I spent some time in La Farge’s Village Park over the past couple
of weeks. Despite the oppressive heat
spell, the park is still a pleasant outdoors setting with its abundant shade
and seemingly constant breezes. For
those venturing out from their air conditioning during the summer’s sweltering
heat wave, the wooded park on the hill might be the coolest place in La
Farge. And that is as it has always
been.
When
Dredsel Bean returned from his time in America’s Civil War, he bought property
located just to the south of the bustling lumber boom town of Seelyburg and on
the northwest corner of where two old trails crossed. He built his house and blacksmith shop near the
place known as “The Corners” and started clearing much of the rest of his land
for farming. But on the hill on the
northern edge of his property, he kept a stand of mature maple, oak and elm
trees as his wood lot and sugar bush.
Eventually because of the cool summer breezes, which wafted through the
forested glade, people began to gather on the wooded hill when the weather
warmed up.
After the
maple sugar season ended in early spring, Dred Bean would let a crew of town’s
folk trim the undergrowth to better promote gatherings in his grove of trees
during the warmer months of each year.
By the 1870’s, Bean was hosting reunions of his Civil War comrades on a
yearly basis in his grove. Picnics,
church gatherings and other reunions and gatherings became common during these
early years in Bean’s Grove and by the 1880’s the 4th of July
Celebration was played out either in Dred Bean’s front yard or in his grove on
the hill. By the time that La Farge was
incorporated as a village at the turn of the century, Bean’s Grove was hosting nearly
all of the village’s important outdoor events.
The Civil War veteran reunions, usually held in the month of September,
drew thousands to the events held in Bean’s Grove. Dred Bean never charged a penny to anyone who
used his grove during all of those years.
His only requirement was that people keep the place clean and help mow
the weeds back. Bean also frowned on the
evils of liquor, so his grove was always “dry” regardless of the status of
saloons in town. By that early
tradition, alcoholic beverages have never been sold in his grove.
When Dred
Bean passed away in 1913, the village leaders made inquiries to acquire Bean’s
Grove as a village park. The family
offered to sell the grove to the village.
This move caused some considerable consternation among some folks in La
Farge since Dred had never charged anyone for the use of his woods. Finally in the spring of 1916, the good
people of La Farge voted overwhelming in a special referendum to instruct the
village board to purchase the woods on the hill. La Farge’s new village park located in Bean’s
Grove was officially dedicated that year at the 4th of July
festivities. This year the grove hosted
its 97th 4th of July Celebration as the village’s park.
Because of
its heavy use for gatherings of all kinds, bandstands and shelters were added to
the park over the years. Structures to
host food stands, particularly for the 4th of July, were
constructed. After World War II, the La
Farge VFW members built a new cement dance bowery in the grove. My recollections of the Village Park began
soon after that.
The Free
Methodist Church moved their Sunday service to the Village Park on July 1 of
this year, calling it “Church In The Park” and invited the community to attend. The service was followed by a potluck dinner
and drew an overflow crowd to the Village Park bowery. I was sitting way in the back and could not
hear Pastor Mark Phillips very well, so my mind started to wander back to my
first remembrances of Dred Bean’s Grove.
(I felt kind of bad for not paying attention to Pastor Mark’s message,
but then remembered how he sometimes didn’t pay the best attention to some of
my history lectures back in the days when he was a student at LHS. So maybe, what goes around; comes around?)
My early
memories of the Village Park revolve around the 4th of July
Celebrations and the Steinmetz family reunions, always held there the Sunday
before Labor Day. Those family reunions
were immense gatherings at the time in the early 1950’s as my grandfather Emery
Steinmetz and his siblings and cousins were all still alive. All of “The Cousins”, which is what my Dad’s
generation was called, would return with their families to the grove each year
for socializing and a big family potluck picnic – the highlight of the reunion. Oddly, I remember that there were large
outhouses along the east edge of the park back then. The outdoor privies were dark; foul-smelling
places and the men’s featured a long metal trough urinal, which intrigued me to
no end. Romping around the park with my
seldom-seen cousins in endless games of tag is a fond memory. With so many trees to hide behind, Hide &
Seek was another favorite game in the grove during those family reunions of
over fifty years ago.
