Entertainment in the Good Old Days

Entertainment in the Good Old Days

Long before the entertainment overload of today, Marshall County youth had some interesting ways of creating their own fun. They did have theaters, but much of the time, they relied on simple things dictated by what was at hand, our location and the weather. The following collection is from oral histories in our archives.

Performing Arts

“The Orpheum Theater cost a nickel. It was on, oh, just a little way north of Washington Street on Michigan, where the old Orpheum was. They’d have Saturday afternoon matinees for a nickel.  And there were shows, there were some outside shows, tent shows, down on, in the area where the fire station parking lot is now, on the corner of LaPorte and Center Street, just a block south of the library.”  Stanley Brown

Large group of children posing for image on snowy day

The Orpheum Theatre in Plymouth, Indiana.

“About playing piano for the silent movies in Plymouth – When I played, I played for the big sum of $3.00 a week, and six nights a week, 7:00 to 10:00 on the weekdays. On Saturday nights it was seven ‘til 11:00, and it was nickel shows, you know, every night, and we had songs. They used to have sing-a-song, you know, and the words, and the little ball would bounce up. And I’d play for that, and that song came along with the film. We had a girl or boy, a singer, and that was all they done, was sing that song at every show.”  Etta Steiner

 “We had travelling stage shows quite often. They would come and book a week’s time at the opera house.”  Beatrice Pickerl

Seasonal Fun

“We had sleigh ride parties and bobsled parties.  And on the bobsled parties whenever you went under a streetlight, you got to kiss the girl that you were with.  There were not very many streetlights in those days.”  Morris Cressner

Large group of children posing for image on snowy day

Sleighing party for city kids, 1916.

“You’d listen the first morning of cold weather, the first snowy, icy morning, see if you could hear Uncle J. T.’s sleigh bells. Uncle J. lived north of town (Argos), probably a mile and a half, might be two miles. And Uncle J. always had his sleigh out first, and he was the only person that the children of the town, that I knew best, could go riding with without running home and asking their parents. But if Uncle J. had his sleigh, we would go with him, and he’d take us a very nice fast ride down to the Nickel Plate Railroad.”  Beatrice Pickerl

The Joy In the Everyday

“Used to be a train come in and my brother and different ones would walk over to Tyner to see it come in, and I believe every Friday or Saturday night from South Bend. That was a big thing.  It was called the Cannonball. It would come in at 10:00.  And the depot was right below our house here. That was their entertainment, was to come and watch the Cannonball.”  Ray Jacobson

“They had the old [gas] street lights in Plymouth, and a man had to go around with a long pole and pull them down and light them by hand. He’d put a match to them and put them back up.  Kids at night, after they got that light lit – one of our forms of fun was catching bats. There used to be a lot of bats around. They’d fly around those lights. We’d throw our caps up and every once in a while, we’d get a bat in them.”  Stanley Brown

Black and white image of street corner with three story building and a few people walking by. In the forefront, there is a gas lamp hanging from a wire.

Bourbon street scene with gas street light.

Social Get-Togethers

“What progressed into hockey we called shinny. We used sticks and tin cans.”  Homer Riddle

“We used to have spelling bees at the school house. And we’d spell, and the old people as well as the young would be in that, don’t you know. They’d all stand up and then when you missed a word, you sit down, and then the last one that stayed up got a prize.”  Alta Listenberger

“We used to have box socials. The girls would take a box of food and then they’d auction it off and the boy that bought it, he wouldn’t know whose he’s buying, don’t you know, because they’d decorate these boxes up beautiful. And then the boy that bought them would eat with the girl. He wouldn’t know ‘til he got the box unless she’d tell him or, you know, the girl he liked would tell him which was her box. But otherwise they kept that a secret. Sometimes you’d eat with an old man. I’ve ate with old men, you know, some old farmer, instead of eating with the boy I wanted to eat with because he paid the most for the box.”  Alta Listenberger

Learn more about everyday life in Marshall County by visiting our Museum!

Prohibition and Marshall County

Prohibition and Marshall County

Years before the enactment of the 18th Amendment, many locals were involved in the temperance movement. The temperance movement promoted the ban of alcoholic beverages. There were even organizations dedicated to the cause, such as the Women’s Christian Temperance Union. Members would ask individuals to pledge to vote for anti-saloon politicians. They also called on ‘druggists’ to dole out alcohol by prescription only, visited saloon keepers to ask them to stop selling alcohol and prayed outside saloons.

