Rowena’s founding was driven by both vision and practicality. In July 1888, Thomas Ryan of Dubuque, Iowa, purchased land for a townsite and formally platted it that October into forty-three blocks. He named the town after the heroine of Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe, earning it the nickname “Ivanhoe of Dakota.” This literary reference projected an image of refinement and promise, a common strategy among town founders seeking to attract settlers and investment. Yet Rowena’s location was not chosen for symbolism alone. It was situated within a productive agricultural region and near deposits of Sioux quartzite, a resource that would shape its economic role from the beginning.

Quartzite stone quarrying was central to Rowena’s early development. Ryan established the Minnehaha Granite Company and initiated quarry operations nearby, directly linking the town to the extraction and processing of stone. Sioux quartzite was a durable material used in construction and infrastructure projects throughout eastern South Dakota, making it a valuable commodity in a developing territory. Rowena’s economy therefore extended beyond agriculture. It functioned as both a farming hub and a resource-based settlement, where stone could be processed and transported alongside agricultural goods. The surrounding quartzite formations were not simply part of the landscape; they were a key reason for the town’s existence.

At the same time, Rowena developed the features typical of a small Dakota community. By the late 1880s, it included a depot, hotel, town hall, saloon, livery barn, and post office, indicating a stable and active settlement. These institutions supported both residents and travelers, connecting Rowena to broader regional networks. Daily life followed the rhythms of rural society. Newspaper “personals” from 1889 record visits between neighbors and travel to nearby towns, offering glimpses of a socially connected community. Agricultural reports from the early 1890s describe Split Rock Township as a productive farming area, reinforcing Rowena’s role as a local center for surrounding farms.

Rowena’s importance lay in its position within overlapping economic systems. It served as a point of exchange where agricultural goods could be marketed and supplies obtained, while also benefiting from nearby quarrying operations. As John Andrews notes, the quartzite landscape influenced settlement patterns across eastern South Dakota, tying communities directly to natural resources. Rowena exemplified this relationship. Its growth depended not only on farming but also on its ability to connect local labor and materials to regional markets. However, this dependence also made the town vulnerable to change.

Rowena’s prominence declined over time. Like many small towns, it relied on transportation routes and economic conditions that did not remain constant. As larger towns expanded and infrastructure improved elsewhere, smaller communities often lost their significance. Evidence of Rowena’s decline appears gradually. Newspaper references become less frequent, and a 1904 notice of a chattel mortgage sale suggests financial strain within the community. Rather than disappearing suddenly, Rowena faded as its economic functions were absorbed by more dominant regional centers. Today, Rowena exists primarily through memory. Retrospective accounts describe it as a vanished or transformed town, emphasizing its early promise and eventual decline. The nickname “Ivanhoe of Dakota,” once a symbol of aspiration, now contributes to a sense of nostalgia, reflecting how local histories are often shaped by storytelling as much as by documentation. Historical markers and publications preserve Rowena’s story, allowing it to remain part of the region’s historical consciousness.

The physical landscape reinforces this transition from lived place to remembered space. The quartzite formations near Split Rock River remain, anchoring the area in the same natural conditions that once supported settlement. Fields and open land now occupy the space where buildings once stood, and the quiet of the present contrasts with the activity of the late nineteenth century. Visitors encounter Rowena not as a functioning town, but as a site layered with history.

Rowena’s story reflects a broader pattern in Dakota Territory. Founded in response to opportunity, it grew as both an agricultural and resource-based community, supported by quartzite quarrying and regional trade. Over time, shifting economic and infrastructural conditions led to its decline. Though its physical presence has largely disappeared, Rowena endures through memory, markers, and historical records. Its history illustrates both the ambitions that drove settlement and the impermanence of the towns that emerged from it.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

Over one and a half billion years ago, the last layer of pink quartz sands settled from the shore of an ancient great lake. These sands compressed and were cemented by silica particles over geological time into the Sioux quartzite that outcrops across the plains of Minnehaha County today. Under the surface, a 3,000-foot deep layer of Sioux quartzite stretches from New Ulm, Minnesota, to Mitchell, South Dakota. Sioux quartzite can range in color from white or gray to the most common pink to a deep, rich red produced by varying levels of iron oxide.

Between the layers of heavy concreted quartz sands, red clay was compressed into red Pipestone, also known as “Catlinite,” named after artist George Catlin, who painted Dakota tribal members at the quarry site in 1836, just 50 miles northeast of Sioux Falls. This stone has been sought after and traded for 3,000 years to be carved into ceremonial pipes called C’anunpa by the Lakota Sioux, as well as for jewelry and tablets. Pipestone from this vein has been found in archaeological contexts as far away as New York State. Pipestone has a few qualities that make it so well-suited to its use as a pipe. It can be carved with stone tools almost as easily as wood, thanks to the fine particle structure of the metamorphosed clay. It is also very heat-resistant; most stones would crack when exposed to the heat of burning tobacco, whereas pipestone disperses that heat and expands and contracts uniformly.

As European fur trappers made their way through the northern plains along the Missouri River Basin, they used the Mnihaha as a place to meet, talk, and trade with the Native Americans who lived in the area. “Minnehaha” is the Anglicized version of Dakota words meaning “waterfall,” combining “Mni” (water) and “Yuhaha” (“Curly”) to describe the way water curls as it falls. The word has been mistranslated as "laughing water," most famously in Longfellow’s Poem “The Song of Hiawatha,” though the words for laughter and curling do share an etymological root. This Minnehaha, after which the county is named, is one of the few recognizable and enduring landmarks along the Big Sioux River, which runs through the plains of South Dakota. Around this landmark, the city of Sioux Falls began, with Falls Park at the center.

In the historic structures of Sioux Falls, such as the Old Courthouse building and Old Main building on the Augustana University's campus, Sioux quartzite was used as construction material. The Queen Bee Mill, whose Sioux quartzite foundation can still be seen at Falls Park, was constructed in 1881 next to the Falls under the guidance of Richard F. Pettigrew, a prominent Sioux Fallsian and U.S. Senator. The Mill closed less than two years due to the Pettigrew’s overexaggerated claims of “Wonderful Water Power In Sioux Falls.”

In 1887, the Sioux Falls Granite Company opened four quarries east of Sioux Falls, and the workers settled a community called Ives, which was later renamed East Sioux Falls after a railroad was laid to connect the quarries to Sioux Falls and other large cities. It was later acquired by George H. Perry, who owned the East Sioux Falls Quarry Company. In the early 1900s, concrete replaced quarried stone as the preferred building material. In 1999, a large portion of the land was donated to the county and was converted into the Perry Nature Area for recreation by the public.

From its days as a common meeting place, Minnehaha County has grown around the concept of community and is home to the largest city in South Dakota. The Minnehaha County Historical Society preserves, records, and interprets over 200 historical markers and promotes the work of eleven other historical organizations, such as the Siouxland Heritage Museums which operates two museums free to the public.

For more (including 2 images) view the original article

The Swedona Evangelical Covenant Church today stands as a perennial representation of South Dakota’s immigrant and religious past. Founded and organized by Pastor John E. Wretlof in April 9, 1877, the church emerged for the Swedish immigrant community which sought to continue their religious traditions and preserve their cultural identity. The Swedona Church also exemplifies patterns of immigration of people of Scandinavian origin, especially the Swedes. The church’s local origins began when a group of people from Sweden in the mid 1870s organized and gathered in Lockport, Illinois, and sent N.J. Ronlund to inspect farmland in Minnehaha County. Later, upon Ronlund’s favorable feedback about the land, 33 people left Illinois and claimed homesteads. These people later pushed for having their own church. Henceforth, the Swedona Evangelical Covenant Church was built and a Lutheran congregation was established.

Throughout its history, the Swedona Church has served as more than a place of worship and reverence, it has also acted as a social and civic center where people gathered for mutual support. This was–and arguably still is–particularly important in rural South Dakota where regional isolation makes institutions like the Swedona Church crucial for social life. Moreover, the significance of the church to its community was highlighted during its centennial celebration in 1977. The church celebrated its centennial by organizing a banquet at Walt & Mary Restaurant, featuring Rev. Carl H. Johnson as a guest speaker and Dr. Milton B. Engebretson, who was the president of the Evangelical Covenant Church of America as a guest in the Sunday school and worship service. Comparably, its 140th anniversary in 2017 further demonstrated the church’s enduring legacy and its importance to the local community. A picture of descendants of Swedona Covenant Church’s founding members was shared on the website and for the anniversary, stories and memories were shared and the worship service featured a guest speaker from the Evangelical Covenant Church.

The ethnic profile of South Dakota was changing at the turn of the century. The 1900 census reveals that almost twenty thousand residents of South Dakota had been born in Norway compared to almost nine thousand being born in Sweden. Most of the Swedes immigrated to South Dakota largely due to the 1862 Homestead Act which allowed them to secure land practically free. Over time, the impact of these immigrants has transcended beyond religion, they and their posterity have contributed to agricultural development, they have helped in developing the local economy and lastly, they have made South Dakota culturally more diverse by being one of the Scandinavian groups (besides Norwegian and Danish) to emigrate to South Dakota.

Regardless of the changes in religious participation and the rural population, Swedona Evangelical Covenant Church still remains influential among its community today. A historical marker was dedicated to the church in 2009 which solemnized its founding and its important role in the community. In addition, Dakota News Now and its 2024 coverage of the church is proof that the church holds its place in the region as a religious and historical landmark.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

Despite its battered, uneven appearance, the Iverson bridge stands as a vivid testament to the town’s legacy. Ole B. Iverson, his father Iver, brother Peter, and brother-in-law Andy reached Dakota Territory in 1868, when established roads were nonexistent. Forced to wade or ford across rivers, they arrived from near Decorah, Iowa, joining the earliest settlers in the region. Upon arriving in Split Rock Township In the Dakota Territory, the Iverson family claimed several homesteads along the Big Sioux River, leveraging the local timber, waterpower, wildlife, and fertile soil. In 1868, with towns absent, the Iversons were isolated; their nearest neighbors were soldiers stationed at Fort Dakota near the Falls of the Big Sioux River. After submitting an extensive petition to the government, the Iversons constructed a bridge in the summer of 1878. With the bridge established, its importance was soon realized during the settlement period.

​

Before the bridge’s construction, more travelers braved the river at Iverson Crossing. Notably, this area was originally named Gibraltar for its abundant outcroppings of Sioux quartzite. In January 1871, the territorial legislature appealed to Congress for a bridge over the Big Sioux River "at or near Gibraltar, near where the Sioux Falls and Blue Earth City road crosses." With Ole B. Iverson serving in the legislature, his influence shaped the securement of federal funding.

