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Aberdeen’s Graveyard Girl

Tasha Tietz, like all nurses, has a caring soul. She believes people should be remembered even after they’re gone.

Walk through a cemetery with Tasha Westby Tietz and you soon learn that tombstones represent life.

The same happens when you visit Tietz’s Facebook page. Watch her YouTube channel. Catch one of her talks or peruse her research on websites like Find a Grave and Ancestry.com. Tietz considers herself”a loner,” but the vivacious Aberdeen nurse is quickly becoming recognized as an authority on cemeteries. She even has an online persona,”Graveyard Girl,” though she shares the moniker with a rap musician and a fashion and beauty YouTuber — interesting company for the introverted daughter of an Aberdeen bricklayer and a beautician.

“I couldn’t even speak at my own wedding,” she laughs,”but I just spoke at the genealogy society and at the Aberdeen library. I can’t believe all that is happening.”

Tietz’s interest in the deceased began when she was working as a nurse’s aide at Mother Joseph Manor, an Aberdeen nursing home. She soon grew to love the Presentation sisters, and she worried that they might be forgotten when they die because they don’t have children and spouses. Even to this day, one of her favorite cemetery walks is a section of Sacred Heart Cemetery in Aberdeen devoted to deceased Presentations.

But it wasn’t long before she took an interest in more grave sites: those of other patients at the nursing home, her own ancestors and eventually perfect strangers.

“There is a quote that says a person is truly forgotten when their name is spoken for the last time,” she says.”That makes me believe that every person should be remembered and one way to do that is to be sure they have a tombstone.”

And in today’s online world, every tombstone should be searchable. Seven years ago, she began to enter tombstone photos on Find a Grave; today she is among its busiest contributors. She has posted more than 2,400 memorials and obituaries and 5,000 photos.

Aberdeen’s four cemeteries are her favorite places. She has documented many of their markers on Find a Grave.

Her paternal ancestors are buried at Claire City and Sisseton, so she has also visited them for years.”I try to take a bouquet to all my direct grandparents on Memorial Day,” she says.”I like to go to Claire City in September and visit the graves at Sica Hollow.”

In 2021, she found three tombstones of the Roy family, some of the first white settlers, among the autumn foliage of Sica Hollow. Most of her explorations have been in northeast South Dakota, but she has also roamed cemeteries as far away as Washington, D.C., Canada, Arizona and Texas.

She includes”graving trips” on family vacations when her husband, John, and their three daughters — Chloe, Claire and Charlotte — are willing.”The girls are not super-impressed yet,” she says.”John is also not a fan, but he’ll take me. We went to the Black Hills last summer and we explored Mountain View Cemetery at Keystone. I picked it because some of the Mount Rushmore carvers are buried there, and the actor Bobby Buntrock died and was buried there. There is also a Native leader, a medicine man, an artist and some kind of a wild Old West guy. It’s the only cemetery with a view of Mount Rushmore.”

She recently visited the De Smet cemetery where Charles and Caroline Ingalls are buried, along with their daughters Mary, Grace and Carrie.

Her social media posts also include information she gathers from other sources, including a recent bit about the Jewish custom of placing stones rather than flowers on tombstones. She also spotlighted a report of an Iowa cemetery that features three pyramids, built by the local newspaper editor who planned to be buried in one of them.

Graveyard Girl’s Facebook page now has more than 6,000 followers. Her sites have grown so much that they earn her small amounts of money, some of which she has used to help pay for gravestones on unmarked graves. If the revenues continue to grow, she plans to also invest in camera equipment and research materials for the ever-growing avocation.

She finds genealogy research the most rewarding aspect of being Graveyard Girl. People from across the nation have sent her notes of appreciation for her assistance in finding the graves of their ancestors.

Still, her favorite part of being Graveyard Girl is the time spent in cemeteries.”I like to be out in nature, and I am pretty much a loner. I think I’m also an old soul. I’m happiest when I’m with my family, outdoors in a beautiful cemetery.”

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the March/April 2025 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

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Painting the Trophies

The Hatterscheidt trophy room has evolved at the Dacotah Prairie Museum, says curator Marianne Marttila-Klipfel (left). With her are the artists who painted the scenes: Lora Schaunaman (center) and Debra Many Carson.

“This traveling circus of ours lives off the country,” wrote Aberdeen safari hunter Fred Hatterscheidt.”We shoot to eat. We hunt for pleasure. We kill for trophies.”

Few South Dakotans ever hunted the world with the passion of Hatterscheidt, or left the public his guns, journals and taxidermy mounts. However, the staff and board of Dacotah Prairie Museum in Aberdeen soon grew uncomfortable with the collection that they inherited when the hunter bequeathed it to them along with a three-story building that became the museum in 1970.

“The mounts had to be displayed,” says Lora Schaunaman, a retired curator of exhibits. That was part of the agreement Hatterscheidt made with the board even though the lions, tigers and other exotic species hardly fit the museum’s mission of exploring northern South Dakota history.

Perceptions of safaris have also changed since Hatterscheidt died in 1973. When he was circling the globe in the 1950s and 1960s, trophy hunting was accepted as the sport of wealthy adventurers. Ernest Hemingway, one of the most famous American novelists of the 20th century, wrote extensively about his African excursions.

Other celebrities also popularized safari hunts. Teddy Roosevelt, the 26th president who is remembered as a conservationist, embarked on an African safari soon after leaving the White House in 1910. He later bragged that he’d killed 296 animals, including nine lions and 15 zebras. John Wayne roped a 450-pound wildebeest while filming Hatari, a 1962 movie about hunters who captured wild animals for zoos.

Even as those famous hunts were occurring, some game species were nearing extinction. Also, the concept of safari hunting became entangled with the colonialism that exploited native peoples in African countries. The stereotype of the rich American or European flying to an impoverished Third World village to kill for sport was reenforced when a Minnesota dentist shot a beloved lion named Cecil that lived in a national park in Zimbabwe.

However, the staff of the Aberdeen museum had recognized the dilemma long before Cecil’s death in 2015. A 1990 museum report recommended that Hatterscheidt’s gun collection be removed because it gave the appearance of”promotion of big game hunting.” The report, titled”A Man of His Times,” noted that the museum benefactor lived and hunted at a time when sensibilities were quite different.

