By Joann M. Ringelstetter
Last year, on our spring photography trip, Ruth and I visited the town of Bonaparte, Iowa, which has a large riverfront historic district along the Des Moines River. Because many of the buildings are on the National Register of Historic Places, I decided to just walk the district with my camera and tripod. I started in the center of the district, photographing the brick post office building, which was originally the Bonaparte State Bank and Masonic Lodge #73.
This building had something I always love to see on old brick buildings: a decorative star-shaped anchor plate. Anchor plates, also called wall washers, are connected to tie rods for the purpose of reinforcing the structure of masonry buildings.
I continued east on First Street, which runs parallel to the river. Most of the buildings on this street are on the National Register, such as this old-fashioned hardware store.
The Whiteley Opera House, built circa 1894, is also on the National Register. It was rebuilt after the original Haney Opera House was destroyed by fire. Seating capacity was 600.
At the end of that street, on the edge of town, was Bonaparte Pottery. This building is not only on the National Register, but it is also a National Historic Archaeological Site. It began as Parker & Hanback Pottery in 1866 and was later known as Hanback & Wilson. At its peak, the business produced over 125,000 gallons of pottery per year as well as drain pipe, flower pots, and fire-proof bricks.
There were many more historic buildings that I photographed and more I would like to have explored with my camera lens. However, it was getting late and Ruth was urging me to wrap things up so we could continue on our route. So we pulled over on a quiet street to get our logs updated with all the subjects I had captured on my walk through town.
I had the back door of the car open and I was scrolling through photos telling Ruth what to record when I was suddenly startled by a man who had come up behind me and started talking. He was wearing bib overalls, needed a shave, and was missing one of his front teeth. He said he had seen me taking photographs earlier and he asked where we were from. There was a tile blacksmith shop across the street, so I asked him if he was the blacksmith. He said he was and that he had grown up in Bonaparte in the 1950s. His name was Maurice Cummings.
He told me that his grandfather, Clarence Cummings, had moved the blacksmith shop from the neighboring town of Bentonsport in the 1920s by hauling it in pieces using horses and mules. Then he asked if I had taken a picture of their public library just down the street from where we were standing. He said his parents had owned the building and had donated it to the city. It was originally a residence for the Green family and was converted to the Aunty Green Hotel in 1855 to accommodate railroad personnel.
Maurice said that the hotel, which had a picturesque second-story porch, had quite a history. He hesitated for a minute and then asked, “Are you guys religious?” I said, “Are we religious? Well, we like to say we’re recovering Catholics.” He laughed and said, “Okay, then I’ll tell you the real history.”
“The Aunty Green Hotel used to be a whorehouse. I’ve got pictures of the whores hanging out on the porch. People don’t like to hear that, so I’m careful who I say that to.” I laughed and then he said, “I wish I could buy you two a drink, but the bar’s not open.” I said, “That’s okay, we have to get going anyway.” Then I shook his hand and said, “Nice meeting you, Maurice Cummings. Thanks for the ‘real’ history of the hotel.” He returned to his blacksmith shop and Ruth and I went back to updating our logs.
Before we could finish our updates, Maurice, who was standing in front of his blacksmith shop, started talking to me again. I told him I had to finish my log updates. He waited patiently while we finished and then struck up a conversation again. After several minutes of small talk, I told him that we really had to get going because we had a lot to photograph yet that day. I said goodbye and he lingered outside his shop until we drove away.
As we passed an old grocery store that had a ghost sign for “General Merchandise & Geyserite Soap,” and the blacksmith shop began to fade in the rearview mirror, Ruth smirked and said, “Joann’s got a boyfriend! Joann’s got a boyfriend in Bonaparte!”
And what could I do, but laugh!
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Shunpiking To Heaven Backroads Blog
Showing posts with label blacksmith shops. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blacksmith shops. Show all posts
Friday, March 18, 2016
Sunday, July 11, 2010
The Country Blacksmith
By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
The first blacksmith shop that I remember visiting was many years ago on a day trip with our family to Old Wade House historic site in Greenbush, Wisconsin. First there was a tour of the house, and then we got to go outside to the other buildings. That was much more interesting to me than the tour of the furnishings and the women doing rosemaling in the kitchen of the house.
Years after that first visit to the blacksmith shop, Joann and I started our backroad explorations. One of our first spots to photograph was Hyde Mill in Iowa County, Wisconsin. On an old farm near the mill was a stone building next to the road and it was in bad shape. There was an old car, old farm equipment, and other farm junk piled around it, but we took photographs and wondered about what the building was. As we made periodic trips to the mill, we observed the old stone building deteriorating more with each passing year until on one trip, it was gone. Soon after that, we found out that it had been the Hyde Blacksmith Shop. We thought the pictures we had captured on film were all we would ever have of that building.