At times, the river swelled dangerously high, overturning wagons and stranding travelers. The bridge was viewed as essential for incoming settlers. Records confirm that pioneers crossed by horseback, stagecoach, or covered wagon as they moved westward. For many, the road, crossing, and landscape embodied the promise of a brighter future. This increase in activity at the crossing marked the beginning of the bridge’s peak usage era. As quartzite mining surged in East Sioux Falls, traffic on bridges increased. The growing population prompted officials to mark roads and trails for mapping and land planning. During this era, the Iverson name was stripped from both the bridge and county road, replaced by a numerical designation that endured for years. This era of change led to a temporary decline in the bridge's historical recognition, setting the stage for its rediscovery.

In 1999, Split Rock Township petitioned the Minnehaha County Commissioners, who were versed in the area’s past, to initiate a drive to restore the bridge’s original name and apply for National Register status. This designation guarantees routine maintenance and protection as a recognized historic site. The renewed recognition connects directly to the bridge’s enduring legacy today. Iverson Bridge now stands as a historic landmark along a walking path accessible to residents. A marker nearby details its rich history. It remains among the few bridges in the region to withstand both settlement and industrialization. Its story is further enriched by the area’s unique geological history and legislative influences, which played a pivotal role in its early construction.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

In the late nineteenth century, the prairie of southeastern Dakota Territory was full of small settlements that emerged quickly and just as swiftly disappeared. One of these was Ben Clare, a small town founded in 1888 along the expanding line of the Illinois Central Railroad. Like many towns at the time, it was built on dreams and speculation. Its location near the Big Sioux River and the railroad made it seem like the perfect place for farming, trade, and new settlers. For a short time, it looked like it might grow into something bigger. The railroad shaped nearly every aspect of Ben Clare. Towns on the prairie depended on rail lines, and where the tracks were placed often determined which communities survived. Ben Clare became a small center for nearby farmers, where they could ship grain and receive goods from eastern markets. The town had the necessities like stores, a post office, and other everyday services. According to the Argus Leader newspaper, early residents believed it would become an important town in Minnehaha County. Its growth reflected a larger pattern across the northern plains, where towns expanded rapidly due to agriculture, migration, and economic opportunity. Even with this strong start, however, Ben Clare remained small and unstable. Life in Dakota Territory was not easy. Harsh weather, fluctuating markets, and limited infrastructure made survival difficult. A town needed steady growth to last, and Ben Clare never fully achieved it. Nearby towns like Sioux Falls continued to expand and draw away people, business, and resources. Over time, smaller towns like Ben Clare struggled to compete and gradually lost their importance. These struggles were not only economic but also social. In February 1903, a violent incident reported in the Argus Leader showed how tense life could be in a small, isolated community. At the Ben Clare railroad station, a man named Frank Bowern was killed during a dispute. Reports suggest that the conflict escalated quickly into violence, resulting in Bowern’s death. Although detailed records are limited, the incident reflects how quickly disagreements could turn deadly in places with limited law enforcement and close-knit populations. By the early 1900s, it was clear that Ben Clare was declining. As transportation systems changed and larger towns took over regional trade, smaller railroad towns began to lose their purpose. When the Ben Clare post office closed in 1912, it marked a major turning point. Without that connection for communication and business, the town slowly faded away. Buildings were abandoned or reused, and the land returned to farmland. What had once seemed like a promising town became just another ghost town. Later historians viewed Ben Clare as part of a larger pattern across South Dakota. Sources like South Dakota: A Guide to the State and other regional histories show how common it was for towns to rise and fall quickly. More recent studies also emphasize how geography, resources, and economic changes determined whether towns survived. Today, very little remains of Ben Clare. Only traces, such as building foundations, scattered debris, and possible remnants of old roads or rail lines, mark where the town once stood. Although Ben Clare is no longer visible, its story still matters. It shows what life was like in Dakota Territory and how dependent these communities were on larger systems they could not fully control. Ben Clare is not unique, but that’s the point. It represents a broader pattern of towns built on dreams and speculation that ultimately did not last. It’s a reminder of how quickly life can change on the prairie.

For more (including 4 images) view the original article

The beginning of Brandon goes back as far as the late 1870s during a time referred to as the “Dakota Boom,” when settlers moved into the Dakota Territory, which comprised North Dakota and South Dakota, as well as eastern Montana and northern Wyoming. This wave of settler migration was largely in part of the expansion of railroads, which made previously remote land more accessible. Railroads not only transported settlers to the prairies but also allowed farmers to ship their crops to distant eastern markets, making agricultural settlement a more reliable opportunity.

According to studies on South Dakota’s economic development, towns like Brandon emerged along railroads, serving as hubs for trade, supplies, and communication. The establishment of Brandon itself is closely tied to the railroad expansion. Settlers were drawn to the area by fertile land and the promise of new life. The town quickly developed into a small but active community. Early settlers, including individuals such as Gustave Florell, documented in both census records and memorial sources, were the immigrant families who contributed to the town’s growth. Florrell was an early settler who created a homestead overlooking the Big Sioux River. This homestead is now the original site for the town of Brandon, which helped establish what Brandon has turned into today. These settlers brought labor, skills, and cultural traditions that helped shape the community of Brandon into what we know today.

As Brandon grew from 304 people in 1900 to 815 people in 1950, public spaces like parks and recreation became an important part of community life. One of the most significant of these spaces is McHardy Park located near the center of Brandon. McHardy park was created by the city of Brandon over several years. The land was city property that gradually grew with the town. Named after the McHardy family, the park became a spot for social gatherings and public engagement for the locals. Parks in small Midwestern towns like Brandon often serve multiple purposes, they are places for recreation, community events, and town ceremonies. Photographs of McHardy Park show the evolution of the park with the town, reflecting changes to fit the communities needs. Seeing how they both have grown together is something that speaks to the reader showing how time has changed things. McHardy Park was implemented as a town planning strategy in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, where towns wanted a place of recreation near or around them. As communities became more established, residents looked to create public parks that improved quality of life and allowed for natural habitats. In Brandon, the park hosts events such as picnics, celebrations, and gatherings that involve the community. Over time, it has become a recognizable landmark, preserving a sense of Brandon's past even as the town modernizes.

Unlike other bigger cities, Brandon maintained more of a small town character, not growing too fast but having a steady stream of new residents each year. This can be seen through its institutions, including schools, churches, and parks like McHardy Park. Newspaper records from the late twentieth century show that residents continued to document their history, often commemorating local figures and preserving historical sites. The ongoing engagement goes to show how Brandon has kept the history alive by involving the community.

The history of Brandon, South Dakota, goes way back to the expansion of railroads and the settlement of the Great Plains. The town came as part of the Dakota Boom which was shaped by immigrant families and agricultural opportunity. McHardy Park is a central public park that represents the community’s development toward a more natural life. Together, these elements go to show how transportation, settlement, and local power worked together to create a lasting and meaningful community in South Dakota.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

Originally called Wellington Corner, Pumpkin Center began with a general store built by Luther and Anna Gage. The grounds were previously used by Francis Drake where he sold automobiles. In 1931, concrete paving had begun and eventually the first five miles of the newly built highway ran in both directions from the store now known as Pumpkin Center.

Its location was the most favorable. The store “bordered a section-line dirt trail used by horse drawn wagons and buggies and an occasional automobile.” At that time, the highway included an unimproved trail as part of the route and it was named ”Custer Battlefield Highway.” In 1926, it went on to be renamed State Highway 16. Today, this highway is known as Highway 248 and it follows the same pathway as Highway 16. After renovations, auto traffic increased and soon the corner store became a gasoline filling station. In the 1930s, more and more car dealerships, repair shops, and body shops were built which attracted people when they drove by. Not only did it serve as a good place for automobile services, it was a place where visitors could leisurely drink and when the weather was harsh, it served as a shelter. In the following years, the Pumpkin Center included community activities such as softball and baseball tournaments. The store had its own team and for many years this Center hosted many vacationers and hunters.

In the early 1950s, President Dwight Eisenhower supported the idea of interstate highways as a defense measure to quickly move military men and material, and he claimed it would positively impact the postwar economy and job creation. Meanwhile in South Dakota, local leaders had mixed feelings about it. They worried about costs, land use, and whether or not sparsely populated areas needed interstates. Federal funding arrived with the 1956 Interstate Highway Act. The interstate highway system completely transformed South Dakota by improving transportation efficiency, connections of rural communities to markets, tourism of the Black Hills, and boosting business along those routes.

The improved roads encouraged automobile travel which ultimately positively impacted tourism by making spots such as the Badlands National Monument or Mount Rushmore National Memorial more accessible. The more traffic increased, the more motel businesses, gas stations, restaurants, and roadside attractions were booming. With that, more and more of these attractions appeared along the highway to serve travelers. These services clustered in towns, which in turn created a highly based tourist economy. Tourism along the highway was getting very competitive and highly dependent on travelers. Habitants that resided along State Highway 16 constantly promoted parks, landscapes, and recreational opportunities.

Although many towns benefited from this development, others were disregarded especially when the routes changed and when travelers stopped coming by. The construction of highways picked winners and losers: if the community was near the new road, tourism boomed; if the community was farther away, tourism languished.

The construction of highways played a very important role in expanding South Dakota’s economy and community development. The construction of the interstate highways improved transportation in many ways and encouraged tourism which in turn increased roadside businesses. Although they brought opportunities for economic growth, they also created uneven outcomes, helping some while leaving others out. The Pumpkin Center is a pivotal example of how location matters. Once the highlight of automobile travelers, and now disregarded because of new interstate. The last of Pumpkin Center was heard of in late 1993. That year marked the closure of all related enterprises and the dispersal of the communities in that area.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

In 1862, Congress passed the Homestead Act, a piece of legislation that opened up large swathes of public land and made up to 160 acres of land available for the price of a small filing fee to anyone who was willing to live on and work it. As long as an individual lived and farmed there for a certain amount of time (five years at first, then later three years), they would be able to “prove up” their claim and receive legal title to the land. Overall, around 1.6 million people successfully proved up their homesteads. John E. Colton was one of these homesteaders. He arrived in what would soon be known as South Dakota in 1878, and acquired the maximum 160 acres of land. The first Homestead Act was not the last. Throughout the late 19th century and early 20th century, several acts were passed that added to or altered the original act. One such act, coming many years after John Colton’s homesteading days, was the 1909 Enlarged Homestead Act, which raised the maximum amount of acres that could be homesteaded. Another act was the Timber Culture Act, passed in 1873. The Timber Culture Act allowed homesteaders to acquire up to 160 acres of land as long as 40 acres were planted with trees. This act allowed John Colton to obtain another 160 acres of land to add to his farm.  The various homestead acts were not the only way that an aspiring homesteader could acquire land. If one had the money, land could be bought. This is how John Colton added another 160 acres to his farm, bringing the total size of his farm up to 480 acres. The additions showed that quarter section of land as envisioned in the original law was insufficient to meet the needs of farmers in the more arid Great Plains.  John Colton became quite the successful farmer. An Argus Leader newspaper article from 1894 specifically mentions him raising sheep for wool. In 1897, he opened Taopi Creamery with some other farmers. Taopi Creamery got its name from the nearby township of Taopi. Taopi Township was named for the town of Taopi in Minnesota which was where the township’s founder J. B. Goddard was from. The creation of the creamery soon drew in other businesses, including a buttermaker, a blacksmith, a couple of general stores, and a post office. In 1899, John and his wife Paulina platted part of their farm into town blocks, marking the formation of the town of Colton.  Despite the modest business boom in Colton, John Colton knew that the new town would not survive without access to a railroad. Not only would a railroad allow Colton’s population to rapidly grow, it would also be incredibly useful to Colton’s growing business district. Railroads provided access to dry goods and materials that were incredibly useful to growing business and homesteads. It also allowed businesses to ship out their goods to other regions, thus increasing their ability to profit.