Even for his own time, Fred Hatterscheidt was unique. He was born in Cologne, Germany in 1893 and came to America as a child with his parents, who were looking for an opportunity to farm. They arrived in Aberdeen when he was 10.

Hatterscheidt was with Frank Scepaniak in Siberia when Scepaniak killed the polar bear, which was mounted in full.

He studied at the Aberdeen Business College and Northern Normal (today’s Northern State University). He joined the South Dakota National Guard in 1914, the same year he went to work for a local real estate firm.

Hatterscheidt married Ruth Kimble in 1922. They did not have children, but they embraced the greater Aberdeen community. Today, their Hatterscheidt Foundation continues to provide scholarships to students in the region. Hatterscheidt immersed himself in business and 30 years later the son of immigrants had the wherewithal to travel the world. Ruth accompanied him on a few of his trips. She collected fans. Her husband collected animal trophies.

Hatterscheidt kept detailed journals as he traveled. Like the taxidermy mounts, his thoughts and writings deserve to be judged in the context of the era. He wrote honestly and bluntly, at times questioning the customs of other cultures and in other instances, seeking understanding.

In September of 1952 he was hunting giraffe in the Tana Forest of Kenya.”We followed the wounded animal for miles and miles over mountain and desert,” he wrote.”We had to quit on account of the darkness and we were still ten or twelve miles from Camp.”

He continued on September 19:”Six boys tracking the animal over mountains and desert, and finally we had to give up spoor. We located four Giraffe feeding. We circled and came in against the wind. Smith designated the kill, and Bob, our gun boys and I, dropped out of the hunting truck which went on the prescribed 200 yards. I got in the first shot with the .416. Bob used his 30.06 immediately after. The heavy impact of the .416 knocked the Giraffe clean off his feet. He jumped up and ran after the herd. Bob shot five times and registered three hits, but the bullets were flattened out under the skin which is nearly one-half inch thick. I got in another shot with the .416 and this slowed up the Giraffe to where Captain Smith headed him off near the road. The animal was about 16 or 18 feet tall and weighed nearly two tons. It was all our truck could do to pull and turn him over.”

On Sept. 29, 1952, he related an elephant kill.”Trailed Elephant for an hour or two (time means nothing in the African jungle). Elephant Camp on the Tana River. This was the highlight of our trip. Killed a six ton or more (7 tons) Elephant over 100 years old and carried 160 pounds of ivory (figuring both tusks). I fired three shots from the .416; the first one to the heart. He ran less than 20 yards and fell dead. Captain Smith stood silent in reverence to the dying giant of the Tana Forest. Tears ran from the Elephant’s eyes and perspiration formed in pools on his head.”

He also observed foreign commerce, noting in England on August 11, 1952,”There are men in charge of business who know nothing about it. They don’t even know what assets they have.”

A few days later he penned,”Sixty-eight colored natives were arrested in Johannesburg today.” It is one of several brief references to native Africans’ rebellions against apartheid and other injustices.

On the 1952 trip, he saw Hollywood movie star Spencer Tracy in a hotel lobby.”He is shorter than I, and his nose and cheeks are pot-marked,” wrote Hatterscheidt.”He is very homely and looked more like a tramp.”

In a 1959 trip to India, he scolded the leaders.”These ‘holier than thou’ politicians are no different than the Caesars of Rome as far as the masses are concerned. They wouldn’t let Bob and I walk on a street leading to the Palace of the President, nor take any pictures of Nehru’s palace. The people of India have never seen pictures of these in any newspapers. Nehru is always shown with (Hindu fashion) folded hands in greeting. Gandhi set an example of poverty but like our priests and ministers, those in power don’t follow Christ or Gandhi.”

He was more impressed with the rural people.”Bob and I have really experienced the life of an Indian Maharaja who used to have the exclusive right to kill a tiger. We have been waited on. We have been blessed and anointed with oil and sprinkled with rice, and a mark was put on my forehead. All good Hindus, especially the women, carry a red or black spot on their forehead. We were honored time and time again for being killers of the tiger, also their god. I can’t understand any of it.”

Aberdeen hunter Fred Hatterscheidt made the cover of a Minneapolis magazine in 1961.

Hatterscheidt welcomed publicity. In 1960, he offered his diaries to Farm Journal but the editor, Carroll Streeter, replied,”we are so terrifically crowded for space right now that I think it quite unlikely that we could.”

Regional newspapers were more receptive. In the museum files are several stories, including a 1959 account in the Aberdeen American News of a tiger hunt.”The Jeep lurched to a stop and as Hatterscheidt stepped down, the tiger was charging down on them,” wrote Sally Ross.”Hatterscheidt fired, but the tiger kept coming. Hatterscheidt fired again and again until the tiger reared on its hind feet and in one last roar, fell over backwards 20 feet away from the hunter.”

He told the Watertown Public Opinion that the 3,000-pound gaur he shot”represents a possible record kill.” He said it measured 6 feet, 1 inch at the shoulders ó 2 inches higher than the previously recognized record.

On March 5, 1961, the Aberdeen hunter was featured on the cover of the Minneapolis Sunday Tribune Magazine with a trophy Bengal tiger shot in India. He said the tiger was,”bagged by means of a beat, where natives form a huge circle and drive the animals forward,” while he waited in a blind, 16 feet above the ground.

His trophy kills were preserved by some of America’s best taxidermists in Chicago, Houston and Seattle. Once mounted, they were shipped to W.H. Over Museum in Vermillion, the oldest museum in South Dakota. Someone there had apparently assisted Hatterscheidt in gaining permission for some of the hunts.

However, in 1970 two of Hatterscheidt’s friends stopped at the Vermillion museum to see the trophies and were chagrined to discover that the heads were in storage and not available to the public. At that very time, historians in Aberdeen were looking for a permanent home for the Dacotah Prairie Museum.

Hatterscheidt and two partners, Herman Pickus and P.A. Bradbury, agreed to donate the historic, three-story Western Union Building on Main Street in 1970. However, the offer included a stipulation that the museum shall exhibit the wildlife collection ó including the aforementioned gaur and elephant.

