The Great Sand Fracas of Ames County (6 page)

W
WRI, the radio station in Willow River, ran public service announcements about the cemetery walk for a couple weeks. The
Ames County Argus
ran a long story with several photos in its most recent issue. One of the TV stations in Green Bay sent a reporter and film crew to Link Lake. They interviewed both Emily Higgins, who explained the history of the event, and Mayor Jessup, who said, “We must commend the Link Lake Historical Society for helping us remember the important people who made Link Lake what it is today.”

Emily thought,
The mayor said the right words, but he really doesn't believe them
. Emily was quite certain the mayor, along with Marilyn Jones and the majority of the members of the Link Lake Economic Development Council, believed the historical society was made up of those opposed to change and was more of a hindrance than an asset to the community. But she also believed that beyond those who were members of the historical society, a goodly number of the residents of Link Lake and the surrounding communities appreciated the work of the historical society and supported its many activities and were especially pleased that the organization was helping people learn about the community's history and preserving historical buildings and other historical artifacts in the community.

The last Saturday in April dawned clear and sunny, one of those days that people talk about when they describe what spring can be like in central Wisconsin. It was an ideal day for a cemetery walk, or anything else outdoors, for that matter. Promptly at 10:00 a.m., Henrietta O'Malley, the head waitress at the Eat Well Café and a longtime member of the historical society, welcomed the fifty or so people who turned out for the walk, reminding them that they had a treat in store as they become acquainted with the historical figures who made Link Lake what it is today.

“Members of our historical society have taken the roles of the people we are commemorating, dressing as these people dressed and sharing something of their lives,” she explained. “We will divide the group into three smaller groups, so people can hear and see more easily. And each group will have an opportunity to visit all the sites.”

Henrietta quickly organized the groups—young people and older people, parents with children, local people and those from as far away as the Fox River Valley.

“Group one, please follow me to the grave of Increase Joseph Link, the founder of the Village of Link Lake,” said Henrietta as she turned and began walking to the first grave site on the walk. A historical society volunteer led each of the other two groups, who went to other locations.

As he had done from the time of the first cemetery walk, Oscar Anderson played the role of Pastor Increase Joseph Link. Increase Joseph, as he was fondly called, always dressed in black from his black shoes to his black hat, and that's the way Oscar Anderson was dressed today. When everyone had gathered around, Oscar began. He stood in front of Increase Joseph's headstone, a simple stone with the following words inscribed on it:

Oscar Anderson held a red book in his hand, as was the style of Increase Joseph, who always preached while waving a red book. In a loud, deep voice that carried well beyond the confines of the Link Lake Cemetery, Oscar intoned:

“We are each of us like the giant oaks that we see just outside this meeting place. The oak lives in harmony with its neighbors, the aspen, the maple, and the pine, as we each must learn to live with those who are different from us.

“We must learn to live in harmony with the Norwegians and Welsh, the Swedes and the Danes, the Irish and the English, the Poles and the Germans, and the Indians, too, like my friend, Chief Kee-chee-new of the Menominee. All are our neighbors.

“We must learn to live with those whose work is different from ours. We must learn to live with those who worship in ways foreign to us. There is one God, and he is concerned about all of us, no matter how we choose to honor him. He wants us to prosper, wants us to get along with each other, but first he wants us to respect the land. We must always remember that the land comes first. We must learn how to take care of the land or we all shall perish.”

When Oscar finished, the group clapped loudly. Several people had questions, and Oscar, staying in his role as Increase Joseph, answered them.

“What religious denomination did you belong to?”

“We called ourselves the Standalones, meaning we were independent of all other organized religions,” said Oscar.

“How did you travel to Wisconsin?”

“By steamboat on the Great Lakes and then overland by wagon after we reached Sheboygan,” answered Oscar.

Henrietta interrupted, “To stay on time, we must move on.” The group next arrived at the grave site of Henry Bakken, the editor of Link Lake's first newspaper, the
Link Lake Gazette.
Billy Baxter, the middle-aged and balding editor of the
Ames County Argus
, wearing a striped vest, as Bakken had always done, took the role of the village's first editor. When people were all gathered, Baxter began:

“My name is Henry Bakken, and I came with Increase Joseph Link from Plum Falls, New York, arriving in the wilds of Wisconsin in 1852. I started the village's first newspaper, which everyone in the community read and enjoyed. Increase Joseph and I were good friends—we traveled throughout Wisconsin as Increase Joseph spread his message of taking care of the land. We traveled to the far corners of this great state, to the wheat growing areas and to where the great pine trees grew. We learned of the Underground Railroad and aided its mission of helping black slaves travel to Canada in the late 1850s. We visited Peshtigo during the time when the great fire killed so many of their citizens in 1871. Increase Joseph Link was a great friend, a great preacher, and a man of the land.”

Once more a rousing round of applause as the group moved on to the next grave site, that of Fred and Barbara Jones, the original owners and operators of the Link Lake Supper Club and the parents of Marilyn Jones, current owner of the supper club. Fred Russo played the role of Fred; Emily was Barbara Jones.