With the help of Paul F. Sherman, John Colton began courting railroad companies, trying to convince them to build rails near Colton. One thing to note is that John Colton had been a staunch supporter of the Populist Party since 1891, before the creation of Colton. An important tenant of the Populists was a dislike of railroad companies that cheated farmers by setting unfair freight rates. Despite his political beliefs, John Colton was able to see the importance of gaining a railroad in Colton. Through the selling of land to businesses, he was able to raise enough money to get the South Dakota Central Railroad to build through Colton in 1904, thus securing the future of Colton.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

During the late nineteenth century, South Dakota drew large numbers of European settlers, especially from Norway and Germany, during the period often called the “Great Dakota Boom.” These immigrants established close-knit communities, maintaining language, religion, and traditions from their homelands. Unlike eastern industrial centers that attracted newer waves of immigrants, the largely agricultural economy of the Dakota Territory encouraged chain migration among these earlier groups, reinforcing a distinctly Scandinavian and German cultural presence.

Within this context, Norwegian Lutheran congregations took root across the region. The Norwegian Evangelical Lutheran Congregation of Sioux Falls was formally organized on January 10, 1877, again under the leadership of Rev. Sando. He served as pastor until August 7, 1881, when A. J. Lee assumed responsibility for the congregations at Sioux Falls, Split Rock, and Slide.

The Sioux Falls congregation was incorporated on December 31, 1879, under territorial law, with trustees K. Thompson, C. E. Jousberg, and J. Henjum guiding its early development. Though still small, about fifty members, the group secured land in Sioux Falls and planned for a permanent church, holding services in a Methodist Episcopal building in the meantime. 

Meanwhile, the congregation at St. Paulus moved toward establishing a permanent place of worship of its own. In 1886, a church building was constructed, and by 1894, it was formally dedicated for $1,800, a significant investment for a rural congregation. Yet this early effort faced an unexpected setback: the structure had been built on squatter's land that the congregation did not legally own. As a result, the original church was eventually torn down.

Determined to continue, the congregation rebuilt. A second, larger church, along with a horse stable, was constructed by Albert Anderson on a one-acre parcel donated by Sivert O. Hegge. This new church was dedicated in 1911 and stood as a testament to the persistence and faith of its members.

For decades, St. Paulus served as a spiritual and social center for the surrounding community. Generations were baptized, married, and remembered there. However, as rural populations declined and communities shifted, the congregation gradually diminished. In 1965, after nearly a century of worship and service, the remaining members voted to disband. The church and land were sold at public auction, bringing an end to the institution's own church grounds.

Today, little remains of the physical structure. A cemetery marks the ground where the church once stood, and a memorial honors both the building and the people who sustained it. Though the church itself is gone, its story endures as part of the broader history of immigration, settlement, and faith on the South Dakota frontier.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

In 1879, a crossing at Split Rock Creek near Brandon, South Dakota, became one of the most tragic accidents in local Minnehaha County history. Two related families were traveling by covered carriage between Sioux Falls and Beaver Creek, Minnesota: Ole Thompson, his wife, and their teenage daughter Louisa, and E. K. Lee, his wife, and their nine-month-old son Clarence. They crossed the creek safely on the way out, but after several days of summer rain, the return crossing proved far more dangerous. The river current swept the carriage downstream, and the accident killed Ole Thompson, Mrs. Thompson, Mrs. E. K. Lee, and Clarence. Louisa Thompson and E. K. Lee survived.

Another traveler, George Eells, became an important part of the story. Waiting on the west bank for the creek to subside, he heard Louisa calling for help and entered the water to rescue her. He then returned to the creek and brought Clarence to shore, but the child could not be revived. Although Eells could not prevent the tragedy, his actions saved Louisa and remained one of the most memorable details in later accounts.

The accident took place in a setting where creek crossings were part of everyday travel. Split Rock Creek was a local tributary of the Big Sioux River near Brandon that ran through farmland and shaped movement across the area. In the late nineteenth century, before railroads were more consistent, people commonly traveled by wagon or carriage when visiting relatives, transporting goods, or moving between nearby settlements. And because bridges and improved roads were limited, they often depended on natural crossings. The creek was therefore not just part of the landscape but part of ordinary transportation.

What made this crossing deadly was the change in environmental conditions. Because the families had crossed safely on the way out, the route likely seemed dependable, but rainfall had raised the water and strengthened the current before they returned. Without a bridge or protected crossing, travelers had to rely on their own judgment, and a place that seemed familiar could become dangerous very quickly. In that sense, the tragedy shows how daily life on the plains was shaped by weather, water, and limited infrastructure.

The story did not disappear after 1879. A 1910 newspaper article connected the area to tragedy and dramatic local storytelling, showing that the landscape had already entered public memory by the early twentieth century. Later newspaper articles in 1999 and 2000 tried to identify the crossing site more precisely and reconstruct the event through maps, local historical knowledge, and cemetery evidence. Cemetery and burial records connected to E. K. Lee and the other victims helped ground the story in identifiable individuals, showing that it was not simply a local legend but a documented tragedy.

Today, Split Rock Creek remains part of the landscape near Brandon, but it is also a historical site marked by death, survival, and remembrance. Later bridge building such as the 1908 Palisades Bridge and improved crossings reduced dependence on risky natural fords, yet they did not erase the meaning of the 1879 tragedy. Newspapers, cemetery records, historical research, and public history have kept the event alive, so that what now appears to be an ordinary crossing point still carries a deeper history of environment, travel, family loss, and memory.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

Garretson, South Dakota, has a history that reflects the development of many communities across the Great Plains during the nineteenth century. Although it is now viewed as a quiet rural town, Garretson was shaped by major historical forces including Indigenous occupation, westward settlement, railroad expansion, agriculture, and regional folklore. The town’s development demonstrates how transportation, geography, and community cooperation influenced whether frontier settlements survived or disappeared. Understanding Garretson’s past requires looking beyond its modern appearance and examining the historical events and economic changes that created the community.

Long before the founding of Garretson, the region surrounding Split Rock Creek was inhabited by Indigenous peoples who depended on the area’s rivers, prairies, and rock formations for hunting, transportation, and shelter. These natural resources supported Native communities for thousands of years and gave the land cultural and economic importance. The environment that attracts visitors today already held deep significance long before European American settlers arrived in Dakota Territory during the nineteenth century.

As westward expansion increased, settlers established farms and permanent communities throughout eastern South Dakota. One of the most important factors affecting settlement during this time was the expansion of the railroad. During the "Dakota Boom" of the late nineteenth century, railroad companies determined which prairie communities would prosper economically. Towns connected to rail lines could transport crops and goods to national markets, while communities without rail access often struggled or disappeared entirely. Railroads therefore held enormous power over the future of frontier settlements because transportation was essential for trade, communication, and migration.

Garretson was established because of this railroad expansion. The town was named after A. S. Garretson, who recognized the importance of attracting a railroad connection to the area. By helping secure transportation access, Garretson contributed to the growth of the settlement into a permanent community capable of supporting farming and business activity. The railroad allowed local farmers to ship crops and livestock to larger markets, encouraging population growth and economic development throughout the surrounding countryside. In this way, Garretson’s success depended not only on geography, but also on its connection to the transportation systems that shaped settlement across the Middle West.

Agriculture quickly became the foundation of Garretson’s economy and identity. Early settlers depended heavily on farming and livestock production, and the surrounding farmland influenced daily life in the community. Schools, churches, and businesses developed alongside agriculture and became important gathering places for residents. These institutions strengthened cooperation among community members and helped establish stability in a rural environment where survival often depended on shared labor and support. Even today, agriculture remains closely connected to the identity of the town and surrounding region.

Garretson also became known for its natural landscape, particularly the quartzite rock formations surrounding Split Rock Creek. These geographic features later contributed to tourism and local identity. One of the best-known landmarks associated with the town is Devil's Gulch, which is connected to the legend of Jesse James. According to local folklore, Jesse James escaped pursuing law enforcement officers by jumping his horse across the narrow gorge after a failed robbery in Minnesota. Although historians debate whether the event actually occurred, the story became an important part of Garretson’s historical identity and continues to attract tourists today.

The legend of Jesse James also reflects broader historical attitudes during the late nineteenth century. Many Americans distrusted railroad corporations and wealthy bankers because they controlled transportation, land, and economic opportunities across the frontier. Since Jesse James frequently robbed banks and railroads, some people viewed him as a symbol of resistance against powerful economic elites despite his criminal actions. The popularity of the Devil’s Gulch story therefore reveals how local folklore can preserve larger social tensions and public attitudes from a particular historical period.