Hatterscheidt died three years later, long before museumgoers began to balk at the mounted heads. However, by the 1990s, sensibilities were changing and the mounts, some now 40 years old, were aging. To make matters worse, the trophies were only separated from visitors by a rope, so some people were handling the mounts; bratty children were even pulling the whiskers from a leopard.

Schaunaman, an artist and art teacher, was then a curator.”The original exhibit was a trophy room with just the heads hanging on the walls,” she says.”It told the safari story of one Aberdeen businessman, but the reaction wasn’t always great. I didn’t even like to go in the room. People would bring their little kids and they would be afraid. Sometimes they would cry and scream. Our director back then was Sue Gates. She knew I didn’t like the room, yet we all knew the trophies had to be displayed. That’s when we came up with an idea.”

Sherri Rawstern, the museum’s longtime curator of education, urged her fellow staffers to consider two goals: show the animals in their native habitat, and do it in a manner that was more lifelike. That was the genesis of a major undertaking.

Schaunaman immediately reached out to Debra Many Carson, an Aberdeen wildlife artist.”I called her and said, ‘Have you ever painted an animal life-size?'”

Buster the Bison has long been the mascot of the Dacotah Prairie Museum, but he became even more popular when artist Debra Many Carson painted a body to match his fuzzy head.

The two women began by researching habitats and drawing sketches, which were later enlarged to fit the walls. They especially worked on the proportion of the actual heads to the painted bodies. Along with the art scenes, they incorporated real tufts of grass, soils, branches and a massive tree trunk.

Schaunaman tried to contact the original taxidermists, hoping to learn how to clean the mounts. Chris Klineburger of Seattle was deceased, but she was able to reach his son, Kent, who had continued in his father’s footsteps.”I only expected to get some advice, but when he heard what we were doing he insisted on coming to help,” she says.”He was on his honeymoon, actually. He came with his new bride, and she helped as well. They were here for about a week.”

During the 18-month transformation of the trophy room, museum staff also embarked on a major restoration of the handsome 1888 building that Hatterscheidt and his partners had given to them. Replacing the huge windows was an important part of the renovation.

“As they were taking out the big windows on street level, Sue Gates told us, ‘here’s your chance!'” Schaunaman remembers.”The window holes made it possible for us to get the big mounts outdoors for cleaning. Somewhere there’s a picture of me, standing on a step ladder and vacuuming a polar bear on Aberdeen’s Main Street.”

Other repairs were more subtle. Many Carson, the wildlife artist, had pet cats.”When I realized the leopard’s whiskers were missing, I watched for my cats to shed their whiskers and I saved them and glued them on the leopard,” she says.

A golden eagle, mounted on a rock, was especially difficult.”We had a terrible time getting him off the rock without breaking his talons,” says Many Carson.

The elephant head was also challenging.”They didn’t have the foam plastic models in those days, so it is framed with 2-by-4s and other heavy wood,” Schaunaman says.”The tusks are fiberglass, but they are heavy as well. We had to consult a structural engineer to see if the wall would hold it. We drilled through three layers of brick to the outside wall and bolted the mount to a steel plate.”

Using large chunks of material from Benchmark Foam in Watertown, they also sculpted two front legs for the gigantic elephant.

Though the murals span the continents of Earth, they blend together as if you were circling the globe on a jet plane.”It begins with sunrise of the Arctic, and then morning over the Rockies, noonday on the Great Plains, afternoon in Africa, a sunset in India and nighttime in the Himalayas,” says Schaunaman.

Many Carson and Schaunaman have slightly different styles, but their work blended perfectly. A casual observer might think it was all accomplished by a single artist.

Reaction from the public was immediately positive.”It changed by leaps and bounds,” Schaunaman says. And that has continued, even though public perceptions of big-game hunting are still evolving.

Marianne Marttila-Klipfel, who now serves as curator of exhibits at Dacotah Prairie Museum, says the safari murals and mounts have stood the test of time.”Now, with improvements made by Lora and Debra, the room tells a story in an educational context. The animals were placed back into their natural habitats and through artistic magic, life was brought to the exhibit. The rest of us get to benefit from their vision and talent.”†

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the July/August 2023 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

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Forgotten Giant

Mike McHugh hoped Northern State University could preserve Lincoln Hall, named for Isaac Lincoln, his step-grandfather and a founder of the university. Sadly, the building was demolished in June 2024.

Editor’s Note: Demolition crews in Aberdeen tore down Lincoln Hall on the Northern State University campus in June. This story, revised from the November/December 2022 issue of South Dakota Magazine, tells the story of its namesake, Isaac Lincoln. To order or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

Mike McHugh sadly tore down the grain elevator on his Brown County farm a year ago. Built by his step-grandfather, the elevator was a local landmark for more than a century. As a teenager in the 1960s, McHugh unloaded grain there. A horse-and-buggy-days structure, even 60 years ago it had been too small for the trucks, but McHugh kept it long after it was useful.

He had that same sad feeling a few months earlier when he learned the fate of Lincoln Hall at Northern State University, 12 miles away in Aberdeen. NSU planned to demolish and replace the 1918 building after, like McHugh’s elevator, it had outlived its usefulness. Over the years, Aberdonians and Northern alums came to assume Lincoln Hall — originally built as a women’s dormitory — had been named in tribute to our 16th president, Abraham Lincoln. But it was not, and that was the source of McHugh’s sorrow. Lincoln Hall honors Isaac Lincoln, a forgotten giant in Aberdeen and Northern State history — and McHugh’s step-grandfather, the same man who built the family grain elevator.

*****

Isaac Lincoln was born to a pedigreed New England family in 1863. His mother’s brothers served in Congress and in President Lincoln’s cabinet. Isaac Lincoln himself may have been distantly related to the president on his father’s side, but his destiny lay far from Washington. He developed wanderlust as a young man, moving first to Indiana, then Dakota Territory to work on farms.

Isaac Lincoln.

He arrived in Aberdeen in 1886 and made his mark in real estate and banking, eventually serving as an officer or director for several banks in Aberdeen, northeastern South Dakota and Minneapolis. In 1903, he bought 1,760 acres on the Elm River near Aberdeen and became a model farmer, known for sharing his knowledge with neighbors and students. He proudly loaded his livestock on a boxcar in nearby Ordway and showed them as far away as Chicago. The animals, especially his prized Galloway cattle, frequently won top honors.”He would paint the inside of his barn bright white to show off the cattle’s rich black coat,” McHugh says.

