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Stratford centennial

Hear ye! hear ye!,   pp. 163-164

I remember...,   pp. 164-165

Page 164

Affidavit (Complaint) for Criminal Warrant
State of Wisconsin
Marathon County
The State of Wisconsin against John Brill
John G. Wesley, being duly sworn, says that on the 26th
day of May, in the year 1914, the Town of McMillan, in said
county, John Brill did unlawfully and willfully while driving
two horses attached to a lumber wagon, on the highway
known as the Rozellville road, the said John Brill was over-
taken by one John G. Wesley, who was driving an automobile
on the said highway, and the said John Brill, did neglect and
refuse to turn his team from the center of the road so that the
automobile could pass, although there was ample room for the
said John Brill to turn out and permit the automobile to pass;
thereby forcing the said John G. Wesley to drive his automo-
bile into the ditch, in order to pass the team and wagon driven
by the said John Brill.
I Remember...
Sargent Saloon
From Saw-Dust by Len Sargent
Len Sargent's father, Len Sargent, Sr., had a hotel and
saloon at Stratford during the late 1800's. He tells the follow-
ing story about an incident that occurred.
"Dad had to go to Marshfield on business, an all day trip
with a good team of horses. He left Frank Pagel, a young man,
in charge of the saloon. Frank did not know that it was illegal
to sell liquor to Indians. The log drive had just finished and
the Indians came to town to shop. They went in our saloon and
Frank did a landlord business. When the six o'clock whistle
blew and our regular customers came in from work in the mill,
they took one look and kept right on going to the next place.
The place was full of Indians, shooting pool, throwing dice,
dancing and raising hell.
"'When Dad came in, he got rid of them in short order.
Several Indian ponies, loaded down with provisions, were tied
out in front of the place. Dad simply untied the ponies and
chased them down the street. He then opened the door and
hollered that the ponies had gotten away. The ponies were
running down the street, with canned goods, etc. flying
everywhere, and the Indians after them. Dad locked the doors
and put out the lights, and none too soon, because soon the
boys were back trying to get in.
Logging Accident
Tony Schuster, who worked in both the Stratford and later
the Laona store, had his own favorite story concerning coffins.
Once a lumberjack was killed while logging near Stratford
one Saturday. The "walking boss" offered to take the corpse
back to town in his sleigh. The weather was forty below zero
and enroute the body froze into a sitting position. Upon arrival
in Stratford the "walking boss' could not find the doctor.
Anxious to be rid of his burden, he secretly climbed the store's
back stairs and placed the body in its upright sitting position
into a store loft coffin. The unsuspecting watchman on his
later rounds let out a frightened yell which stirred the village.
(From A Century with Connor Timber)
For The Fun of It
By Lil Kroeplin
I'm sure few people remember the fourth of July picnic
celebrations put on by the Herman Klemme family way back
in the late 1800's and early 1900's. The few who do will enjoy
them all over again when they read this.
I was born in 1904, so I was a bit young to remember
much of them. I have heard the family telling about the fun
times they were, even though it took days to prepare for them.
There were the busy days before the celebration when
cakes had to be baked and frosted, sandwiches to be prepared
for, ice cream to be cooked with real cream and all the other
goodies needed for it before freezing. Believe me, the
freezing part was the hard part because they were five gallon
freezers and were really hard to turn. I'm sure it took more
than one man to do thejob. Then of course, the picnic grounds
had to be prepared for use.
The big day started out with a big bang made with
dynamite set off by my father to awaken the villagers as well
as the family to prepare for the day. The food as well as other
things had to be taken to the picnic area which took place on
the 80 acre farm my father had at the north east end of the
village now owned by Paul Oertel. It was a large area with a
pavilion for dancing, a beer stand and sports area.

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