Northwest Territory Museum, Dixon

I’d driven through Dixon, IL, previously, en route to the John Deere Historic Site (a wonderful place to visit, if you like agricultural history, which I do). But on that earlier visit, I’d read in a brochure on the area that there was a Northwest Territory Museum in Dixon, so I was determined to return. Last week, after a speaking engagement in Tampico, I came home by way of Dixon and located this wonderful museum.

The building, which was once a school, is imposing. It’s located within a block of Ronald Reagan’s childhood home and is, in fact, where he attended school. But while that is acknowledged, the museum is about the Northwest Territory, the region that would become Michigan, Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, and Wisconsin. The museum is actually a Smithsonian affiliate, which means it is impressively sophisticated. On the first floor, there is an exhibit about the building of the Lincoln Highway, then upstairs, there is a series of rooms that move from wilderness and Native Americans (including a young Black Hawk), up through settlement, conflict, and development of the area. Displays are detailed, with figures beginning to talk as soon as you approach, to introduce you to what is happening in the time period you’ve just entered.

That history follows one side of the large building, with the other side offering more focused exhibits. One room celebrates veterans from the area. One room looks at the rise of chautauquas (events where people would gather for a week or two for lectures, plays, music, and book discussions), Dixon having been the site of one of the largest ones. And there is one room about building the town.

The NW Territory Museum is definitely worth a couple of hours. Added to the John Deere site, plus a couple of other historic sites I’ve seen on other visits to the area, I definitely recommend this area for a visit, if you like Midwestern and American history. And then there is the bonus of the possibility of enjoying a drive along the Rock River, which offers a beautiful setting of small towns and handsome forests. Delightful area for a day trip or weekend away.

Tampico, Illinois

One of the great things about having speaking engagements take me on the road (aside from meeting nice people) is that it gives me repeated opportunities to prove that there really is something to learn wherever you go. Last week, I was in Tampico, a small (population just over 700) farming community in west-central Illinois. I arrived early because I’d been offered a tour of the local historical society, which occupies a couple of historic buildings on Main St.

Of the two buildings, one is converted into a museum but the old bank next door has been restored to what it was like 100 years ago. However, it was the tenants in the apartment above the bank that has made the spot something of a destination. This is where Ronald Reagan was born. Both Ronald and his older brother were actually born in this bed.

Lots of history, both of the town and of the Reagans. One of my favorite stories, of the many I heard, was about Reagan working as a lifeguard. Living at this point in nearby Dixon, on the Rock River, a teen-aged Reagan looked impressive in his lifeguard uniform. He saved 77 people from drowning during his seven years of lifeguarding. But the tale that made me chuckle was that one girl was rescued three times. Can’t help but think she enjoyed being rescued by the future movie star.

So many other stories, plus the usual fun of visiting a restored building, with antique furniture an old ice box, old irons that one heated on the stove, and so much more, plus the equipment in the bank downstairs.

Here’s the website for the museum, with a few photos, additional history, and links to other area sites—plus info useful if visiting. https://www.tampicohistoricalsociety.com/R_Reagan_Birthplace_Museum.html

If you’re in the area, especially if you have an interest in Ronald Reagan, the museum is worth a visit. And should you visit Tampico, know that the restaurant across the street, The Break Room, is a dandy option, offering hearty but surprisingly imaginative food.

Return to Bishop Hill

Several years ago, on the return from a speaking trip to Iowa, I routed myself toward a town I’d read about—the Swedish settlement of Bishop Hill. This was a great idea, as Bishop Hill, a State Historic Site, is glorious. It’s also small, so easily explored—but really beautiful. Lots of historic buildings, tree-filled park, gardens, museums, shops.

That first trip, amid my exploring, I stopped for lunch at P L Johnson’s. This delightful little shop offers classic Swedish dishes, and it became my go-to place on return trips.

Because I have returned. In fact, if you’ve read my book Destination Heartland, you’ll know that Bishop Hill—and P L Johnson’s—are included in the book. Just too much history to not have it in a book on the region’s history! (And if you haven’t read my book, I figure your two options are getting my book or visiting Bishop Hill. Maybe both. Because there is a lot of very interesting history here.)

Two days ago, I was back in Bishop Hill, this time giving a presentation. Happily, agricultural history is a popular topic out here, so I’ve had the pleasure of a couple of visits through the Illinois Humanities “Road Scholars” program, in addition to my earlier visits, when I first explored the town. Of course, I had to go to P L Johnson’s. While I don’t have Swedish meatballs every time I visit I go, I did this weekend. The side salad had the option of lingonberry vinaigrette, which was my choice, and having had some wonderful soup there over the years, I couldn’t resist getting a cup of Swedish cheese soup. Yum.

