the Fort Berthold Indian Reservation with Arikara elders living in White Shield (North Dakota) today, they would tell you where they used to live. They would point to where their houses were, their relatives’ houses, their school, and the berry patches they walked to with their grandmothers. They would point to the churches, roads, and cemeteries, and the gardens they had to weed in the morning before they could play with their friends. They would describe these in astonishing detail. And this would be all the more astonishing because they would be pointing to the middle of the nearly 200-mile-long Lake Sakakawea. Nishu, the home they describe, has been under water since 1954.

Even, even to this day, if I jump in a boat, and I take that boat out on the lake, invariably I will go downriver. Go down the lake. Pretty soon I’ll be circling around and telling my grandkids or my kids, “I used to live right under this water right here.” (Almit Breuer, former Nishu resident)

Map of Fort Berthold communities inundated by the Garrison Reservoir, showing previous river channel and current lake boundaries. (SHSND AHP Files)

Nishu was a 20th-century settlement on the Missouri River, established by the Arikara in the 1890s. It marked an important chapter in Arikara history, in which this Native nation simultaneously grappled with the effects of the U.S. government’s assimilation policies and maintained many ancestral traditions, such as corn agriculture. In the 1950s, they watched as the place they had made their home was slowly swallowed by the newly constructed Garrison Reservoir. Although it is no longer accessible, it continues to be a significant heritage place for Arikara people today.

Project participant and former Nishu resident Mary Bateman (W. Murray)

Very little information about Nishu exists in the written record. Furthermore, the people who remember living there are in their 70s, 80s, and 90s. This created a sense of urgency about documenting Nishu before people’s memories and experiences of it were gone forever. Younger generations have no visual cues for remembering Nishu, because they have only known that area to be a lake. This creates a serious disconnect between generations who have experienced the landscape in completely different ways. Since preserving the physical remnants of this place was not possible, we sought to preserve its intangible history – the memories, knowledge, and experiences of the people who knew it best.

Arikara elders Jerry White, Sr., Rodney Howling Wolf, and Duane Fox look at a map of Nishu. (W. Murray)

In 2014, the State Historical Society collaborated with the Arikara Cultural Center (ACC) in White Shield to conduct an oral history project. The goals were multifold, but the priority was to create a local archive of Nishu memories to benefit the contemporary Arikara community. Namely, we wanted younger generations to have a way to access this chapter of their past in the absence of physical reminders on the landscape. We are grateful to Dorreen Yellow Bird, elder liaison for the Arikara, for her support as she helped us connect with people who used to live in Nishu and the neighboring Elbowoods (also underwater).

Interviewing Joyce Nolan, former Nishu resident. (W. Murray)

Over several months, Dr. Brad Kroupa (ACC) and I interviewed 15 people, most of whom lived in Nishu. Some were either familiar with Nishu or had relatives who had told them stories about Nishu. Thus far, we have collected more than 30 hours of video and audio footage describing life in Nishu. Interviews recount everything from the central role of horses in transportation to the persistence of traditional kinship roles to what it was like receiving initial news about the Garrison Dam development that would destroy their homes. For example, we learned exactly how much kids dreaded having to help their parents weed the garden, the specific ways Arikara women prepared corn, whose father had a beautiful singing voice, the significance of military service in Arikara ceremony, the Nishu school bus route, who accidentally set their grandparents’ barn on fire, whose relatives had knowledge of healing, and what aspects of Nishu life people miss most today (and much more).

What we heard most strongly is that Nishu residents took care of one another. Despite the considerable distance between houses (owing to allotment policy), people visited one another often and unannounced, shared in subsistence labors such as gardening and cattle raising, and were connected by a strong sense of familial responsibility. People’s nostalgia about Nishu was tied to feelings of interdependence and support. Listen to this audio clip from our interview with Magdalen Yellow Bird, talking about the importance of visiting in Nishu.

