Tag Archives: Iowa

When Polio Struck

Roy Louis Christian Walsted, the son of Jens and Kathrine (Christensen) Walsted, was just six years old in 1917 when a wave of infantile paralysis, or polio, swept his hometown of Sioux City, Iowa. He became seriously ill; although the details of his experience are not known, polio can cause flu-like symptoms and, in serious cases, muscle weakness and paralysis that can lead to death. Indeed, several deaths had been reported locally—and many more across the state—by the time the Sioux City Journal printed news of Roy’s anticipated recovery:

SICK AND INJURED | Roy Walstead, 6-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. James Walstead, 406 South Helen avenue, Morningside, is expected to recover completely from an attack of infantile paralysis, according to the attending physician. The boy is able to walk alone now and in six months he is expected to have recovered entirely. If recovery is complete it will constitute one of the few cases on record, according to the physician.

Sioux City Journal, 14 September 1917

Roy did recover from his bout of polio, although not completely. His left leg was left shorter than his right, resulting in a lifelong limp, and it has been said that his younger brother—who was born just two months after Roy’s illness was reported in the newspaper—was his defender when he faced bullies. While his impaired gait may have discouraged him from athletic pursuits, local news clippings point to other activities that occupied Roy’s leisure time. In 1925, as he entered his teen years, he was a member of Boy Scouts, and he must also have been devoted to his studies as he made the honor roll at East Junior High School in Sioux City that same year. The following year, when Roy was fourteen, he moved with his family to the Logan Square neighborhood of Chicago where his paternal uncle lived. Roy was confirmed at the Gethsemane Danish Evangelical Lutheran Church, located at 2624 Fairfield Avenue, in June of 1926, when he was fifteen, and he most likely completed his second year of high school the following year before entering the workforce.

*Roy Louis Christian Walsted, confirmation, Chicago, Cook, Illinois, 1926; digital image ca. 2010, privately held by Melanie Frick.*

By the time he was eighteen, Roy had returned to his native Sioux City while his parents and younger brother remained in Chicago. He at first boarded with relatives and within a few years worked his way up from being an office boy at a hardware store to a clerk at the Sioux City Gas & Electric Company. In his spare time, he was active in the Young People’s Society of Our Savior’s Lutheran Church, which conducted its services in Danish, and a 1930 newspaper account reported that he hosted his fellow young congregants at his home at 900 Morningside Avenue. In 1932, as a member of the Sioux City Youth Council, he acted in a biblical drama entitled The Prodigal Son. This was not his only performance that year: he also sang the solo “I Love You Truly” at the twenty-fifth wedding anniversary of his maternal aunt and uncle in Storm Lake, Iowa.

The only sport that Roy was known to have dabbled in as a young man was golf, his name appearing as a participant in a few casual tournaments involving employees of the Sioux City Gas & Electric Company throughout the 1930s. When the time came for him to register for the draft in 1940, the draft card reported that Roy, who was slight of build at five feet eight inches and one hundred twenty-five pounds, had the identifying characteristic of “left leg shorter than right due to Infantile Paralysis.”

Roy married Frances Marie Noehl on 17 January 1934, and their first of seven children was born in Sioux City the following year. Polio outbreaks continued to recur, with nearly one thousand cases reported in Iowa in 1940 and a dramatic peak in 1952 when Iowa saw 3,500 cases, a quarter of which were in Sioux City. Roy and Frances had just welcomed their youngest child in February of that year and they must have been terribly afraid that one or more of their children would be taken ill. Doctors, nurses, and iron lungs were flown to Sioux City in the midst of the outbreak, one of the worst in the nation, and 16,500 children there were part of a gamma globulin vaccine trial that ultimately offered only short-term protection against polio.

However, hope was on the horizon. In 1954, the Salk vaccine trial took place and was deemed a success, and in 1955 the vaccine was made available to the public. The Walsted children were vaccinated at a clinic held at St. Boniface Catholic Church, and fears were finally alleviated.

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Fred the Farmer

Wedding Wednesday: Puffed Sleeves, Revisited

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It has been nearly a decade since I first featured this photograph on Homestead Genealogy, and at that time, I had never seen the original. The old photocopy in my possession was washed out and grainy, the young couple’s faces barely discernible, and the border with the photographer’s mark was not included. When a nearly pristine original made its way to me last year, I was elated: finally, every detail of the 1896 wedding portrait of my great-grandparents Mathias and Elisabeth (Hoffmann) Noehl of North Washington, Chickasaw County, Iowa, could be fully appreciated, and, in addition, the photographer’s mark offered a new clue about the couple’s lives as newlyweds.