Overall, Garretson’s history demonstrates how transportation, agriculture, geography, and folklore shaped the development of small communities in South Dakota.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

Adeline Miriam Jenney was born on November 21, 1874 in Montastir, North Macedonia, which was part of the Ottoman Empire at the time. Her parents were Christian missionaries, and the family stayed in North Macedonia until Adeline was 8 years old. When her family returned to the United States they resided in Wisconsin where she then graduated from high school in 1893 and then received her bachelor's degree at the University of Wisconsin at Madison in 1899. There she graduated as the “Ivy day” poet, an award given to English majors as the highest honor at the school. While getting her bachelor's degree, she also studied abroad at both University of Oxford in the United Kingdom and the University of Munich in Germany. She then went to University of Illinois to complete fellowship work in the area of English and completed her master’s degree in 1906 back in Wisconsin. Adeline went on to become a teacher and worked at Yankton College, in Yankton, South Dakota. After teaching in Yankton, Adeline's father was nearing retirement age when he then settled in 1917 in Valley Springs, South Dakota. Adeline followed and held positions in teaching as well as assistant principal in Valley Springs. While in South Dakota she continued to write poetry. In 1933, she became secretary of the South Dakota Poetry Society where she worked for 34 years. In 1937 .she became the editor of Pasque Petals, the oldest, continuously published poetry magazine in the United States. In 1958, she became Poet Laureate of the state of South Dakota, making her the first female poet in the position. While in South Dakota, she also followed in her father's footsteps and became an ordained minister. She received honorary degrees from both Yankton College and Sioux Falls College (now University of Sioux Falls). Adeline Jenney passed away in Valley Springs on May, 11, 1973 at the age of ninety eight and is buried in the Valley Springs cemetery. Many of Adeline’s works reflected histories taking place in South Dakota, and even in Valley Springs. She wrote a poem titled “They Were Able” honoring immigrants from New England and Scandinavia that came to the northern plains. This poem was published in 1969 in the book Prairie Poets III. The poem tells the story of the path that immigrants took to South Dakota and that through their struggles they found a better life. She also ties in imagery specific to the Midwest and South Dakota by talking about the landscape of the prairie and states that this poem has specific ties to both Valley Springs, South Dakota, and Beaver Creek, Minnesota. The closing line, “To build for the future as truly as they?” leaves the reader with the curiosity and hope of what kind of future these immigrants will build in their newfound home.  “Dakota Pioneers" is another poem written by Adeline Jenney published in Prairie Poets II. This poem tells the story of immigrants and pioneers that came to the Dakotas. It also shows the more difficult, and less talked about aspects of immigration when their faith was tested through hunger, burnout, and extreme weather conditions like blizzards. It also has ties to South Dakota by mentioning the bison in which these pioneers encountered on their journey. In the end of the poem Jenney explains how their struggle was worth it by including the line, “But the tiller shall win him is homestead at last.” The town of Valley Springs is located east of the city of Sioux Falls near the Minnesota border. It was often referred to as “the front door to South Dakota.” In 1862, President Aberham Lincoln signed the Homestead Act into law, which grants each applicant 160 acres of public land to farm to encourage more people to settle out west. This brought pioneers and immigrants to the area, mostly between the years of 1868 and 1873. The U.S-Dakota War of 1862 also caused an influx of settlers to the area due to flight from the social turmoil in Minnesota. By the late nineteenth century, Valley Springs was known as a growing agricultural town with rich soil and large shipping points for livestock and grain. These push and pull factors brought people from all over to start a life in Valley Springs. In 1873, an application for a post office in Valley Springs was made by a man named Johnathan Dunham, also known as “The Father of Valley Springs.” Five years later, in 1878, the town was officially incorporated, which led to founding schools and churches. Stories of Valley Springs and its development are shown throughout the works of Adeline Jenney in many ways like in the poems mentioned above. Another example of her work that reflects Valley Springs is called “Land o’ mine.” This poem talks about the prairies of South Dakota as well as the livestock and domestic plants living in the geographical area. Adeline represents and reflects both Valley Springs and South Dakota by showing life from her perspective, the perspective of others, and the rich history of agriculture, war, and immigration. She left her mark by dedicating her life to poetry, teaching, ministry, and by making a difference in Valley Springs. 

For more (including 5 images) view the original article

The Eminja Mounds, also known as the Brandon Village Site or Split Rock Creek Mounds, and sometimes described by archaeologists as a “fortified village,” represent more than just one historical interpretation. The different names already show that this site means different things to different people. For the Arikara and other Plains Indigenous nations, the mounds are sacred burial grounds connected to ancestors, spiritual beliefs, and oral traditions. Rather than being viewed as ruins of the past, they are understood as part of living culture. In the Arikara narratives collected by Douglas Parks and Alfred Morsette, history is not just written down. It is remembered through storytelling, relationships, and lived experience. Stories passed down across generations preserve knowledge about people, places, and events in ways that written records sometimes cannot. Oral tradition as a way of knowing feels very different from the archaeological perspective. 

Archaeologists, however, focused on the physical layout of the site and referred to it as a fortified village because of the earthworks and defensive ditches. Their interpretation centered on structures, artifacts, and material evidence. Researchers studied settlement patterns, burial mounds, and defensive features to reconstruct how people might have lived at the site centuries ago. While that approach values scientific documentation, it does not fully account for the spiritual and cultural meanings attached to the land. This contrast shows how history can look differently depending on whose knowledge is being prioritized. 

In 1941, William Over and Elmer Meleen of the University of South Dakota Museum (now called the W.H. Over Museum) excavated the site. They carefully recorded structural remains, burial mounds, and artifacts. Their work helped establish the site as one of the most significant archaeological locations in eastern South Dakota. But like most archaeology at the time, the excavation treated the site as an object of study rather than a sacred space. There is little evidence that Native communities were consulted before human remains were removed. Many of the remains and artifacts were taken to museums or research collections for analysis. As Pawnee attorney Walter Echo-Hawk observed, “If you desecrate a white grave, you wind up sitting in prison. But desecrate an Indian grave, you get a Ph.D.” This reflects a larger pattern in early twentieth century archaeology where Indigenous voices were often excluded from decisions about their own ancestors. 

By the 1950s, local historians and settlers began preserving the mounds as part of regional heritage. A 1954 article in the Argus Leader newspaper highlighted the site as an important historical landmark for Minnehaha County. While preservation helped protect the land physically, it still puts the site within a settler narrative of the “vanishing Indian”. The mounds were often described as part of an ancient past that had not ended, not as places still meaningful to Native American communities today. As a result, public interpretations sometimes focused more on regional pride rather than Indigenous cultural connections. 

The Red Power Movement in the 1970s marked an important shift. Indigenous activists began demanding the protection of sacred sites and the return of ancestral remains, such as Yankton Dakota woman Maria Pearson, who is considered the mother of NAGPRA (the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990), for her advocacy for a foundational state law in Iowa. As David Hurst Thomas explain in the book Skull Wars, NAGPRA changes the relationship between archaeologists and Native American communities by requiring consultation and repatriation. Institutions receiving federal dollars were now legally required to return human remains and sacred cultural items to affiliated tribes whenever possible. This law acknowledged that Native nations have authority over their ancestors and cultural items. 

Today, the Eminija Mounds are approached through consultation with affiliated tribes. Archaeologists and researchers now work with Native communities when studying burial grounds of culturally sensitive sites. The shift from the 1941 excavation to modern collaboration shows how archaeological practices have since evolved. Looking at this site over time makes it clear that history is not just about uncovering the past. It is also about who has the right to interpret it and whose knowledge is recognized as legitimate.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

Those moving to and from Garretson, South Dakota, often faced difficulty crossing the river safely, particularly during periods of high water or seasonal flooding. Before permanent crossings were constructed, rural travel depended on unreliable and temporary structures. County officials recognized the need for improved transportation infrastructure, and discussions about bridge construction began to appear in county proceedings during the late nineteenth century. These concerns would lead to the creation of a permanent crossing over Split Rock Creek.

The Palisades Bridge, constructed in 1908, was the result of these efforts to improve regional transportation. Built as a stone arch bridge, the structure reflected both practical engineering considerations and the geological character of the surrounding landscape. The builders used locally quarried Sioux quartzite, the distinctive pink stone that forms the cliffs and formations along the river. This choice of material not only provided durability but also visually integrated the bridge into its natural environment.

The design demonstrated how communities reshaped the landscape to meet economic and social needs. By building a permanent stone crossing, local leaders and workers transformed the river from a barrier into a reliable route for movement and exchange between Brandon and Garretson, South Dakota. The construction of the bridge immediately altered daily life in the surrounding area. With a stable crossing in place, farmers could transport crops and livestock more easily to nearby towns and markets. Merchants and residents also benefited from more reliable travel routes across Split Rock Creek. Seasonal conditions that once made crossings hazardous became less threatening with the presence of a permanent structure. In this way, the bridge helped facilitate regional economic exchange and communication. The project also reflected broader trends of the early twentieth century, when many communities embraced infrastructure improvements as symbols of modernization and progress.

When the bridge was first completed, residents likely viewed it primarily as a practical improvement rather than a scenic attraction. The permanence of its stone construction may have inspired local pride, signaling both engineering achievement and the county’s investment in modernization. Bridges such as the Palisades structure represented stability and connection, linking rural communities that had previously been separated by difficult terrain. At the time of its construction, the bridge’s value lay in its usefulness and reliability rather than its historical or aesthetic significance.

Over time, however, the meaning of the Palisades Bridge began to shift. By the late twentieth century, the structure was no longer simply a piece of infrastructure but a historic landmark. In 1999, the bridge was added to the National Register of Historic Places in recognition of its architectural significance as a stone arch bridge and its importance within regional transportation history. This designation reflected growing efforts to preserve historic structures that illustrate the development of local communities. Public perception of the bridge continued to evolve in the years that followed, especially with the establishment of Palisades State Park in 1972. Newspaper coverage in the early 2000s increasingly framed the Palisades Bridge as a symbol of local heritage. Articles described celebrations and community events that marked the bridge’s long history, highlighting the pride residents felt in its continued presence. Rather than serving only as a transportation route, the bridge became a point of historical reflection and regional identity.

Today, the Palisades Bridge stands within the scenic setting of Palisades State Park, surrounded by hiking trails, quartzite cliffs, and access to Split Rock Creek. Visitors who cross the bridge now often do so at a slower pace, taking in the natural beauty of the landscape rather than simply traveling from one destination to another. The structure that once solved a practical transportation problem has become a historic feature within a recreational environment. The history of the Palisades Bridge illustrates how built environments can change in meaning over time. Originally constructed out of necessity to improve rural travel, the bridge now serves as a preserved reminder of regional development and community ingenuity. Its continued presence reflects both the practical ambitions of the early twentieth century and the modern desire to preserve and remember the infrastructure that shaped local life.

For more (including 4 images) view the original article

A twisted and gnarled box elder grows atop the tallest of the remaining Eminija Mounds near Brandon, South Dakota, under the watch of nesting bald eagles. The Shafer family, who own and protect the land, has a folk tale that they share with their children. Many years ago, a great Native elder died, and as his people gathered around to bury his body, they placed a single seed in his mouth. They declared that even in their death, there will be new life. While the legend may only contain a grain of truth, there is a strange and ethereal power in that old box elder and the mounds it shelters.

Standing on the roadside of State Highway 11, you see a landscape that has been inhabited since at least 1000 A.D. by Native Americans. Over the hill and across the Big Sioux River, the smoke of a dozen cookfires could be seen from the village of the moundbuilders, believed to be the ancestors of the present-day Ponca or the Omaha tribes. People traveling along the river stopped and traded wares from their expansive trade routes along the Missouri River. The children played outside the lodges as they were watched over by their ancestors, buried peacefully in the lofty Eminija Mounds.

When a villager passed away, they joined the ancestors buried in those mounds. These mounds were likely the secondary and final resting place, with multiple people buried in the same large burial pit. In a burial pit lined with bark, they were laid to rest, adorned with shell beads from the Atlantic Ocean or copper beads from the Great Lakes that were traded for. They were buried with their tools made of bone, stone, and pottery. The dead were then covered in furs, and then bark, and then soil scraped from the surrounding land to build up the mounds that mark their place to this day. Even when the people of the village moved to other places, they still returned to visit the buried dead anytime they traveled along the river.