After a 1913 fire, he built a”palatial farm residence and a monster grain elevator,” according to one local newspaper report. Later that year, another fire destroyed a barn, and Lincoln built”one of the finest barns in the county.” The barn and house (a fire survivor) still stand. The”monster” elevator was the structure that McHugh sadly demolished in 2021.

The farm came to be known as Lincoln Ranch, the name McHugh still uses a century after Lincoln died. It became McHugh’s thanks to Lincoln’s 1906 marriage at age 43 to Margaret Ringrose McHugh, the 48-year-old proprietor of the Sherman Department Store. Arriving in Aberdeen in 1883, she married P.J. McHugh and they moved to Minnesota. After McHugh’s 1889 death, she returned to Aberdeen in 1893 with sons Phil and Frank, who became Mike’s father.

*****

Along with state senator James Lawson and Father Robert Haire, Lincoln is credited as a founder of Northern State University. On the committee to help select its location, Lincoln gave a tour of options to Gov. Andrew Lee, who chose the south end of town for the new Northern Normal and Industrial School.

In 1901, the Board of Regents appointed Lincoln its local secretary,”an entirely honorary position” with”no pay,” a paper reported. Doing much more than verify bills, Lincoln helped oversee the institution’s development, including the construction of its first building — even through disaster.

In the summer of 1917, Isaac Lincoln used a horse-drawn plow to break ground for the building that was to bear his name.

In late December 1901, young Phil McHugh, Lincoln’s future stepson, discovered the blaze on his way to skate on Moccasin Creek. When the fire department arrived, however, the building was beyond saving. As one man walked up Jay Street to view the flames, he found Lincoln.

“Well, Lincoln,” he said,”I suppose this ends our Normal School idea.”

“Hell, no,” Lincoln replied.”We have just commenced to fight.”

The building was rebuilt, and NNIS opened in September 1902.

Lincoln oversaw construction of a new women’s dormitory in 1904, a workshop to implement the”industrial” aspect of the new college’s name, and created an oratory contest that outlived him.

Perhaps inspired by his uncles’ public service, Lincoln sought and won election to the state senate in 1906. During his first term, he spearheaded a $60,000 bill for a new building at Northern. At its dedication, the senate appropriations chair credited Lincoln with securing a larger appropriation for Northern than the other state colleges received.”If the other schools had had a Mr. Lincoln in the senate they might have obtained more money,” the senator noted. After a reelection defeat in 1908, Lincoln returned to the senate in 1914 and served until his death in 1921.

In a posthumous postscript to Lincoln’s NSU and public service careers, his stepson, Democratic Sen. Frank McHugh, introduced the 1939 bill that changed NNIS’ name to Northern State Teachers College, a longtime Northern goal. About seven decades later, Mike McHugh, also a Democrat, ran unsuccessfully for the state legislature. Both men were also involved in many community service and nonprofit activities, inspired, McHugh believes, by Lincoln’s public-spiritedness.

*****

Lincoln resigned as Northern’s secretary in 1909. In 1917, the legislature approved construction of a women’s dorm, and the Regents named it after Lincoln to honor his long dedication to the school. A local paper was effusive:”When finished the new hall will probably be the finest, largest and most thoroly [sic] equipped dormitory in the two Dakotas.” It went on to make the same case that McHugh would champion a century later:”Mr. Lincoln has been largely instrumental in making the school what it is today, and it owes its success in a great measure to him.”

To kick off construction, the honoree and part-time farmer drove two horses pulling a plow to break ground at the site in the summer of 1917. Lincoln Hall opened in October 1918 during a World War and a worldwide pandemic. Since then, the versatile building has been enlarged and has housed students as well as an art gallery, the business school and international programs.

Just three years later, at age 58, Lincoln died of stomach cancer. Obituaries struggled to describe the man’s breadth.”It is a question whether Senator Lincoln was better known as a financier or as a farmer,” one tribute read.”His life has left its imprint on South Dakota development in both lines of activity.” Many businesses closed on the day of his funeral, and 1,000 people passed through his Aberdeen home to pay respects.

*****

When Neal Schnoor became NSU president in July 2021, he inherited the Lincoln Hall project. The original plan was to put the business school, the SDSU accelerated nursing program, an entrepreneurship center and the admissions office in a renovated Lincoln Hall. However, Schnoor said,”We encountered many obstacles in accessibility, technology — it still has the original 1917 wiring — and design. Contractors told us that renovating the building would double the $29.5 million project cost,” and it would still be a rehabbed dormitory, not a modern instructional and community engagement space. Plans shifted, and in one of those coincidences of history the demolition of Lincoln Hall was announced in the centenary year of its namesake’s death.

Lincoln Hall, photographed in 2022, was originally built as a women’s dormitory but also housed an art gallery, the business school and international programs.

Having faced similar issues with several buildings on Lincoln Ranch — including the”monster” elevator — McHugh understood the quandary, but he went to bat for his step-grandfather.”Had there not been an Isaac Lincoln, I don’t know what Northern would be today,” he says.”I’m not diminishing other contributions, but Lincoln had a very important impact on the early formative years of the institution.” Perhaps following his step-grandfather’s determination, he had just commenced to fight.

Hoping to preserve the name on the new building, McHugh spoke at events in Aberdeen and visited with legislators, Regents, NSU staff and Schnoor himself.”Mike is highlighting the achievements of a remarkable man and doing that highlights the supportive community that got Northern built,” Schnoor says.

While McHugh’s conversations were happening, NSU supporters successfully lobbied legislators to support a $29.5 million appropriation of American Rescue Plan Act funds for the project. Senate Bill 44, the title of which read in part”construction of the new Lincoln Hall,” passed both houses and was signed by the governor in March 2022.

Despite the bill’s title, Schnoor told McHugh that typically a building’s name continues only for its useful life. He added, however,”I have a plan for naming our most prominent enduring campus feature for Isaac Lincoln in perpetuity. I’m not saying that to appease anyone. History matters to us.”

Buildings might outlast their usefulness, but people don’t, even a century or more after they’re gone. McHugh’s campaign to preserve Isaac Lincoln’s name has brought his contributions back to light, and he has found allies in Schnoor, the NSU community and Aberdeen. Lincoln fought tirelessly for his town and school, and he’d be proud to know his grandson is fighting for him.