“My name is Fred Jones, and I was born in 1919,” began Fred Russo, who was dressed in a suit and tie. “My wife, Barbara, and I,” Fred gestured toward Emily, who was standing next to him, “opened the Link Lake Supper Club in 1955. She will tell you something about the history of the supper club, which was not much to look at in 1955 and had been closed for several years when we bought it. Barbara and I had vacationed in Link Lake before buying the supper club. In fact we were married in Increase Joseph Community Park in 1943—in the midst of World War II. Both of our daughters, Gloria, who was born in 1944, and Marilyn, who was born in 1954, helped us at the supper club. Unfortunately we had a family squabble in 1966 and Gloria moved to California. Marilyn continued working with us and took over the operation of the supper club in 1973, after we were both killed in a car accident. At the time of our deaths, I was 54 and Barbara was 53. We were both active in the Link Lake Historical Society from the time we moved here in 1955 until the time of our deaths. And now, let's hear from my wife, Barbara, to learn her side of the story.”

Emily, wearing a skirt and a smart navy-blue blazer, looked out over the crowd. She began in her characteristic loud voice, “I was born in Chicago in 1920, and, like Fred and his family, we vacationed here in Link Lake when we were kids. It was here in Link Lake that I met Fred, and as he has pointed out, we were married right here in Link Lake, in front of the famous Trail Marker Oak.

“After we married we kept coming here on vacation, and we remember driving by an old building located right on the lake, an interesting looking building, but badly in need of repair. We stopped at the Link Lake Historical Museum and there met Emily Higgins, who told us the history of the old dilapidated building. Emily was in her early twenties at the time and a volunteer at the museum store, if I remember correctly. She explained that the old building had been a tavern, a roadhouse, and stagecoach stop on the way from Waupaca to Willow River. Once we learned of its rich history, we decided to buy the place, restore it, and turn it into a supper club. The supper club is steeped in history—more than most people know. Fred and I enjoyed our years at the supper club, and we especially enjoyed living in Link Lake, which is so rich with history.”

Emily bowed deeply and everyone clapped. The tour continued, recognizing several other Link Lake citizens, each depicted by a current member of the historical society. The walk took more than an hour, as the three groups visited each site. When everyone had visited all of the sites, the entire group got together once more. Henrietta passed around a bucket into which those attending were encouraged to offer a donation. She thanked everyone for coming and invited them to come to the Link Lake bank robbery reenactment, which was planned for May. Then she said everyone was welcome to enjoy apple cider and cookies at the Link Lake Historical Museum.

9

S
omewhat in response to his doctor's admonition to slow down, Ambrose had plowed and planted only five acres of oats this year. In past years he had put in ten acres. Now in May, with the oat crop up and growing, he worked at planting his garden; this time both his dog, Buster, and Ranger, the raccoon, were with him, “helping” him with the job at hand.

“Well, fellows, what's going to sell well in the vegetable stand this year?” he asked. Both animals looked at him like they understood the question. He planted a long row of radishes, another long row of leaf lettuce, and ten rows of potatoes—three of early red ones, and the rest of late potatoes. Ambrose had started about fifty tomato plants from seed back in late March, and he would hold off setting out the tomatoes until the end of the month, when he was reasonably sure that a late frost wasn't still up Mother Nature's sleeve.

After lunch and an hour's nap, Ambrose and his “helpers” were once more out in the garden continuing to plant cabbages, broccoli, sweet corn— three different varieties that would mature at different times—a long row of sunflowers, and an equally long row of ornamental corn, which always sold well. He would hold off on planting squash, cucumbers, and pumpkins until he set out the tomatoes. These vine crop seeds always germinated so much better when the soil was warmer.

As Ambrose worked in his garden, the question of his long-held secret nagged at him. “Okay, you guys. When do I let the world know that old Ambrose Adler isn't the strange, out-of-date, stuttering farmer that everyone thinks he is?” Buster wagged his tail, and Ranger held out his paws, as he often did when Ambrose talked to him.

“So you don't know either?” asked Ambrose. “How will I know when the time is right? I may not have that much time left.” Buster continued wagging his tail, and Ranger looked straight at Ambrose. Ambrose bent over and petted both the dog and the raccoon.

“Well, if we're gonna finish planting this garden today, we'd better get back at it,” said Ambrose. The two animals continued watching as Ambrose worked under the warm May sun.

10

O
n a bright and sunny early May day, Marilyn sat in her office at the supper club, thinking back to when she first began running the place. She remembered so well the day her life changed completely: it was September 25, 1973, and she was a sophomore at Ripon College. As she left the lecture room that Tuesday morning, her roommate, Jesse, met her at the door. “Someone from the main office just called and said you should stop by the office as soon as possible.”

Marilyn immediately wondered what she had done wrong. She knew that she had been partying a little too much, and that her grades weren't much above a C average. But what had she done to trigger a summons to the main office “as soon as possible”?