At the end of World War II, Wendell Shafer came home from Australia to buy a plot of land on which to build a family home for himself and his wife, Eva Shafer. They bought the 140 acres of land on which the mounds sit. They saw how many artifact hunters from Sioux Falls, many prominent members of the community, treated the land irreverently since 1869, when Dr. J.F. Boughter, a Fort Dakota surgeon, first excavated two mounds. Subsequent artifact hunters dug, scraped, and even used dynamite to get at the funerary objects below. Since then, of the original 38 that were documented, only 15 have survived.

In 1984, the Shafers decided it was time to get the land official protection, so they had the site designated with an Easement of Historic Preservation. This designation protects the land from anyone trying to dig on it, including the owners. Split Rock Boulevard, which parallels the protected land, has repeatedly sought to expand, looking for any way to break ground for a wider road. They have failed every time, so long as there has been the Shafer name on the deed, a mantle of protection handed down through the generations.

For more (including 2 images & 1 video) view the original article

During the Great Depression of the 1930s, the city of Sioux Falls had to learn to live through economic hardship as South Dakota experienced an outmigration of people. As agriculture and industries worked towards economic stabilization, another disaster struck. On October 11, 1938, at 3:37 a.m., an unexpected earthquake struck Sioux Falls.

The earthquake registered a magnitude of 4.1 on the Richter scale and affected about 3,000 square miles of Sioux Falls and the surrounding region. Albeit mild by global standards, the earthquake rattled the windows of residents and the Sioux Falls police received about fifty calls by concerned citizens as mentioned in a government report. Although no structural damage occurred due to this earthquake, the event did challenge the notion held by many South Dakotans that the Great Plains was a region of geological stability. According to an Argus Leader newspaper article from October 19, 2003, this was the only earthquake ever recorded in the county. The newspaper also mentioned a historical marker being dedicated to the earthquake near its epicenter which was reported to be near the Northern Links Golf Course. The earthquake’s cause was a phenomenon known as “isostatic rebound." As described by geologist Leah H. Joseph from the University of Michigan, isostatic rebound was seismic activity that occurs “when a load is imposed on or removed from the lithosphere.” In plain terms, isostatic rebound refers to the slow and gradual lifting of the Earth’s crust due to glaciers that were compressed during the Ice Age retreating and causing the Earth’s crust to rebound.

The 1938 earthquake was documented through local newspapers and through scientific institutions. Journalists in the aforementioned Argus Leader reported on the reaction of local residents and sought to describe the earthquake intricately. The accounts of local newspapers seized the details about the civic impact of the event such as confusion, bewilderment, and even curiosity. Concurrently, the U.S. Geological Survey recorded the seismographic data. In addition, physical records about the quake have also been preserved by the State of South Dakota and some are present in Siouxland Heritage Museums.

Despite its modest scale, the 1938 Sioux Falls earthquake stands out because the occurrence of such tremors is considered to be atypical in the Great Plains. Far from the reach of the tectonic plates that generate the bulk of the world’s seismic activity, South Dakota is a place that is regarded as a safe, geologically silent place where everything is expected to stay still. Therefore, the 1938 Sioux Falls earthquake serves as a reminder that sometimes even the most stout and secure landscapes can move and leave an impact on its inhabitants and history.

For more (including 4 images) view the original article

Lilly and Robert Foster were Irish Americans who immigrated to the United States in 1865 and applied for a homestead in 1873 near the unincorporated town of Ellis. They had a total of nine kids, two of whom later perished.

The family moved from Ireland to escape the harsh conditions of the Great Famine, caused by the failure of the potato crop, a staple food, resulted in mass starvation. Many Irish sought refuge in America to escape the terrible conditions. Long-standing British rule plus the economic oppression contributed to the desire for a better life, and many Irish immigrants were fleeing not just famine, but also political instability and lack of work opportunities. Before the famine, many Irish immigrants traveled as indentured servants. Working for a period to pay for their passage to America.

Unfortunately for the Fosters, their hardship was not over in the Dakota Territory. Two of their children, Robert Foster Jr. and Sarah Foster, would go out to collect from fox traps in a creek bed a couple of miles away at the worst possible time. A blizzard blew in suddenly, and the storm made it impossible for the children to find their way home. Eventually, they came to a stop at a sod house. It was in this sod house that they ended up passing away due to the cold and likely dehydration. The children were found weeks later after a neighbor had a dream about their location (supposedly). They proceeded to find their frozen bodies on March 15th, and buried them on their farm soon after, and later moved to the Bethel Cemetery.

During Robert Foster and Lily’s life together, they were considered good people. Robert's obituary detailed how he was a community man and hands-on leader, helpful and religious, and generally made the lives of those around him easier. He was buried with his two dead children 14 years after they died in the Bethel Cemetery in Minnehaha County. Lilly led a quiet life, following in her husband’s footsteps and dying surrounded by loved ones many years later. Her son John and three daughters were there when she passed away. I imagine the tragedy of their kids dying made them move closer to becoming a community pillar, being recognized as one of the oldest settler families in South Dakota, even after death.

The Fosters were one of the many founding pillars of America; their story tells one of tragedy, but also hardship and perseverance in the face of that tragedy, as well as the willpower to keep going despite it all. They were regarded in life as good people willing to help the community, and they set good examples for the community of Minnehaha County and the greater Siouxland area.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

John and Kirsti Thompson were both born in Norway in 1841 and 1845 respectively, and both of them immigrated to the United States in their early teens. John Thompson first settled in Wisconsin, which already had a prominent Norwegian community. Immigrants to the United States often sought out existing ethnic communities. Living with people who came from the same country helped immigrants adjust to their lives in this strange new land that they now found themselves in.

John and Kirsti met in Minnesota, where Kirsti was residing. Minnesota was, and still is, another state with a large population of Norwegians. However, shortly after their marriage, the two would leave for the Dakota Territory in a covered wagon. While there was a small population of Norwegians in Dakota Territory at the time, there weren't nearly as many as there would be in the future.

Why would this young couple leave their community for an unknown territory? One reason was the abundance of fertile farmland. Many Norwegians were motivated by the economic stability that could be gained through farming in Dakota Territory. For many, including the Thompsons, the rewards that could be gained in Dakota Territory outweighed the risks that came from pioneer life.

However, Thompsons would not be without community for long. As they established themselves in the territory along with their friends, the Nelsons, they would encourage their fellow Norwegians back in Minnesota to join them. This would be the start of the large Norwegian community in Minnehaha County. The more Norwegians that settled in Dakota Territory, the more other Norwegian settlers wished to join them. Soon, a large Norwegian community formed in Minnehaha County and the neighboring counties. By 1880, one-quarter of the population of Minnehaha County was Norwegian American; in 1900, that number was thirty-seven percent. John and Kirsti Thompson, in a way, were the founders of this large community. Without them pioneering the way, many Norwegian settlers would not have moved to what would become South Dakota.

The Lutheran Church was an important aspect of the Norwegian settler community. Religion provided not just a spiritual grounding for communities, but also a social center as well, since homesteads were often far apart and the church helped preserve Norwegian customs. Shared faith tied the community together and churches often would serve as meeting houses. In communities before a permanent brick-and-mortar church was built, worship services would be held in the house of a family in the community. The Thompsons were one such family. Their house served as the original building for Nidaros Lutheran Church, the first Christian church established in Minnehaha County.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

If you stand at the highest point of Minnehaha County near Dell Rapids at sunrise, the white boarded silhouette of Willow Creek Lutheran Church rises quietly above the prairie, its steep gable roof and centered bell tower marking the horizon as it has for well over a century. Four pointed-arch stained glass windows line the church, catching the morning sun and casting warm color across wooden pews polished by generations. Around the churchyard stand tall evergreens, guardians of a cemetery where names etched in stone echo with stories of faith, hardship, and community. The church is more than architecture; it is a witness to lives shaped by the vast Dakota plains.

The roots of this sacred place stretch far beyond the prairie, beginning in rural Norway. In the early 1870s, waves of Norwegian immigrants were drawn by the promise of fertile land through the Homestead Act. Leaving behind a homeland fractured by economic hardship and limited opportunity, these settlers journeyed across the Atlantic, arriving in the Dakota Territory with courage and determination. In 1873, some Norwegian immigrants claimed land near a small, winding stream they called Willow Creek, constructing sod huts along the Big Sioux River and hauling timber from distant groves to erect rudimentary shelters. The prairie, vast and unfamiliar, could have been intimidating, yet it offered hope, a blank canvas upon which to build a new life.

The Lutheran faith bound the settlers together through these early trials. Before any church building existed, worship took place in homes. In 1874, an itinerant pastor named Hans Zahl Hvid visited the area and led the first organized service in a settler’s living room, a humble gathering where neighbors stood shoulder to shoulder. A year later, the congregation formally organized, adopting a constitution and a name that honored both their Scandinavian roots and their new home. Worship became a rhythm for life on the prairie, sustaining them through harsh winters, uncertain harvests, and the daily labor of breaking sod and planting crops.

Norwegian American women in the community translated faith into action. In 1886, they formed the Ladies Aid Society, bringing Norwegian traditions into the heart of the congregation. They hosted lefse and lutefisk suppers, crafted quilts, and organized sales to raise funds for building the church, purchasing missions, and even securing a half-ton bell for $178.20. These women carried not only recipes and language from Norway but also resilience, creating community spaces where fellowship, faith, and generosity intertwined. Their work made permanence possible, turning the vision of a church into a tangible home on the prairie.

By 1888, construction began on the present church at the highest point in the county, on land donated by local settler D.K. Ducken. The wood-framed structure, simple yet dignified, was completed after years of patient labor and was dedicated in 1893. Surrounding it, the cemetery grew, preserving the names and memories of those who shaped the congregation. Over time, the church became the center of life: baptisms, weddings, and funerals connected families to both faith and land. Generations were nurtured beneath the steeple, learning the cycles of planting and harvest alongside the teachings of the church.

As decades passed, Willow Creek adapted while remaining rooted in tradition. Worship gradually shifted languages from Norwegian to English in the early 20th century, reflecting cultural evolution while maintaining continuity of faith. Quilters, Sunday School teachers, and congregational volunteers preserved the sense of fellowship initiated by the first settlers. Today, the church is both a historical landmark and a living congregation. Its bell continues to ring across the prairie, the organ and piano fill the chapel with music, and warm smiles greet visitors at the door.

Willow Creek Lutheran Church stands as a testament to perseverance, faith, and community. It tells the story of Norwegian immigrants who transformed the prairie into home, of women who stitched tradition into everyday life, and of generations who grew up beneath its steeple.

