Belle Mehus

By SARAH WALKER

Oct. 24 — A city is ever-changing and ever-growing. Businesses move around and eventually, one place becomes another, until soon, the city’s face is transformed from what it has been a decade, a year or even just a month ago.

In Bismarck, there is a spot along Eighth Street and Rosser that housed many different activities. It was once the old Baptist Church. From there, it became the North Dakota Education Association. And finally, it was remodeled into a Conservatory — into Miss Belle Mehus’ very own dream-conservatory.

On this day, movers were still unloading items into the new studio that would soon blossom under the guidance of her “family.” It would become the personal quarters of Belle Mehus and her cat Rene, as well as a haven for the teaching staff of the Mehus Conservatory and their scads of students.

It was not the auditorium that Bismarck now knows; that’s located on Sixth Street. It was a little space full of her “own ingenious, practical and imaginative ideas.”

There was the curved staircase; the multi-colored, irregularly checked pattern of the carpet; the wrought iron railings; the soft green wallpaper “with gold floral tracery” adorning the walls. A mirrored wall in the reception room and the abundance of mirrors throughout the building “reflect Miss Mehus’s conviction that they lend dignity and have a quieting effect on students.”

Royal Hopkins selected “red corduroy for upholstery and drapery, modern paintings and a green carpet” in one room, while David Christiansen had not yet chosen what he wanted for decor in another, and in yet another, “Mrs. Bonnie Evans has the third studio, where tapestries and hangings will be used for decorative and acoustic effect.”

In the “center of the stage” in each studio sat a grand piano, “with an upright in a supporting role.” Each door also had soundproofing.

And in her own, specially contrived space, Belle Mehus had a small but efficient kitchen, a bathroom with pink faucets, a display of her treasures throughout her personal domain, a picture of herself in her youth. No space seemed wasted.

The move in was six weeks behind schedule because everything was to be “just so,” and there was a planned open house for November, but a behind-the-scenes preview of Belle Mehus’ new conservatory was “interesting and revealing.” Revealing, perhaps, because the choices reflected Belle Mehus herself.

NPL 50th Anniversary

By JIM DAVIS

Oct. 25 — On this date in 1965, the halls of the Patterson Hotel were once again filled with members of the Nonpartisan League. Representatives were arriving for the Midwest Democratic Conference hosted by Gov. William Guy, with Vice President Hubert Humphrey as guest speaker. But the occasion was also being used to honor the 50th anniversary of the founding of the Nonpartisan League.

Hundreds of former members, some with cards dating back to 1915, gathered in the Patterson, where many NPL schemes had been hatched over the years. Art Link served as master of ceremonies and veteran boosters described events of the past such as legislation creating the Bank of North Dakota, the State Mill and Workmen’s Comp. Once again, the NPL battle cry “We’ll Stick, We’ll Win” reverberated from the walls.

Wilson vs. El Tex, the Tiger

By TESSA SANDSTROM

Oct. 26 — The death of Steve Irwin, better known as the Crocodile Hunter, was a shock to some, and the inevitable to others. But, before Steve Irwin, there were others who put themselves at eye level with dangerous predators, and one of them was Bert Wilson, the superintendent of Minot parks. Wilson, however, seemed to have less caution — and perhaps common sense — than Irwin when dealing with animals.

Wilson had already come face to face with a mountain lion in the Minot zoo, and would have been killed if he hadn’t been carrying a hammer. When the lion attacked, Wilson defended himself with the hammer, knocking out three of the lion’s teeth. The next big cat Wilson fought, however, had a much worse fate.

Wilson’s next skirmish with a large cat took place today in 1926. While on a visit to Houston for the National Convention of the American Parks Executives, Wilson visited the Houston Zoo during an inspection tour. The tour brought him to the cage of El Tex, the tiger. Wilson entered the cage to inspect it, but El Tex stood in his way. Wilson must have thought he was in a position of authority, because Wilson slapped the tiger’s face and ordered it back. The orders seemed to anger El Tex, because he sprung at Wilson. Wilson, however, still didn’t back down, and punched the tiger, sending him into M.E. Irwin, the superintendent of the Tulsa zoo.