Then a couple of years ago, an article appeared in the paper about the Hyde Blacksmith Shop and how it had been taken down stone by stone and rebuilt on a farm a short distance away. Now the blacksmith shop is open occasionally for visitors and demonstrations.
With the blacksmith trade having been largely eliminated by modern life, we are surprised by the number of blacksmith shops that can still be found. Many have been repurposed, but some stand as a testament to the old ways. We loved this red blacksmith shop we found one winter. The snow always makes the red of the buildings pop.
I love the horse trough in front of this blacksmith shop we found in a historic town in Ohio. It is amazing when we find these buildings from such a long time ago largely or wholly intact.
From a historic listing, I had found an old stone hotel that we visited several times. The listing showed “hotel and blacksmith shop,” but for some reason it hadn’t dawned on me that there would be two separate buildings. Often buildings that have been around for over a century end up having been used for numerous purposes. In this case, the hotel building was now located on a farm and was being used by the farm family.
I took us past the old hotel again in 2008 and, as Joann was taking photos, it finally dawned on me that another building at the site might have been the blacksmith shop. Luckily, a young woman who lived on the farm was walking along the road and she stopped to chat. She told us some history about the hotel, and then Joann asked if the other building was the blacksmith shop. She confirmed that it had been a blacksmith shop and was originally located on the other side of the road.
In 2007, we visited northern Michigan, and at the tip of the Leelanau peninsula, is the restored logging village of Glen Haven. It includes a blacksmith shop, a general store, an old cannery, and an abandoned lifesaving station. We love it when we can find so much history to explore in one place.
In 2006, on one of our barn hunting trips to Iowa, we were passing by a town where I had marked a blacksmith shop from a historic listing. Even though this wasn’t part of our agenda for the trip, we decided to stop. The shop wasn’t open, but we did get a couple of pictures and read the historic sign about the shop. It had been built by Matthew Edel in 1883. He manufactured, sharpened, and repaired items brought to him. He also did farrier (horseshoe) work and repaired wagons and wagon wheels.
By the early 20th century, with the advent of the automobile, things were changing for the blacksmith, and with the decline in his business, Edel’s son attended automobile repair classes and they built a shop for him. By 1940, Matthew was in his 80’s and he closed his blacksmith shop permanently. He died shortly thereafter and his family left his shop exactly as he had left it when he closed it. In 1986, his family donated it to the state of Iowa.
In our travels we also come across buildings that we suspect are blacksmith shops, but we sometimes can’t find anyone to tell us for sure. Occasionally we luck out, as we did one morning in October of 2007. We were photographing an old stone building when a gentleman pulled up and parked beside it. Joann struck up a conversation and found out that he was the owner and that it had been a blacksmith shop.
If you’ve read our blog entitled “What Do You Suppose That Was?” from March 7, 2010, you know we had the same experience in Shawano County, Wisconsin. We found an old building and suspected it was a blacksmith shop, but didn’t see anyone around to ask. Sometimes we have this problem because it is too early on a weekend morning to knock on anyone’s door. Unlike us, most people don’t get up before dawn on the weekend.
Friends at work are also helpful sometimes to find interesting buildings that we didn’t know about. One day I mentioned that we had been out photographing over the weekend, and as I described where we had been, a coworker asked if we had taken a picture of the blacksmith shop. We had not, since I didn’t know it existed. We had driven right by, and even though the entire town consisted of only a handful of streets, we had not driven into town. We soon made it a point to return and we found an operating blacksmith shop. That particular blacksmith shop is still operating today making decorative ironwork, and in fact the shop has had to expand with a large newer building next to the original blacksmith shop.
And just a couple of weeks ago, on a short trip to northern Minnesota, we came upon a newly built blacksmith shop. It’s nice to see an old trade continue to exist.
Visit some historic sites and you can see a blacksmith at work, and he might even be dressed in period attire. And if you end up in a small town, check out the architecture and see if you can spot what might be an old blacksmith shop – and then tell us about it!
Until next time, Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
The first blacksmith shop that I remember visiting was many years ago on a day trip with our family to Old Wade House historic site in Greenbush, Wisconsin. First there was a tour of the house, and then we got to go outside to the other buildings. That was much more interesting to me than the tour of the furnishings and the women doing rosemaling in the kitchen of the house.