For more (including 4 images) view the original article

The Rowena Methodist Church in Rowena, South Dakota, held its first worship service on February 10, 1903. This date, however, was not the beginning of this congregation. Many years back, in 1874, the church began by holding Sunday school services in the dugout basement of Madison and Elizabeth Webster’s home. In the winter of 1874 to 1875, a traveling preacher, known as circuit riding minister named Reverend G.D Hook, visited the area and gave his first sermon in a local home. Because of low population density in rural areas, these circuit riding ministers of various denominations gave sermons in homes and schools rather than in churches. In the 1880s, after the city of Rowena was founded, these services were held in the Rowena Town hall for four years. In 1901, plans to construct a physical church for this community were brought into the works and, on February 8, 1903, the church was officially complete and ready for services. 

The church resided in Rowena, a small town located in southeast South Dakota near the Iowa and Minnesota state borders with origins in the rock quarrying industry. It lied just east of Sioux Falls and south of Brandon. The land that contains what is today the town of Rowena was bought by a man named Thomas Ryan on July 27, 1888. A few months later, the city was officially platted and named Rowena after the heroine in Sir Walter Scott's novel titled Ivanhoe. The city of Rowena was home to a post office, dairy creamery, town hall, railway depot, blacksmith shop, a saloon, hotel, meat market, and a livery stable, and eventually the Rowena Methodist Church. Fron the late 1880s to the early 1910s, East Sioux Falls, where Rowena is located, was known for quarrying pink Sioux quartzite. Many stonecutters of Welsh, Scottish, and English backgrounds were attracted to the area, and caused the East Sioux Falls and Rowena communities to flourish.

Not only was Rowena Methodist Church a go to spot in the area for people to gather and worship, the Ben Clare Methodist Church just fifteen minutes down the road, in Ben Clare, South Dakota, shared both church staff and attendees. These churches were five miles apart and for 35 years alternated worship locations. One Sunday at Rowena, the next at Ben Clare. Neither church had a full time minister and the congregations held less than 50 people combined. Rev. Jerry Stolp was the hilltop minister assigned to both churches. This means he was affiliated with multiple churches. This is popular in small towns and rural areas like Ben Clare and Rowena. Gleen Hammerly and Gary Rae were two other hilltop pastors who also lead worship occasionally at these two churches. Bill Webster was a local at the Methodist churches and became a member in 1934, explaining that “each Church is quite nice, and we hate to give up either one. We each have to give a little, but it’s worked out well.” Through community these churches stayed afloat for years, giving sermons and belonging to anyone who entered. 

The upbringing of the church took time and collaboration. The Methodist branch of Christianity first appeared in the Sioux Falls area when the Upper Iowa Conference of the Methodist Church began to minister to the region that became South Dakota in the summer of 1860. In 1871 the first Methodist church in the state was formed in Elk Point, South Dakota. The denomination spread throughout the state through circuit riding ministers. The church first planted its seed in Rowena when locals held bible study and Sunday school in their dugout basement years before the physical church ever existed. The seed began to sprout when Reverend G.D Hook, a traveling pastor, gave his first sermon in the house of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel McMackin in Rowena. For four years the Methodist congregation met and held services in the town hall, but plans to build a real building were in the works. After the church was up and running, well known people like Reverend Lewis Hartsough would pay visits to honor the church, and create and sing hymns.

Though in a rural area, the Rowena Methodist Church was not exempt from the effects of historical events and national issues. In the early 1920s the Ku Klux Klan experienced a resurgence nationwide, and South Dakota was no exception. One of the first events involving the KKK in the Siouxland area was about 30 minutes south in Canton, South Dakota, 1921 when a Klan paper was delivered around town attempting to initiate members. Throughout the 1920s, the Ku Klux Klan made multiple attempts to infiltrate the many Protestant churches across South Dakota, and the Rowena Methodist Church was one of them. The Klan members rang the church bell, which was the community's fire signal, to direct the Klan's burning of the cross on a nearby hill. The KKK would often burn crosses as an intimidation tactic to scare minorities such as immigrants, Jews, and Catholics. The KKK traveled west river to the Black Hills where they murdered a local Catholic priest in Lead, South Dakota, named Father Belknap and clashed with local soldiers in 1925. By 1929 their activity in South Dakota died down drastically. 

As the years went on, the Rowena Methodist Church began to be used less frequently. This was due to dwindling visitors and congregation members. In the late 1990s, the church was only used during the summer. In 2002, after years of being a staple church to the East Sioux Falls and Rowena community, the Rowena Methodist church closed its doors permanently. The closing service took place over one hundred years after the church's first cornerstone was laid. The Webster family was there to lay the northwest cornerstone and to put the church to rest. The church bell, pews, piano, and building itself were put on auction later that fall, and the church became a landmark with a rich and heartwarming history.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

In the Dakota Territory during the late nineteenth century, railroads were closely tied to settlement and economic development. During the Great Dakota Boom of the 1870s and 1880s, rail connections helped transform prairie communities into a market-oriented agricultural economy by making it easier to bring supplies into new settlements and ship farm products out to distant markets. Access to rail transportation influenced where commerce concentrated and how quickly towns could expand. In South Dakota, uneven access to rail lines shaped long-term regional patterns of settlement and commercial development.

For many residents of eastern South Dakota, distance from established rail stations created practical barriers to trade. Farmers and merchants often relied on wagons to move goods to and from distant depots, which increased costs and slowed exchange. These conditions encouraged interest in smaller “farm-to-market” railroads intended to connect rural producers more directly with regional markets. Building such a line, however, required financing, corporate organization, and legal management. Sioux Falls attorney Joe Kirby was part of this process. He moved to Sioux Falls in 1886, built his legal career there, and later helped found the South Dakota Central Railway, where he served as vice president and attorney.

By the early twentieth century, the South Dakota Central had become both a transportation project and a commercial enterprise. The line ran between Sioux Falls and Watertown, and contemporary newspaper coverage shows that the company promoted its progress while also addressing business matters such as tariff arrangements and service planning. Its success depended not only on laying track but also on attracting freight and negotiating workable commercial terms. The railroad’s local impact can be seen clearly in Lake Norden. When the South Dakota Central reached the area in 1907, it gave nearby farmers and merchants a closer rail connection and made it easier for agricultural goods to enter regional markets. The new townsite quickly became a local center of trade: buildings were moved there from nearby Dolph and Poinsett, and by 1909 Lake Norden had thirty-three businesses. The railroad therefore did not simply pass through the countryside; it changed where trade was conducted and helped create new commercial centers.

The later history of the South Dakota Central reflects the financial uncertainty faced by many short-line railroads in the early twentieth century. In 1916, the line was sold under court authority and reorganized as the Watertown and Sioux Falls Railway, which later came under Great Northern control. Over the following decades, increasing federal regulation and the consolidation of the railroad industry encouraged the absorption of smaller lines into larger systems. Although the South Dakota Central eventually disappeared as an independent company, its influence remained visible in the towns, transportation routes, and local commercial patterns shaped around its former route. The railroad provides a useful example of how regional lines connected rural communities to wider markets while operating within the changing business and regulatory structures of American railroading.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

According to boosters, Eminija, Minnesota Territory, was going to be a town with a glowing future and high expectations. Today, the town is hardly remembered, lost in time until rediscovered by an archaeologist. Though Eminija never became what it was planned to be, the “paper town” tells an important story about land, politics, and opportunity in the years before and leading up to the Civil War. The town of Eminija shows how powerful land companies and politics shaped the early Midwest.

Eminija was planned to be a large town covering more than 640 acres of land in South Dakota. It was meant to become the seat of Vermillion County in what was then Minnesota Territory. A county seat would have a courthouse, government offices, and businesses which meant more settlers, more money, and more growth.This idea of the town gave it a very high expectation that it would fail to represent. During the mid-nineteenth century, large land companies were buying land west of the Mississippi River in hopes to one day make some money off of them when railroads arrived and land prices increased. Many of these speculators were based in St. Paul, Minnesota, and their goal was to buy land cheaply and divide it into town lots where they would sell it at higher prices once settlers arrived. These companies believed that expansion west would bring people looking for farmland and new opportunities.

Eminija was one of those planned towns where the investors saw the land near Split Rock Creek as valuable farm ground that would then bring in more settlers. In May 1857, Dakota Land Company of St. Paul surveyed the land that would become Eminija. They claimed that the town would soon be the center of trade and had a bright future. However, many of these early towns existed mostly on maps. Some had very few buildings and some never had any buildings at all. The people behind these land companies did not just want money, they wanted political power. Controlling land meant controlling future developments which also meant more money and if a town became a county seat, it would gain influence over other towns in the State as well as the county itself. Investors pushed for their towns to receive official recognition, and they wanted railroads to pass through their towns, since railroads would bring people and business. Sometimes these towns were used as political leverage by organizing settlements and claiming that people lived there even though no one did. While it was planned as an important center of trade and growth, its true purpose may have been more on the political side than anything else.

Land speculators took the name Eminija from Native American history and it came from the Santee Dakota Nation, who called Split Rock Creek “Eminija.” This shows that long before land companies and town planners arrived that the Native Nations lived on this land. Like many towns in the region, Eminija carried a place name that reflected the area’s original inhabitants. After the US-Dakota War of 1862, Dakota were forcibly removed to reservations that opened up land for settlers.

In the end, Eminija did not survive and it never grew into the county seat that its founders imagined. The buildings deteriorated and the land returned to open prairie. For many years it seemed as if Eminija had been erased from history but the town was not completely forgotten. In 1860, archaeologist Alfred Hill rediscovered the remains of Eminija south of Brandon, South Dakota. All that remained were small mounds of dirt which were reminders of streets and foundations that once symbolized the town with great expectations. Today, Eminija reminds us that not every planned town becomes a lasting city, some are lost in time leaving only faint marks on the land.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

Peter Nielsen Byg chose to go back in but never got out. Byg, born in a tiny village in South Jutland, Denmark, on April 17, 1849, emigrated to the United States at eighteen years old with his family in 1876. His family, which consisted of his parents, Niels and Anna Matthia Byg, his three siblings, Mary, Nis, and Martha Byg, and himself, had been part of a larger pattern of Danish movement to the Minnehaha County.

More than 300,000 Danes emigrated to the United States between 1870 and 1930. America was meant to be a better place for Peter and his family, as well as many others. In Denmark, they experienced famine due to the scarcity of farming land, and America was attractive to farmers and laborers who wanted a better life. Additionally, many were seeking to escape the repression and religious restrictions that followed the 1864 loss of territory to Germany. Danish immigrants traveled in the hope of taking advantage of the U.S. Homestead Act of 1862. This act granted 160 acres of public land to immigrants, freed slaves, and even women who lived on the land for five years and cultivated it for a $10 filing fee. The only condition was that they had to be a U.S. citizen or intended to become a naturalized citizen. Lured like bees to honey, some Danes traveled to the prairies of the Dakota Territory. Danish immigrants came to three different settlements in Minnehaha County: the Benton, Grand Meadow, Hartford, and Lyons townships; the Beaver Valley area in Brandon and Split Rock townships; and Sioux Falls.

