Hedlund’s Humble Homestead: An Early Wellington, Colorado Real Photo Postcard

Charles H. Hedlund homestead, “3H Ranch – Hedlund’s Humble Homestead,” north of Wellington, Colorado, ca. 1912–1914. Real photo postcard. Author’s collection.

The photograph above probably dates from about 1912–1914. It shows the Charles H. Hedlund homestead, four miles north of Wellington, with three buildings standing on the open prairie. Hedlund probably built these structures during the first few years that he occupied the property.

Someone apparently added a playful handwritten title to the original negative: “3H Ranch – Hedlund’s Humble Homestead.” The joke seems fairly clear: the three H’s stood for Hedlund’s Humble Homestead. Whether Charles himself coined the nickname is impossible to know, but it gives this otherwise serious record of a new farmstead a distinctly personal touch.

By then, Charles Hayes Hedlund had already lived a full and adventurous life.

Hedlund was born December 28, 1876, in Dayton, Iowa. At age twenty-one, with the Spanish-American War underway, he enlisted on June 29, 1898, in Company G of the 52nd Iowa Volunteer Infantry. His regiment trained at Chickamauga Park, Georgia, and prepared for possible service in Puerto Rico, although it was never sent overseas. Hedlund was mustered out with the regiment at Des Moines on October 30.

Two years later, the 1900 census found him back in Dayton, single and working as a carpenter. That occupation may have served him particularly well a decade later when he began developing his own homestead.

In February 1903, he married Selma Collinson, another Dayton native. Shortly afterward the young couple left Iowa for Colorado. By December, Charles was in the Telluride mining country, where a newspaper reported that he was working a promising lease at the Gold King Mine. Rather than simply working for wages, Hedlund appears to have been trying his hand as a mining lessee, working a portion of an established mine in hopes of sharing in whatever valuable ore it produced.

During the next few years Charles and Selma started a family. Their daughter Maurine, listed as “Marvine” in the 1910 census, was born about 1903-04. Their son Howard was born around 1904-05.

By July 1908 the family had moved again, this time to Boulder, where Charles was identified in his mother’s obituary as “Hayes Hedlund of Boulder, Colorado.” Newspaper references confirm that the Hedlunds were still living there in 1909. They also retained strong ties to Iowa, including a two-month family visit to Dayton during the winter of 1908–09.

Their stay in Boulder was relatively brief. By April 1910 the federal census found Charles, Selma, and their two young children in Weld County. Charles was no longer listed as a carpenter or connected with mining. He was now a farmer.

An October 1910 Boulder newspaper makes the location even clearer. It described Charles H. Hedlund as “formerly of Boulder, but now of Rinn” and reported that he had come to Boulder with a load of potatoes. Rinn was a small farming community in southwestern Weld County.

Sometime around 1911, the Hedlunds moved north again, crossing into Larimer County and establishing an 80-acre homestead about four miles north of Wellington. The property lay west of what is now Interstate 25, probably along or near present-day Owl Canyon Road. The 80 acres represented one-half of the standard 160-acre quarter section commonly associated with Homestead Act claims.

By April 1913, at the latest, the farm was clearly an established home. The Courier-Farmer reported that Mr. and Mrs. Cotton Mather were spending several days with Charles and Selma there.

Charles H. Hedlund homestead, north of Wellington, Colorado, ca. 1912–1914. Detail from the real photo postcard showing the three buildings of the farmstead.

On March 17, 1914, Hedlund made final proof before the clerk of the county court in Fort Collins, demonstrating that he had met the federal requirements for residence and improvement of the land. His claim was accepted, and on July 28, 1914, the United States issued Homestead Patent No. 424045 to Charles H. Hedlund. The patent, approved during the administration of President Woodrow Wilson, formally transferred ownership of the 80 acres from the federal government to Hedlund.

Over time, Hedlund had become more than simply a farmer working his own 80 acres. He was increasingly active in the agricultural life of northern Larimer County. By February 1914 he was a member of the Farmers Union, a statewide farm organization that promoted cooperative buying and selling, agricultural education, insurance, and political advocacy on behalf of farmers. By December 1920 he was serving as the local union’s vice president. In December 1923 he was appointed to the loan committee of the North Larimer County Federal Farm Loan Association, a position that involved helping evaluate local farmers and the land they offered as security for long-term agricultural loans. The following month he was serving on the Larimer County Agricultural Advisory Council, one of the local bodies that helped identify agricultural needs and advise on county farming programs. Taken together, these positions suggest that Hedlund had become a trusted and increasingly prominent member of the local farming community. He was certainly more than a humble homesteader.

Hedlund homestead, north of Wellington, Colorado, ca. 1912–1914. Detail showing the probable family residence and the group standing nearby. The adults may be Charles and Selma Hedlund, with their children Maurine and Howard among the four younger figures.

This close-up gives us a closer look at what the Hedlund homestead may have looked like only a few years after Charles and Selma settled north of Wellington.