Mathias Noehl and Elisabeth (Hoffman) Noehl, St. Peter, Nicollet County, Minnesota, 1896; digital image 2023, privately held by Melanie Frick, 2024. Courtesy of Richard Buscher (1933-2023).

In this photograph, Elisabeth, with dark hair and eyes and full brows that would be the envy of many young women of today, gazes steadily into the distance, her right hand on her husband’s shoulder and her left holding what is likely a Catholic prayerbook. Her dark dress boasts the elegantly puffed sleeves so popular in the mid-1890s, and a floor-length veil is affixed to the back of her head. A substantial floral arrangement is perched atop her head, cascading over her forehead, while smaller floral sprigs are fastened to her collar and her gathered bodice. These may well have been wax flowers, and appear to be orange blossoms, which were a popular choice for bridal wreaths. Elisabeth, who had immigrated to America from Germany at the age of twenty, had celebrated her twenty-seventh birthday less than a week prior to her marriage.

Mathias, blond and with a fair complexion, gazes in the opposite direction as his bride, his posture upright but casual as he poses seated in a wicker chair, one elbow resting on the arm. He wears a dark suit and vest with a white shirt and necktie, and a floral corsage has been attached to the front of his jacket. What may be a watch chain peeks out underneath. Mathias wears his hair short and has a full mustache; like Elisabeth, his expression is serious. Twenty-eight years old, Mathias had by that point spent a decade in America after emigrating from his native Germany.

Years later, he wrote of his meeting with Elisabeth:

“One day I was standing in front of the house of a venerable old priest, in whose service for five years I found living a good woman. She was reflecting what vocation she should choose. The old pastor had advised her to spend the rest of her life with him, as housekeeper, but on the other side of the house, the nuns beckoned to her, “Come and join us, Lizzie.” Then it happened that I passed by. I was in a neglected condition. My suit of clothes appeared to have seen better days. A hailstorm seemed to have come over my hat. My blond hair lay around my temples unkempt like dried up flowers of the cemetery. When she heard that I had come from her neighborhood village, Holsthum, she said to herself, “That is a disgrace to the whole valley of Prüm. He must be hidden from the streets of North Washington, even if I have to marry him. Perhaps there is hidden in that neglected and careless fellow a good provider, and, if I succeed in making a good Christian out of him, I can earn besides a good crown in heaven.” She thought further, “This is Leap Year and Eve had the job in paradise, a breath-taking job it was, to make the marriage offer. At my first attack, he fell on my breast. Father Probst then tied me to him, on the twenty-second day of September 1896, and he made the knot so tight that I could not think to get away from him anymore.”
Memoirs of Mathias Noehl (Translation)

Although the couple married in Iowa, the mark of the photographer Bancroft on this cabinet card reveals that their wedding portrait was not taken there. St. Peter, Minnesota was well over one hundred miles from North Washington, Iowa, where their marriage had been solemnized on 22 September 1896. What could have brought Mathias and Elisabeth there? I don’t have a good answer. It seems highly unlikely that the couple, certainly not well-to-do, would have set off on a leisurely honeymoon tour of the Midwest; more plausible is that they ventured to Minnesota, where Mathias had spent his first years in America, in order to visit Mathias’s aunts and uncles and/or to scout out a potential place to settle. Mathias and Elisabeth did later reside in Minnesota, but only briefly; after their first two children were born in Iowa, their third child was born in Meeker County, Minnesota in the spring of 1900 following a failed stint in Alberta. However, within months, the family had returned to Chickasaw County, Iowa. A few years later, they made a brief attempt to homestead in Saskatchewan, but, again, ultimately returned to Iowa to raise their nine children. In any case, it is known that Mathias had connections in Minnesota, and undoubtedly some familiarity with the rail lines—one of which did indeed pass through St. Peter.

As North Washington was a small community—its population has hovered between about one hundred to one hundred fifty residents for the past century—a photographer was presumably not available to Mathias and Elisabeth on the day of their marriage. Thus, the couple may have made a point to seek out a photographer during their travels north. Whether Elisabeth traveled with her own veil and flowers or obtained them from the photographer, it seems that this “photo op” must have been carefully planned, and indeed, as Mathias’s parents remained in Germany, it may have meant a great deal to the couple to have a portrait taken in order for Mathias to be able to introduce his parents to his bride.

