Plymouth’s Oldest Resident

by Anita Boetsma | Dec 11, 2025 | Plymouth, Visitor Stories & Oral Histories

Norman S. Woodward was 83 years old on December 11, 1911. He had lived in Plymouth for longer than anyone else at that time. A Weekly Republican reporter asked him “How does it feel to be 83?” “Oh, I have no reason to complain” was his reply. The interview that followed was full of stories about the earliest days of Marshall County. I will share just a few.

Mr. Woodward was known to have a mind “as bright as a silver dollar” and was frequently asked to settle disputes dating back before formal records were kept in Marshall County. He knew the given names and initials of men who lived back in the 1830s and 1840s. He knew the first officers of the county, things in the city, the cemeteries, the politics, the markets, the money used, and the facts of every character.

“I came to Plymouth on May 1, 1835, with my father and uncle,” said Mr. Woodward. “I was then only six years old, but I remember everything as distinctly as though it were yesterday.” At the time there were only five houses in the town without a name. Chester Rose ran a little store on the site at the corner of what is now Center and LaPorte Streets. Grove Pomeroy had the hotel at 101 N. Michigan. The hotel housed the Yellow River Post Office. Mail came once a week via horseback carrier, on a route that ran from Logansport to Niles, MI.

At that time, the county was unorganized and there were only a few white people among the many Indians. Five miles north, the first house belonged to Peter Schroeder, who was later elected the first probate judge in Marshall County. A half mile further north lived Adam Vinnedge, the first county treasurer. As Mr. Woodward states, “These people were curious to see us as we were Yankees, having moved to Indiana from Vermont. My uncle and father traded a wagon and some of their horses for 80 acres of Michigan Road lands.”

“In August of that year was the great Government land sale at LaPorte. Uncle and father went there to buy land. They went nearly to LaPorte before they saw a white man. At the Kankakee River the bridge was gone all but the stringers. Father and Uncle had their money in French francs and Mexican dollars, and it was quite a burden. The problem of crossing the Kankakee on stringers was a hard one. My father got across with his money, but Uncle could not do it. Father came back and got Uncle’s money and carried it across. Still Uncle could not make it. Father then saw a boat downstream. Leaving the money on the bank, he went and got the boat and took Uncle across. They bought their land for $1.25 an acre. Our home then became the farm now located just a half-mile north of the Brightside Orphanage on the west side of the road.”

“It is hard today to understand the hardships of that time,” said Mr. Woodward. “There was no food, no money, no market for anything if there had been anything to sell. My father went twenty-one miles beyond Logansport to Delphi to get grain ground for corn meal. That was the closest mill. Near there we bought some white corn and had it ground, but they did not “bolt” the meal then as hey do now, and mother had to sift it.” Bolting refers to a machine that had spinning screens that sifts the grain. He continues, “We had some cows, and hogs ran wild and fattened on the nuts in the forest. These pigs were shot for meat and game of all kind was plentiful. Neighbors would kill a beef at different times and divide with each other, trading back and forth. There was no market closer than Michigan City where we hauled our wheat. The price was 31 cents a bushel and later we got 40 cents. In a few years there was a mill at Bertrand, a mile north of South Bend, and people hauled their wheat there to be ground.”

Marshall County's First Election

“The first election was in the fall (1836) to organize the county. They called the town “Plymouth” after the New England Plymouth Rock. All the people of the county voted at Plymouth, though one could vote at any place he could find a voting place. I watched them vote. A man would come to the voting place and be asked how he wanted to vote. He would tell the name of his candidate, and the vote would be written down by the clerk. There were 83 votes in Center Township. In those days it was about an even split between the Whigs and the Democrats.

“A.L. Wheeler was the first man to run a real dry goods and general merchandise store. In the back part of his store were pails of New England rum for voters. In the rum had been put some “Black-strap” molasses, and all who wished, boys as well as men, could go there and drink. But there was never any drunkenness. It seemed that the human system needed whiskey to kill off the malaria so prevalent in those early days, and it being pure whiskey, did not affect them as now.

“The courthouse was at first a small wooden building located where Welcome Miller now resides on Michigan Street. The present site was donated to the county and that is the reason the building stands where it does today.