After Peter’s father died, he and his siblings separated to make their own homesteads. Peter filed for the land on which he, his wife, Anna Raven Byg, and their daughter, Annie Mathilde, settled. He built himself a “sod dugout house” and a straw stable in the prairie where he farmed and cared for his cows. The land he worked on so persistently was allotted to his children after he and his wife’s deaths. His land was obtained through the authority of the Homestead Act. It was ten years after his death in 1880 that his land was issued to his next of kin.

The year the fire occurred was particularly dangerous for prairie fires. It was dry, and according to Cecil Byg, Peter’s great nephew, “the tall grass, covered by snow, would lie dormant during the winter months and the nitrogen content of the grass greatly increased.” A spark from a campfire or lightning strike was enough to ignite the grasses And if there happened to be wind, the fire spread rapidly and quickly became out of control. In the 19th century, fires across the prairies occurred frequently every 1 to 5 years. They were ignited by both lightning and Native Americans.

Peter was caught off guard by the 1880 fire because the inferno first came from the east when most blazes usually did from the northwest. Secondly, his farm was positioned on a hill and his farm sloped somewhat to the west, so he would not have seen it coming anyway, as it was hidden from view on the far side of the hill. When he eventually spotted the fire, Peter went back to save his only animal, a cow. Unfortunately, the straw stable in which his cow was corralled did not make it easy for him, and he was trapped by the prairie fire. He was described as “roasted alive.”

The fire had spared the small home where Peter and his wife lived, and she remained unharmed. Although Peter survived the night with severe burns, he did not make it through the next morning. His brother Nis, after learning the news, rushed to have a carpenter build a coffin for Peter where he remained until his burial at the Benton Lutheran Church cemetery in Crooks.

After his death, his brother Nis named one of his twin sons after Peter as Peter Otto Byg. Later, before his own death, Nis Byg donated land he had acquired to the School District No. 93. The Tyler/Byg district no.93 was formed in July 1883. In 1922, residents voted to name the school “Byg school.” The namesake was a fitting to honor Peter Byg’s death on the unforgiving prairies.

For more (including 5 images) view the original article

The European demand for beaver pelts, particularly for felt hat production, led to intensive trapping that rapidly depleted beaver populations across many regions. As beavers became scarce, the fur trade that had previously connected Indigenous groups and European traders began to decline. Initially, relationships were maintained through systems of gift-giving, with European traders exchanging goods such as metal tools, cloth, and weapons to establish alliances and mutual obligations with Indigenous partners. Intermarriage, alongside gift-giving, further secured economic ties between Native nations and white trappers. For instance, Scottish trapper William Laidlaw, employed by the American Fur Company at Fort Pierre, married a Lakota woman, Taw-a-du-tah, who later adopted the name MaryAnn in accordance with American norms. As beaver populations dwindled and the trade became increasingly competitive and commercialized, those diplomatic practices weakened. The focus shifted toward market exchanges driven by profit, leading to the breakdown of earlier cooperative systems between Indigenous communities and European traders.

The expansion of steamboat travel on waterways in the Missouri River valley created a constant demand for fuel to power the vessels’ boilers. This need led to the establishment of numerous “wood yards” along riverbanks, where large quantities of timber were harvested and stored for passing boats. The swift consumption of wood by steamboats quickly depleted forests near the rivers, compelling woodcutters to venture further inland in search of new supplies. This heavy use of timber accelerated deforestation and transformed river economies, as many settlers and laborers relied on cutting and selling fuel for steamboats. Over time, this intensive exploitation of timber resources illustrated the significant ecological stresses imposed by early industrial transportation.

Smallpox had catastrophic effects on Indigenous communities throughout the United States during the nineteenth century, resulting in thousands of deaths and significant disruption to social and economic structures. The Lakota winter counts provide compelling evidence of this impact. These pictorial calendars recorded each year by a single significant event, and several winter counts depict the smallpox epidemic with images of individuals covered in spots or scenes of widespread mortality within camps. These records illustrate the severe consequences of the 1837–1838 epidemic, which spread along trading routes and river systems, particularly the Missouri River. The disease decimated large segments of some Native nations, weakening communities and shifting power relations on the plains and within the native-trader relationship. The preservation of these memories in winter counts affords crucial Indigenous documentation of the scale and trauma caused by smallpox.

As the 1850s progressed, multiple factors contributed to the deterioration of previously peaceful relationships, bringing about increased violence. A seemingly minor dispute over a stray cow from a Mormon wagon train resulted in the deaths of 29 soldiers and the Lakota chief Conquering Bear. This incident is frequently identified as the beginning of the Plains Indian Wars. Raids during this period often involved the theft of horses or provisions, with small groups of warriors seizing livestock or breaking into storehouses to reclaim food they believed was owed as compensation for the use of their land. The arrival of the U.S. Army further altered the dynamic. In 1855, General William S. Harney assumed control of Fort Pierre, and to the Lakota, traders were perceived as having shifted from kinship roles to acting as landlords for the military.

By the mid-1850s, the familiar world to individuals like Morgan had disappeared. The diplomatic practices that once fostered cautious cooperation in the Upper Missouri region, including gift exchanges, intermarriages, and mutual dependency, had been eroded by disease, over-trapping, and the arrival of the U.S. Army. For the Lakota, white men traversing their territory were no longer viewed as trading partners or kin through marriage, but rather as scouts, settlers, or soldiers. When Morgan and his two companions traveled down Split Rock Creek with their furs, they crossed land that had endured two decades of loss: depleted beaver populations, diminished cottonwood forests, and the devastation of smallpox.

The attack on the trappers was not arbitrary; it represented the culmination of broken promises, ecological destruction, and the replacement of trade relationships with military occupation. Morgan’s death represented not purely the end of an individual’s journey, but the closure of an era in which the fur trade, despite its faults, had once connected Native and white societies.

For more (including 3 images) view the original article

John Coswallon Morgan was born on February 14, 1840, in Palmyra, Ohio. He came from a family that had migrated from Wales to the United States in search of a better life. His parents were Evan Faulkes Morgan and Winifred Rees Morgan. They were part of many Welsh families that moved to the Midwest in the early 1800s to find land to farm and build a community. By 1850, the Morgan family had relocated to Union, a small town in Wisconsin, where they faced the challenges of settling in a new area.

On December 8, 1864, Morgan enlisted in the Union Army during the American Civil War. He was assigned to the 7th Wisconsin Infantry as a Private First Class. Likely, he did not engage in direct combat during his service; however, historical records present two differing accounts regarding the circumstances of his discharge. One version suggests that he was granted leave after sustaining three wounds in combat. Conversely, the other account indicates that, at the war's conclusion, as the 7th Regiment was mustered out, he was among the soldiers still serving and could return home without physical injury.

The 7th Wisconsin Infantry Regiment was one of the most respected Union units during the American Civil War. It was part of the famous Iron Brigade of the West. The Regiment was formed at Camp Randall in Madison, Wisconsin, and began service in September 1861. Most of its members were farmers, workers, and artisans from small towns in Wisconsin, known for their firm discipline and distinctive black hats. The 7th Wisconsin fought in its first big battle in the spring of 1862. However, it was at the Battle of Antietam in September 1862 that the Regiment really made its mark. They fought hard on the Regimental Field, suffering many losses but playing a key role in the battle. Their bravery helped the Iron Brigade become one of the Union Army's best units. In 1863, the Regiment was involved in many battles. At the Battle of Gettysburg in July, they fought on the first day and helped slow the Confederate advance, enabling the Union forces to prepare their defenses and ultimately win the battle.

By 1865, Morgan had moved even further west to Moscow, Minnesota. This was after the Civil War, during a time when many new settlers were moving into the upper Midwest. However, it is not clear what job he had there. He likely worked as a medical professional after service, as evidenced by documents that address him as M.D. John Morgan. His journey from Ohio to Wisconsin and then to Minnesota illustrates how many immigrants in the late nineteenth century were moving westward in search of new opportunities. Morgan later settled in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where he spent his later years.

At that time, Sioux Falls was experiencing rapid growth due to the expansion of railroads and an influx of people moving there. John Coswallon Morgan passed away in Sioux Falls in April 1900 at the age of sixty and was buried there. His life illustrates the broader narrative of western expansion, as many people sought farming opportunities and established communities in the northern plains during the late nineteenth century.

For more (including 5 images) view the original article

Erhardt J. Fleitz was born in Braden, Germany, on January 6, 1848. His early days consisted of schooling and boating along the Rhine River with friends. In 1862, at the age of 14, he moved to Louisville, Kentucky.  At this time, Kentucky, a border state, was being contested by both Union and Confederate armies. The Union needed forts constructed, and Fleitz became an engineer designing forts.  While the Civil War officially ended in April 1865, the United States Army found itself responsible for protecting settlers moving onto the Northern Plains. Given the state of Lexington’s economy in the aftermath of the War, Fleitz enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1866, at the age of 18. He served in Co. D, 2d Battalion, 13th U.S infantry, which had been reorganized into the 22nd infantry following the Civil War.  In June 1866, Erhardt Fleitz and his regiment were dispatched toward the Plains, traveling up the Missouri River by steamboat to Sioux City, Iowa. Once in Sioux City, the 22nd Infantry took an arduous overland journey to Fort Dakota, present day Sioux Falls. From Fort Dakota, Fleitz was sent to Fort Randall, where he served out the rest of his enlistment. He was honorably discharged on May 7, 1869. During his enlistment, Fleitz fought in no battle.  Fleitz’s discharge coincided with the decommissioning of Fort Dakota. As a result, Fleitz moved to Sioux Falls, Dakota Territory, and claimed a homestead on the city’s east side. In 1873, he sold this parcel to C. K. Howard, another early city resident. Seeking new opportunities, Fleitz decided to establish a new homestead in 1876, three miles north of Harford. Unfortunately, his timing was terrible as grasshoppers destroyed the crops South Dakota farmers planted for the next two years. This solidified Fleitz’s decision to move back to Sioux Falls. After settling in the city, Fleitz and his life partner, Elizabeth Jane Borst Fleitz, formed a family consisting of five beautiful children. It was during this period that Fleitz began his legendary career that shaped his legacy. Through old connections, he joined the Sioux Falls Brewery, owned by C.K. Howard and G.A. Knott, where he poured his passion into his work for over four decades. Fleitz only retired when the prohibition laws were enforced on the company.  Erhardt Fleitz passed away in 1932 at the age of 85 from natural causes. In his remembrance, many Sioux Falls residents and others attended his funeral to celebrate his life. As a proud member of the Independent Order of Odd Fellow (IOOF) and the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR), Fleitz symbolized the veteran experience after the Civil War. From restarting and integrating into the community, Fleitz did great in performing as one of the pioneers in the community of Sioux Falls. 