Arikara Congregational Church in Nishu. SHSND Archives 0041-0260.

Understanding the Nishu experience casts new light on how traumatic the Garrison Dam was for Fort Berthold residents. The Garrison Reservoir split the reservation into five segments. Short visits to relatives on horseback became burdensome, hours-long car rides. The flooding of the most fertile agricultural land meant that corn agriculture–central to Arikara lifeways and identity for centuries– was no longer possible. The relocation also forced the Arikara into participating more fully in a cash economy, which prioritized self-sufficiency and individual property ownership. This undermined the communal aspects of their subsistence traditions and contributed to the partial erosion of the familial connections and obligations that had served to foster a sense of community in Nishu.

Mrs. Sitting Bear (Arikara) gathering corn (date unknown). SHSND Archives 10190-00791.

The Arikara Cultural Center is now using what was learned in the Remembering Nishu project to start community-building and wellness initiatives in White Shield, including the development of a community garden and youth research projects. In a few months these transcripts, audio, and video files will be available for you to review in full at the State Historical Society in Bismarck and the ACC in White Shield. In them, you will discover Nishu’s vital role in Arikara history and find insights into the human experience that extend beyond North Dakota. Through Nishu we understand the complex impacts of landscape loss and the role of tradition in creating healthy communities.

We are grateful to all project participants for being so generous with their time and knowledge, for their commitment to the preservation of Arikara heritage, and their profound concern for the well-being of future generations.

Occasionally, when evaluating farmsteads for historical significance and eligibility for listing on the National Register of Historic Places, even an ordinary farmstead will have a unique or unusual feature. Such is the case in northeast Barnes County, where there are at least two A.C. Ochs Brick & Tile Co. brick silos seen on two separate farmsteads in Noltimier Township. It’s easy to distinguish the silos because the brand name “A.C.O.” is stamped on the exterior, just under the roof. These silos have roofs of domed sheet-metal with a prominent metal ventilator, are accessed by a single door, and have metal ladders that lead to a round opening. They were commonly constructed in the Midwest from approximately 1910 to 1945.

A.C. Ochs Brick & Tile Co. began when Adolph Casimir Ochs, known as “A.C.” Ochs opened the A. C. Ochs Brick and Tile Company in Springfield, Minnesota, in 1891. Ochs and his company began making smooth-face brick in 1910, supplying face brick for many buildings in Minnesota and South Dakota. After World War I, the demand for smooth brick for use as vertical siding increased. Ochs’ company met the demand by opening a plant in Minneapolis, where his brick was used to build several buildings on the University of Minnesota St. Paul and Minneapolis campuses.

When the Great Depression hit, Ochs’ company turned to making brick silos entirely of burnt clay, iron, and cement—completely without wood. Bricks were curved and radial-cut in an angle so the silos were smooth on both the interior and the exterior with few air spaces to retain heat: a unique method of construction for that period. The silos in Barnes County appear to be of this style, constructed after the Great Depression.

A.C.O. silos became common throughout Minnesota and other portions of the Upper Midwest. Ochs’ silos were also built in Wisconsin, Iowa, and the Dakotas, since Ochs hired laborers to construct his silos in other areas where the need arose. It is likely the bricks were transported by rail if the customer was located outside of Minneapolis or Springfield. Advertisements for the A.C.O. silos touted they were as “cheap” as a wood-stave silo but would not rot.

The silos in Barnes County are historically significant as pristine examples of brick silos constructed by the A.C. Ochs Brick & Tile Company. Although the silos were common in Minnesota for three decades, examples of these silos are not prevalent in Barnes County, where many historic-age silos are removed from farmsteads to be replaced by modern steel corrugated grain bins.