“On the present site of the Washington School building was the first cemetery. When they wanted to build the schoolhouse, they moved the bodies and made a new cemetery on the spot now occupied by the Pennsylvania Depot. When the railroad came to Plymouth, it passed directly through this cemetery and the bodies were again taken up and moved to the Stringer Cemetery and the present Oak Hill. My father was buried in the cemetery when it was located at the Pennsylvania Depot site.”

Woodward Joins the Gold Rush

In 1852, Woodward joined the thousands of daring men who crossed the plains to California, hunting gold. He and his companions made the trip in a wagon pulled by oxen. “We started in March,” said Woodward, “and on April 24 we crossed the Missouri River. At Fort Carney, we saw the first white people. From there it was 500 miles to Fort Laramie, the next white settlement.”

While crossing the plain, the group saw one of the most thrilling sites on their journey – a huge herd of buffalo stretching as far as the eye could see. The travelers let them pass, as it was too dangerous to get in front of them. “I bought two fine black buffalo hides from the Indians,” said Woodward. “They were nicely tanned and splendid ones in every way. I paid two cups of sugar for them.

“In July we arrived in Sacramento City, and there on Jay Street I met Charles Crocker, a Plymouth man, who afterwards become a millionaire gold miner.” For about two years, Woodward and his companions prospected, and during that time they “struck it rich” and were able to come back home with several thousand dollars in gold.

“Nobody trusted the banks in those times,” said Woodward, “so we all carried our money around our bodies in belts. My companions arranged to come home by way of Panama and had chosen the steamer Yankee Blade from San Francisco. Before we started, we met a friend who was also coming home that way and he advised us to take the steamer Sonora instead, because, he said, there is going to be racing between the boats and it is dangerous to go on the Yankee Blade. We took his advice and luckily so, for the Yankee Blade struck a rock and went down with all aboard on that very trip.

“Arriving at Panama, the ship came to anchor three miles out to sea and natives in boats came and took us within ten feet of the shore, where they stopped, and naked natives came and carried us ashore on their backs. There were 1400 on the boat.

“The first seven miles of the way across the isthmus was as fine as a paved road as I ever saw. Bolivar had made it when the Spaniards were in control, from the pebbles of the seashore. The railroad covered only 25 of the 50 miles across the isthmus, and we had to walk the rest of the way. In rained continuously. Finally, we came to the railway, a little narrow gauge one, but only about 600 of us could get on the train. The conductor promised to come back the next day, however, and take us. He came on the third day, and we were soon at the seashore. Here, the hundreds of passengers went pell mell over each other to see who could be the first to the ship and get the best berths. There was no order or direction of the passengers. Everybody took the best he could get.

“An awful storm overtook our vessel off of Cape Hatteras, and for many hours we saw our ship climb up and down the monster waves, expecting every one to go over her and send us to the depths of the sea. She rode it out however, but even after repairs in dock, sprung a leak on her next voyage and went down with a third of her passengers.”

Personal Life

While in San Francisco, Mr. Woodward met Henry Humrichouser, who would later become his brother-in-law, and they made the trip home together. Mr. Woodward was back in Plymouth in 1854. He became smitten with his friend’s sister, Miss Elizabeth Hunrichouser when she visited from Ohio. They were married on September 1, 1855. In the spring of that same year, he and H.B. Pershing started a drug store on the spot where Tanner’s drug store was at 122 N. Michigan Street. After a year, Mr. Woodward sold his share of the drug store to Mr. Pershing. He then started the first bakery in Plymouth at 106 N. Michigan Street. “One of those who worked for me at that time was H.W. Hill,” said Mr. Woodward. “But I was not long in the business for in March 1856 the whole town burned down, and my business with it.”