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Birder to Birdwatcher

Is George Prisbe a birder or a birdwatcher? Yes, he says, there are differences.

I was introduced to the world of birds when I was 31 and living in Aberdeen. My early mentors were both named Dan. One was a degreed ornithologist and bander who zealously pursued birds, the other was a laid-back amateur who perched in a lawn chair and let birds come to him. Despite their differences, both were influential and supportive as I muddled along, convinced that I would never be able to distinguish one sparrow from another.

Those early years of birding were exciting, and my new interest felt natural. I was curious, enjoyed the outdoors and really liked solitude. I also relished competition, so I took to the idea of checklists as a type of scorekeeping. Each check mark came to represent a victory. This concept was central to my motivation to go out and look for birds. In some ways it became more about the birds I had not seen than about the ones I had.

I became that strange, suspicious character stalking the elm-canopied streets and overly manicured city parks of Aberdeen, binoculars permanently collared around my neck. Soon I was migrating to Sand Lake National Wildlife Refuge northeast of Aberdeen at least once a week and peeping down every back road. My home range expanded quickly as I searched for new habitat and boxes to check. Long daily excursions — Sand Lake to Sica Hollow and Hartford Beach, ending with an evening roost at Waubay National Wildlife Refuge — became routine.

Like most birders, I kept a variety of checklists: yard, patch, year, state, life, and even county by county lists. My desire to amass totals culminated in a turning point in my birding life — a quest to see 300 species within the borders of South Dakota in one year.

Then I moved to the northern Black Hills, and I knew that sojourns to the prairie — particularly east of the Missouri River — would be limited, but necessary, if I was to reach my goal. Differences in bird diversity and distribution, especially during migration, would make reaching 300 difficult without winging my way east several times. By the end of that year, successful as it was, I still felt unfulfilled and disillusioned. Unsuccessful excursions, in pursuit of specific species, were discouraging and felt like wasted time, plus I felt pangs of guilt over my carbon footprint. Even successful sojourns, like a day trip to Hot Springs to spot a lesser goldfinch, began to lose meaning and significance.

The trees around Prisbe’s home in the northern Black Hills teem with wildlife, including this northern saw-whet owl.

My appreciation of simply being in the field and observing whatever nature presented had been parasitized by the pace of my quest, my fixation on target birds and list totals. What I had always described as my passionate obsession had lost some flight feathers. How much had I failed to appreciate, or even notice, along the way? Had I become jaded by my search for”good birds?” Was I guilty of a”just a robin” mentality?

It was time to learn from my lawn chair mentor and just let the birds come to me. I established Hanna Circle — a 3 1/2-mile radius from our home at Hanna in southcentral Lawrence County — as my”patch.”

Limiting my range proved difficult. I found myself verdant with envy when reading reports of migrating warblers and shorebirds and species that I was unlikely to see in the Black Hills. The urge to respond to reports of rare or unusual species was difficult to cage.

My focus shifted from searching to observing — from birding to bird watching. Gradually, I began to recognize the rewards of this new and slower pace. I began to appreciate birds as individuals instead of members of a particular species with a corresponding box to be checked. I stopped using common birder expressions like”good birds” and”trash birds,” coming to regard such terms as disrespectful and inappropriate. I now understood my wife’s displeasure every time I said,”just a robin.” My binoculars became judgment free. So complete became my reformation that I would admonish total strangers when I overheard them using the phrase”kill two birds with one stone.” I suggested a substitute:”fledge two birds with one nest.”

I was happy and enjoying birds more than ever. Daily hikes into the diverse habitat surrounding our home became routine, bordering on obsessive. I grew familiar with the area and the activity of its inhabitants. Soon, I was sure that the local birds were becoming familiar with me, too. I kept a daily journal, recording species in the order in which they presented themselves, noting the number, nesting and behavioral activity, weather conditions, and whatever else seemed relevant, such as wildflower blossom dates, butterfly flight periods, and getting down on my knees to inspect fungi and overlooked downscapes underfoot.

For the past 15 years, I have been able to compare observations day to day, week to week, season to season, year to year and marvel at the serendipity. Not possessing the power of omnipresence — something every birder must desire — I know that many species have escaped my observation, simply because of my many remarkable and unexpected sightings. My Hanna Circle list now totals 210 species, 61 of which are one-time wonders. Another 43 have been observed three or fewer times.

Most birders, at least the ones I know, would be uncomfortable with a year list that is consistently and substantially fewer than 200. I have no qualms with listing or chasing, but it’s not for me. My commitment to observing birds simply cannot be measured by marks on a checklist or miles on an odometer.

Birder or birdwatcher? Is there a difference, or is this a nuanced description of the same thing? To me, they are not the same. I have spent considerable time thinking about my relationship with birds and the natural world. Like birds, we have behavioral traits that define us, and we adapt individually to circumstance. My evolution from avid birder to birdwatcher, or patch observer, is probably a rare morph, but it has brought me to a comfortable place: home.

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the May/June 2020 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

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Finding Frank Ashford

Aberdeen’s Troy McQuillen became fascinated by the work of Frank Ashford at the K.O. Lee Aberdeen Public Library, which owns several oil paintings by the Brown County artist. McQuillen is searching the world for more of Ashford’s work, and hopes to answer at least some of the questions that remain about the quiet painter from Stratford. Photo by Stephanie Staab

There’s a painting in the Dacotah Prairie Museum in Aberdeen of a woman wearing a salmon-colored sleeveless dress, a floral print shawl, her left hand drawn to her chest as she gazes off the canvas directly at the viewer. Twelve years ago, when South Dakota Magazine assembled a list of paintings every South Dakotan should see, the late John Day — a widely respected art scholar and then curator of the Oscar Howe Gallery at the University of South Dakota — included Woman with a Shawl on his list of the 10 best paintings ever produced by a South Dakotan.

We know nothing about the identity of the woman and, for many years, very little about the man who painted her, even though Frank Ashford was considered among the best American artists of his time. Ashford grew up near Stratford and traveled the world, painting portraits of governors, Supreme Court justices, a U.S. president and the First Lady and other members of high society. He painted in New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, Seattle, Paris and the banks of the James River in Brown County.