My favorite
memory of the Village Park is of those first 4th of July
celebrations when I was a kid. Growing
up in the village, I was always up to the park to check out preparations for
the holiday, as the “grounds” were being prepared. One year I helped Dick Trappe, who worked for
the village, put up red, white & blue bunting for the celebration. We wrapped it around trees and draped it on
the bandstands and food stands. A large
American flag was hung on a wire above the bowery for people to dance under. By the time we were finished on that Independence
Day eve, the green arbor of the grove was adorned with red, white & blue
everywhere.
Another
time, I helped Leo Smith, who was the village clerk at the time, to stake out
where all of the carnival stands would be located along the park’s midway. In those days the carnival midway ran from
the top of the park, down both sides of the road that led to the bowery and on
down nearly to the road that looped back to the entrance. Leo had the stakes marked with the name and
size of the carny stands. As we pounded
the stakes in the ground, my imagination leapt ahead to the thrill of playing
the carnival games. By late in the
afternoon, the first carnival trucks drove up to the park and the tents of the
carnival started to blossom along the midway.
Somebody
had to watch the park grounds overnight to keep mischief-makers from causing
trouble. Often the village would hire
Cody Kidd to do that night watch of the grounds. When dawn broke the next morning on the 4th,
I was usually up early and begging my folks to let me head up to the park. Once I reached the midway, my nickels and
dimes just flew out of my pockets as I tried the carny games of chance. I was always trying to win that nice large
teddy bear, but it seemed the Chinese finger tortures and the “Made in Japan”
statuary was all that I could come up with.
(One time I won a large garish clown statue, which I proudly presented
to my Gramma Campbell as a present. She
smiled and accepted the fat clown of a gift, but I’m not sure she was too
impressed with the thing. It eventually
found a home in the back of an out-of-way knickknack shelf on the back porch –
far out of anyone’s sight.) I was often dead
broke by the time I traipsed back down the hill to go downtown and watch the
parade and it was only 9:30 in the morning!
What was a boy to do?
The parade
always led everybody back up to the park right before noon and the picnicking
would begin in earnest. Before my
Granddad and Gramma Campbell, Pearl and Isa, moved to town from up on Salem
Ridge, our Independence Day picnic would center around wherever they set out
their blanket in the grove. Uncle Mike
and Aunt Alice Lawrence and their kids were usually there as well and many
others would drop by. The gatherings for
the 4th of July picnics were rather fluid as old friends and former
neighbors wandered around striking up conversations and reconnecting with folks
not seen in awhile. The food was always
the best and someone always made some lemon pies – an old tradition on the 4th.
By the time
dinner was done, I usually had begged or otherwise acquired a handful of change
to lead another charge on the carny games.
If Chief Whitehorse was there, and he usually was, I would watch him
handle his snakes and sell rattlesnake soap.
The longer the day went on, the cheaper the soap would get as Chief
Whitehorse didn’t want to haul it all back to Madison. I could listen to the Chief’s wonderful lingo
all afternoon and sometimes did. (Did
you know that rattlesnake soap contained no animal fats as all other soaps
did? Learned that from the Chief and I
knew he wouldn’t tell a lie!)) One year
I was patient and ended up buying a whole armful of soap for fifty cents, which
I was made to reluctantly share with family.
(Might have been my Mother’s attempt to square things with family after
my earlier begging for money foray.) For
the next several weeks, I washed up more frequently than a small boy was want
to and smelled of the Chief’s special and wonderful rattlesnake soap.
Oh my –
memories of Bean’s Grove – the coolest place in La Farge.
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