He continues “After this I bought the lot where the Star Restaurant is now (116 N. Michigan Street) and opened a little grocery store. In 1857, the Pittsburgh railway was being built through and I sold much supplies to the men. But the company went broke and could not pay its hands, so I could not get my pay, and bankruptcy stared me in the face. The company, however, agreed to pay its men in stock of the railroad. Mr. A.L. Wheeler came to me and said for me to take all the stock I could get from the men, and he would give me 25 cents on the dollar. I did so, and got much of it, paying 20 cents on the dollar. Some of it I kept, but most of it I turned over to Wheeler because I had to have money to buy goods with. Later this stock went up to $1.55 on the hundred and I sold all I had at that price, which made me a neat sum to continue my business. Wheeler, who had a large amount of the stock, sold it at the same price, and made a barrel of money out of it.”

The firm of Hewitt & Woodward built the first brick block in Plymouth at 113 N. Michigan Street, currently the home of Wild Rose Moon. It was three stories high and considered a fine structure. Fire destroyed it in 1866 and the firm lost $15,000, as the insurance company went broke. After the fire, Mr. Woodward rebuilt the entire block.

He was successful in the sawmill and lumber business as well in the firm of Woodward, Oglesbee & Co. He was also in the grain business with Henry G. Thayer. He became a partner in the reorganization of the First State Bank that occupied one of his buildings. The bank was successful for many years and sold to Theodore Cressner in about 1867. After a varied and successful business career, Mr. Woodward retired in 1891.

Mr. Woodward Attends the Lincoln Convention

Early on, Mr. Woodward was a Democrat, but later became a Republican. In 1860 he attended the great Lincoln Convention in Chicago as an alternate delegate. He remembers every detail of what he calls “the most wonderful convention ever held.

“I remember when they brought in the rails and put them on the platform,” said Mr. Woodward. “I remember the moment when Lincoln was nominated. The convention went wild. Hats filled the air and yells were deafening. I assure you there has never been another such convention and probably never will be.”

The rails referred to by Mr. Woodward were symbolic wooden rails carried onto the convention floor. Lincoln was cast as a “rail-splitter,” a home-spun hero full of prairie wit and folk wisdom. People did not see Lincoln as a life-long politician and corporate lawyer with a decent income.

On March 3, 1904, Elizabeth Woodward died at Age 69. She is buried in Oakhill cemetery. 10 years later, in 1913, Mr. Woodward decided to leave Plymouth to live with some of his children, although he kept in contact with his Plymouth friends.

In 1915, he wrote “I am glad to say to all my friends that I am in splendid health and not dependent physically or financially on anyone. I transact most of my own business and hope it will be many years before I am incapacitated.

“I send greeting and good cheer to all of you, and though I am eighty-eight years old I trust the good Lord will spare me many years before I am called to Plymouth to my final resting place. God bless and protect all of you. Very sincerely yours, N.S. Woodward.”

Sadly, Norman S. Woodward died on November 27, 1916, succumbing to apoplexy while taking his morning walk. His obituary ran front and center in the Republican newspaper. Mr. Woodward returned to Plymouth for the final time and was laid to rest next to his wife in Oakhill Cemetery.

Visit the Museum from 10:00 am until 4:00 pm, Tuesday through Saturday to learn about early Marshall County or research your own family. The Museum is located at 123 N. Michigan St., Plymouth. Call us at 574-936-2306.

Hunting Tales

by Anita Boetsma | Nov 25, 2025 | Bourbon, Pastimes, Plymouth

With the annual hunting season in full swing, it’s time to look at hunting tales from long ago from the archives at the Marshall County Historical Society. Documents tell us: “The tradition of the last bear that was shot in Marshall County, comes from the lips of John Thomas, who is as familiar with the unwritten history hereabouts for the last 40 years as a draft horse is with the four corners of his feed box.” said John Thomas.

“In the winter of 1865,” says Thomas, “a number of bears wandered down from the woods of Wisconsin and terrified cattle and farmers throughout Northern Indiana. This particular bear was a huge black fellow and had been seen in various parts of the county before he met his doom. I had just come home from town when the women folks ran to meet me and said they had seen the much-dreaded animal run across a field. I rushed to the house but found the hired man had taken the gun before me and started in pursuit. Going to the neighbors, I borrowed another gun, mounted my horse and galloped away on the trail. When I came up to the Whaley place on the Wolf Creek Road, I found the two boys in a very excited mood. They had just shot the bear. They told me that their father had gone to town, and they had been left at home to feed the pigs. Suddenly one of the yelled, ‘See that pig on the fence!’ The other one looked. Sure enough there was a pig on the fence. But a pig on the fence was absurd. When they took a better look, they saw the supposed pig was a bear. A gun was brought from the house and inside of two minutes the big brute lay dead upon the ground. Many hunters arrived in time to help gloat over the victory. The hide was sold to Jepeth Disher, who paid $8 for it. It was afterward worked up into a fine robe.” Plymouth Democrat – July 31, 1902