The largest building at the left was probably the family residence. It has several doors and windows and, most noticeably, two stovepipes rising from the roof. That suggests that more than one room or section of the building was heated. The structure is plain and practical, with vertical board siding and a metal roof. Charles’s earlier work as a carpenter may have been particularly useful as the family erected and improved the buildings on their new homestead, although we do not know how much of the construction he did himself.

The people standing nearby are more difficult to identify, but the group fits what we know of the Hedlund family surprisingly well. The woman standing immediately in front of the house may be Selma Hedlund, while the adult man at the right side of the group may be Charles. A few years later, Hedlund’s 1918 World War I draft registration described him as tall, of medium build, with brown hair and blue eyes. The photograph is too indistinct to confirm most of those characteristics, although the man at right does appear relatively tall.

The two taller children could be their daughter Maurine, about ten years old, and their son Howard, about nine. Two noticeably younger children are also present. Charles and Selma are known to have had only two children, so the younger pair were probably visitors, perhaps children accompanying whoever made the photograph. Their identities remain unknown.

The buildings themselves appear relatively new. The siding is simple and regular, the metal roofs show little obvious deterioration, and there is almost no landscaping around the house. There are no mature shade trees, established garden beds, ornamental plantings, or other signs of a farmstead that had been occupied for many years. None of this proves that the structures had just been built, but it fits what we know of a homestead probably established only a few years earlier.

The fencing is almost entirely practical. Posts and wire divide the working areas of the farm and may have helped keep livestock away from the house. Beyond them stretches an almost treeless landscape, with little of the mature windbreaks, landscaping, and accumulation of outbuildings that often characterized farms occupied for decades. We may be seeing the 3H Ranch very near the beginning of its development.

Hedlund homestead, north of Wellington, Colorado, ca. 1912–1914. Detail showing a probable farm outbuilding and a four-wheel general-purpose rack wagon.

The building farther to the right appears to have served a different purpose. Unlike the probable residence, it has no visible stovepipe or chimney and was probably an unheated farm building, perhaps a barn, stable, equipment shed, or general storage building. Its exact use cannot be determined from the photograph.

The wagon parked in front of it is particularly revealing. It appears to be a four-wheel farm wagon fitted with a long, relatively low rack rather than a passenger vehicle. A rack wagon used an open wooden framework instead of a deep enclosed box, allowing farmers to carry bulky loads such as hay, straw, produce, sacks, lumber, or other farm supplies. Wagons of this general type were the pickup trucks of their day and could be adapted for many different jobs. The open construction of the Hedlund wagon suggests that it was probably a general-purpose rack wagon rather than a conventional box wagon.

Its presence is another reminder that the Hedlund property was a working farm, not simply a residence. By 1910 Charles was already calling himself a farmer, and the Boulder newspaper report of his arriving from Rinn with a load of potatoes shows that he was producing crops before moving to the Wellington homestead.

The front of the postcard shows us what the Hedlund homestead looked like. The message on the back brings the place to life.

Reverse of the Hedlund homestead real photo postcard, addressed by Selma Hedlund to Cotton Mather in Fort Collins, Colorado. Postmarked in May, maybe 1913. Author’s collection.

Selma Hedlund addressed the card to Cotton Mather in Fort Collins and filled the message side with a practical request. Here is my best interpretation of the note:

“Mr. Mather, would you please bring me one of those S & Ws when you come? Mr. H. said he meant to tell you but forgot to. I’d also like to have you get me about fifty of each cabbage and tomato plants. I suppose you can get them at the greenhouse. Much obliged, Mrs. Hedlund.”

The note is striking for how ordinary it is. Selma was not writing about a major family event or some hardship of homesteading. She was simply asking a friend who was coming to visit to bring something Charles had forgotten to request, along with about fifty cabbage plants and fifty tomato plants.

The “S & W” is especially intriguing. In the West at that time, the initials would most naturally suggest Smith & Wesson, and the most likely meaning is a Smith & Wesson revolver. We cannot prove that from the postcard alone, but Selma’s wording, “one of those S & Ws,” suggests that Mather and the Hedlunds had discussed the item before and that Mather knew exactly what she meant.

The vegetable plants tell us something different about life on the new farm. Fifty cabbage plants and fifty tomato plants would have meant a substantial kitchen garden, not a few vegetables planted casually beside the house. Some of the produce would have been eaten fresh, while both cabbage and tomatoes could be preserved for later use.

The recipient is almost as interesting as the message. Cotton Mather bore one of the most recognizable names in early American history and belonged to the extended Mather family associated with the Reverend Cotton Mather of colonial New England. Although he maintained a home in Fort Collins, he also owned property north of Wellington, putting him in the same rural neighborhood as the Hedlunds. In practical terms, he was also something of a neighbor.

That helps explain the easy familiarity of Selma’s request. In April 1913 the Courier-Farmer reported that Mr. and Mrs. Mather were spending several days at the Hedlund home north of Wellington. The postcard suggests the same sort of relationship: Mather was expected to come out to the farm, and Selma felt comfortable asking him to pick up a what was probably a revolver and a hundred vegetable plants on the way.