But if you have an opportunity to be anywhere near Bishop Hill, I highly recommend a visit. There are B&Bs, if you want to stay a little longer. It’s a peaceful, lovely place, so a great option for a weekend away, and the wealth of history makes it a remarkable stop.

Mount Carroll, IL

The wonderful advantage to having speaking engagements all over Illinois is I get to see a lot of remarkably wonderful old towns (as well as, of course, the beautiful countryside). The downside is that I rarely get enough time to truly explore some of these delightful places. But I do see enough to be glad I visited—and learn enough to know that I need to eventually get back.

One example is a recent trip to Mount Carroll. This delightful, historic town, founded in the early 1800s, is a beautiful example of a small but prosperous, Midwestern town of the era, with a handsome business district, brick streets, elegant old homes, a nice history museum, and a downtown square with government buildings, monuments, and a Carnegie Library. I had the opportunity to walk around the square, gave my presentation in one of the old downtown buildings, and spent the night in a historic hotel, but I didn’t have time for the museum. That said, while I didn’t see everything, I was delighted by what I did see.

As is common across the upper Midwest, there is a Civil War monument in front of the County Courthouse. (If you don’t know how important this region was during that war, I recommend a visit to the Civil War Museum in Kenosha, WI—the upper Midwest supplied stunning numbers of volunteers and resources).

Across the street from the County Courthouse is the Bridgewater Inn, first opened in 1886, which is where I stayed. The necessary things have been updated, but every effort has been made to preserve the charm of that earlier time.

Happily, there is more to discover if I get back there. Also happily, if I don’t get back, I’m delighted with what I have seen. Traveling around the Midwest continues to support my belief that this is a delightful region.

Marbold Heritage Festival

I’ve mentioned visiting local history museums as a way of learning more about a place, but I recently had the pleasure of exploring another method of discovery: a history festival. Near Greenview, Illinois, a town not far from Springfield, I had the very great pleasure of attending the Marbold Heritage Festival. In this case, I had learned about the festival because they wanted to have a speaker, and they invited me to give two presentations over the two days of the festival. While it’s always fun to share with an appreciative audience, I was also delighted to both learn more about the purpose of the event and enjoy the community gathered to support that purpose.

The Historic Marbold Farmstead was built in 1850 by German immigrant John Marbold, who was a successful local businessman and farmer. The house had fallen into disrepair, and the festival was part of the ongoing effort to raise funds to fully restore it. There is still a fair bit of work to be done inside, but the house is beautiful and definitely taking shape.

The festival involved tours of the house, but also featured amazingly talented local artisans (beautiful carved wood, woven wheat, hand-made jewelry, rugs), purveyors (local honey, pies, BBQ), plus wonderful musicians, a Civil War reenactment group, and antique tractors from local collectors. One individual had an impressive collection of corn-related items, and since I was there to talk about the history of corn, I of course had to visit his display. Most of what he had was familiar, from years of research—devices for shelling corn, gloves and hooks for protecting hands while shucking corn, and more. But proving my contention that there is almost always something new, I found that he had a device I’d never seen before. I’d seen large-scale systems for bagging corn, from the days when all grain was shipped in two-bushel bags. But here was a small-scale device for a lone farmer bagging his own crop. I’d never seen it before.

So next time you see a promotion for a heritage festival, consider going. You never know what you might learn.

Kaskaskia—and Lafayette

When I have a speaking engagement that takes me on the road, I always try to find something to visit at my destination or on the way home (on the way there, I’m usually just making sure I arrive on time). A few months ago, on my way home from Murphysboro, IL, (where, in addition to speaking, I enjoyed once again some of the famous smoked offerings at 17th Street Barbecue), I turned my wheels west, heading toward the Mississippi River and then up toward Kaskaskia, one-time Illinois state capital and the only part of Illinois west of the river.

During my drive, I was struck by just how big Illinois is. In the southern part, the unbroken vistas stretch astonishingly far. Lovely farm country, but daunting. Can’t even imagine what the psychological impact must have been for people who visited before highways and automobiles.

Even after reaching and crossing the Mississippi, I had a fair bit of driving to do before reaching Kaskaskia. As remote as it was, I was surprised to run into other visitors there. But that underscores its importance. In addition to its former status as a capital, it was also the site of the farthest west conflict—and victory—of the American Revolution, thanks to the efforts of George Rogers Clark and company.

