Iowa Military Units at Camp Dodge

The Des Moines Register (October 7, 1917) published these pictures of Iowa soldiers at Camp Dodge, training for overseas duty in World War I. It's an interesting look at army life.

Sioux City men of Company A training at Camp Dodge.

Pictures From The Villisca Axe Murders

On October 7, 1917, the Des Moines Register published these photograpghs of the Villisca Axe Murder house and some of the victims and suspects. I hadn't seen a few of these before so I thought they were worth a look.

The Villisca Axe Murder house as it appeared in 1917.

Luther College Decorah, Iowa circa 1910

 

Main building at Luther College in Decorah, Iowa (circa 1900-1910 - watercolor after a vintage postcard)

Inn at Fejervary Park Davenport Iowa

Fejervary Park feels easy now. Wide lawns. Trees. Walking paths. Families with coolers and kids running loose.

But for a stretch of time, it had an inn sitting right at its center.

Nicholas Fejervary built the mansion in the 1800s, up on the bluff with a clear view of the Mississippi. It wasn’t tucked away. It was meant to be seen.

In 1902, his daughter gave the property to the city of Davenport. The mansion became an inn.

And Davenport used it.

Weddings filled the rooms. Clubs held meetings there. Community dinners ran long into the evening. If something important was happening in town, it was happening at the Fejervary Inn. People dressed up, shook hands, and looked out over the river like it were part of the evening.

It didn’t last. By the 1930s, the building had been torn down.

Now it’s just park. Grass under your shoes. Trees overhead. A regular afternoon.

But once upon a time, this wasn’t just green space. It was where the entire town turned out for events and celebrations.

Pleasant View Sanitarium in Washington, Iowa (circa 1900-1910)

 

Pleasant View Sanitarium in Washington, Iowa (circa 1900-1910)

City Hall in Iowa City (circa 1900-1905)

 

City Hall building in Iowa City, Iowa (circa 1900-1905)

Muscatine Company Starts Work on “Littlemac” Auto Plant

In late 1929, the Thompson Motor Corporation began construction on a new automobile manufacturing plant in Muscatine, with plans to build a small, lightweight car unlike anything else on the road.

The company was led by Herbert G. Thompson, mayor of Muscatine. The new venture was capitalized at $1 million and aimed to produce three different models of a compact automobile called the “Littlemac.”

The Littlemac was designed to weigh less than half as much as a typical light car of the day. The vehicle would weigh about 1,100 pounds and stand between five and six feet high. Despite its smaller size, the company claimed it could reach speeds of 75 miles per hour.

It featured a 50-inch wheelbase and a 40-inch tread. A specially designed axle system was built to keep the car steady while turning corners. Power came from an 18-horsepower Red Seal Continental engine.

Castle At Eagle Point Park Clinton Iowa

The castle at Eagle Point Park in Clinton, Iowa, is one of the most recognizable landmarks in town. Built by WPA workers in the 1930s, it rises over the park and gives a stunning view of the Mississippi River.

Footbridge At Eagle Point Park Clinton Iowa

During the 1930s, when jobs were scarce and money tighter, Clinton turned to New Deal programs to put people to work and improve the city’s parks.

Crews funded through the Works Progress Administration carved paths into the bluffs and stacked local limestone by hand. They built walls, steps, shelters—and this bridge. Every stone was set to look like it belonged there, rising naturally out of the ravine instead of fighting it.

The footbridge stitched the park together. Trails met there. Families crossed it on Sunday walks, and kids leaned over the side to watch water trickle below after a rain. After dark, more than one teen cracked a six-pack to experience their first drink.

Decades later, it’s still here. A reminder that even during the worst years, people built things meant to carry others forward.

Polk County Juvenile Home 1927

The Des Moines Register printed this picture of the Polk County Juvenile Home on March 15, 1927. The home was located at Hull Avenue and East Sixteenth Street in Des Moines.

Drake University Football Players 1927

Drake University football players: Gibson Holliday (center); Charles “Chuck” Delmege (right); Lester Jones (left).

Photo from the Des Moines Register. December 23, 1927.

R. Sieler's Saxaphone Orchestra Sioux City

R. Sieler’s Saxophone Orchestra played dance tunes for Sioux City listeners on KSCJ radio.

Members (left to right): Marvin Johnson (trombone); L. Fredericks (banjo); L. Gunderson (cornet); R. Sielers (saxaphone); T. De Mare (percussionist); N. Connovar (saxaphone); and A. Flurie (piano).

Photo from the Sioux City Journal. July 24, 1927.

Fox War Chief Sogonapothanji

Sogonapothanji was a Meskwaki (Fox) war chief in what is now eastern Iowa. His name meant “He Slew Three Sioux,” and it wasn’t a metaphor. It was a record.

Among the Meskwaki, names like this marked what a man had done, not what he hoped to be remembered for. Sogonapothanji’s reputation came from direct conflict with the Dakota (Sioux), longtime enemies in a region where raids and counter-raids were part of daily reality. Survival depended on speed, strength, and nerve. Leaders proved themselves in action.

He was not a council chief. His authority came from warfare—planning attacks, leading fighters, and defending Meskwaki territory when violence broke out. Killing enemy warriors was dangerous, personal work. Doing it more than once mattered. Doing it three times gave him a name people remembered.

By the time Americans began building forts and pressing westward, men like Sogonapothanji were already veterans of another kind of struggle. Intertribal warfare didn’t pause for treaties or survey lines. It continued even as a new and far larger threat crept into the region.

Meskwaki Chief Taimah

Chief Taimah was a Meskwaki (Fox) leader in the early nineteenth century, known less for fighting than for dealing with Americans face to face. That alone made his job dangerous.

He was a civil chief. A negotiator, expected to sit through long councils, listen to translators stumble through his words, and answer to officials who already believed the outcome was decided. Taimah understood that once something was said, it lived on paper. And paper lasted longer than promises.

He spent years moving through that system. Treaty talks. Delegations. Repeated demands that the Meskwaki give up land and move west. Saying no often brought soldiers. Saying yes brought regret. Taimah chose his words carefully because there were no good options left—only less immediate disasters.

He wasn’t naïve. When he signed treaties, it wasn’t trust. It was calculation. Delay could mean another season on familiar ground. Another year to plant corn. Another chance to keep families together before removal became unavoidable.

George Catlin said he was calm, dignified, and deliberate. He noticed how carefully Taimah dressed and carried himself. That wasn’t vanity. It was strategy. Appearance spoke before words did.

Pashepaho, The Little Stabbing Chief

Pashepaho, sometimes written as Pah-e-pa-ho,  was a civil chief of the Sauk Nation in the early 1800s.

In Letters and Notes, George Catlin described Pashepaho as "grave and deliberate." He was one of five Sauk delegates who signed the 1804 treaty at St. Louis, which gave away most of the tribal lands, including Saukenuk.

He showed up to speak for his people while land disappeared and choices narrowed, knowing restraint was the only tool he had left—and using it, anyway.

He sided with Black Hawk’s British Band during the War of 1812, then sided with Keokuk’s peace faction during the Black Hawk War in 1832.