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Tombstone Tuesday: Anna Barbara (Ruckdäschel) Poesch (1811-1887)

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Anna Barbara (Ruckdäschel) Poesch was forty-two years old before she saw something of the world. Born on 14 November 1811 in the village of Schönlind near what is now Weißenstadt, Bavaria, Germany, she was said to have been the daughter of Johann Georg Ruckdäschel and Eva Margaretha Brodmerkel. Nothing is known of her early years, but Barbara, as she was known, married shoemaker Wolfgang Poesch on 22 April 1833 when she was twenty-one years old. Five known children would be born to the couple in the years to come, the first that same year: Johann (1833), Catharina (1835), Anna Margaretha (1838), Lorenz (1847), and Paulus (1850).

In 1852, Barbara bade farewell to her eldest son when he departed in the company of another local family, that of Paulus and Elisabeth (Schmidt) Thoma, to seek a better life in America. Young Johann, nineteen at the time of his passage, must have sent a favorable report to his parents of his new home in northeastern Iowa; in 1854, Barbara, Wolfgang, and their four remaining children packed a trunk and left the village of Weißenstadt behind forever.

After making the trek to Bremen and then stepping aboard the Heinrich Von Gagern, the family was at sea for what may have been as long as two months. Barbara must have struggled to keep her family clean and fed in cramped conditions, but surely took solace in the companionship of others from their home village who traveled with them. Her eldest daughters, Catharina, eighteen, and Anna Margaretha, fifteen, would have been a great help to her in caring for the two little boys, Lorenz, seven, and Paulus, just four.

Barbara and her family disembarked in New Orleans on 27 Apr 1854. They may have been wary of lingering long in this bustling port; a devastating yellow fever epidemic had swept through the city the previous summer, and as April turned to May, the weather would likely have become increasingly hot, humid, and inhospitable. A steamboat would have provided the family relatively quick and reliable passage north, at the very least to St. Louis if not all the way to Iowa.

After an arduous journey across the Atlantic and through the Gulf of Mexico, then up the Mississippi River, Barbara was no doubt thrilled to finally be reunited with her eldest son upon their arrival in Clayton County, Iowa; in fact, numerous familiar faces from their home village would have greeted the Poesch family.

However, tragedy would soon strike—if indeed it hadn’t already. Four-year-old Paulus, listed as the youngest member of the family on the 1854 ship manifest, was not present at the time the family was recorded in the 1856 Iowa State Census, which suggests that he had died at some point in the intervening years, either in Iowa or en route there. Then, most likely within a year of that same census, Wolfgang succumbed to sunstroke. In his early fifties at the time, the physical demands of farming in the heat of an Iowa summer were apparently too much for him.

Although Wolfgang did not live to commemorate his silver wedding anniversary with Barbara, the couple was able to celebrate the marriages of their two eldest children: son Johann to fellow immigrant Catharina Weiss, and, in 1855, daughter Catharina to Friederich Thoma. Then, in 1857, Anna Margaretha married Wilhelm Heinrich Thoma. The Poesch sisters had, in fact, married two brothers, members of the same family with whom their brother Johann had emigrated from Weißenstadt in 1852. This made their children—nineteen between them—double first cousins.

Find A Grave, Inc., Find A Grave, digital image (www.findagrave.com : accessed 25 March 2024), photograph, Barbera Poesch (1811-1887), Memorial No. 148724753, Garnavillo Community Cemetery, Garnavillo, Clayton County, Iowa; photograph by Ken Johnson, 2016.

Barbara survived Wolfgang by approximately twenty years. The year 1860 found her living with the family of her daughter Catharina; a few years later, her son Lorenz would serve with the 12th Iowa Infantry in the Civil War, surely an anxious time for Barbara. Lorenz survived the war and married Wilhelmina Best in 1868. In 1870, Barbara lived with the family of her son Johann, and was perhaps still a member of his household during a bitter cold snap in early March of 1873 when her fourteen-year-old granddaughter, her namesake, sadly perished. Young Barbara, who had been ill, had entered an unheated room one night where she fell and lay undetected until morning, by which time her arms and legs were said to have frozen and she was too weakened to recover.

By 1885, Barbara resided in the town of Garnavillo with her daughter Anna Margaretha, who was by that point also widowed. Barbara’s occupation was recorded as “Old Mother.” Having raised four children of her own to adulthood, and having likely had a hand in raising a total of twenty-five grandchildren as well, Barbara certainly earned her title.