When I arrived, I viewed the “Liberty Bell of the West” and read all the historic markers. I was also pleased to see a sign memorializing LaFayette’s visit. In 1825–1826, the great French general made a return visit and tour of the country he aided in achieving liberty. Frenchman Julien Icher has followed the route taken by LaFayette during this “farewell tour,” and having seen a few episodes of his video diary of the effort (Follow the Frenchmen), I was delighted to see that he’d made it to Kaskaskia before I arrived. And so I now turn over the tale of this town to him—to share more about Lafayette but also to explain how Kaskaskia ended up on the other side of the Mississippi.

Where the Wild West was Born

You might be surprised to find out how far east the Wild West actually began.

Annie Oakley was born in Darke County, Ohio. You can learn more about the legendary sharp shooter at The National Annie Oakley Center at the Garst Museum, in Greenville, Ohio.

Wyatt Earp was born in Monmouth, Illinois, in a lovely Victorian house on a quiet suburban street that doesn’t hint at the adventurous future (other than the large picture of Earp, to make sure you know you’re in the right place). He grew up in Iowa, which is where his youngest brother Morgan was born. Older brother, Virgil, was born in Kentucky. Like many in the 1800s, the Earp family just kept moving west. Wyatt Earp first became a lawman in Kansas—and would later offer advice about recreating the Wild West to another Iowan, John Wayne.

Wild Bill Hickok was born in Mendota, Illinois. There is a statue of him outside the Mendota historical museum. (A delightful museum that is a good reason to stop in Mendota.)

Buffalo Bill was born in Le Claire, Iowa, where you can drive down Cody Road to the Buffalo Bill Museum. The bar that lays claim to being a favorite hangout, Glur’s Tavern, is in Columbus, Nebraska. (And you can still dine at Glur’s. Pretty good burgers.)

Calamity Jane was born and raised in Missouri, a pretty wild place in the early 1800s.

Jesse James was also born and raised in Missouri, and died there, as well. (The last place James lived is just out the back door of the outstanding Patee House Museum in St. Joseph, Missouri.)

Another notorious outlaw, Harvey Alexander Logan, better known as Kid Curry, was born in Iowa. Curry was said to be wildest member of The Wild Bunch.

Zane Grey, the writer who created the Western literary genre was from Ohio—near Zanesville, which was named for Grey’s grandfather, explorer Ebenezer Zane. (If you want more on Grey, he is remembered in a section of the National Road & Zane Grey Museum in Norwich, Ohio.)

Missouri (St. Joseph) is where the Pony Express originated. (Another great museum.)

Iconic Western towns such as Wichita and Dodge City are in Kansas.

Just to say that its worth remembering that much of the history of the Wild West is, in fact, the history of the Middle West.

Of course, it’s also worth remembering that the speed with which the Midwest grew meant that you had to keep moving if you wanted to stay wild.

(Above photo was taken at the Buffalo Bill Museum in Le Claire, IA.)

Back to Monroe

If you read my book, Destination Heartland: A Guide to Discovering the Midwest’s Remarkable Past, you’ll already know that Monroe, Wisconsin, is the “Swiss Cheese Capital of the USA.” You may also remember that I visited the Ratskeller Restaurant at Monroe’s Turner Hall (and yes, it is Ratskeller, which is Swiss German, vs. Rathskeller, which is German-German). Being in the Swiss Cheese Capital, that first time, I of course had to have the Swiss Cheese Pie. (And they kindly gave me the recipe for this, for inclusion in my book.) But I was enthusiastically informed by my guide that I must return for the Kalberwurst sandwich. I promised I would come back.

A few weeks ago, having a speaking engagement only 30 miles from Monroe, I turned my wheels north and returned, with the goal of keeping that promise. Happily, I was able to connect with the woman who had offered the recommendation, and she joined me for lunch,

The Kalberwurst itself is a veal sausage that originated in Glarus, Switzerland. At the Ratskeller, it is served smothered with caramelized onions and melted Swiss cheese, served on a bun with a small pot of gnarly, slightly sweet mustard. The sandwich was great (and seriously, smothered in onions and melted cheese, how could it be otherwise), but being able to keep a promise is also always a treat.

After lunch and a long chat, I continued on, heading for the Chalet Cheese Co-operative, the last place in the U.S. that makes Limburger cheese. Chalet Cheese is a few miles out of town, amid a rolling, green countryside. The “factory,” pristinely white and perched on a hill overlooking surrounding farms, has a small store where you can stock up on this and other offerings. The co-op uses milk from the 21 member families (ninety-five percent of all Wisconsin dairy farms are family owned), so the cheesemakers always know exactly what they’re getting, with milk coming from Holstein (70%) and Brown Swiss (30%) cows.

