Inside A Daring Iowa Bank Robbery That Almost Worked

Poke Wells

Poke Wells (Charles Knox Polk Wells) was one of those guys you didn’t want to mess around with. A Jesse Jams wannabe. Some say he was a friend of the James boys. Maybe even rode with them. But there’s no proof of that. What’s certain is that Poke robbed a few trains. Tried his luck at banks, and that’s where things went sideways.

He rode into Riverton, Iowa, on July 11, 1881. Before the day was over, his name was splashed across front pages all over the Midwest.

 

Poke’s autobiography said his partner was a man named Wilson. That might be, but early reports pointed to Bill Norris. That’s how outlaw stories go. People toss out names and wait to see what sticks. In the end, his partner’s name doesn’t change the story, other than he blamed the entire affair on him. “Wilson,” he said, “now insisted on being initiated as a bank or train robber.”

 

Poke and his partner didn’t rush in blind. They spent a day or two looking over the country around Riverton. They inspected horses owned by Mr. Parsley and Mr. Burks, thought better of buying them, then stole a pair from Mr. Anderson instead.

Coca-Cola Baseball Advertisement Davenport 1920

Coca-Cola took Davenport to the ballgame in 1920 with this advertisement. It was printed in The Daily Times on July 29, 1920.

 

Blue Label Beer Advertisement Sioux Falls Brewing and Malting Co.

 

The Sioux City Journal. June 9, 1907.

Blue Label wasn't brewed locally, but it was widely available in Western Iowa in the early 1900's. The Native American warrior gives it a unique look. As the add says, "Order a trial case," from the Sioux Falls Brewing and Malting Co., Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

Iowa's Own, The Orton Brothers' Circus

 

Orton Brothers' circus tent, circa 1900

If you lived in Iowa in the late 1800s and heard a brass band coming down the street, you  grabbed your hat and headed for town.

The circus was here.

Kids came running. Shopkeepers drifted outside. Farmers tied off teams and squinted into the dust. Dogs barked, and horses rolled their eyes.

Then the parade came around the corner.

Painted wagons. Glittering harnesses. Clowns. Riders perched high on horses. Cages rumbling along. Brass horns blaring like they were trying to wake the dead.

And if the wagons said Orton Brothers Circus, people knew they were seeing one of the biggest homegrown shows Iowa ever produced.

Budweiser Beer Advertisement Jos. E. Rosenfeld Council Bluffs

 

The Evening Nonpareil.April 29, 1913.

I really like this early Budweiser advertisement. It shows the Anheuser-Busch Plant in St. Louis, and references the local distributor - Jos. E. Rosenfeld in Council Bluffs, Iowa.

Black Hawk Beer As The Medicine of Choice?

The Daily Times. April 15, 1914.

If you stood on Davenport’s west side a hundred years ago and caught a whiff of warm grain, smoke, and something vaguely cheerful in the air, congratulations—you were downwind of a brewery.

One of the big names was Black Hawk.

Black Hawk Brewery opened sometime around 1865, when America was finishing a civil war and apparently decided the next order of business was beer. Julius Lehrkind, a German-born brewer, was an early owner. That made sense. Germans all over the Midwest were quietly improving local life one lager at a time.

Davenport was the perfect town for brewing. It had river traffic, railroads, factories, and a healthy population of people who’d worked all day and didn’t need to be talked into a drink.

Like many old businesses, Black Hawk never sat still. Names changed. Ownership changed. Buildings were added whenever money appeared.

The Independent Brewing and Malting Co. plant near 1801 West 3rd Street was a serious operation. It had cellars, bottling works, rail connections, wagons moving in and out, and all the machinery necessary to dominate the local market.

They kept selling Black Hawk beer. Customers already liked the label; only a fool would toss it aside.

Who Remembers Duane Ellet And Floppy WHO TV Des Moines

 

If you grew up in Iowa anytime between the late 1950s and the late 1980s, there’s a good chance you knew exactly what time The Floppy Show came on.

From 1957 to 1987, Duane Ellett and Floppy were a huge part of daily life on WHO-TV in Des Moines. For a lot of Iowa kids, Duane and Floppy were as familiar as the kitchen table, the school bus, and snow boots lined up by the back door.

This was back when television wasn’t endless. There were only a few channels. If you missed something, you missed it forever. No rewinding. No watching whenever the spirit moved you. If Floppy was on at a certain time, you got there.

Usually with cereal, in pajamas, and yelling for somebody to stop touching the rabbit ears because the picture was just right.

Duane Ellett had a face people trusted right away. Calm, friendly, never trying too hard. He wasn’t loud or  fake cheerful. He seemed like a decent fellow who had somehow wandered onto television and stayed.