Dating the Postcard

The back of the card also helps establish when the photograph was made. Real photo postcards were printed on commercially manufactured photographic paper, and manufacturers periodically changed the designs surrounding their postage-stamp boxes. Because particular designs were used during particular periods, collectors and historians can use them to establish approximate dates, although a stamp box by itself rarely identifies a single year.

This card was printed on VELOX paper. Its particular VELOX stamp-box design, including the small diamond-shaped marks in the corners, is consistent with the early 1910s and provides a latest date of about 1914.

The Hedlunds’ own history narrows the possibilities further. They were still living in the Rinn area in 1910 and probably established their homestead north of Wellington around 1911. The relatively new appearance of the farmstead also fits a photograph made during the next few years.

Taken together, the evidence suggests that the photograph was probably made about 1912–1914. The partially readable postmark shows May. May 1913 is particularly intriguing because the Courier-Farmer had reported Cotton and Mrs. Mather visiting the Hedlunds only the previous month. It is possible that the photograph was made around this period and that Selma mailed a copy to Mather soon afterward.

After the Postcard

The Hedlunds remained associated with the homestead north of Wellington for many years. Charles’s obituary later reported that poor health eventually forced him to give up farming in 1934, although the 1930 census had already found Charles, Selma, and Howard living in Fort Collins and Charles working in life insurance. Whether the family had already begun dividing its time between Fort Collins and the farm is not clear.

I have found no indication that Charles sold the homestead when he stopped farming it. He and Selma made Fort Collins their home during his later years. Charles remained a Fort Collins resident until his death on February 23, 1941, although he died at the Veterans Hospital in Cheyenne. His Spanish-American War service was remembered at his funeral, where he received military honors. He was buried in Grandview Cemetery in Fort Collins.

The little postcard therefore captures only a short moment in a much longer story. The buildings seem new, the prairie around them largely bare, plants just ordered for a garden, and someone had jokingly christened the place the “3H Ranch.” More than a century later, the photograph and Selma’s few handwritten lines allow us to see something of what it meant to turn a patch of northern Colorado prairie into “Hedlund’s Humble Homestead.”

If you enjoy stories like this one, click the Subscribe button to be notified whenever I publish a new post. And if you have questions, corrections, or additional information about Charles Hedlund, the Wellington area, or anything else discussed here, please leave a comment. Some of the most interesting discoveries in local history come from readers who recognize a name, place, photograph, or detail that the rest of us have missed.

Hidden Mother Photographs of Babies in Late 19th-Century Fort Collins

In the late nineteenth century, photographing babies and very young children presented a practical problem. Even after photographic technology had improved beyond the very long exposures required in the earliest decades of photography, a sitter still had to remain motionless long enough to avoid blur. Adults could usually manage that. Babies could not. One solution was to have the mother, another relative, or a studio assistant physically support the child during the exposure while trying to keep the supporting adult out of the finished portrait. Today these images are commonly called “hidden mother” photographs.

The methods varied. Sometimes the mother sat behind the child and was covered with a blanket, shawl, curtain, fur, or other fabric intended to blend into the chair or background. In other cases only an arm or hand remained visible. More skillful arrangements concealed the adult so thoroughly that a modern viewer may not immediately realize that another person was present at all. The term “hidden mother” is therefore somewhat misleading. The concealed person was not always the mother, and in many photographs the adult was not completely hidden.

Both photographs shown here are late nineteenth-century cabinet cards, one of the most popular forms of portrait photography of the period. A cabinet card generally consisted of a photographic print about 4 by 5½ inches mounted on a stiff card approximately 4¼ by 6½ inches. The photographs were made from glass-plate negatives, initially using wet-plate collodion and later, increasingly, faster dry plates. By the late nineteenth century, exposure times were much shorter than they had been a generation earlier, but the subject still needed to remain still. That made an adult’s support particularly useful when photographing an infant or a child too young to sit securely alone.

George T. Wilkins. Infant portrait, probably using the “hidden mother” technique, with an adult’s arm visible at left and possibly a second concealed adult supporting the child, ca. 1890. Author’s collection.

The first photograph was made by George T. Wilkins, one of Fort Collins’ principal portrait photographers during the last two decades of the nineteenth century. Wilkins was born in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, in 1840, served in the Civil War, and later came west. His first known Fort Collins advertisement appeared in November 1880, and in 1881 he built a photographic gallery on College Avenue. He remained in business in Fort Collins until 1899, giving him a local photographic career of nearly nineteen years.

The Wilkins portrait appears to be a particularly clear example of the hidden-mother technique, although the exact arrangement is difficult to reconstruct. At the left edge of the photograph, an adult’s arm and hand reach toward the infant, and below them is a rounded dark form that may be the same person’s bent knee or thigh. That helper seems to be sitting or crouching beside the child and reaching in to steady the infant during the exposure.

There may also be a second adult concealed directly behind the baby. The infant appears to be sitting unusually high on a broad, rounded mass that could be the covered lap and body of a seated person. That form continues upward behind the baby’s head and shoulders and does not obviously resemble ordinary studio furniture. It is possible that one adult, perhaps the mother, sat hidden beneath the covering with the baby on her lap while a second person reached in from the left to provide additional support. The photograph cannot prove that two adults were involved, but the arrangement is certainly plausible.