For more (including 4 images) view the original article

As the Civil War raged in places like Maryland and Mississippi, a smaller war took place on the American frontier. Dakota natives attacked frontier settlements from New Ulm, Minnesota, to Sioux Falls, Dakota Territory. In August 1862, Dakota warriors attacked native agents at the Yellow Medicine over unpaid annuities and insults. In the chaos that followed, Sioux Falls was abandoned, and New Ulm found itself under siege. A call for new military units to protect the frontier appeared.

One of those who answered this call was William L Briley, a twenty-one-year-old Irishman then living in Iowa. He joined Minnesota's Second Cavalry as a Second Lieutenant and agreed to serve three years. His appointment as lieutenant might indicate previous service, but the records do not make this clear. Originally stationed at Fort Sisseton, D.T., Briley's unit spent the summer months searching for 'hostiles' and keeping roads open. To fulfill this function, Briley's company -Company A- went on multiple expeditions or incursions against the natives throughout the Dakotas. These forays led to the only battle Briley fought in, the Battle of Killdeer Mountain.

Known to the natives as the Battle of Tahkahokuty Mountain, the battle took place in what is now Dunn County, North Dakota. General Alfred Sully's troops defeated warriors from the Lakota Yanktonia and Santee communities. Union soldiers killed between 31 to 100 Natives while losing 5 of their own. The Battle of Killdeer Mountain was the largest battle fought against the natives during the Civil War in the Dakota Territory. Briley was uninjured in this battle and was shortly thereafter promoted to first Lieutenant. Sully was so convinced that this battle had broken the Natives. that units such as the Second Minnesota Cavalry were discharged from service. Briley ended up serving just under 18 months of military service before being officially mustered out of service.

Briley returned to Minnesota, where he married Mary Pamela Allen. In 1867, they started their family with a son named after the father. Like thousands of other veterans, changes to the Homestead Law in 1873 made western migration more attractive. Briley and his growing family moved to South Dakota in 1882. The family settled in Dell Rapids. As he aged, Briley secured a pension for his military service on the Dakota prairie. he died in 1917, leaving behind a wife, son, and daughter.

Briley's Civil War service was neither as dangerous nor as heroic as some other veterans'; nevertheless, his service was recognized as necessary. If it had not been, he would not have received a U.S. pension. His quiet life after the war reflects that of thousands of other veterans; he hoped that South Dakota would provide for him and his family.

For more view the original article

Born to Bethuel Phillips and Polly Bowen on May 5, 1842, Nye E. Phillips grew up on a farm in Trumbull County, Ohio. He was 20 years-old when he joined the Union cause during the Civil War. He joined Company C, 125th Ohio Volunteer Infantry as a 1st Sergeant on September 20, 1862. Fourteen months later, on November 23, 1863, he was commisioned a Second Lieutenant; His rise up the ranks continued. He became a First Lieutenant soon after on January 28, 1864, and then promoted to Captain on February 10, 1864.

Following this promotion, Phillips was transferred to Company I and served on the regimental staff as the Quartermaster and Adjutant. Phillips then served on General Opdyke’s staff as a brigade inspector and aide de camp. Following the end of the Civil War on June 8, 1865, Phillips involvement would end once he was mustered out of service in Nashville, Tennessee. During his time in service, Phillips was in multiple battles, and was once the only officer to escape the battlefield with his company.

Following his discharge from the army, Phillips moved to Pit Hole, Pennsylvania, where he entered the mercantile industry. Unfortunately for Phillips, a fire destroyed the town, and all Phillips had left were his horses and a wagon. Phillips would have to start anew. In 1868, he secured employment at Fort D.H. Russell, present-day Cheyenne, Wyoming. In 1869, Nye Phillips made a stop at Fort Dakota, Dakota Territory (he was returning from his sister’s wedding in Ohio). He had stopped to see a friend and in the process of the visit learned Fort Dakota was being decommissioned. Sensing an opportunity, Nye Phillips decided to stay and spent his first winter living with Frank Pettigrew (brother of future U.S. Senator R.F. Pettigrew). In 1870, Phillips filed for a homestead in Minnehaha County and began farming. In 1874, he returned to Ohio to marry Austie Wagner. The couple then took up permanent residence in Sioux Falls, Dakota Territory.

As Sioux Falls grew, Phillips took on various jobs and positions, giving him increased visibility in the community. In 1872, he served as a Republican delegate in the National Convention (and did so again in the early 1890s). His political affiliation is not surprising because most Civil War veterans in South Dakota joined the Republican Party during their service, or shortly thereafter. He served two stints as the township’s Register of Deeds, in 1872-1876 and 1884-1892. An early village trustee, Phillips served as a Minnehaha County Commissioner in 1882 and 1883. He then became a city alderman (1883-1884). Phillips is perhaps best known for his time as Warden of the South Dakota Penitentiary, which he served from 1893 to 1899. Following this experience Nye Phillips became a county sheriff (1905-1906).

Phillips was a member of the Joe Hooker Post No. 10, Grand Army of the Republic. Nye Phillips’ life illustrates how veterans of the Civil War created a new life, often in a new location of the nation, and continued to serve on behalf of the government, only this time at the state and local level. Phillips died on December 20, 1927, and is buried in Mt. Pleasant Cemetery next to his wife. His death was reported by the local newspaper, signifying his influence within the community.

For more (including 2 images) view the original article

Erastus Timothy Cressey was born on February 14, 1838, in Columbus, Ohio, into a religious household shaped by his father’s role as a pastor in the First Baptist Church in Saint Paul. At the age of fourteen, Cressey began a two-year stint at St. Anthony Express as an apprentice for the printing trade. Afterward, he drifted through various cities and states of the country including Minneapolis, St Paul, Shakopee, Winona, Omaha, Indianapolis, Boston, Cambridge, and Burlington, polishing his editorial skills. On September 30, 1861, he returned to Nebraska, where he enlisted in the Regiment at Fort Snelling, serving as a private for four years. The Regiment itself was congregated into service earlier that year.

The Regiment’s first major altercation was at Mill

Springs, Kentucky, on January 19, 1862. During the skirmish, the

Regiment took position against a rail fence as the Confederate

army approached. Neither side knew how close they were to each

other. The result was an engagement that involved hand-to-and

combat. Fortunately for Cressey, his unit gained the upper hand in

the struggle. During the next eighteen months, the Regiment traversed the states of Kentucky and Tennessee and played a small role in the Battle of Perryville.

On September 19-20 of 1863, the 2nd Minnesota found themselves at the Battle of Chickamauga. Facing off against General Braxton Bragg’s Army of Tennessee, Cressey and his fellow Minnesotans repeatedly held back Confederate attacks. In all, the regiment lost 35 soldiers to death while another 113 were wounded. The tenacity of men like Cressey earned his corps commander, Major General George H. Thomas the nickname “Rock of Chickamauga.” On November 24, 1863, the Regiment engaged with the Confederate army at Missionary Ridge outside Chattanooga and captured the Confederate Army’s position. This battle was a victory for the Union army. In 1864, the Regiment partook in the Atlantic Campaign and marched alongside Sherman to the sea. After the war’s denouement, the Regiment was discharged on July 20, 1865.

After the war, Cressey married Julia P. Brooks in 1868, and resumed his printing career. He worked in the offices of Des Moines, Iowa, for six years, before taking the job of an assistant index clerk in the House of Representatives in Washington. He later published a newspaper in Mitchellville (state) before moving to Dakota Territory. In 1882, he settled in Huron, where he started the Daily and Weekly Leader newspaper. In 1883, he became the assistant clerk for the Dakota Territory legislature, which met in Yankton.

In 1888, Cressey was appointed as the assistant librarian of the United States Senate, a position for which he moved to Washington, D.C., where he resided for four years. In 1892, he and his family relocated to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where he stayed until his death on February 2, 1917. He is buried at Woodlawn Cemetery.

Cressey’s life followed the spark of an ordinary individual thrusted into extraordinary times. From a printer’s apprentice to a Union Soldier, he fought at Chickamauga, Mill Springs and Sherman’s march, surviving through years of bloodshed and showing incredible grit and resilience. His journey reminds us that history is not only written by generals and politicians but also by ordinary citizens like Cressey.

For more (including 4 images) view the original article

John Wales January was born November 29th, 1845 in Clinton County, Ohio. In 1852. He was living in Illinois when the Civil War began. January enlisted in the Union Army January 1st, 1864, at the age of 18. He joined the 14th Illinois Cavalry Regiment on June 21st, 1864, in Company B, then commanded by William Tecumseh Sherman. January’s Civil War journey unfolds amidst the Company’s ambitious march to Savannah, Georgia–starting in Peoria, Illinois. July 1864, January and fourteen other Union soldiers were captured by six rebels on Stoneman’s Raid in Macon, Georgia and were imprisoned in the infamous Andersonville prison, remembered for its abhorrent conditions. Besides being malnourished. January developed gangrene in his feet The prison doctor thought January's condition was helpless and unrecoverable, and refused to treat him. Using a small, personal pocket knife, January amputated 5 inches of decaying skin, muscle, tendons, above his ankle. Shortly after his self-administered amputation, Atlanta was captured by Union forces. To prevent January and other prisoners from being handed back to the Union forces, the Confederate army transferred them to Charleston, South Carolina. There, January suffered through additional ailments--swamp fever, scurvy, and still his gangrened feet--through the winter of 1864 and 1865. Following the Johnson-Sherman armistice in April 18655, January was released to Union Troops in Wilmington, North Carolina. Standing at 5’8”, and weighing 165 pounds at the time he was enlisted, January weighed 45 pounds at the time of his release. Due to his extraordinarily poor health, January was taken to a proper hospital in David’s Island, New York, where he spent the next seven months recovering from his wounds. According to Dyer’s Compendium, January ‘s Cavalry unit was one of 300 regiments that experienced significantly higher exposure to traumatic wartime events. He received an invalid pension in 1866, qualifying him for government assistance. He married Elizabeth Ellen Spruce in 1869, and started a family of six children: Fannie, Minnie, Emsley, John, Alice, and William. January and his family migrated to Dakota Territory and settled in Del Rapids in 1889. January's artificial limbs enabled him to become a farmer and proactive member of the Del Rapids community. January delivered Chautauqua lectures, cultivating awareness for disabled veterans. He was Commander of the Lake Madison Veterans Association in 1894 and 1899, and a member of Dahlgren Post No.20, Grand Army of the Republic in Dell Rapids from 1884-1885, serving as an Alternate and Department Inspector (South Dakota State Historical Society).

The inscription on his grave reads: "I have fought a good fight. I have finished my course. I have kept the faith."

For more (including 5 images) view the original article