Anna Barbara (Ruckdäschel) Poesch died at the home of her daughter in Garnavillo, Clayton County, Iowa, on 07 September 1887, when she was seventy-five years old. Her obituary, printed in a local newspaper, stated, “Her remains were conveyed to their last resting place on Saturday, followed by a large concourse of sorrowing relatives and friends. Rev. F. Sommerlad conducted the ceremony in his usual impressive manner.”

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The Thatcher’s Family

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When Matthias Hoffmann died in 1879 at the age of fifty-eight, he left a widow and six children, the youngest of whom was only four years old. Matthias, a thatcher by trade, had lived with his family in the village of Prümzurlay, Eifelkreis Bitburg-Prüm, Rhineland-Palatinate, Germany, near Luxembourg. He and his wife, Anna Marbach, had married in the village of Ernzen on 24 September 1861, and six children were born to them over the next fourteen years: Clara (1861), Nicolaus (1864), Jacob (1867), Elisabeth (1869), Eva (1872), and Matthias (1875).

It is not known how the Hoffmann family supported themselves after Matthias’s death, but as Anna did not remarry, she and her eldest daughters may have been able to earn an income from spinning, weaving, or the like, while her eldest sons may have hired out as shepherds or farm laborers. Perhaps Nicolaus, who was fourteen when his father died, was fortunate enough to have already had an apprenticeship in place; eventually he married and settled in the area, living out his life in Germany.

Prümzurlay, Rheinland-Pfalz, Germany photograph, 2009; privately held by Melanie Frick, 2024.

For the others, however, new horizons were sought. Jacob, the second eldest son, who had been twelve years old at the time of his father’s death, was the first to immigrate to America. He traveled alone from Antwerp to New York in the spring of 1887 when he was twenty years old. One can well imagine the hard work that he—and his mother and siblings—must have undertaken in order to book his passage, quite likely with the expectation that he would pave the way for the rest of the family to eventually join him overseas. Jacob then made his way to northeastern Iowa.

Three years later, in the spring of 1890, his sisters Clara and Elisabeth followed. Within a month of their arrival in North Washington, Chickasaw County, Iowa, Clara, who was twenty-eight, married fellow immigrant John Seelhammer. One wonders whether they had been acquainted in Germany, or whether Jacob may have facilitated the match. Elisabeth, twenty, was not so quick to settle down; she found employment as a housekeeper for the local priest, Father Probst, who was a native of Luxembourg.

In the spring of 1891, matriarch Anna (Marbach) Hoffmann, who was by then fifty-five years old, voyaged from Antwerp to New York with her two youngest children, Eva, eighteen, and Matthias, sixteen. They too were bound for Chickasaw County, Iowa, where they would reunite with Jacob, Clara, and Elisabeth.

The 1895 Iowa state census indicates that Anna and at least four of her children resided in Chickasaw County: Anna headed a household that included her sons Jacob and Matthias, both of whom farmed; Clara lived with her husband, a shoemaker, and their children; Elisabeth resided at her place of employment with Father Probst and the Sisters of Charity. Eva is absent from the 1895 Iowa state census, but whether this is because she had moved elsewhere or was simply missed by the census enumerator is not known.

It was in Chickasaw County that Jacob married Margaret Nosbisch in 1895, and where Elisabeth married fellow immigrant Mathias Noehl in 1896. In 1898, however, tragedy struck the Hoffmann family, when Matthias, the youngest child of Matthias and Anna (Marbach) Hoffmann, died at the age of twenty two or twenty three. Another blow occurred that year when Jacob and his wife lost a child at one day old.

It was also in 1898, however, that Eva married in Chicago to Mathias Weyer, and by 1900, her mother had joined her there. Chicago wasn’t a surprising destination for them; Anna’s mother and two of her sisters had settled there decades earlier. Although her mother had since passed away, Anna would have had the opportunity to reunite with her sisters and to meet her nieces and nephews.

Ultimately, Anna seems to have remained in Chicago until her death in 1907; the cause was attributed to asthma. Clara and Elisabeth both raised large families in Chickasaw County, with Clara having eight children and Elisabeth nine. Eva had one child with her first husband, a farm laborer and beer peddler; after she was widowed, she remarried in 1913 to Milton Jonas, and lived out her life in Chicago.

Jacob, whom a local newspaper described as being “of that hustling, genial disposition which makes him companionable and agreeable whether the weather, or something else is or is not just to his liking,” set his sights on South Dakota shortly after the dawn of the new century, and later settled in Hidalgo County, Texas, with his wife and son—who was ultimately the only one of his six children to survive infancy.