The second photographer, Stephen H. Seckner, was another important Fort Collins photographer of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Seckner was working in Fort Collins by the 1880s and appears in an 1892 Colorado business directory as a photographer in the city. His work extended beyond studio portraiture to include buildings, landscapes, agricultural projects, and other outdoor subjects. He remained active in Fort Collins until about 1909, when directory evidence indicates that his Walnut Street studio had been sold to Hildreth Studios.

Advertisement. Stephen H. Seckner, “Photograph for the Baby,” offering free portraits of infants under eighteen months. Fort Collins Courier, June 11, 1891.

Seckner clearly made a point of photographing young children. In June 1891 he advertised a “Photograph for the Baby” promotion, offering to photograph free of charge every baby under eighteen months brought to his gallery. The baby selected as the winner would receive one dozen photographs. The Fort Collins Historical Society has also described photographing babies as Seckner’s specialty.

Stephen H. Seckner. Infant portrait posed against a fur-covered support, possibly a particularly well-concealed “hidden mother” photograph, ca. 1890s. Author’s collection.

The Seckner portrait is more intriguing because the evidence is less obvious. The baby appears to be reclining against or upon a large fur-covered support. That could simply be studio furniture, but a darker gray form entering from the left may be an adult’s arm or sleeve. If so, this would be a particularly successful hidden-mother photograph, with the supporting adult concealed far more effectively than in the Wilkins portrait. There is not enough visible evidence to classify it with certainty, so it is best regarded as a possible hidden-mother image rather than a proven one.

Taken together, the two cabinet cards show both the usefulness and the ambiguity of the hidden-mother technique. In the Wilkins photograph, the mechanics are unusually visible, perhaps even involving two adults, one concealed beneath the child and another reaching in from the side. In the Seckner photograph, if an adult is indeed hidden beneath or behind the fur, the concealment worked so well that more than a century later we can only make an informed guess.

(FCI-1)

The Kinikinik Resort

In earlier posts, we’ve worked our way up the Poudre Canyon from Ted’s place through the Keystone Hotel. Now we are in the upper canyon, the air is crisper – and colder in the winter – and the resorts are farther apart. The Kinikinik Resort is the next one of the early resorts. It is located between mileposts 81 and 82.

The resort got its start as a ranch around 1885. It was owned by Charles Andrews and he raised Shetland ponies for the British market. The unusual name may have come from the Native American word for an indigenous, low, creeping evergreen plant. It is one of the longest place-name palindromes in the English language.

Captain Charles Williams, who served in the Colorado National Guard, took over the ranch in 1901. Because Williams loved fishing and hosting guests more than ranching, he built a store and guest cabins and a new resort was established, sometime in the 1920s, on the south side of the canyon road. Williams ran the resort until he died in 1940.

Below is a series of photographs of the resort, from 1932 through today.

Kinikinik Store, postmarked 1932. Sanborn Photograph.

This is the earliest image I have of the Kinikinik Store. It is postmarked 1932. On the back of he postcard is this note:

“Dear Mamma. This is where we stayed on our fishing trip. No luck catching fish, but it was fun just to be up in the mountains. Love Patti & Lee”

Fishing at Kinikinik, dated 1939.

Sometimes guests had much better fishing luck, as shown on this family photograph dated 1939. Their catch, if I counted right, is around 60 fish, arrayed on the Kinikinik Resort car. Their slogan is “Where Hospitality is Religion.”

Kinikinik Store, with Gas Pump, c1945. Photograph by Mark Miller.

Kinikinik Store and Cabins, dated 1947. Photograph by Mark Miller.

These two photographs, by Mark Miller, show the Kinikinik Resort at a peak period. They sold Conoco gas and supplies and had advertising signs for Coco Cola, Dairy Gold Ice Cream, cold drinks and sandwiches.

Kinikinik Store and Cabin, dated 1958.

In 1958, the Kinikinik Resort was obviously still doing well. The signage included advertisements for Coca Cola, Pepsi, Orange Crush, and Poudre Valley Ice Cream. The back of the postcard has a short note that, in part, says, “completely surrounded by many high mountains, so beautiful here.” And, of course, it was.

The resort flourished until the early 1960s but, as shown below, is now closed and badly deteriorated.

Kinikinik Store, November 1, 2019. Photograph by M. E. McNeill.

Barbara Fleming and I have written about Kinikinik in two books and in an article for Colorado History Magazine. We’ve had a chance to research it thoroughly. Rather than ending with this dismal scene, I’d like to end with a dream that might have been.

Williams, at one point, had much grander ideas for Kinikinik. Stanley Case, the author of the bible of the Poudre Canyon, The Poudre: A Photo History, found a 1915 architect’s sketch of a promotional advertisement produced by Williams. It showed the Roaring Forks Hotel, a 150-room dream for Kinikinik that never materialized. Still, it is nice to know that Captain Williams dreamed big.