Years after that first visit to the blacksmith shop, Joann and I started our backroad explorations. One of our first spots to photograph was Hyde Mill in Iowa County, Wisconsin. On an old farm near the mill was a stone building next to the road and it was in bad shape. There was an old car, old farm equipment, and other farm junk piled around it, but we took photographs and wondered about what the building was. As we made periodic trips to the mill, we observed the old stone building deteriorating more with each passing year until on one trip, it was gone. Soon after that, we found out that it had been the Hyde Blacksmith Shop. We thought the pictures we had captured on film were all we would ever have of that building.
Then a couple of years ago, an article appeared in the paper about the Hyde Blacksmith Shop and how it had been taken down stone by stone and rebuilt on a farm a short distance away. Now the blacksmith shop is open occasionally for visitors and demonstrations.
With the blacksmith trade having been largely eliminated by modern life, we are surprised by the number of blacksmith shops that can still be found. Many have been repurposed, but some stand as a testament to the old ways. We loved this red blacksmith shop we found one winter. The snow always makes the red of the buildings pop.
I love the horse trough in front of this blacksmith shop we found in a historic town in Ohio. It is amazing when we find these buildings from such a long time ago largely or wholly intact.
From a historic listing, I had found an old stone hotel that we visited several times. The listing showed “hotel and blacksmith shop,” but for some reason it hadn’t dawned on me that there would be two separate buildings. Often buildings that have been around for over a century end up having been used for numerous purposes. In this case, the hotel building was now located on a farm and was being used by the farm family.
I took us past the old hotel again in 2008 and, as Joann was taking photos, it finally dawned on me that another building at the site might have been the blacksmith shop. Luckily, a young woman who lived on the farm was walking along the road and she stopped to chat. She told us some history about the hotel, and then Joann asked if the other building was the blacksmith shop. She confirmed that it had been a blacksmith shop and was originally located on the other side of the road.
In 2007, we visited northern Michigan, and at the tip of the Leelanau peninsula, is the restored logging village of Glen Haven. It includes a blacksmith shop, a general store, an old cannery, and an abandoned lifesaving station. We love it when we can find so much history to explore in one place.
In 2006, on one of our barn hunting trips to Iowa, we were passing by a town where I had marked a blacksmith shop from a historic listing. Even though this wasn’t part of our agenda for the trip, we decided to stop. The shop wasn’t open, but we did get a couple of pictures and read the historic sign about the shop. It had been built by Matthew Edel in 1883. He manufactured, sharpened, and repaired items brought to him. He also did farrier (horseshoe) work and repaired wagons and wagon wheels.
By the early 20th century, with the advent of the automobile, things were changing for the blacksmith, and with the decline in his business, Edel’s son attended automobile repair classes and they built a shop for him. By 1940, Matthew was in his 80’s and he closed his blacksmith shop permanently. He died shortly thereafter and his family left his shop exactly as he had left it when he closed it. In 1986, his family donated it to the state of Iowa.
In our travels we also come across buildings that we suspect are blacksmith shops, but we sometimes can’t find anyone to tell us for sure. Occasionally we luck out, as we did one morning in October of 2007. We were photographing an old stone building when a gentleman pulled up and parked beside it. Joann struck up a conversation and found out that he was the owner and that it had been a blacksmith shop.
If you’ve read our blog entitled “What Do You Suppose That Was?” from March 7, 2010, you know we had the same experience in Shawano County, Wisconsin. We found an old building and suspected it was a blacksmith shop, but didn’t see anyone around to ask. Sometimes we have this problem because it is too early on a weekend morning to knock on anyone’s door. Unlike us, most people don’t get up before dawn on the weekend.
Friends at work are also helpful sometimes to find interesting buildings that we didn’t know about. One day I mentioned that we had been out photographing over the weekend, and as I described where we had been, a coworker asked if we had taken a picture of the blacksmith shop. We had not, since I didn’t know it existed. We had driven right by, and even though the entire town consisted of only a handful of streets, we had not driven into town. We soon made it a point to return and we found an operating blacksmith shop. That particular blacksmith shop is still operating today making decorative ironwork, and in fact the shop has had to expand with a large newer building next to the original blacksmith shop.
And just a couple of weeks ago, on a short trip to northern Minnesota, we came upon a newly built blacksmith shop. It’s nice to see an old trade continue to exist.
Visit some historic sites and you can see a blacksmith at work, and he might even be dressed in period attire. And if you end up in a small town, check out the architecture and see if you can spot what might be an old blacksmith shop – and then tell us about it!
Until next time, Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)