Brother and sister Jacob Hoffmann and Elisabeth (Hoffmann) Noehl, Hidalgo County, Texas, 1940; digital image courtesy of Jacky Sommer, 2018.

Whether the scattered Hoffmann siblings were able to remain in close contact in the decades following their mother’s death is unknown, but it is known that Jacob returned to Iowa to bury his wife in 1929, and there is also evidence—in the form of a photograph—that Elisabeth visited her older brother Jacob at his orange grove in Mission, Texas, in 1940. Eva had died in 1936; Jacob would pass away in 1954, Clara in 1955, and Elisabeth in 1957. Of the fate of their brother Nicolaus who was said to have remained in Germany, however, nothing is yet known.

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A Jolly Sleighing Party

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It was a chilly January night in 1905 when a group of six young people set out on a sleighing party, traversing the thirteen miles from Center to Bloomfield in northeastern Nebraska. The Bloomfield Monitor reported:

A jolly sleighing party from Center, composed of Mr. and Mrs. Geo. A. Neilson, Mr. and Mrs. C.A. Saunders, Miss Maud Walton and O.A. Danielson took in the “Adventures of Fra Diavolo” at the opera house in Bloomfield last Saturday night. After the play, they, in company with the Misses Neff, Peterson and Lee of the Bloomfield schools, and Miss Dunham, were invited to the hospitable and commodious home of Mr. and Mrs. W. B. Frymire, where they were regaled with oyster stews and entertained with music until the wee sma’ hour when the Center people started for home, all vowing that Bloomfield is not so worse and that Mr. and Mrs. Frymire are the best.
Bloomfield Monitor, Bloomfield, Nebraska, 26 January 1905

George A. Neilson had married Anna Leota Fenton three years prior, and both were twenty-four years old at the time of this particular sleighing party. Their son, Fenton, would celebrate his second birthday just a few days later, on January 26, and he was undoubtedly left in the care of a neighbor or his visiting grandmother while his parents were out, a nighttime outing on the snowy plains not being at all suitable for a toddler! George had managed the Edwards and Bradford Lumber Company in Center ever since his marriage, and as he was known to be an affable and outgoing young man, it is no surprise that he and his wife had a lively circle of friends.

Anna Leota (Fenton) Thoma and George Hiram Thoma, alias George A. Neilson, circa 1900-1905; digital images 2010, privately held by Melanie Frick, 2024. Composite image created by the author.

Notably, however, George A. Neilson was not his real name. Born George Hiram Thoma, son of Fred and Matilda (Hammond) Thoma of Clayton County, Iowa, George is believed to have initiated the use of an assumed name around the year 1900. He is thought to have left his home in northeastern Iowa in 1899, and as of June 1900, he can be found recorded in the U.S. Federal Census of Belden, Cedar County, Nebraska, as George Thoma. Employed as a clerk, he boarded with the family of Charles and Anna Nelson, who were Swedish immigrants, along with a number of other young men between the ages of eighteen and thirty-two: William Reynolds, Morris Nielsen, Thomas Caverhill, William Graham, Arthur Knapp, Albert Brodbrochs, Edgar Stevenson, and Ed Evans. However, a January 1901 news clipping tentatively presumed to refer to him and one of his fellow boarders uses the surname Neilson:

George Neilson and Art Knapp of Belden attended a party in Coleridge Friday evening.
The Coleridge Blade, Coleridge, Nebraska, 24 January 1901

At the time of his marriage in March 1902, which took place in northwestern Iowa, George presented himself officially as George A. Neilson. Decades later, affidavits from George, his mother, and his brother attested that this was an assumed name and that George Hiram Thoma and George A. Neilson were one and the same person. A marriage announcement used the name George Neilson as well and noted an impending move to Nebraska:

George Neilson and Miss Ota Fenton were married Sunday afternoon at the home of the bride’s mother, Mrs. John Hoffman, Rev. Fegtley officiating. Mr. Neilson has been an able assistant in the Edwards & Bradford Lumber Co. for some time past and is a worthy young man. The bride has lived in Ashton for a number of years and needs no introduction. The many friends join in wishing them many happy years of wedded life. Mr. Neilson expects soon to be moved to Nebraska where he will have charge of a lumber yard for the above named firm.
The Sibley Gazette, Sibley, Iowa, 27 March 1902

This move was to Center, where George immediately began placing newspaper advertisements for the Edwards & Bradford Lumber Company under the name George Neilson. He continued to use this alias until at least 1908, through several more moves; by 1909, when he applied for a homestead in western Nebraska, he had reverted to the use of his original name. No reason has yet been uncovered for George’s use of an alias, although it appears to have emerged sometime between June 1900 and January 1901 during his residence in Belden—or perhaps prior, if by chance he had shared his true name with the census enumerator in private.