1921 C.A.C. Colorado Field Grandstands

Shortly after the turn of the 20^th century, football was catching on at Colorado Agricultural College. In 1912, some students and faculty proposed a new football field, which would be sodded with grass, a revelation in the regional football conference. In May 1912, students were given a one-day holiday to plow and seed the new field. It was called Colorado Field and was located at the north end of what is now the Jack Christensen Track (northwest corner of Pitkin Street and College Avenue). The field was ready by the start of the 1912 season and was the envy of the conference. The field included a 1,000-seat steel grandstand that was replaced by a much larger grandstand in 1921.

New Grandstand C.A.C. Fort Collins, 1921. Real Photo Postcard by Sanborn

The new grandstand, on the west side of the field, ran 100-yards, from goal post to goal post. According to articles in the 1921 Fort Collins Courier, the stands were 57-feet wide, with 22 rows and “giving each person fifteen inches . . . it [would] comfortably seat 4,808 people.”

Fans entered under the stands, on the north end, and proceeded to their seats from below. The area beneath the stands also housed a row of concession stands and “two spacious toilets.” The press box, at the top of the stands, was said to comfortably seat 15 reporters.

New Grandstand C.A.C. Fort Collins, 1921, Center Enlargement

The players entered the field at ground level from the middle of the grandstand, I assume through the man door that can be seen, on the right side of this enlargement.

The new grandstand was used for the first time on October 1, 1921 in a game against the Wyoming Cowboys. The Aggies and Cowboys tied 7 to 7.

Over time Colorado Field received some upgrades, including seats on the east side of the field and, in 1948, lights for night games. Colorado Field was home to Aggie football until 1968 when Hughes Stadium opened. The grandstand stood until 1973,

“The City of Fort Collins” Atlas Missile

The 1950s and 60s were a time of increasing cold war tension. In 1949 the Soviet had successfully detonated an atomic bomb, kicking off a nuclear arms race. One aspect of the race was a series of nine Atlas missile sites under the control of Warren Air Force Base in Cheyenne, WY. Five of the nine Atlas sites were in Northern Colorado.

Five former Atlas E complexes located north of Denver. Map by US Army Corp of Engineers, 2003.

Each site contained two underground structures: a missile launch and service facility, and the launch operations center. Each launch building contained one Atlas E missile, stored horizontally. The roof would be retracted and the missile elevated to a vertical position for launch. Site #13, located 3.5 miles from Bellvue, CO, was the closest site to Fort Collins.

The Atlas E missiles were 82 feet long, fueled by a mixture of kerosene and liquid oxygen, and designed to carry a nuclear warhead. (A more peaceful version of the Atlas E carried four Mercury astronauts into Earth orbit, including John Glenn.)

On July 12, 1961, the Atlas E missile for Site 13, named “The City of Fort Collins,” arrived in Fort Collins.

“Fort Collins Gets Look at its Missile.” Published August 3, 1961 by Denver newspaper.

The caption for the photograph reads as follows:

The mayor of Fort Collins made a token acceptance of this Atlas missile, named “City of Fort Collins,” in brief ceremonies when the giant ICBM stopped for a display while being moved to one of the nation’s launch complexes. Making the presentation was Col. William E. Todd, task force commander at Warren AFB in Wyoming.

The missile was trucked down College Avenue, accompanied by Warren AFB personnel and state police officers. It stopped on North Howes Street at 7:10 a.m., for a brief ceremony, and by 9:45 a.m., “The City of Fort Collins” resumed its journey to Site 13.

The development of a new missile system, the Minuteman Missile, made the Atlas sites obsolete and, in 1965, the launch sites were decommissioned, and the missiles removed. The sites were then sold to public and private buyers, with Site 13 now being used for record storage.

Below are two Fort Collins Archive photographs, an exterior view when the site was being constructed (c1961) and an interior taken when the sale process was underway (1966).

Exterior View of Warren Missile Silo Site near Laporte, Colorado, c1961. (Fort Collins Archive H24096)

Interior View of Atlas Missile Storage Bunker During Ownership Transfer, March 23, 1966. (Fort Collins Archive C00557)

The 1960s were a different time. Today, it is hard to conceive of any situation that would lead to a weapons system ceremony in downtown Fort Collins.

The Johnstown, Colorado Sugar Beet Facility

If you have read my About Me page, you know I collect vintage images of Fort Collins and the surrounding area. The one place I go somewhat farther afield is with sugar beet photographs. I admit to a love affair with images of anything sugar beet related. In this area, I go beyond Larimer County and collect images of the 13 sugar beet facilities that are classified as Northern Colorado factories. I’ve shared images from three of these locations in the past, Fort Collins and Loveland, in separate posts on their sugar beet factories, and Windsor, CO, as part of a post on the town. (I’ve placed links to these posts at the end of this article.) In this post, I’m going to share my images of the Johnstown, CO facility.

Much of the information on the Johnstown facility comes from Footprints in the Sugar: A History of the Great Western Sugar Company, a behemoth of a book by Candy Hamilton.

In 1901, the Loveland sugar beet processing factory opened and many farmers, including those in Johnstown, were growing sugar beets. In the fall, beets had to be harvested, loaded into wagons, and transported to beet dumps for transfer to rail cars. Below are some photographs of the process in Johnstown, CO.