Advertisement, date unknown. Source: Minnesota Bricks

A.C.O. silo in Noltimier Township, Barnes County. Photo by Julia Mates/Chelsea Stark, July 20, 2016 SHSND SITS 32BA298

A.C.O. silo in Noltimier Township, Barnes County. Photo by Julia Mates/Chelsea Stark, July 20, 2016 SHSND SITS 32BA299

Sources: Minnesota Bricks, “A.C.O. Silos in Eastern North Dakota,” http:// www.mnbricks.com/aco-silos-in-eastern-north-dakota; The Clay-Worker, Vols. LIX–LX (Indianapolis: T.A. Randall & Co., 1913); City of Springfield: Historic Context Study, Prepared for the City of Springfield, MN, June 11, 2011.

“A strong camp and picket guard were posted for the night—a cold lunch was passed around at nine o'clock, and then some tried to sleep. But soon the night darkened into blackness. Hundreds of wolves, attracted by the scent of blood and of corpses set up a most unearthly howling and yelping, while there gathered and broke over us a thunder storm more grand and terrific than anything I had ever experienced. There was incessant and intensely vivid lightening for nearly an hour, and then came peal and treble peal of heavy continued and incessant thunder which lasted for two hours. A shower, not in drops but in sheets poured for an hour upon our parched camp, till within the corral, in the natural basin around which it was formed, cattle were standing in the morning in two feet of water. The fatigue of the day, the groaning of the wounded, the howling of wolves, the unprecedented storm under such circumstances made this a night in my experience never to be forgotten.”^[1]
James L. Fisk,
Dakota Territory
September 3, 1864

+++++

“To gain a little personal fame he (James L. Fisk) has thrown the train to the south of a route already open & well defined by Gen. Sully under the guidance of the most competent guides, & has been pushing ahead through a rough broken country of which he is utterly ignorant & his engineer often unable to set on his horse from intoxication…. Yet I like him for his good nature covers a great many defects.”^[2]
William L. Larned,
emigrant member of the Fisk expedition,
September 10, 1864

+++++

Hubris, poor planning, and bad luck had followed the emigrant train to this point.

I began this story in my last blog post, [http://blog.statemuseum.nd.gov/blog/troubled-time] and quotes like those above are the reason why I enjoy doing research in the State Archives at the North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum (http://www.history.nd.gov/archives/index.html). Publications sometimes leave out the gritty details and personal anecdotes of the participants in historical events. Additional searching adds context and substance to some of these stories. Personally, I find it fuels the “what ifs” of history.

For instance:

The Fisk emigrant train spent seven days at Fort Rice awaiting and completing passage over the Missouri River aboard the steamboat U.S. Grant. If they had departed Fort Rice even two days later, would they have steered clear of Sitting Bull and his warriors?

Conversely, if the emigrant train had departed Fort Rice a couple of days earlier, would they have been bogged down in the rugged terrain of the Badlands and put at risk of total annihilation by the Hunkpapa (Lakota) warriors?

Sitting Bull was shot in the left hip during the Fisk raid in September 1864, when a band of Hunkpapas attacked the Fisk wagon train. The bullet exited out through the small of his back and was not serious. How would history have changed if Sitting Bull had been killed during the skirmish?

After the siege, survivors from the Fisk emigrant train returned to Fort Rice. Some of the members of the aborted expedition remained at the fort over the winter and beyond. Is it possible that some of those travelers played a part in early Edwinton/Bismarck, Dakota Territory?

On July 28, 1865, Sitting Bull and his warriors attacked Fort Rice. This intense battle, one of the largest in the history of Dakota Territory, may have wiped out the fort if not for the superior weaponry of the “Galvanized Yankees,” the former Confederate prisoners-of-war stationed there. Would this attack have occurred if Sitting Bull had been killed eleven months earlier?

What if??

If you have not yet visited the State Archives, I invite you to do so. I am interested in your thoughts and research into the “what ifs” of the failed 1864 Fisk emigrant expedition.

