Peering at the Past Market – Day and Meeting the 8 O’clock Evening Train

Moist air was good for wool is what wool buyer John Redding told teenager Cliff Orr, who had asked why there were so many pails of water in the shed near the railroad stockyards. It was May or June, about 1909, and “market day” in Houston, Minn. About 15 years old, Cliff had the job of driving the “two-seater” horse-drawn buggy that transported five women, including his sister, mother and aunt into town.

Beside selling wool from the farm family’s five or six sheep, Cliff’s aunt, Caroline Beardsley, brought fresh eggs and a crock of homemade butter to sell.

Beside marketing, there were festivities to enjoy on market day. Jimmy Jameson, a bachelor from Mound Prairie won the foot race, sprinting east from Rowland’s Store for about a block. “Jimmy was so far ahead of everyone else, probably because he had been practicing and ran barefooted,” surmised Cliff. “He was really tickled as his prize was a new jackknife.”

The major event was a tug-o-war between the east and the west, held on the street by Vathing’s Hardware. “All at once, someone stepped in from the crowd and cut the new rope; both sides fell apart.”

These memories were recorded 50 summers ago for Houston’s Charter Year Celebration in 1974. Houston, founded in 1852, was incorporated in 1874. The following were recollections of sisters Cora Peterson (born 1896) and Nina (born1903). Back in 1890 what would become their town lot at 201 S. Grant was “a deep hole where the young people of this area, as we’ve been told, used this spot as a sliding and skating place.”

Beset with water problems, it was decided to fill in the entire village of Houston with sand. Property owners filled in their own lots before building. Older homes were elevated with new foundations. The entire town was thus raised one to three feet. The Peterson lot was raised higher than most. “Dad knew about the flooding that always took place.

“High board fences and walks were common in earlier days and during flood times. We youngsters would run and stomp across these high walks and watch flood waters spurt up between the boards. Kids would be kids.”

At one time, people around Houston were permitted to keep chickens, pigs or cows on their property. In summer, the cows were driven to pasture up to Rowland’s Bluff, south of what later became Grant Drive. Later on, they were pastured in VerVatt’s Woods across the railroad tracks to the northwest. Both morning and night, people went to the pasture to milk their cows and returned home with large pails of milk. Nina recalled peddling milk to several families around town for five cents a quart.

It was a treat to skim thick cream from jars of cold milk kept in a water cooler. Later came ice boxes and ice delivered all over town by the ice man. “Youngsters tagged along trying to pick up pieces of ice to chew.” Cora said it was also a special treat to run over to the boarding room house across the street to get a rolled-up pancake, spread with butter and sugar.

Attached to the blacksmith shop was a woodworking shop. Before there were automobiles,  “a familiar sight in front of the shops was the setting of (rubber) wagon wheel tires on a big fire near the street. Nearby was a large wooden trough filled with water from our flowing well, used to cool the hot tires after fitted to the wooden wagon wheels. In the mid-1800s, rubber tires were developed, and solid runner strips were fitted to coach and wagon wheels to some extent cushion a really rough ride on unpaved roads.

There were four hotels in Houston well before 1900, two of which featured a “sample room,” where traveling salesmen displayed their merchandise. Salesmen traveled throughout the area by horse-drawn wagons and the railroad. The manager of the Windsor Hotel sent her sons to meet the evening train and transport the salesmen and their many trunks by wagon to the elite hotel at the time.

Hazel Olson (born 1890) said she and other girls used to work at the Comstock Hotel (formerly the Hotel Brunswick), serving “wonderful meals.” There were about 14 rooms that frequently housed railroad crews. “If we scrubbed the dining room floor, we could dance that evening.” All the girls were “crazy about Dave,” the oldest Comstock son.

Effie Hanson Bechel looked back at managing the Sherman House for a few years after World War I ended in 1918. “It was quite a job to wash clothes for all the beds and sometimes even the roomers’ clothes. Then there was all the ironing, too.” There were seven bedrooms at the Sherman House, but not always indoor plumbing.

While telephone lines were being installed, 45 men took meals in the Sherman House dining room where family-style meals were served three times a day. But dessert, pudding or pie, was served only on Sunday.

In the early 1900s, Houston was a busy, thriving economic center, population 700 in 1910 – the leading cattle-shipping location in the Midwest, according to local historian Ingrid Julsrud (born 1900). Hogs and cattle were loaded onto freight trains and sent off to Chicago. Two freight trains arrived each day, along with four passenger trains.

“A favorite pastime was to meet the 8 o’clock evening train to see who came to town and who went away. The evening paper came in on this train, so many were there to get their paper.” In the early 1900s, without radios and televisions, people got the news from daily newspapers and telegraph. News of great importance was telegraphed to the local train depot and then spread by word of mouth or telephone.

Stores, saloons and restaurants were open every night of the week until sometime between 1910 and 1915 when merchants decided to be open only on Wednesday and Saturday nights. “This really caused a fervor and some angry statements from customers,” wrote Julsrud. “But it was finally accepted.”

Sources: booklet, Houston Charter Year Centennial Celebration, 1974; Remembering Old Times, Houston During the Post Card Era by Ingrid Julesrud,1993