Drawing Beets, Johnstown, Colo. Postmarked 1908. (Photographer Unknown)

The note on the back of the postcard identifies the driver of the wagon, “Harry, this will look natural to you. It is Ed Miller driving one of Will Purvis’s teams.” Maybe someone out there will recognize these names.

Beets Arriving in Town, Johnstown, Colo. Postmarked 1909. (Photographer Unknown)

Every small town in Northern Colorado made postcards like this one, with groups of wagons, filled with sugar beets, coming to the local beet processing plant or to a rail siding to transfer their beets to rail cars. Below is a close-up of the crowd.

Beets Arriving in Town, Johnstown, Colo. Close-Up

Beet Dump, Johnstown, Colo, Postmarked 1909. (Photographer Unknown)

This is a great example of an early beet dump. I used it in an earlier post on beet dumps. The link to that post is shown below:

The Sugar Beet Dump

By 1910, sugar beet processing plants were going up all around Northern Colorado. Johnstown, despite its small population of around 200 people, wanted its own plant. Milliken, an even smaller town a few miles east of Johnstown, offered to assist in the effort. It took a while and a great deal of effort but on May 6, 1920, the Great Western Sugar Company (GWS) announced its intention to build a sugar beet factory between Johnstown and Milliken. Plans were drawn up and the plant was expected to be ready for the 1921 harvest. But, in late 1920, just months after construction started on the plant, the world sugar market collapsed, and work on the facility was halted.

GWS used the time wisely. Sugar beet possessors were struggling with the problem of what to do with discard molasses, the syrup that remains after the beets were processed. While sugar remained in the molasses, it couldn’t be economically extracted. Instead, the byproduct was sold for pennies as livestock feed. GWS was determined to use this time to find a way to successfully extract the sugar from the molasses.

GWS sent a team to Germany and France to study how they were handling molasses. The team returned with an idea and a plan that would use the unfinished Johnstown plant to process the molasses from all their sugar beet factories. New plans were drawn up, construction re-started, and the new Johnstown Molasses Desugarizing plant was operating in October 1926.

Johnstown Molasses Desugarizing Plant, October 25, 1926. (Photographer Unknown)

This image was made just prior to the plant’s grand opening. It ran in a newspaper with this caption:

Biggest of Its Kind in World – Million-dollar sugar beet molasses desugarizing plant erected at Johnstown, Colo., by the Great Western Sugar company, which will be formally dedicated Thursday, Oct. 28. This is the largest plant of its kind in the world and will add much to the prosperity of northern Colorado. The public is invited to attend the dedication.

On opening day, 4,000 visitors toured the plant. German sugar technologists visited the plant in 1928 writing, “What we have seen at Johnstown really astonished us.” The small community of Johnstown was now home to one of the most unique sugar plants in the world.

The Johnstown facility stayed relatively stable until April 1953, when GWS decided to build a monosodium glutamate (MSG) plant adjacent to the sugar facility. MSG had become an important flavor enhancer for many food products. Construction was quickly underway.

Construction of MSG Plant in Johnstown, CO, January 1, 1954. (Photographer Unknown)

This was another newspaper photograph printed on January 1, 1954 with the caption:

Under construction currently at Johnstown is this monosodium glutamate factory of the Great Western Sugar Co. When completed in October 1954, it will employ some 120 workers.

An imposing four-story structure, the new MSG plant opened in November 1954.

About the same time Johnstown’s MSG plant opened, the Fort Collins sugar beet factory closed. Sugar beets were beginning to run into hard times. One-by-one the Northern Colorado sugar plants closed. In 1977, the Johnstown plants heard the news of their closure.

Johnstown Workers Discuss News of Closing, January 4, 1977. (Photographer John Sunderland)

This photograph was from the Denver Post and ran in the newspaper on January 5, 1977 with a short caption: “Mike Evans, left, and Ernie Anderson discuss plant closings. Both will lose their jobs as mechanics when Johnstown facility shuts down.”

According to Footprints in the Sugar, both the molasses and MSG plants were closed. The plants sat idle until 1983 when Adolph Coors Co. bought the facility. Coors ran parts of the plant, under several different names, until it sold the facility to Colorado Sweet Gold (CSG), in February 1991. CSG used the plant to make cornstarch and related products. On August 3, 2001, CSG closed the plant and auctioned off much of the equipment. In 2005, many of the buildings were torn down.

CSG apparently still owns the property, their sign is still on the entrance, though I couldn’t find what it is being used for today, if anything. Below are two “now” photographs of the site, located on State Highway 60, between Johnstown and Milliken.

Colorado Sweet Gold, Johnstown, CO, September 2019. View from East Side. (Photographer M. E. McNeill)

Colorado Sweet Gold, Johnstown, CO, September 2019. View from West Side. (Photographer M. E. McNeill)

Below are the links to my earlier posts on the Fort Collins, Loveland, and Windsor sugar beet plants.