Feelings were intense on both sides of the debate. On Thursday evening, August 27, 1891, a dynamite cartridge was exploded in the United Brethren Church in Bourbon. Straightaway, the Bourbon Mirror called for a temperance meeting to be held the next day. A large number assembled for the meeting, undeterred.

Tough On Alcohol

Eventually, in 1909, Marshall County voted to go dry, well before Indiana did. When the Wright “Bone Dry” Law in Indiana was passed in 1925, it became one of the toughest prohibition laws in the nation. During Prohibition, the United States Treasury Department authorized physicians to write prescriptions for medicinal alcohol. The “Bone Dry” Law outlawed the possession of all liquor – even by prescription for medicinal purposes, which was allowed under federal law.

Illicit Activity During Prohibition

Even with the strict laws, Marshall County had its own speakeasy. A speakeasy was a secret establishment that sold alcohol illegally during Prohibition. The most notorious use of the Hoham-Klinghammer-Weckerle property in Plymouth occurred during Prohibition. In the 1920s the property was a roadhouse called the Pine Tree Inn. In 1928 officers led what was considered the county’s greatest raid on the roadhouse. Evidence was found that beer was being sold there. Two officers and three deputies went in just before midnight and took patrons by surprise. Officers found “Monte Carlo style gambling and free flowing liquor.” No one attempted to flee, and 35 violators were taken into custody, some from as far away as Ohio. Officers seized 38 cases of beer and found two slot machines.

Large headlines in the Plymouth Daily Pilot on July 30, 1928, read, “14 ARRESTED IN RAID ON LOCAL GAMBLING HOUSE,” with subtitles like “OFFICERS STAGE CLEANUP – MINORS BROUGHT TO COURT.” In large print the newspaper called the event the “COUNTY’S GREATEST RAID.”

One article stated that practically all of the boys and men arrested had brought girl friends with them to spend the evening. Many of the men involved were “prominent in their communities.” The house was leased by Bertha Bozarth from W.J. Hayes of Chicago. Hayes pled innocent of any knowledge of the use of the property. Bozarth was assisted by Robert Wolcotte; both were arrested and charged with operating gaming devices and the possession of intoxicating liquors.

An underground brick vault used to ferment beer
One of two brick vaults at the house constructed underground and used to ferment beer.

The End of The Speakeasy

The paper reported that the business had grown until it became more publicly known, at which time the county prosecutor took steps to investigate. This would assume that the public knew of the illegal activites. Judge Albert B. Chipman of Marshall County then ordered the establishment padlocked for one year. The Plymouth Daily Pilot ran front-page headlines such as “PADLOCKS PINE TREE INN FOR ONE YEAR” and “CHIPMAN ENDS CAREER OF PRETTY LAKE ROADHOUSE.” They stated that the “Pine Tree Inn has come to the end of its short but hectic career.” The padlocking of the establishment included the “brick house and garage, all out buildings, the tunnels (vaults) and the frame house to the west of the brick (house).” A bond was placed on the property for $1,000 stating that only the owner, W. J. Hayes of Chicago, could use the property else.

Bozarth claimed under oath that she paid “protection” money to Justice of the Peace Walter A. Zeroll. After the raid Zeroll left the city in the middle of the night and a warrant was issued for his arrest. A month later Bozarth was found guilty. She was fined $150 and sentenced to 60 days at the Indiana Women’s Reformatory. That was the end of the speakeasy.

The Marshall County Historical Society Museum has an interesting display on Prohibition. Check out our west window on Garro Street to learn more! 

Travelers on the Orphan Train

Travelers on the Orphan Train

In 1892, Plymouth was a stop for an “orphan train” that transported thousands of children. They came from the streets of New York and New England to new homes in the Midwest. From 1854-1929, nearly 4,000 orphans, ranging from ages 1 to 12 were brought to Indiana. All together almost 250,000 “little waifs” climbed aboard the orphan trains and headed west in search of a family. They got off the train with name cards pinned to their clothing. Many were orphaned not only by the death of a parent, but because of poverty and neglect, and would have died on the streets. The image above features the New England Home for Little Wanderers of Boston. Rev. H.S. Kimball, an agent of the home, preaches at the M.E. Church in Argos.