“Beggar Prince Comic Opera Co. ‘Fra Diavolo,'” *Bloomfield Monitor*, 12 January 1905; *wspapers.com* (www.newspapers.com : accessed 25 January 2024).

As he squeezed into a crowded sleigh on the wintry evening of January 21, 1905, however, any secrets that George may have suppressed were likely at the back of his mind. Along with Leota and their group of friends, he enjoyed a play performed at Bloomfield’s opera house by a traveling theater troupe, followed by oyster stew, music, and good company at the home of the owner of a prosperous local hardware store. As night crept on to morning, it was time for the sleighing party to make their return trip to Center, and, just a month or so later, George and Leota—still, at that time, Neilsons—bade their friends a fond farewell as they moved on to the eastern Nebraska town of Newcastle.

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Back to School

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I first glimpsed this photograph behind clouded glass more than fifteen years ago. I was visiting the Garnavillo Historical Society in northeastern Iowa, a short distance from the Mississippi River, and I was thrilled to spy the face of my great-great-grandfather as a little boy in this cabinet card photograph of the Garnavillo School. However, due to its semi-permanent placement inside glass, it wasn’t until more recent efforts by the historical society to refresh their exhibits and digitize their collections that I was, happily, able to obtain a clear copy.

Garnavillo School, circa 1888, Clayton County, Iowa; digital image 2023, privately held by the Garnavillo Historical Society, 2023. Image shared with permission.

George Hiram Thoma, the son of Frederick Thoma and Matilda Hammond, was born in Garnavillo, Clayton County, Iowa on 29 September 1880. His parents were natives of Clayton County, and, right around the time that George would have started school, his father was known to have operated a restaurant in Garnavillo. Pictured here in the second row, fifth from right, fair-haired George, perhaps eight years old, regards the photographer with a still and serious expression, mimicking his teacher more so than some of his wiggly classmates. Thirty-six students were present for “Picture Day” at the Garnavillo School; this photograph, initially believed to have been taken circa 1886, was in fact more likely taken about two years later based on the birth dates of some of the youngest children pictured.

The teacher, Julia Downey, was said to have taught school in Clayton County for thirteen years prior to her 1893 marriage. Her students, with birth year in parentheses if available, are identified below:

Front row, left to right: Sophia Maack (1877), Ora Ahlitz (1879), Emma Harnack (1879), Severa Wirkler (1881), Harvey Maurer (1882), Norma Maurer (1884), Edna Brumm (1883), Adelia Kuhlman (1880).

Second row, left to right: Aerney Tangeman (1881), Alto (Realto) Schumacher (1881), Erwin Wirkler (1880), Billy Gilmore ( ), Will Schumacher (1880), George Thoma (1880), Gretchen Gilmore ( ), Waldemar Krasinsky (1880), Louise Rohde (1881), Elizabeth Siebertz ( ).

Third row, left to right: George Tangeman (1878), George Hill (1882), Paul Rantzow (1879), Miss Julia Downey, Orville Roebken (1879), Gruel ( ), Abner Roebken (1881), Fred Nieter (1880), Fred Stickfort (1879), Emil Schumacher (1879).

Back row, left to right: Irving Maurer (1879), Bruno Tangeman (1879), Ed Breitsprecher (1879), William Blunck (1877), Henry H. Stickfort (1878), Julius H. Rohde (1879), Gruel ( ), Elmer G. Brumm (1878), Arthur (Art) Gruetzmacher (1878).
Courtesy of the Garnavillo Historical Society

Garnavillo boasted a brick, two-story schoolhouse with four rooms; however, this photograph seems to have been taken instead at the studio of the photographer, Mr. Tangeman, as a hanging backdrop is evident. The students pictured here were between the ages of approximately four and eleven, and one can imagine that a field trip to the photographer’s studio would have made for an exciting school day for them.

George Hiram Thoma, detail from Garnavillo School, circa 1888, Clayton County, Iowa; digital image 2023, privately held by the Garnavillo Historical Society, 2023. Image used with permission.