When most people think of finding fossils, I bet the image that is conjured in their heads is a lone paleontologist wandering through the badlands, stopping once in a while to examine a fragment of rock or bone. Admittedly this is true in most cases. Some of the techniques used to find and collect fossils in the field are over 100 years old and have changed very little. However, with the advent of new technology comes the testing of new techniques.

Finding a large fossil is one thing. Finding a large fossil and being able to see it from space; well, that is something else entirely. A few years ago a visitor came to the North Dakota Heritage Center with tales of a fossil tree so large you could see it with Google Earth. I will admit that at first I was doubtful, but after very quickly navigating to the location on the computer and seeing photos he had taken from the ground, it did indeed turn out to be a fossil tree.

Image captured from Google Earth. The object in the yellow circle is a fossil tree trunk measuring over 100 feet long.

After some quick calculations, we determined the tree to be well over 100 ft. in length. It is broken along its length into 4-6 foot chunks, some of them likely weighing several hundred pounds each.

I study small mammals. Some of the mammals I study are classified as microfossils (fossils smaller than about 1 cm). Some of these microfossil teeth can be less than 1 mm in length!

One fossil tooth from the Brule Formation of North Dakota. This image was captured with a microscope camera. The scale bar represents one millimeter in length.

As you can imagine, finding fossils that small is no easy task. Finding these microfossils starts with a process called screenwashing. This process involves washing collected rock and dirt through wooden boxes with brass screen making up the bottom of the box. The screen openings are smaller than the openings found on most window screens. What remains on the screen after the washing process is dried. Normally it is at this point that the dried material would be picked under a microscope looking for fossils. However, we have added an additional step to the process. Some fossils from certain rock formations will glow under the application of ultraviolet light. The Oligocene age Brule Formation found in North Dakota is one such rock layer. The fossil bone from the Brule Formation glows a bright white, and the teeth from the Brule Formation actually glow a bright orange. Fortunately nothing else found in this formation reacts to the ultraviolet light, just the fossils. This makes finding microfossils from the Brule Formation very easy. Before the washed and dried material is picked under a microscope using white light, we spread the material out on a dark surface and use ultraviolet flashlights to find the teeth.

Washed and dried Brule Formation matrix spread out and ready for picking. The left image was captured under normal, white light. The right image is the exact same spot, under ultraviolet light. Note the brightly glowing tooth in the right image. Can you spot that same tooth in the left image?

This works amazingly well. We have recovered several dozen microfossil teeth using this technique.

Mural discovered in building 607 at Grand Forks Air Force Base in October 2016. Photograph by Johnathan Campbell.

In early October 2016 Former Governors’ Mansion Supervisor Johnathan Campbell (serving as photographer) and I traveled to Grand Forks Air Force Base to record an interior wall mural discovered when some drywall was removed. Candido Veras signed the mural in 1975, when he was an airman at the base. The mural was about three feet by ten feet, but about 30% of it was destroyed when a door was installed through the wall more than 30 years ago. Candido Veras was an airman who painted murals and paintings during his time in the Air Force in the latter half of the 1970s. According to Bryan Booker, 319th Air Base Wing historian, the artist was a regular airman who served for four years and, after separating from the Air Force, continued to pursue his love of art. The University of Texas at San Antonio holds records on Candido Veras, and reports that in 1976 two more murals were painted in the Human Relation Office and the Strategic Air Command Center, also at Grand Forks Air Force Base. There is no record at the base of these murals. It isn’t uncommon that murals go unrecorded. Only in the last couple of decades have murals been documented at the Air Force Base.

The building where the remaining mural is painted has been on the base since 1959 and was renovated multiple times. During the current renovation to construct more office space for the 69th Reconnaissance Group, this artwork was revealed. It is painted on hollow concrete blocks in a small windowless room adjacent to a large hangar space.

