Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Minot and Sawyer



Monday, June 24, Day 63 

My father came to this country from Sweden in 1909, along with another brother.  They traveled on a ship called the Celtic, owned by the White Star Line, the same shipping line that lost the Titanic just a few years later in 1912.

They came to join their oldest brother, who had arrived in 1901.  He had settled outside of Minot, North Dakota, near a town called Sawyer.  They were in a township called Newman.  As near as I can tell, Elmer didn't have a destination in mind, but a shipmate was going to Hutchinson, North Dakota.  Elmer put that down on the ship manifest too, and accompanied the other guy to this area.   I don't think 
Hutchinson ND still exists.

 I am in a quest for the gravesite of my Uncle Elmer and other family members.  They are buried near
Sawyer.

This is downtown Sawyer.  The current population is 357.  It was incorporated in 1898, just three years before my Uncle Elmer got here.  It is right on the Mouse River, the same river that flows through Minot.  It has flooded badly in recent years, and once again a lot of people lost homes and farmlands.  It is near flood stage now.   The Canadians call this river Souris, which also means mouse.The river runs north. Apparently the surveyors in the early west had their camp overrun by mice at night, and used that name to denote the area.  

The town has a post office, two bars and a grocery store.  I went into the grocery store for help in finding the Willis Cemetery.  Like most rural cemeteries, it is carved out of someone's farm, and if you are not really familiar with all of the area, you most likely have never heard of it.

In this instance, the lady in the grocery store said she knew about it, and in fact had relatives buried there, although she hadn't been there in years.  She put me on the phone with "Dale", who proceeded to give me the following directions.

"Go back out 52 until you come to Pointers Egg Supply.  Turn left on the county road.  It will be really windy, with lots of coulees.  Go up on top five or six miles until you come to a real nice house, ranch style, made out of brick.  The name on the mailbox will be Ken Cresbo.  Turn left, and go about 3 miles and you'll come to it. "

We had already followed some directions from the lady at the library, only to come to barricades because the road was washed out and too muddy.  Dale assures us that the road he has described, being a county road, will be OK. 


This is a copy of the plat map for Ward County.  It looks a bit complicated, and it is!  Each section of land is divided into quarters.  Each homesteader was entitled to a quarter of a section, or 160 acres.

One of the areas my Uncle Elmer had was number 30 below.  Isn't that always the way it is?  It's not on the map, but handwritten in.

And he had another portion of a quarter.  One great thing about Plat Maps is that they list the name of the person owning it.


Here's a closeup of Newman Township.


Sawyer, according to this book, was near the rail road.  Ironic that the name was Celtic in origin and the name of  the ship my father arrived on was the Celtic. Also the "Soo" line comes from the pronunciation of the French word "Sault " as in Sault St. Marie or the way the word "Sioux" is pronounced.


Despite the small size, there is a welcoming sign on both sides of the road.


The sky is looking ominous once again, but the county road is good, and it takes us on a windy road, through coulees, just like Dale said.



I know this is a broken record, but there is so much water.  I hope the cemetery is not filled with water. 

There it is, in that stand of trees!  It has taken us several hours to find it, but here it is at last.  The last time I was in this area, I was three years old.   No one was buried here then, but I have thought about them all these years.


I don't know how many people are buried here, but it has a nice entry way.

And perhaps the most prominent stone is right in front, and belongs to my family.  Between the stone and the bushes are six family graves.

The first is Uncle Elmer's second wife, Seraphine.  She was a full blooded Assiniboin (or sometimes listed as Saulteaux) Canadian Indian from the Cowessess Reserve, Crooked Lake Agency.  She had been married before and had two children by her previous marriage, one with Elmer. Everyone loved her and described her as a "real lady."

And here is Elmer.  He farmed for a long time, and then moved into Minot in later years.  He obviously chose to be buried near his original homestead.

Amanda was Norwegian, and had claimed a homestead of her own before she married Elmer.  She brought a four year old son to the marriage, Samuel McCoy Olson (her maiden name).  Her large family lived in the eastern part of the state.  A famous relative of hers is Lute Olson, who was the winning head coach at the University of Arizona for many years.

Mildred Catherine was an infant who only lived 10 days.  Her sister Christine always spoke of her and the great loss.


Sammie, as he was called, was the only one of Elmer's children to stay and farm.  He later also moved to town and worked for a dairy.

James, or Jim was Sammie's son.  I talked to him over the phone and have met his wife a couple of times.  I'm sorry I never got to meet him in person.  He lived in Arizona.

Once again, we had a fly over.  OK it's a crop duster, but nevertheless, I feel like it is a tribute to my family buried here.



Now, how to get out of here.  We have tried a couple of roads, to no avail.  John has been super nice about all of this.  (He calls himself Mr. Agradable.  Long story.)




This is the muddy intersection we had to maneuver for the second time, in order to get back on the highway.  We have decided to head south to a campground by Garrison Dam.

We stopped in the town of Dodge, where this little store  says is has everything we need.  It is common in the midwest to call carbonated drinks, "Pop. "  I grew up calling it Pop.  Once at a friend's house we made random telephone calls and asked "Do you have pop in a bottle? " If they replied, "Yes," we said, "Well why don't you let him out?  He's late for dinner."   Pretty funny to a 10 year old!

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