The Fort Collins Sugar Beet Factory: The Smell of Prosperity

The Loveland, Colorado Sugar Beet Factory

Images of Early Windsor, Colorado – Part 1

Windsor Town Link

The Fort Collins Masonic Temple

Masons have been active in Fort Collins since 1870. Over the years, Collins Lodge 19 grew and moved to larger quarters all shared with other organizations or businesses. In 1921, the Masons, now 600 strong, felt they could afford a freestanding temple. A committee quickly purchased a lot on the southeast corner of Howes and West Oak Streets and began planning their building.

They chose William N. Bowman, a well-known Denver, Colorado architect, to design the temple. Bowman had designed major buildings across the state, including the Weld and Jackson County Courthouses. The building design was an example of Classic Revival architecture well suited for the traditions of a Masonic temple. On October 14, 1925, the cornerstone was laid, with about 125 Masons in attendance.

Cornerstone of the Fort Collins Masonic Temple. (M. E. McNeill, September 2, 2019)

Mark Miller, an early and long-time Fort Collins photographer was hired to take photographs of the construction process. The Fort Collins Archive has the photographs, including the one shown below that they allowed Barbara Fleming and me to use in our book Fort Collins: The Miller Photographs.

Construction of the Fort Collins Masonic Temple by Mark Miller, February 1, 1926. (Fort Collins Archive, H15899)

The photograph shows a partially completed building, with materials being delivered by horse and wagon. The building took a while to construct and furnish, and it wasn’t until June 29, 1927 that the new temple was complete and opened to the public for the first time.

Close-up of the Masonic Temple Fort Collins Colorado, 1929.

The postcard is dated June 10, 1929, on the back. It seems that the temple must be decorated for the 1929 July 4^th celebration. The unusual circle on the left side of the building seems not to be a part of the decorations but rather some artifact from the developing and printing of the postcard.

On February 28, 2008, the Fort Collins Masonic Temple was added to the Colorado Registry of Historic Properties. The required nomination form describes the 77 by 103-foot building in detail. Below is the paragraph that describes the front entryway.

“The most prominent facade feature is the shallow central portico formed by six two-story tall Tuscan columns supporting a pediment. Leading up to the entry are three flights of stairs of three, five and seven steps with metal balustrades. This numeric step pattern represents Masonic symbolism. Within the portico, the entrance consists of three double doors each surmounted by a transom and pediment. Aligned above the entries are three tall narrow lattice windows with transoms. The portico frieze contains the inscription “MASONIC TEMPLE.” The tympanum contains a circular engraving of the Masonic crest–the compass, capital “G” and carpenter’s square.”

Here is a recent photograph that shows the step pattern and a closer view of the columns.

Front Portico of the Fort Collins Masonic Temple, 2019. (M. E. McNeill)

Tuscan columns are simple, unfluted shafts, with simple circular bases and capitals, with little or no carvings or ornaments. Considered strong and masculine, Tuscan columns originally were used for utilitarian and military buildings.

Below are two more images of the Fort Collins Masonic Temple, one from around 1953 and one from 2010.

Fort Collins Masonic Temple, postmarked 1953. (Photographer Unknown)

Fort Collins Masonic Temple, January 1, 2010. (Photograph by M. E. McNeill)

The nomination form also mentions that the alterations to the building, over its life have been minor. That is borne out by the 2010 photograph of the structure. The building is still in use by the Masons, though it is now surrounded by commercial buildings, such as the First National Tower on the left, rather than homes.

A 1901 Trip from Laramie, WY to Fort Collins, CO

How did a family travel to Fort Collins in 1901? Here are two pictures that can show us.

Family and Horse and Wagon, Laramie, WY, 1901 (4 ¼” x 3 ½” photo)

This is probably a family photograph taken at the start of a trip from Laramie to Fort Collins. The caption on the back reads, “Ready for the start. Wagon trip from Laramie, Wyo. To Fort Collins, Colo. – Summer, 1901.”

It looks like a family of eight beginning their trip south to Fort Collins. Here’s a close-up of the family.

Family of Eight Loading Up in Laramie, 1901

The distance from Laramie to Fort Collins is about 65 miles. A two-horse wagon might have traveled 20-miles, at best, over the kind of roads between Wyoming and Colorado in 1901. That means this family faced at least a three-day trip. (If someone has a better estimate of the time between the two towns in a horse and wagon, I’d love to hear it.)

But we know from a second photograph that they probably made it. Here it is:

The caption on the back of this photograph, in the same handwriting as the other photograph, reads, “Our trusty team. On the way to Fort Collins, Colo. – Summer, 1901.”

I’m not sure where this photograph was taken on the Poudre River but, by the width of the river and the size of the bridge, I’d guess it was close to Fort Collins.

How times have changed. Today we wouldn’t think twice about going to Laramie for lunch.

Jefferson Street, Fort Collins, 1887

Below is a great photograph of Jefferson Street, in Fort Collins, CO, apparently made in 1887.

Jefferson Street, Fort Collins, 1887. (Cabinet Card, 8 ½” x 5 ¼” By David Lamon)

The image is taken from the intersection of Jefferson and Linden Street, shooting northwest up Jefferson Street towards College Avenue. The building on the right is the Tedmon House, one of the premier early hotels of Fort Collins. The Tedmon House, located on the northwest corner of the Linden/Jefferson intersection, opened in April 1880 and was torn down in 1910, along with many other buildings, to make way for a railroad expansion.