Generally murals were and continue to be a part of military life, most painted by people of average artistic ability. Previous murals were recorded at the base, at Oscar Zero, (Ronald Reagan Minuteman Missile State Historic Site) and at other military installations in North Dakota and beyond. Murals previously uncovered and documented by the Air Force in North Dakota generally depict mascots, important military events, or reflections on the Cold War. This mural has a different message, emphasizing airmen working together in harmony. Candido Veras’s later works retained many of the vibrant colors inspired by his early years growing up in the Dominican Republic, but became more abstract and modernist. Mr. Veras died in 2009 in San Antonio, Texas.

We hope more information will become available on his works in North Dakota.

Think about how much you use your cell phone or computer in a day. You create countless photographs, text messages, emails, Facebook posts, blog posts, tweets—and the list goes on. In the past, these types of daily documentation, such as letters, photographs, journaling, and commentary on daily life, were harder to create, and more permanent. Do you have a plan of what to do with the huge amount of historic data you create every day? Or will it just be lost with time? Are we entering an age where our future generations will not be able to research our current lifestyle, culture, or heritage?

Currently, archivists are trying to establish standards, policies, and methods to preserve the massive amount of data the world is rapidly creating. Not only is the amount of data an issue; so is the pace at which technologies are changing. At the North Dakota State Archives, we are working to preserve digital records created by state agencies, organizations, and private donors.

That’s where I come in!

This is me, Lindsay Schott, electronic records archivist for the state of North Dakota!

As the first electronic records archivist for the state of North Dakota, I am responsible for ensuring that digital files created by state agencies are preserved and accessible for future generations.

I am currently working on creating policies and procedures to establish a digital archives repository. This repository will allow me to track file formats and add descriptive terms to the files.  These descriptive terms, will allow researchers to search and access digital records online through a portal in the future.

This is a glimpse of just a few varieties of the external media on which state agency electronic records are stored.

The State Archives has accepted manuscripts and other types of records since its inception. With the advent of new technology, that includes electronic files. That’s what I work with, the “new” technology, whether it is a file saved on some object from the 1970s or ’80s, or whether it is a current mp3 or pdf file. On any given day, I could find a collection housed in the State Archives that contains 3.5-inch diskettes, 5.25-inch floppy disks, CDs, DVDs, or other types of external storage devices. Or, a state agency can contact me with digital files that have reached their retention period, and we work to transfer these files through a file sharing site. These collections contain the digital photographs, documents, videos, audio files, websites, emails, and more created by North Dakota state agencies. As you can imagine, many different file types have been used when creating electronic records. Just think about the all of the different programs and versions of software that have been around since the beginning of computers. For instance, Apple generally updates the iOS on iPhones a few times in one year. Imagine having to track these updates for all types of records! It is my job to ingest these electronic records into a trusted digital repository.

Progression of records throughout the history of North Dakota. Left: Record books in storage at the Stark County Courthouse in Dickinson, 1937 (30573-00119, detail). Middle: Box of floppy disks waiting to be ingested into the digital repository. These were created in the early 1990s. Right: A screenshot of digital records in the digital repository. Now, instead of taking up shelf space, records take up lots of server space! Click image for larger view.

Keeping up with technology is just one of the many obstacles that electronic records archivists face. Format and media obsolescence are two very large hurdles standing in the way of digital record preservation. As the technologies change, file formats, storage media, software, and hardware go out of style and use. Electronic record archivists must make sure that these obsolescent file formats are migrated to a file format that is better suited for preservation. That is one of the reasons why we have many older computers around the State Archives. In order to ensure we can get the files off old storage devices, we need to have these older computers, because they can read older storage media. For example, computers sold today don’t have a 5.25-inch floppy drive. So, we have maintained several computer towers from the time when these floppy drives were a necessity. In the future, we may have to keep several towers that have USB ports to make certain we have the capability to read USB drives.

These are a few of the old computers we have at the State Archives to ensure we are able to access old external media.

It is crucial that electronic records archivists take action immediately. If we don’t, the information found in the files may not remain available due to the rapid, changing pace of technology.