Ashford likely produced hundreds of paintings, many of which have been lost since his death in 1960, several years before a young Troy McQuillen began noticing the few Ashfords hanging in Aberdeen’s public library. Decades later, those childhood memories sparked a quest to find as many of the old artist’s paintings as he can, and maybe learn something about the man along the way. Among his early discoveries? He’s not the first Aberdonian to go looking for Frank Ashford.

***

Elderkin Potter Ashford was a Civil War veteran, serving with the 23rd Iowa Volunteers at Milliken’s Bend, Vicksburg and Mobile, among other prominent battles. He moved his family to a homestead in Rondell Township, southeast of Aberdeen along the James River near Stratford in 1893. The Ashfords included his wife Cassandra, who suffered from arthritis and spent many years confined to a wheelchair, daughters Grace and Helen, and sons Ward, Fred and Frank, who was born in 1878.

The elder Ashford never lost his sense of patriotism. He hosted a grand celebration at his homestead every Memorial Day. Hundreds of people met to decorate graves at nearby Oakwood Cemetery, then heard speeches delivered from the front porch of the Ashford home. Many locals believed that Frank’s interest in painting portraits of politicians stemmed from those annual gatherings.

Just before he turned 18, Frank left Brown County for the Chicago Art Institute, where he studied drawing under Frederick Frier and John Vanderpoel. After three years in Chicago, he spent a year at the Pennsylvania Art Institute in Philadelphia and another year at the New York School of Art, studying in both places under William Merritt Chase, an Impressionist painter perhaps best known for his portraits.

Ashford’s self-portrait.

Following his studies, Ashford established a studio in Paris, where he painted for seven years. He visited home in April of 1912, sailing on a French ship called the Bretagne, which passed through the same North Atlantic iceberg field that doomed the Titanic later that same day.”We passengers aboard could not grasp the full purport of the tragedy,” Ashford told the Aberdeen Weekly News when he arrived in town in May.”It was so overwhelming, and many did not believe it until we reached New York.”

As World War I embroiled Europe, Ashford returned to the United States permanently in 1914. He spent time painting in New York, Minneapolis and Seattle before settling down in South Dakota sometime in the 1920s. A Sioux Falls Argus Leader story from that decade referred to Ashford as,”such a simple, common, everyday person, friendly and unassuming, and not at all what one would think of an artist who had lived in Paris.”

Ashford was briefly married around that time to a model he’d met in New York named Marjorie Rickel, but they divorced in 1929. Locals around Stratford believed the marriage ended because Rickel could not get accustomed to South Dakota’s rural lifestyle and was bitter about supporting her husband, who excelled in making art but struggled with financial management.

Ashford painted several prominent politicians and judges beginning in the 1920s, including Louis Brandeis, chief justice of the New York Supreme Court. He painted three South Dakota Supreme Court justices, as well as governors Andrew Lee and Charles Herreid. He later painted governors Leslie Jensen, Sigurd Anderson and Joe Foss twice, once as a politician and again as a World War II aviator.

His work was attracting an audience. In the late 1920s, he sold 11 oil paintings to be placed around the campus of the Dakota Hospital for the Insane in Yankton (today the Human Services Center). The purchase was an extension of the efforts of Dr. Leonard Mead, the hospital’s superintendent from 1891 to 1899 and again from 1901 until his death in 1920. Mead believed that creating a more welcoming environment through art and architectural beauty would help patients recover. He began an art collection with several watercolors in 1906, and the Ashford oils added to the campus dÈcor.

Perhaps Ashford’s biggest professional achievement came in 1927 when he learned that President Calvin Coolidge planned to spend the summer in the Black Hills. He asked his friend, state historian Doane Robinson, if it would be possible to have Coolidge and his wife Grace sit for portraits. The two exchanged letters, and eventually Sen. Peter Norbeck — among the architects of the president’s vacation to South Dakota — was added. The flurry of correspondence resulted in a sitting at the Custer State Park Game Lodge in July.

Remarkably, Ashford had the Coolidge paintings nearly finished by mid-August. He often said that he only needed to sit with a subject for three to five hours and could finish a nearly life-size portrait in about 10 days. Ashford produced two paintings each of the president and the First Lady. A portrait of Coolidge seated and wearing a light-colored suit and another of Grace Coolidge in a green dress hang in the lodge’s lobby. Another showing the president wearing a headdress and Grace in a red dress hang in the Calvin Coolidge Presidential Library and Museum at Forbes College in Northampton, Massachusetts.

Frank and his brother Fred (right), pictured in about 1940, were among five siblings who lived on the Ashford family’s Brown County homestead.

Ashford was happy with his Coolidge work.”The portrait of Coolidge, I think, is one of my best and it pleased him very much,” he wrote to a friend in Seattle.”Mr. Coolidge remarked that he thought it was the most satisfactory portrait that had been painted of him, which I considered a high compliment, as he had been painted by several noted artists.”

The following year, Ashford was commissioned to paint a portrait of William Henry Harrison Beadle, known in South Dakota as the savior of school lands because of his foresight to preserve two sections in each township for schools at a time when speculators gobbled up land at tremendously low prices. To commemorate the 90th anniversary of Beadle’s birth, the Young Citizens League and E.C. Clifford, the state superintendent of schools, created a plan to place Beadle’s picture in every South Dakota school. Ashford would paint the oil portrait and hundreds of prints would be made.

Ashford reportedly painted a portrait based on a photograph of Beadle, but the whereabouts of the original art and prints is a mystery.

Painting opportunities were slim during the Depression, World War II and the postwar years. Growing older and feeling lonely, he went to live with his brother and sister-in-law, Ward and Violet Ashford, in Salem, Oregon, in 1948. He became re-energized by the beauty of the Willamette Valley and painted several landscapes around the Ashfords’ farm. He also opened a studio, where he painted until returning to Aberdeen in 1956.

Ashford moved into the Boyd Apartments on the second floor of the Malchow Building downtown and settled into a routine. He met with locals for coffee and meals, and every afternoon stopped at Plymouth Clothing to visit a group of downtown business owners and friends. When he didn’t arrive on Nov. 21, 1960, they went to his apartment where they found him dead of a heart attack. Ashford was 82.