Who Took In Travelers from the Orphan Train?

Children from the orphan trains were placed in homes depending on the needs of prospective adoptive parents. Sometimes their own child had died and they were seeking to expand their family. Some older couples needed someone to look after them, or a farm family needed an extra pair of hands to help with the chores. Some of the agricultural families believed the abandoned children should work to “earn their keep.” Sadly, some siblings went to different homes. The orphans were at the mercy of their adoptive families.

Locally, 26 orphans found permanent homes in Marshall County from the New England Orphan’s Home, although the supply didn’t meet the demand for these kids. “The children were the objects of considerable attention,” according to an edition of the June 1892 Plymouth Democrat. The orphans, gathered at the Methodist church in Plymouth, hoped to win the hearts of a new family. The would-be foster parents could specify exactly what they wanted. For instance, a blue-eyed blonde female, or a sturdy red-headed male. Some orphans were luckier than others. Many were placed loving homes with caring families, but others lived a life of hard farm labor. It seemed a bit callous, but “beggars couldn’t be choosers.” Although every situation was unique, adoption was perceived as better than life on the streets.  

Young boy posing for image with hand on table

The Good and the Bad of Adoption

One of the grown-up orphans that made her home in another state, Jesse Martin, said that being an orphan train rider taught her to have more understanding of people’s pain. She never felt like she fit in. She said the children at school would say, “No one cares for you, not even your own mother!” She says she simply became grateful for the kind people along the way.

Not all these little wanderers had such an unhappy experience. Many found good homes and received the best of care. One particular child caught the eye of a new parent that was grieving from the loss of their own. According to an article from the 1990 Herald Banner, (Greenville, Texas) Helen Hale Vaughn said that her mother would become very angry at anyone who referred to her as their “adoptive” daughter. Whenever Helen would come home broken-hearted, her mother would embrace her and say, “You just remember, we chose you, and they were born to their parents, so they had to have ’em!”  

The Legacy of the Orphan Train and Its Travelers

Some of the orphans given an opportunity for a new life prospered and flourished in their new environment. Many orphan train children went on to live long productive lives and were able to enjoy their grandchildren, and many times great-grandchildren. They weren’t looking for fame and fortune, but a better life and “to love and be loved!” The orphan train provided a means for these children to have the will to go on and made survivors out of them.

For more specific information on the local impact of the orphan train, visit the Marshall County Museum and enjoy the research done by Christopher Chalko who spent time collecting data, newspaper articles and personal letters of people that actually rode the orphan train. It’s interesting reading material that is a part of our history in Marshall County and across the United States.

The Edgerton Basket Factory

The Edgerton Basket Factory

One of the most successful early businesses in Marshall County was the Edgerton Basket Factory. Ease of transportation is critical for growth of trade. And Marshall County, being a crossroads, was attractive to businesses looking for a home. One such was Edgerton Manufacturing, which grew to become the LARGEST BASKET FACTORY in the entire country. Baskets were crucial shipping containers for agricultural products, and Edgerton Baskets were the gold standard.

Peak Volume in 1910

In 1910 alone, 1,632,892 baskets were created. That’s enough baskets to line the road from Niles, MI, to Bloomington, IN, ROUND-TRIP, and still have 45 miles of baskets left over.

At one time, Edgerton offered thirty-nine grades of baskets in 178 different sizes!  Some of these sold as low as thirty cents per dozen, and others as high as $106 per dozen.  This translates to $9.23 to $3,621. per dozen today. There were shipping baskets for fruits, vegetables, crackers, candy and coffee; carrying baskets for coal, lime and cement; round baskets for feeding and cotton picking; reed, splint and diamond weave baskets for clothes; bamboo, splint and diamond weave baskets for delivery, market, display, crockery, satchels or lunch, fancy waste hampers, and all kinds of laundry baskets.

Advertisement for Edgerton Baskets

Local and Imported Woods

The wood varieties used included oak, elm, beech, maple sugar, basswood, poplar, cottonwood, gum, sycamore, ash, hickory and other kinds.  The company imported 55,900 pounds of rattan from Germany at a cost of five cents per pound. Sadly, Edgerton Basket Factory closed their doors in 1939.