Little is known about young George’s school days, although he was apparently a motivated student as would go on to complete high school. The high school that he attended was not in Garnavillo, however, but in the town of Postville in neighboring Allamakee County. As his grandparents resided there, it is possible that he boarded with them during his high school years. As a teenager, George worked for a time at a local hardware store, volunteered with the fire department, and then, according to family lore, made his way west with his bicycle and changed his name—but that’s another story!

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Matilda the Midwife

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“Matilda was a midwife,” so goes the family story, “and delivered a lot of babies in the county.” Despite a lack of definitive documentation, and almost certain lack of opportunity for any formal training, this nevertheless seems plausible. Matilda J. (Hammond) Thoma (1859-1947) of Clayton County, Iowa birthed five children of her own, and it does not seem unlikely that she might have assisted at the births of others in her close-knit community. She had numerous nieces and nephews whose births she might have supported, and she may even have served as midwife at the births of some of her own grandchildren. Indeed, it was her granddaughter Ina Fischer, born in 1907, who recalled nearly eighty years later that Matilda had been a midwife, and a 1920 newspaper announcement indicated that another granddaughter, Jacqueline Chaney, was in fact born at Matilda’s home.

_{Matilda (Hammond) Thoma and Franque (Friend) Curtis photograph, circa 1922, Clayton County, Iowa; digital image 2023, privately held by Melanie Frick, 2023.}

Here, in one of only two photographs known to exist of Matilda, she poses with granddaughter Franque Friend. Matilda would have been in her early sixties at the time that this photograph was taken circa 1922; her hair, loosely coiled into a bun atop her head, seems to have gone mostly white. She wears a somewhat rumpled striped dress with buttons up the front and a wide collar in a contrasting fabric; this was not a studio portrait, but a casual snapshot apparently taken at home. Matilda appears to sit on a sofa near a window, a potted plant beside her, and striped wallpaper is visible in the background. She offers a small smile to the camera. Young Franque, perhaps ten years old here, stands next to her grandmother, grinning beneath the broad brim of a straw hat with a fringe of dark hair just peeking out. She wears a white dress with scalloped cuffs, a bow at the collar, and a leather belt.

Matilda, the daughter of Hiram H. Hammond (1813-1896) and Eva Margaret Stoehr (1831-1906), spent more than sixty-five years in Clayton County, Iowa, where she was born and later married Frederick Thoma (1857-1925). Four of their five children lived to adulthood; the youngest sadly died in a diphtheria outbreak at the age of ten. Following her husband’s death, Matilda eventually relocated, first to Texas with her daughter Roselyn and then to Wisconsin where she lived with her granddaughter Jacqueline. Few other details are known of her life, but what little is known suggests that she was a kind, competent, and maternal individual—just the sort to lend a hand as a midwife.

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A Young Member of the Catholic Cadet Corps

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In the summer of 1916, Gerald “Jerry” Adam of Sioux City, Woodbury County, Iowa, celebrated his eighth birthday. Shortly thereafter, he became a charter member of the city’s newly-established Catholic Cadet Corps under the leadership of Reverend Henry A. Janse, Reverend Thomas M. Parle, Sergeant C. A. Butler, and Charles Parsons.

_{Gerald Joseph Adam and the Charter Members of the C.C.C. (Gerald pictured second row, second from right), 1917 Year Book of the Catholic Cadet Corps (Perkins Bros. Co. : Sioux City, Iowa, 1917); privately held by Melanie Frick, 2023. Collection courtesy of David Adam.}

“The Catholic Cadet Corps was organized for the Catholic boys of Sioux City. It is now a citywide organization, and at the present time has a membership of 170. Companies are being formed in the various parishes of the city, so that all the Catholic boys of the city can enjoy the benefits of the C.C.C. For years the need of some such organization has been felt to solve the ‘boy problem.’ Until recently our Catholic boy had no organization of his own and experience has taught us that many of our boys drifted into the Y.M.C.A. on that account.

The Y.M.C.A. is a protestant organization in which our boy is not welcome, in which he can neither vote nor hold office and in which it is constantly insinuated that he is not even a Christian. Naturally this environment is not conducive to the best interest of our boy. The C.C.C. movement was inaugurated with the purpose of giving the Catholic boy surroundings which are in harmony with his faith. A tremendous amount of work has been done to make the C.C.C. attractive, instructive and helpful.”
1917 Year Book of the Catholic Cadet Corps

As a member of the Catholic Cadet Corps, Jerry would have participated in military drills and athletics, marched in parades and decorated the graves of Civil War veterans. He may have been among the group of young cadets who sang “America” at a local theater on Decoration Day 1917 to much applause. The C.C.C. also organized an ambulance corp that took part in numerous aid efforts, and afforded recreational opportunities for its members such as hiking, picnicking, and swimming at the nearby Trinity College.