“The latest diversion of Bourbon men of affairs is that of racoon hunting. The town, that is the sporting part, is now in the throes of a revival of the art of hunting the animals, that in the early days was a favorite pastime. Whether it is a case of heredity, just now cropping out of the fourth generation, we have no means of knowing, but there is one thing certain, the craze has hit the town hard. As far as we have been able to learn Jonas Rettinger is the only one who has, in the years past, kept up the sport enough to not forget its requirements. Later Samuel Lemlar, Phillip Steinman and Arch Myers formed a company (limited) and purchased a hound after they had sold the one Sam had owned to Rettinger. Lemler then purchased another hound and his deep sonorous voice had been sending cold chills up and down Mr. Racoon’s spine with painful regularity. When Harl Stewart got the fever, he purchased another dog, and the old days of gentlemen following the hounds is returning. Lemler, Myers & Steinman gave a racoon feast at the Vernette & Fretz restaurant Wednesday evening, and the smacking of lips told the tale, as their friends passed in and out. Harl Stewart and Otis Thacker went Friday night and so far, hold the palm of good catches. They secured three large, fat young racoons and a skunk. And the beauty of the whole thing is that the skunk wasn’t quick enough to use his defense.” Bourbon News-Mirror – November 28, 1907

Introducing the Balcony Building

by Anita Boetsma | Nov 17, 2025 | Disasters, Plymouth

Some of the buildings in Marshall County’s cities and towns have quite an interesting history. They have changed ownership, of course, but some have even changed size and shape! A good example we have covered previously is the REES Theatre. It went from a three-story, three-bay Italianate structure to a two-story, two-bay Art Deco one.

The subject of this article is the “Balcony Building” at 113-115 N. Michigan Street, now the home of Aldridge Diagnostic Medicine and the Wild Rose Moon. Since it was built in 1866, it has undergone some pretty drastic transformations.

This Italianate building was built with three floors, two store front bays and an iron balcony between the second and third floors. Thus, it became known as the “Balcony Building.” Ironically, it lost its balcony sometime during its early lifetime but held on to the moniker for a good many years.

First Occupants of the Balcony Building

Apparently, the north store front bay was first occupied by Freese & Behrens, a dry goods and notions store, with a grocery on the south side. The second floor housed business offices, a millinery (hat-making) shop and perhaps even a living quarters. The third floor housed Balcony Hall, a performance venue with a stage. The building was constructed according to the latest city ordinances requiring brick fire walls and the most modern lighting and heating systems, enacted after a catastrophic downtown fire destroyed most of the remaining wooden frame buildings earlier that year.

When Simon Becker, a subsequent long-term tenant, left for Argos in 1878 the building changed hands several more times, housing a “dry goods and fancy goods” store, a drug store, and a grocery store on the north side, and Bunnell & Son Furniture & Undertaking on the south.

Political Address Outside

Distinguished visitor William Jennings Bryant, known as the “American Commoner” and leader of the Democratic Party, spoke to a huge crowd in front of the Balcony Building in 1906. A platform was erected in the street and people from all over the county gathered to hear him speak for 40 minutes. According to reports, however, strong winds, crowd noise and no modern sound system made it hard for most people to even hear the speech.

William Jennings Bryan’s address, October 24, 1906.

Right around this time, the building became the property of Frank W. Bosworth and his wife Mabel. The couple’s two daughters, Esther and Muriel, eventually inherited the property, and that is how the building got passed down to its current owner, George Schricker. George is the great nephew of Esther and grandson of Muriel. You might have noticed the upper floor – now apartments – are named the William Jennings Bryan Suites.