***

This story would be considerably shorter if not for the tireless work of Frances”Peg” Lamont. She spent more than a year researching Ashford for a paper presented at Augustana University’s annual Dakota Conference in 1990 and uncovered many of the aforementioned details about his life and career. Lamont served seven terms in the state senate from Aberdeen and was a longtime advocate for historic preservation, women, senior citizens and mental health. She was a founding member of the Dacotah Prairie Museum and Historic South Dakota, helped launch the Northeastern Mental Health Center and was appointed by President Ronald Reagan to the Federal Council on Aging, where she served three terms. She remained active in several endeavors until her death in 2008 at age 94.

McQuillen discovered Ashford’s Yellow Chrysanthemums at Pomona College in California.

Lamont was visiting the Black Hills with her parents, Fred and Frances Stiles, in the 1930s when she first saw the 1927 Ashford portraits of Calvin and Grace Coolidge hanging at the Custer State Park Game Lodge. It served as her introduction to Ashford, who was never far from her mind, even as she left South Dakota to attend the University of Wisconsin at Madison and found work as a researcher and copy writer for the Ladies’ Home Journal and McCall’s in New York City.

She and her husband William Lamont, a Harvard-educated fellow South Dakotan, made their home in Aberdeen after their marriage in 1937. The Lamonts became entrenched in life in the Hub City while Ashford painted in and around Aberdeen and Oregon. When he died in 1960, Ashford left 23 paintings in his apartment and the family home near Stratford. Local attorneys Hugh Agor and Douglas Bantz became the executors of Ashford’s estate and struggled to sell the art. They bought several paintings themselves and donated others to the Alexander Mitchell Public Library (today the K.O. Lee Aberdeen Public Library) and the Dacotah Prairie Museum. Lamont ensured that the two Coolidge portraits made their way to Massachusetts. Others have simply disappeared.

Nearly 30 years later, with Ashford fading into obscurity, Lamont began to wonder what became of his paintings. She launched a worldwide search and tried to learn as much about Ashford as could be discovered.”For years, bits and pieces of Frank Ashford’s life had delighted me,” Lamont wrote.”Finally came the time to write about him, but libraries, art schools and records were scarce. The search for Ashford paintings has all the elements of untangling a mystery.” Fortunately, there were still several families in and around Stratford who shared their memories of Ashford. Those interviews, along with a smattering of publications and newspaper articles, revealed a prolific and energetic artist.”It seemed that wherever he stopped, even briefly, and found an interesting client, he established a studio and proceeded to paint with vigor and enthusiasm, turning out untold hundreds of artworks.”

Lamont successfully located several of those paintings, and today McQuillen is continuing her work. He is the owner of McQuillen Creative Group, an advertising and marketing business located across the street from the building where Ashford lived his final years. He also publishes Aberdeen Magazine and wrote a story about his Ashford quest in early 2018.”I used to go to the Alexander Mitchell Library a lot when I was a kid, and his paintings were all over,” McQuillen says.”The images were just burned into my brain. Then as an adult, I started a magazine and got on the library board and really started to wonder what these paintings were about. I learned about his national and international reputation for being a pretty good artist.”

The internet makes searching a little easier, with paintings occasionally showing up on online auction sites such as eBay (a seller in Portland, Oregon, is currently offering an Ashford portrait of a boy in a cowboy outfit for $795). But there remains a lot of sifting through historical paperwork. For example, a newspaper article from the 1950s mentioned that a couple donated two Ashford paintings to Pomona College in Claremont, California on behalf of a friend. McQuillen contacted the school, which had no record of it. But staff at the college’s Benton Museum of Art searched the archives and found a still life called Yellow Chrysanthemums, dated 1916 and signed”Ashford.” The second painting remains lost.

Woman with a Shawl, among Ashford’s most famous portraits, hangs at Aberdeen’s Dacotah Prairie Museum.

Another elusive painting is The Three Sisters, a critically acclaimed work that Ashford exhibited in Paris in 1912. Records indicate that he kept the painting, and a photograph from an exhibition in Aberdeen during the late 1950s shows it hanging on the wall. But The Three Sisters was not listed among the paintings in Ashford’s estate when he died.

Other works have disappeared even more recently. During Lamont’s search 30 years ago, she documented only five of the 11 paintings that were sold to the Human Services Center in Yankton. When McQuillen inquired in early 2021, he found just three: Modern Madonna, Lincoln the Lawyer and a portrait of former administrator George Sheldon Adams.

For South Dakotans wishing to see Ashford’s work firsthand, a trip to Aberdeen in the best bet. The Dacotah Prairie Museum owns a winter landscape and six portraits: Marjorie (his wife), Fred Hatterschiedt and Ole Swanson (both local businessmen), Woman with a Green Headband, Woman with Coral Necklace and Woman with a Shawl. The museum also has Ashford’s palette, easel, his lamp for portrait painting and his wooden traveling painting case, still filled with supplies.

The K.O. Lee Aberdeen Public Library has Woman in Pink; Abraham Lincoln (based on a rare ambrotype photograph that he owned taken of Lincoln in 1858 and similar to the Lincoln portrait at the Human Services Center); Governor Joe Foss, The Aviator and War Hero; Woman at Piano; and Ashford’s self-portrait, among other works.

McQuillen has also launched a website, which includes photographs of nearly 40 paintings that he has rediscovered, with more to come.”My goal here is that if people or antique stores have paintings by him, then at least they would know who he is and what they have,” he says.

It’s a modest goal to honor an equally modest man, who should always be remembered in South Dakota’s art world and beyond.

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the November/December 2021 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

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Malchow Plaza

Brodie Mueller (center) and Carly Pochop (right) created Market on the Plaza, a coffee shop and gift store with South Dakota arts, crafts and foods. Their establishment opens onto Malchow Plaza, Aberdeen’s new gathering place.

THE THIRD SATURDAY in October of 2019 is unforgettable for many Aberdonians. They recall where they were when they heard the news. They remember smelling smoke before they saw the flames. And they remember worrying about the future of Main Street.

It happened on opening day of pheasant season, a festive occasion in the Aberdeen area where wild ringnecks still flourish in the flatland cornfields and grassy sloughs that surround South Dakota’s third largest city. By 6 p.m., hunters were finished for the day.