_{Catholic Cadet Corps, June 5, 1917 (Gerald Adam pictured second row, sixth from right), 1917 Year Book of the Catholic Cadet Corps (Perkins Bros. Co. : Sioux City, Iowa, 1917); privately held by Melanie Frick, 2023. Collection courtesy of David Adam.}

Perhaps most significantly, the Catholic Cadet Corps may have provided Jerry with a sense of community and belonging at a place and time when Catholicism was not necessarily mainstream. “Boys of the C.C.C. are not ashamed of being Catholics—they are proud of it in this free land of the U.S.A.” The 1917 Year Book of the Catholic Cadet Corps made clear that uniforming each young member in a tailored wool suit was an intentional choice. “The fact that the Cadets have the best uniforms in the city makes them think more of their personal appearance, increases their self-respect and has a good influence on their every day lives—they strive to be as good as they look. The boys wear their uniforms to school. This places all the boys on the same level—no distinction between rich and poor—all are Cadets and all try to do their best in school.” Jerry even wore his uniform for a family photograph believed to have been taken circa 1916.

It is not known how long Jerry might have been involved with the Catholic Cadet Corps, but the year he turned ten was a tumultuous one for him. Not only was 1918 marred by war and a global pandemic, but his father was away for long stretches of time due to his employment at a naval shipyard, and then, tragically, his younger brother died at age five following a horrific accident. Jerry was left an only child with a grieving mother and a father occupied with the war effort; it can well be imagined that the leadership and friendship offered by the C.C.C. may have filled a void for him at this time.

Jerry would not be a lifelong Catholic, but his experiences in the Catholic Cadet Corps may have influenced him regardless. At the age of eighteen, he joined the Marine Corps Reserve, and at twenty, he and his bride—although she was not Catholic—were married by Reverend Le Cair of St. Jean Baptiste Catholic Church in Sioux City. Although Jerry’s involvement with the Catholic church waned after that point, he continued to be actively involved in his community through fraternal organizations, as a Little League coach, and as a businessman and entrepreneur. As for Sioux City’s Catholic Cadet Corps, the wartime years seem to have been its heyday and any mention of the organization in the local newspaper dropped off within a few years thereafter.

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What the Well Dressed Secretary Wore

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It was 1925 when Fern Thoma graduated from Central High School and entered the workforce in her hometown of Sioux City, Woodbury County, Iowa. Her first known job was as a clerk at S.S. Kresge, a five-and-dime store. Fern did not remain a clerk for long, however; when a likely more lucrative position as a switchboard operator presented itself, she took it. As she recalled years later, however, she immediately found the fast-paced work environment to be much too stressful, and was relieved when her mother told her that she didn’t have to keep the job!

A position as a bookkeeper at the Sioux City Cooperative Dairy Marketing Association, which collaborated with local farmers to market and distribute dairy products, was much more to her liking. Fern had received a certificate of proficiency in typewriting during her final year of high school; perhaps this helped to qualify her for a bookkeeper’s duties. She held this position from 1926 until the summer of 1929, when she married at the age of twenty-one and moved with her husband to Nebraska.

*Fern Thoma, Sioux City, Iowa, 1927; digital image 2014, privately held by Melanie Frick, 2022. Collection courtesy of David Adam.*

A photograph of Fern, dated 19 May 1927, is labeled in her handwriting, “Yours truly in front of Coop Dairy where I worked until I got married and we moved to Norfolk Nebr. What the well dressed secretary wore.” Fern can be seen wearing a loose-fitting, drop-waisted dress with a pleated, tiered skirt. The fabric is patterned with a rose print, and a collared open vest in a solid color is worn over her dress. Short, waved hair frames her face, and she wears heeled shoes. She stands before the brick exterior wall of a building, the bright midday sun casting her shadow behind her.

The “Coop Dairy,” as Fern called it, was located on Howard Street, near the Floyd River. Fern lived with her parents, and although they moved houses several times in the late 1920s, they remained within a half mile or so of Fern’s workplace. The well dressed secretary would have needed comfortable shoes for the ten-minute walk to and from the dairy!

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