A Brief History of the Union Brewery in Iowa City

Workers outside a brewery in the 1860s

The Union Brewery in Iowa City felt like a place that survived on nerve alone. Built in 1856 by Simeon Hotz, a shoemaker turned brewer, it grew into a brick stronghold at Linn and Market, a place the Iowa State Register said operated with “a confidence that must be admired, considering the temperance sentiment now fashionable in the Capitol.”

The brewery didn’t just sell beer — it sold identity. Hotz and Anton Geiger were German immigrants who brought their lager brewing with them, and Iowa City drank it up like a man who’d been wandering the prairie too long.

 

By 1868 they expanded into the big building — three stories, beer cellars underneath, steam heat, the whole industrial symphony. Locals wandered in and out of the taproom, leaving footprints in the sawdust and carrying home gossip hotter than the kettles.

Mason Motor Car Company Des Moines Iowa

Mason Motor Co. ad, 1906

The first thing you need to know about the Mason Motor Car Company is that it never should have worked. Not in Des Moines, not in 1906, not in a state where most people still trusted a good horse over any contraption that hissed, rattled, and tried to kill you on a dirt road. Yet for a few bright, reckless years, two brothers with machine oil on their hands and speed on their minds tried to drag Iowa—kicking, screaming, and occasionally bleeding—into the automobile age.

Fred and August Duesenberg weren’t normal. They looked at a peaceful bicycle and thought, What if this thing went 60 miles an hour and tried to shake its rider’s fillings out? The Des Moines Daily News called them “the sort of young men who consider mechanical noise to be a form of conversation.” They were tinkerers, racers, mechanics, engineers—whatever you want to call them—but above all, they were hungry. Hungry for speed, recognition, and the clean snapping sound an engine makes when it finds its rhythm and behaves. So when Des Moines attorney Edward Mason threw some money at them and said, “Make a car,” they didn’t hesitate. They built the Mason, a small, explosive two-cylinder machine that rattled windows, terrified horses, and made its owners feel like they were cheating death—or at least borrowing trouble from it.

 

Hopkins Bros. Baseball Team Des Moines

 

Hopkins Bros. Baseball Team

Top of letter: “Smoke” Madigan, Thomas, Bowman, Parsons, Honska.
Bottom of letter: Franklin, Evans, Fahey (manager).
Left side: Crandall, Mendenhall.
Right side: Wilkinson (captain), Wasson.

(Des Moines Register. June 17, 1906.

Senator Frank Jones Villisca Axe Murder Suspect

 

Ever since the Villisca Axe Murders, there had been rumors that Frank Jones and his son Albert had skin in the game. Some residents traced it back to when Joe Moore left Jones’ implement business and opened his John Deere dealership. Supposedly, there had been hard feelings ever since.

Another story making the rounds was that Joe Moore was sleeping with Albert Jones’ wife. But that allegation held little water; rumors had linked Dona Jones to half the men in Villisca.

Like the case against Mansfield, the charges against Jones went nowhere. Investigators brought in more suspects over the years, but nothing came of it.

West Liberty Tourist Camp Murder

Harland Gabe Simons

The West Liberty tourist camp murder hit the front pages in July 1924 like a thunderclap.

Orton and Diana Ferguson had been on the road for almost a year, wandering up and down the West Coast, drifting from camp to camp, letting the dirt roads decide their path. July 12 was Diana’s thirty-fourth birthday. They were heading home to Atlanta, Michigan, tired but happy, planning to catch a concert in town and sleep under the stars afterward.

 

They pulled into the West Liberty camp just before dusk. A man stepped out of the trees and waved them down. He called himself the park ranger.

 

He told them someone had spilled crankcase oil on the grass up front. He’d show them a better spot. Something quiet. Something private.

 

He guided them deep into the grounds, well away from the other travelers. He helped them settle in, then said he had other campers to look after, and vanished between the tents.

 

His name was Harland “Gabe” Simons.

 

Later that afternoon, he reappeared, casual as a neighbor dropping by to borrow sugar. He chatted, joked, and offered to watch their tent while they went into town. He seemed kind. Polite. Harmless.

William "Blackie" Mansfield Villisca Murder Suspect

In mid-June 1916, newspaper headlines across the state screamed, “Great crime at Villisca now solved.” William Mansfield, an ex-convict and dope fiend, better known in his circle as “Insane Blackie,” was the killer.

The key to the case was the ax murders in Blue Island, Illinois, of Mansfield’s wife, infant daughter, and mother-in-law and father-in-law. Investigators also placed him in Paola, Kansas; Aurora, Illinois, and Villisca, Iowa when those gruesome murders occurred.

Detective J. N. Wilkerson of the Burns Detective Agency ferreted out the link.

Unfortunately, the case fell apart after Mrs. Elmo Thompkins, who claimed to have overheard three men plotting the Villisca murders, failed to identify Mansfield in court.

The prosecution dismissed the case against William Mansfield on July 21, 1916.

New Masonic Temple in Davenport Iowa

John Soller & Sons landed the contract to build Davenport’s new Masonic Temple in June 1921. The papers said it would be the finest Masonic building in the entire country, and with a price tag of a million dollars, nobody argued.

The project was huge for the Tri-Cities — the biggest construction job anyone around here had taken on. The new temple was planned to be 150 feet wide, 160 feet long, and 100 feet high. Trinity Church had to come down to make room, and its stone was crushed and packed into the new foundation.

Construction was supposed to take a year and a half. John Soller said it would be ready for the Shrine and Consistory classes in the fall of 1922.

The dining room was expected to seat 1,200 people, and there’d be a billiard room, game room, and even a soda fountain.

Speed Boat Races at Campbell's Island Davenport 1921

 

This advertisement for Campbell's Island appeared in the Davenport Democrat and Leader on August 10, 1921.

Iowa State Cyclones Cross Country Running Team 1922

 

Iowa State Cyclones Cross Country Running Team 1922. 

(left to right): Brown, Rathbun, Holcomb, McIntyre, Coach Art Smith, Hollowell, and Seaton.

Thomas Mayberry Hero of the Kirkwood Hotel Fire

The Kirkwood Hotel at the turn of the century

There were roughly 150 people in the Kirkwood Hotel in Des Moines when it caught fire early on April 5, 1929. Six people died in the inferno. A dozen more were hospitalized. Several jumped from fourth-floor windows trying to escape. They didn’t make it.

 

A night clerk told investigators he put out a small fire in a linen closet at 2:15 a.m. Forty-five minutes later, the fire was back. When he tried to reach it, the smoke stopped him.

 

Porter Thomas Mayberry turned in the alarm around 3 a.m. “I went back to wake people up,” he said. “Women and men were screaming and moaning, and the smoke was terrible.”