Fire Devastates the Balcony Building

Then in 1927, Charles Glaub moved his ‘cash and carry’ grocery into the building. Before this innovation, grocery stores often operated a bit like warehouses – customers would choose items they wanted, employees would find and pack the items, and then the order would be delivered to the customer’s home or business with the bill being paid at the end of the month. A three-way partnership, consisting of Mrs. Anna Glaub & sons, Chuck & Walter, was formed in 1938 due to the death of Charles H. Glaub.

Interestingly, a few years after Mr. Bunnell moved across the street, the A&P Grocery & Meats moved into the south bay, creating side-by-side grocery stores in the same building. And that is the way it was at the time of the November 27, 1946 fire that engulfed the third floor of the building.

The Moose Lodge met on the third floor, G&G Grocery occupied the north bay, and A&P Grocery occupied the south. The Knights of Columbus also met upstairs. The theory about the fire was that a Moose left a cigar burning. (Now there is a word picture!) The third floor was a total loss and had to be removed. The demolition took with it the ornate Italianate cornice. It is a testimony to the brick structures that the neighboring buildings, and even the lower floors were not severely damaged. G&G remained in the building until they relocated in 1953. In 1954 Derf Jewelers moved into the north bay, and at about the same time Lord’s Dress Shop took over the south bay.

Moose Lodge fire ignites the balcony building, November 27, 1946.

Post-Fire

In subsequent years, several businesses moved in and out of the building, and it underwent significant renovation. Today it houses the Wild Rose Moon on the north side and Aldridge Diagnostic Medicine on the south side.

Are you curious about other buildings in the county? Let us know! We love doing research. If you are more interested in researching a topic of your own, the Marshall County Historical Society Research Library has LOTS of resources. Come in Tuesday – Saturday, 10 a.m. to 3:45 p.m. and our research specialists can get you pointed in the right direction.

Dredging the Yellow River

by Anita Boetsma | Nov 12, 2025 | General History, Plymouth, Yellow River

In 1909, Supreme Court of Indiana had ruled in favor of the farmers and cleared the way for the Yellow river to be dredged. This article has been edited from the Plymouth Tribune, December 8, 1910.

Working Around the Clock

Progress on the work of dredging the Yellow river is being completed much faster than was anticipated, either by those who let the contract for the work, or by those who are executing the task. Slightly over one lineal mile of the river’s bed has already been completely dredged since the start of the work on November 9th. Approximately 41,300 cubic yards of earth have been taken from the bed of the river within this mile. An average excavation of seven feet in depth is made in the river’s bottom, extending to a width of fifty-five feet at the bottom. The dredge is located at a point slightly over seven miles east of Plymouth and at the rate of progress now being made, County Surveyor Percy J. Troyer estimates that the dredge will reach the city within eight months and will complete the entire route in fifteen months.

The fire under the boiler of the great dredge is never allowed to go out, and in order to cheat winter and the coming freeze of the river as much as possible, the large crane and bucket are never still. Day and night without pause the dredge and its gang is at work. The outfit has its own electrical plant that illuminates the surroundings sufficiently to carry on the work at night. A gang of twelve men is employed, six on each shift, working twelve hours each. The dredge is in charge of W. A. Schultz of Milwaukee, a member of the dredging firm that has the contract to widen, deepen and straighten the Yellow river for eleven miles of its course, from the point eight miles upstream to three miles below Plymouth.

The Mill Dam in Plymouth prior to dredging the Yellow River and removing the dam, ca 1912

The Mechanism Behind Dredging a River

The first change in the course of the river will begin later part of this week. This cut is known as the Nunemaker Cut and will consist of diverting the course of the stream across the ends of a “U” shaped bend. Instead of flowing around the bend, the river will be made to cut across the ends. As a result, all of the land enclosed in the bend, besides the old bed of the river itself, will be reclaimed for farming proposes, as the old bed will be drained by the deeper bed in the new course. The Nunemaker Cut will consist of a lineal cut of 1200 feet, and will necessitate an enormous excavation of earth, as the new riverbed will be laid seven feet lower than the present bed, and as stated above, will be fifty-five feet wide at the bottom. It is estimated that this cut will require somewhat over two weeks. There are two or three more such cuts to be made in the course of the Yellow River dredge.