The tidy shelves in the modest shop offer mild, medium, and aged Limburger, and Limburger spread. Also on offer are, among other things, dill Havarti, Brick (invented in the U.S. by Swiss cheesemaker John Jossi), a range of processed cheese spreads, and, of course, Swiss in a number of forms. Fortunately, I’d brought a small cooler with me. So yet another reason to visit Monroe (besides those mentioned in my book.)

Pontiac, Illinois

A friend who had introduced me to a number of historic locales in central Illinois had told me I needed to stop in Pontiac next time I was nearby, and so on my way home a couple of months ago from a conference in Springfield, I did just that—and was, as always, pleased that I had. Because Pontiac offers a number of delights—not least of which is its position on the historic Route 66.

One of the things for which Pontiac is famous is its glorious murals. There are dozens, all over town, celebrating various aspects of the town’s history.

But the real draw, for most folks, is the Pontiac Museum Complex. This complex includes most notably the Route 66 Museum and Hall of Fame, which is packed with information about every iconic stop along the Illinois section of the Mother Road, along with a considerable amount of memorabilia from Bob Waldmire, an artist most noted for his detailed art capturing the essence of just about every inch of Route 66—but the whole thing, not just the Illinois section.

Equally remarkable is the War Museum, in the same building, and covering every era of conflict from World War I to the present. Hundreds of uniforms fill the many rooms of this section of the complex, representing all those from this area who served in every branch of the military. The volunteers in this museum are themselves veterans, and so they are happy to share their part of the story. In addition to information on service, there is also a section that recreates life on the homefront during the 1940s.

Small but still worthwhile museums within the complex include Music of the Civil War, Life on the Titanic, and more on artist Bob Waldmire. So definitely a worthwhile stop. Allow yourself a couple of hours to see it all—especially if, in addition to exploring the museum complex, you want to use the available map of murals to try to see them all.

The museums are free but, of course, donations are welcome. Volunteers are enthusiastic, but money is needed to keep the lights on.

I didn’t make it to the Pontiac-Oakland Automobile Museum on this trip—but I have to leave something for next time.

One-Room Schoolhouse

Forest Grove No. 5

There are so many things for me to love at Forest Grove No. 5, a one-room schoolhouse in Pleasant Valley Township, Iowa (Quad Cities area). It is history. It is education. It is community.

Opened in 1873, this is the last of the five schools that once existed in this township. It made it possible for children on the surrounding farms to get an education that was probably better than what was available in many city schools.

What drew me to this particular schoolhouse was friend Alane Watkins, whose family once  lived on one of the farms once served by this school—though it was her father and uncles who attended here, not Alane.

The school closed in 1957. Over the decades, the school had fallen into disrepair, until a group of volunteers, including Alane’s father, decided that perhaps it could be salvaged. The whole community got behind the project—and if you visit, there is a wonderful, professionally-produced video you can watch that documents the restoration but also interviews the remaining teachers and students still around at the time the project began. It is charming and heartwarming to see the community pulling together to save this bit of history. There are additional videos on their website: https://forestgroveschool.org/ The Forest Grove No. 5 schoolhouse reopened as a museum in 2021.

The school, which accommodated grades K–8, actually still sits on the site where it was originally built, and Alane points out that the massive oak trees on one side of the building were there back when the school was still in use.

Inside tremendous attention to detail has brought the school as close to what it was a century ago as is possible. As was the norm in one-room schoolhouses, desks are different sizes, with the smallest up front and largest at the back, to accommodate the multiple grades. Students would go to the blackboard by grade level, with other grades focusing on reading, writing, or other projects they could do on their own.

If you compare the photo from the 1940s (when Alane’s dad was a student there) to the photo I took a couple of weeks ago of the interior, you’ll notice that the globe on the right is above the level of the blackboard. The rope attached to it allowed it to be lowered when needed but keep it out of the way when it wasn’t.

Alane now works as a docent at the schoolhouse, but she is not alone in this. Others in the community participate, plus there are special events, such as a costumed teacher inviting local students for a full day of instruction as it would have occurred in the early 1900s. Slates, pens and ink, and old books make participation really engaging.

There is an information sign out front, that gives a good bit of additional intel, but try to be there when it’s open, as there is much more to see inside—and if you visit, definitely ask your docent to explain the Giant Stride out on the playground (chained now to keep visitors from using this once popular piece of equipment). And if you’re really good, they might even let you ring the school’s bell.

So if you have any reason to be in the Quad Cities area, consider dipping into a bit of the past at the Forest Grove No. 5 one-room schoolhouse.

Inside the school

Forest Grove class, 1940s.