Morrill Marston Commandant of Fort Armstrong 1819-1821

Fort Armstrong at Rock Island

Morrill Marston served as commandant at Fort Armstrong from August 1819 to June 1821. After leaving Fort Armstrong, Marston became the commandant of Fort Edwards. His primary duty was to stop boats going up the river and search them for whiskey to ensure it did not get to the Indians.

After leaving the army when Fort Edwards was abandoned in 1824, he began farming near the fort. Unfortunately, Marston drowned in a drunken fit in 1831.

Fortunately for us, he penned a series of letters on the Sac and Fox customs to Reverend Jedidiah Morse in 1820. In addition, Marston said he talked with four of the principal chiefs of the two nations.

They called the land around Fort Armstrong Sen-i-se-po Ke-be-sau-lee or Rock River Peninsula. Government agents had been trying to get the tribes to relocate for some time but had no luck. A Fox chief told him they would not leave because their chiefs and friends were buried there.

Denkman Lumber Yards Fire Davenport 1901

 

(Davenport Democrat. August 7, 1901)

The largest fire in Davenport’s history swept through the city’s riverfront district on July 26, 1901. Twenty acres of homes and businesses were swept away in the conflagration.

The Weyerhaeuser and Denkmann Lumber Yards were burned to the ground. Two hundred people lost their homes, and nearly one hundred eighty men at the lumber yard lost their jobs. 

“A strong wind fanned the flames, reported The Moline Dispatch. “They shot hundreds of feet into the air. Then, they jumped across streets and alleys and rushed forward with the force of a monster blast furnace.”

Everything from the foot of Federal Street to Oneida Street lay in ruins. The flames were so hot that the rails melted, and the ends flung themselves in the air like “snakeheads.” They stood up over a foot in some places. All that remained of the wooden sidewalks were ashes.

The telephone lines were out for nearly a week as the company raced to replace the burned poles and restring its wires. The trolley line replaced two blocks of tracks, most of the poles and wires that powered their lines, and railroad traffic was disrupted for weeks.

The bricks on East River Street were gone from their places, “as though they had popped out of their beds like so much corn.” Many more bricks were shattered, most likely from the cold water thrown on them. 

Fat Men's Baseball Club Waterloo Iowa 1909

 

Frank C. Kee of Waterloo, Iowa, traveled the United States in 1909 and 1910, putting together the fat men’s baseball club. When he finished, the team had a combined weight of 4,487 pounds (about twice the weight of a Clydesdale horse). 

Although the team members were big, the Des Moines Register told its readers, there was nothing funny about the way they played baseball. “Their lining up at the lunch counter when out on the road,” said the paper, “is the immediate signal for the proprietor to send out for additional supplies.” 

 “Baby” Bliss, the first baseman, weighed in at 650 pounds and was thought to be the heaviest man in the world. E. Holm, the pitcher, weighed 350 pounds. J. A. Brownwell, the second baseman, weighed 400 pounds; outfielder Harry Vorwold weighed 325 pounds; shortstop Ed J. Sheean weighed 390 pounds, and W. B. Hinds, the third baseman, tipped the scale at 400 pounds. And strange as it may seem, Oliver Kimball, the umpire, was a teensy guy who stood 4 feet tall and weighed 138 pounds. 

Nile Kinnick The Iowa Football Star Who Died Too Young

 

Iowa Hawkeyes fans were stunned in June 1943 when they learned that former halfback Nile Kinnick had died in action.

Kinnick’s parents told reporters they hadn’t heard from him since May 22. They thought he was assigned to an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Atlantic, but weren’t sure where. The Navy subsequently reported Kinnick’s Grumman F4F Wildcat suffered a catastrophic oil leak shortly after takeoff from the USS Lexington. He followed protocol and ditched his aircraft in the water about four miles from the carrier. Unfortunately, his body was never found.

When Kinnick enlisted in the Naval Air Corps in September 1941, he told reporters, “I would be lacking in appreciation for all America has done for me did I not offer what little I had to her.

“And I’m going in with both fists swinging.”

Antoine Le Claire The Fur Trader Who Became The Richest Man In Iowa

 

Antoine Le Claire started his life as an Indian trader and interpreter. After the Black Hawk War, Le Claire launched his second career as a town builder.

At first, he worked as a jack of all trades. Le Claire became the first justice of the peace in Iowa in 1833. The following year, he established a ferry service between Stephenson (present-day Rock Island) and Davenport. On April 19, 1836, Le Claire became the first postmaster of Davenport. Early accounts say he carried the mail in his coat pockets.

After the City of Davenport was laid out in 1836, a steamboat loaded with investors arrived at Davenport in time for the sale, but fewer lots were sold than expected. At best, fifty or sixty lots sold, and then, for lower prices than expected. The new city was off to a slow start and would continue at that pace for nearly a decade.

From all accounts, Le Claire cultivated his town much as a farmer would his fields, watering it and adding a touch of fertilizer when necessary. Everything written about Antoine Le Claire referred to his generous nature. “Mr. Le Claire is a wealthy man,” reported the Rock Island Weekly Argus, “and he knows what use to make of his wealth. Mr. Le Claire has always been the first on the list in every enterprise intended to benefit the town and state in which he lives.”

When the town was laid out, Le Claire set aside Lafayette Square for a courthouse. Several other lots were provided for parks and playgrounds. He donated land or money to build many churches in Davenport and gave an entire block on Main and West Fourth Streets for St. Anthony’s, the first church in Davenport.

Before He Became President Ronald Reagan Was A DJ At WOC In Davenport

Before the speeches, before Hollywood, before anyone ever called him “Mr. President,” Ronald Reagan was just a young guy trying to get a job during the Great Depression.

He didn’t have a master plan. No five-year vision. No idea he’d end up in the White House someday. He just had a friendly voice, a little confidence, and the willingness to walk into a radio station and say, “I think I can do this.”

Somehow, that worked.

He landed in Davenport at WOC radio, and like most first jobs, it wasn’t glamorous. Early radio wasn’t slick or polished. It was closer to organized chaos. Equipment was finicky. Scripts were loose. And if something went wrong, you were already on the air when you found out.

WOC had a reputation, though. The Palmer family ran it, and they enjoyed pushing things forward—new tech, new programming, and fresh voices. That also meant expectations were higher than you’d expect for a Midwestern station in the 1930s.

So, if you bombed, people noticed.

Fatal Joyride in Sioux City 1930

 

Adelaide Anderson was dropped off at home shortly before the shooting. Leonard Bornholtz, 17, was shot and killed by the police while trying to stop the car.

A joyride in Sioux City ended with a dead teenager and a handful of shaken kids sitting in a police station.

 

Detectives Lou Miller and Roy Gillis knew the car was stolen when they spotted it. They tried to stop it, but the driver, Harry Dial, 22, kept going.

 

The car cut into an alley. Miller fired two shots into the air. Warnings.

 

The car didn’t stop.

 

He fired again.