A wonderful sight might have been witnessed at the work site on Thanksgiving Day, when a feat of engineering skill was executed by the dredge. The sixty-five-foot steel bridge, weighing 12 tons, which spanned the river at that point, was lifted from its abutments, swung around, and deposited upon the bank of the river. The scene of the steel bridge in midair with several workmen standing on the structure to preserve its balance was a novel one, and served to show the power, size and effectiveness of the great dredge. The bridge was bound to the beam of the dredge by steel cables, men were stationed along the floor of the bridge and at the word, the beam was raised. The bridge had to be removed in order to let the dredge pass down the river. After the river had been widened to the required dimensions at this point, the dredge was found to be too short to span the river and the steel structure is still reposing on the bank of the river, seven miles east of town. This bridge is a familiar sight to the boys of the city, many of whom have boasted of skating up to the seven-mile bridge.

Missing Pieces

Of course, we now want to know when and how the bridge was replaced on its abutments, and did it have to be lengthened? Unfortunately, our records do not provide those answers, nor is there any further mention of the bridge sitting beside the river.

Spooky Marshall County

by Anita Boetsma | Oct 29, 2025 | LaPaz, Plymouth, Visitor Stories & Oral Histories

The following tales are just a taste of spooky Marshall County. Most of the stories are told as they were written long, long ago.

“The neighborhood two miles east of Lapaz is all stirred up over a ghost story, which is vouched for by a number of persons to be fact. Millian Crum and Nathan Crothers were passing the U.B. church in the Berger vicinity several nights ago, and a figure in a white shroud appeared in front of the church and waved its arms. The movement of the white object also frightened their horse, which ran some distance before the animal could be stopped. Charles Charleston who passed the church at an early hour in the morning also claims to have seen a ghost. The story has caused no little talk in the neighborhood. Samuel Thomas who is not afraid of ‘fire or brimstone’ proposes to investigate the affair and will visit the place with a party of men on Saturday night. Mr. Thomas is of the opinion it is a joke being played by some boys to create a sensation and will make an effort to capture the ghost.” From The Bremen Enquirer, May 11^th, 1900.

The Higbee Corner Tavern maintained a good reputation. No doubt there was drinking there, and many intoxicated travelers stopped there, but that did not make a place tough in those days. However, the Thompson Tavern did not have a good reputation and was deserted by the time the Higbee Tavern became popular. It was then known as the “Haunted House.” The story is told that when this old tavern was deserted, cattle and pigs used to roam at will in and out of the open doors. One stormy night the pigs had taken refuge in the old building. Two men were passing there that night, and the one who was the least drunk dared the other one to go into the “Haunted House.” With much bravado, increased by the stimulant which they had had, they reeled in through the open door and stumbled over the pigs. The disturbed pigs made so much noise that the intruders started to run, to get away from the “ghosts,” and never stopped until they reached the Higbee Tavern. Written in 1940 in a memoir by Francis Emerson.

The September 1, 1910, issue of The Plymouth Democrat reported that Henry Kelver had a “thrilling experience” on Dixon Lake. He was in the middle of the lake when he saw a dark looking object in the distance approaching his boat. “The water parted into waves on either side of the object as it came nearer…its head looked like that of a big black dog and its eyes snapped ferociously. Just below the blue water of the surface was a big black form, about the size of a wheelbarrow and there seemingly were a hundred pairs of legs wiggling and paddling beneath it. Within two or three rods of the boat the monster turned, dove and disappeared.”