Women employed at Edgerton Basket Company

Ahead of Their Time

Edgerton was unusual for its day in that they actively recruited and employed women and offered insurance as an employment benefit. Just one example of some forward thinking by county residents. A child labor law was passed in 1897 and in May Edgerton discharged all those under the age of fourteen.  It was reported that there were less than a dozen under that age.

At the Marshall County Historical Society Museum, we have the “warning whistle” which was sounded before the startup of the main engine so that anyone working on the line-shafting had time to get down safely.  We also have several beautiful examples of Edgerton baskets. Stop at the front desk the next time you visit and ask to see them.

Button, Button, Who’s Got the Button?

Pile of vintage buttons

At the MCHS Museum, we have been delving into our storage areas and taking a compete inventory. Some of the interesting things we find spark the desire to know more about our items. What is the history and usage, and of course, any fun facts about our collections.

Buttons are an ever-present part of our lives. Most of us remember the fun of pouring over the selection in grandma’s button tin. There is something a little charming about old buttons.

The word button is from the French word “bouton,” meaning bud or knob. The oldest button found was in modern day Pakistan. Made of curved shell, it was most likely used for decorative, not utilitarian use.  Francis 1st of France (1494-1547) had 13,600 gold buttons on a single coat, which he wore when meeting King Henry VIII of England.

The more utilitarian use for buttons started in 13th century Germany when the buttonhole was introduced. Button use grew to include fastenings for shoes, tunics, and coats. The fashion at the time was for clothes to be form fitting, so buttons made it easier to fasten the clothing snugly.

As time went by, the variety and value of the material used made buttons a symbol of wealth and prestige. Metalsmiths crafted elaborate buttons with insets of ivory, tortoiseshell, and jewels. In 16th century France, button makers’ guilds started to appear. These guilds regulated the production of buttons and passed laws regarding their use.

Traditionally, men’s garments wrap from the left to right with the button on the right side. This is because most men were right-handed and they dressed themselves, whereas servants dressed wealthy women. Placing the buttons on the left made it easier for the servant facing the buttons while completing the task. Most women were right-handed and held their babies in their left arm to nurse, and access was essential.

Pre-colonial buttons were often made of shell, horn or ivory. Other common buttons were fashioned of bone and wood. These readily available wood buttons were also used as foundations for fabric covered designs. Embroidery was often used to dress up fabric buttons. Examples of these types of buttons are harder to find because of deterioration.

In the 1800s, metal, pearl, and ivory largely replaced fabric as the button material of choice. Pewter was used to make molded or stamped-out buttons. Still popular today, cast brass buttons with ornamental designs were used on both military and civilian dress.

Glass has been used to make buttons since the 18th century in Britain. Black glass buttons were popular during the Victorian era. They were fashioned to imitate the expensive black jet buttons worn by Queen Victoria after the death of her husband, Prince Albert. Most glass buttons made during the 20th century were made by skilled button makers in today’s Czechoslovakia. Between 1918 and 1939 popular styles of glass buttons included pictorial and cut crystal styles.

By the mid-Victorian era, the pearl shell trade had reached its height in London with some 2,000 tons of shells being imported in 1859 from the East. By the 1890s there were over 200 factories and 4,000-5,000 people employed in Birmingham.

In the mid 1800’s, American manufacturer John F. Boepple discovered that the bend of the Mississippi River near Muscatine, Iowa, caused shells to accumulate, creating perfect conditions for mother of pearl making. He began to use the less iridescent freshwater shells found in the area to make his buttons. At production peak over one-third of the world’s pearl shell buttons came from the freshwater mollusk shells from this area.

The pearl shell industry declined during the 20th century partly due to the over-fishing of the pearl shell itself, and the end of the importation of pearl following both world wars. Also affecting the industry was the advent of cheap, mass-produced plastic substitutes.

Button-down collars were invented for an interesting reason. Going for a horseback ride with your shirt collar flapping at your face is annoying, as these collars were originally attached separately. Buttoning the collars in place was a perfect solution, especially for polo players. In 1896, Brooks Brothers offered these as the original polo shirt.

Stop in anytime and see the collections that tell the story of Marshall County.