Here is a close-up of the Tedmon House.

Tedmon House, 1887.

This image was taken by David Lamon, a Denver photographer, and, a handwritten note on the reverse side, indicates it was taken in 1887. That date certainly falls in the life span of the Tedmon House, but we might be able to get closer by investigating the City Drug Store that occupied the near end of the Tedmon House when this photograph was taken.

Frank P. Stover’s City Drug Store moved around the Linden/Jefferson intersection, occupying three different corners until he sold it in 1919.

• City Drug Store opened in 1873 in Old Grout, on the southwest corner of the Linden/Jefferson intersection. Old Grout was one of the early buildings of Fort Collins, built in 1866. At different times, Old Grout served as a warehouse, housed church services, was used as the county courthouse, and was home to City Drug.
• In 1874, City Drug moved across Linden Street to the southeast corner of the intersection into the new Yount Bank Building.
• In 1879, work began on the Tedmon House and, apparently, Stover decided it would help his business to become one of their keystone tenants. On April 1, 1880, The Fort Collins Courier ran a major article on Stover’s new City Drug Store, now located in the Tedmon House, saying it was “simply magnificent and worthy of a visit by every admirer of the artistic. Mr. Stover has succeeded in fitting up his rooms in a manner that not only reflects credit on himself but on the town also.” The northwest corner of the intersection was now home to City Drug.
• In 1881 or 1882, Old Grout had been torn down and Stover had the chance to build his own building on the original location of City Drug. As early as July 1882, the local papers were reporting on the progress of his construction, called the Keystone Block, and predicting an October opening. But on the morning of September 19, 1882, just a few weeks before opening, the new building caught fire and burned to the ground. Apparently. Stover was able to renew his agreement with the Tedmon House and stayed there until late 1887 or early 1888.
• On January 5, 1888, a newspaper article described a “lively party” in the room of the Tedmon House formerly occupied by City Drug Store. So, by this date, Stover was out of the Tedmon House. Stover finally had his own building for the City Drug Store and it was back on the southwest corner of Linden and Jefferson Streets, where it would stay until he sold the business in 1919.

This image must have been made prior to January 5, 1888, so the 1887 date written on the back of the photograph seems to be correct.

Below are two more enlargements. The first one is a close-up of the front of the Tedmon House, and the people lounging and working there.

Front of the Tedmon House, 1887

Here we have six men and a dog. The two most interesting things to me are the man spraying Jefferson Street, I suppose to keep the dust down, and the mortar and pestle mounted on the pole on the right side of the image. Mortars and pestles were traditionally used in pharmacies to crush various ingredients prior to preparing a prescription. The mortar and pestle is one of the most pervasive symbols of pharmacology, and was probably installed by Stover to mark his drug store.

The last image is a close-up of the other side of Jefferson Street, in 1887.

“The Other Side of the Street,” Jefferson Street, 1887

This side of the photograph isn’t as clear, but, on the original, I can make out the signage. Also, the Fort Collins Archive has identified the three buildings in the row.

The first building is the Courier Building, possibly home to the Fort Collins Courier at that time. You can see the “Harness Shop” sign on the front and the “Courier” and “Feed Store” signs on top. The second, or middle building, is the Vandewark Block. The sign in front of it reads “Vandewark & Gordon/Grain Flour Feeds/Agricultural Implements.” The last building in line, with no visible signs, is the Jefferson Block.

There seems to be an empty lot at the Linden Street end of the row of buildings. I’d guess that it was the location of Old Grout, the 1882 fire that destroyed the Keystone Building, and the eventual location of City Drug, when Stover left the Tedmon House.

I hope you enjoyed this look back at Jefferson Street in 1887.

Stop the Death Train and Senator John Kefalas

On March 18, 1983, eight people linked arms and knelt on the railroad tracks on Mason Street just north of Mulberry Street in peaceful protest of a white train said to be carrying nuclear weapons from Texas to a submarine base in Bangor, WA. They were probably wearing one of the buttons shown below.

“Stop the Death Train” Pinback, 1983

These trains, used to move nuclear weapons from the 1950s to the 1980s, looked entirely ordinary, except for a few key details. They featured multiple heavily armored boxcars sandwiched in between “turret cars,” which protruded above the rest of the train. The turrets had slit windows through which armed DOE guards peered out, prepared to shoot to defend the train. Some guards had simple rifles, while others reportedly had automatic machine guns and hand-grenade launchers. The trains were highly resistant to attack and unauthorized entry, offered a high degree of cargo protection in event of fire or serious accident, and they were painted white.

When news of the 1983 white train spread through the county, “peace blockades” were established along the route. One online article said that as many as 450 cities and towns, along the route, were involved. In Fort Collins, the train came within feet of the eight protestors, who were dragged from the track and arrested by city police officers.

One of the protestors was John Kefalas, now a Colorado State Senator representing District 14.