This only deterred El Tex slightly, and he sprang at Wilson again. Knowing he couldn’t escape, Wilson clinched El Tex to him, while an attendant took aim at the tiger. The attendant shot El Tex in the heart and Wilson sprang back. El Tex took one last lunge at Wilson, catching his left leg before dying.

In the end, Wilson received 29 stitches on his leg, left shoulder, and face. But this was not all Wilson received in his battle. El Tex was skinned, with the possibility that it might be given to Wilson. Wilson also got the bullet that killed El Tex. Wilson reported he was going to have it gold-plated to carry as a watch charm.

It was later thought that the tiger’s reason for attack was the fact that Wilson had been carrying a pet rat in his front pocket, with which he was going to play a trick on a friend. How the rat fared in the battle between Wilson and El Tex, the tiger, was not reported.

Indian Legend

By JIM DAVIS

Oct. 27 — There once was a legend of a young Chippewa boy, the son of a prominent chief, who was captured by the Sioux. Rather than ransom him, the Sioux would place the young lad at the front of a raid on Chippewa bands and rather than risk killing their chief’s son, the Chippewa warriors would withdraw. For eight years, the boy remained among the Sioux and his captors had come to believe that he had lost all interest in his own tribe.

One morning, upon awakening, the Sioux Chief Iron Heart discovered that his daughter, who had been promised in marriage to a noble warrior, had sneaked out of camp during the night with the young Chippewa. The jilted warrior, learning of this treachery, immediately decked himself in war paint and started on the trail.

The lovers were overtaken on the hill near Medicine Lake in what is now Eddy County and the young warriors prepared for battle over the hand of the beautiful young lady. Armed with dirk knives, the two combatants fought furiously and within a short period of time, both lay dead from their wounds.

The heartbroken maiden made her way to the shores of Devils Lake and on the high bluffs overlooking the south shore of the lake, dressed in her finest light deerskin dress, she sang a beautiful love song and wailed at the loss of her lover. After several days, she ascended Battle Ax Hill, and with her hair streaming in the wind, she threw herself into the waters of Devils Lake some 200 feet below.

Legend states that each year, on this date, a mermaid appears and basks in the waters of the lake for a few hours, only to disappear once again for another year.

Legends are a curious blend of fact and fiction, and often it is difficult to separate the two, for on this date, in 1900, Mr. J. M. Mulvey, while hunting near Medicine Lake, stumbled upon the skeletons of two young men and beside each lay a dirk knife.

On an early autumn day, across the bay from Fort Totten, some have claimed to hear the lyrical love song of the maiden. Possibly, ever so briefly, through the morning mist a form can be made out playing along the shore, or perhaps it’s merely the white froth from the waves slapping against the rocks below Battle Ax Hill.

The Groaning Apple Barrel

By TESSA SANDSTROM

Oct. 28 — When a group of Italians rolled an apple barrel down the tracks to Charlie Porter today in 1913, and asked to have it shipped to Chicago, the last thing Charlie expected was for the barrel to talk. But, when Charlie moved the barrel down the platform at Wolford and tipped it on end, he heard the barrel groan. With visions of the ‘black hand’ in mind, Charlie took an axe to the barrel. A plea for caution came from the barrel, and Charlie tore the end off to find the upside-down Italian.

It turns out, the man was homesick for Chicago and his friends assured him the cheapest way to get back to Chicago was to be shipped as freight. The Italian man concealed himself in the apple barrel with a bottle of water and a couple loaves of bread, and had his friends roll him to the platform. When Charlie moved the barrel, however, he failed to see the words “This end up” on the barrel and tipped the man on his head. This elicited a groan from the Italian, which lead to his discovery.

“Dakota Datebook” is a radio series from Prairie Public in partnership with the State Historical Society of North Dakota and with funding from Humanities North Dakota.