“A terrible murder was committed two miles south of this place on Sunday night last. The circumstances that led to the horrible deed were about as follows: About 4 o’clock Sunday afternoon two men, aged about 30 years, called at the house of Mr. Mikel Hisey and requested to stay until after the rain, which was falling. After sitting in the house about an hour they started to leave. One of the men was of medium size and tolerably well dressed, and the other larger and very rugged. Mr. Hisey thought no more about them until in the morning in passing an old house used for a stable, he heard someone groaning, and going in and up on the loft, where he had some hay, he found the better dressed man with three gashes cut in his head through the skull, and the brains oozing out. The man had been stripped of pants and coat and left with nothing on but shirt, vest, and boots. The boots were both made for one foot. The instrument used to accomplish the deed was a cutter from a shovel plow. Medical aid was summoned, but nothing could be done for the man. He was beyond help, and, of course, could not speak to tell of the deed. He died during the day; nothing being left by which he could be identified. His companion no doubt had done the deed. It is supposed the murderer took the train at Argos, going south, as a man answering the description, with black pants too short by several inches, was seen getting on the train in the morning. Mr. Hisey thinks they were carrying a small bundle when at his house. All possible steps are being taken to secure the arrest of the murderer.” From the October 2, 1873, Plymouth Democrat.

Accomplishments of WPA in Marshall County

by Anita Boetsma | Oct 29, 2025 | Argos, Culver, General History, Parks, Plymouth

In our U.S. history classes most of us gained a passing acquaintance with President Franklin Delano Roosevelt and his Works Progress Administration program that helped Depression-era workers get back to earning a paycheck. The projects were wide ranging geographically as well as in type. Everything from buildings to bridges were constructed or improved. WPA workers built roads, dams and hatcheries, just to name a few. Below is an article published in the June 5, 1940, edition of the Culver Citizen about the impact the WPA had on Marshall County. It has been lightly edited to improve readability.

The Works Progress Administration constructed eight new buildings, reconstructed or improved five others and paved or improved 78.5 miles of highways, roads and streets, according to a survey released today by John K. Jennings, state administrator. Jennings said the survey was the first all-inclusive one to be made of WPA accomplishments in Marshall County. It includes all major projects since the start of the work-relief agency in August 1935. The survey said that a total of 729 Marshall County men and women who lost their jobs in private industry have been given WPA work-relief at one time or another.

Almost all the WPA roadwork centered on improving farm-to-market roads, of which 71.8 miles were bettered. In city street and alley work, the WPA improved a total of 4.1 miles. Of that, it laid new paving on 2.3 miles.

The WPA constructed a new warehouse for the Plymouth City Hall, a bathhouse at Culver, a hatchery clubhouse (Isaac Walton Leaugue), a barn at Magnetic Park in Plymouth and one other building at the same park (Conservation Clubhouse). In reconstruction and improvement work, the WPA bettered the Marshall County Courthouse, highway garage, jail and infirmary (Shady Rest Home). It improved the school at Inwood, Lincoln High School Athletic Field, Culver Park, Bremen Cemetery, and Huff Cemetery in German Township.

Isaac Walton League Clubhouse in Argos, IN.

In miscellaneous construction work, WPA employees built a dam at Plymouth having a storage of 300 acre-feet, the Magnetic Park fish hatchery which now has a capacity of 10,000 fingerlings, and the Argos Fish Hatchery with a capacity of 375,000 fingerlings annually. Magnetic Park, 17 acres, and Centennial Park, 35-acres, both in Plymouth, also received improvements.

Throughout Marshall County, WPA workers reconstructed or improved 26 steel bridges measuring 2,356 feet, improved 352 miles of roadside drainage, paved 4.8 miles of sidewalks and paths, laid 7.7 miles of curbs and seven-tenths of a mile of gutters.

In the utilities and sanitation field, the WPA laid 2.2 miles of water mains, aqueducts, and distribution lines, installed 5.8 miles of storm and sanitary sewers, made 19 sewerage connections and dug 221 manholes and catch basins. Nearly 1,200 sanitary privies were erected by the WPA. (These privies had concrete slabs and vaults and were considered more sanitary. They were nicknamed “Eleanors” due to Eleanor Roosevelt’s support for the program.)

More than 2,300 feet of retaining walls and revetments were constructed. One new airplane landing field was built on which runways totaling 5,280 feet were laid. In the professional and service division, WPA workers renovated 2,232 books, turned out 15,183 garments from sewing projects, and completed 5,490 items other than garments such as mattresses, quilts, etc. The sewing products were given to the needy.

The impact of the Works Progress Administration on Marshall County and its residents can hardly be overstated. If you want to know more about the WPA in Marshall County, come into the Marshall County Historical Society. Our research specialists will be happy to help! We are open from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday.

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