“I was at the Circus (a sports bar) when some guy came in and said there’s a building on fire,” remembers Carly Pochop, a local artist who runs a store called Colorful Creations.

Her first thought was,”Oh, no, I hope it’s not mine!”

Pochop rushed out to the street to find that though her shop was safe, smoke was coming from the big Malchow Home Furnishings Store, a cornerstone of the Aberdeen business district for 75 years. She especially worried about the people living in the apartments above the store.

“We’d just finished cleaning our pheasants,” says Mark Malchow, the third-generation furniture store owner who had been hunting with family.”I got a call from a friend who said there was smoke at our building. At first, I wasn’t too alarmed because it’s pretty common for someone to burn a pizza or leave a pan on the stove.”

Then the friend called back to say he saw flames. Still dressed in hunting garb, and with his dog in the truck, Malchow rushed to Fifth and Main. Like Pochop, his first worry was also about the residents in the apartments.

Fortunately, two of the tenants had smelled something burning and heard a smoke detector as they were exiting the building at about 5 p.m. They thought someone had burned their dinner, perhaps, but they hung around and soon saw smoke coming from a door. When no one answered their knocking, they kicked in the door, saw flames and smoke, and called 911. Then they began to alert their neighbors in the building’s 17 apartments.

The city’s firemen, stationed just four blocks away, were on the scene in minutes. They made certain that everyone was evacuated, and they fought to save the building while hundreds of people converged on the streets to watch and commiserate.

A play went on as scheduled at the majestic Capitol Theater, which is just a few doors north and across Main Street. Patrons watched local actors perform Bridge to Terabithia, though they could see whiffs of smoke wafting near the stage lights.

Firefighters kept the flames from spreading to neighboring stores, but they couldn’t save the Malchow building. Main Street was blocked off from car traffic for a few days after the fire, which added to the somber atmosphere. Then winter snow settled over the black ashes, and for months the Malchows and many others in Aberdeen wondered what would become of the empty hole.

“It was just a big punch in the stomach,” remembers Malchow.”Nobody died. Nobody was injured, not the residents or the first responders. So that was the best thing.”

*****

MIKE BOCKORNY WAS one of the Aberdeen residents who waited and wondered. He was also at the fire on Oct. 19, though not in his official capacity as CEO of the Aberdeen Development Corporation. He went to the scene to support Malchow, a close friend.

Malchow Plaza grew from the ashes of a devastating 2019 fire that destroyed one of downtown’s landmark buildings.

“I just wanted to be sure Mark was okay, first of all, and then to make sure anybody who might have been in the store or the apartments were okay,” Bockorny says.

Bockorny’s offices were then in the city’s Industrial Park, but he noticed, like everyone else, that the fire had left a hole in the center of town.”It was the first thing you saw as you turned off Sixth Street onto Main — a giant burned-out building that had collapsed,” he recalls.

At first, civic leaders hoped the Malchows might rebuild. However, Mark Malchow soon developed a plan with the Montgomerys, another longtime South Dakota furniture family, to partner with them on a new store in an empty retail building on the east side of town. The Malchows represent three generations in the furniture trade and the Montgomerys recently celebrated their 130th anniversary and fifth generation, so their collaboration was big news in the South Dakota business community.

It also opened new possibilities for the hole on Main Street, says Bockorny, and the timing coincided with discussions that he had been having with the community’s Chamber of Commerce and the Convention & Visitors Bureau.

The Chamber and CVB were already officed on Main Street, near the hole.”We went out and visited with a lot of our key community partners and we talked about whether it made sense to be located closer to each other,” Bockorny says.”We talked about the importance of downtown and what Main Street means to recruitment and retention of people, and the quality of life. Young people, especially, like to live and work and play in a downtown district.”

In the discussions, Bockorny also proposed a concept that he’d seen in other cities — a plaza that would serve as a gathering place. Then he broached the idea with the Malchow family.

“My wife Gina and I were driving to Sioux Falls for a weekend getaway when Mike called,” remembers Mark Malchow.”By then we’d had some other people approach us about the empty space, but we could see the benefit to the community. I talked to Mom and Dad and the rest of the family, and it wasn’t long before we all shook hands and said yes.”

*****

SPENCER SOMMERS WAS called upon to lead the planning. The Aberdeen native, an architect with CO-OP Architecture, was out of town on the night of the fire but he remembers thinking — as he was texted the awful news — that a lot of the downtown’s residential space was being lost.”What if it would just become another parking lot?” he wondered.

Several small shops and eateries surround Malchow Plaza, including One-Legged Pheasant Brewery, operated by Nikole Sidener and her family.

Quite the opposite has happened. Today, a new, $2.5 million office complex has arisen from the hole. Bockorny’s staff is headquartered there, along with radio studios for Dakota Broadcasting (now nicknamed”The Shark on the Plaza”) and a new coffee shop called The Market on the Plaza that features South Dakota clothing, foods, arts and crafts. Best of all, a beautiful outdoor space known as Malchow Plaza bridges the new construction to the old downtown, including the nearby Capitol Theater and the Masonic Temple, two Aberdeen landmarks.

The plaza is more than just a paved surface with tables and umbrellas. Sommers and his associates at Confluence, a landscape architecture firm in Sioux Falls, designed an island with a raised area in the center that adds privacy, beauty and mystique. The island will eventually be green with bushes, flowers and a shade tree, but Carly Pochop, the downtown artist who partnered with Brodie Mueller to start the adjacent coffee shop, led an effort last summer that filled the area with hundreds of yellow clay roses.

The rose project started after Pochop’s father died. She made a dozen clay roses for his gravesite to deal with her grief. Recognizing that others were dealing with sadnesses of their own — some due to the COVID outbreak — she offered free clay and assistance to all. Since then, 600 yellow roses have been”planted” in the new plaza, some with names, messages and Bible verses.

Sommers, the architect, admits to wondering whether the people of Aberdeen would use the plaza. Pochop’s roses showed that the possibilities are endless. All summer long, families, shoppers, downtown diners, theater goers and tourists gathered there. It also became a popular outdoor venue for concerts, farmers markets, car shows and numerous other events.

Malchow says the plaza is everything his family hoped it would be, although he admits to a tinge of nostalgia when he sits in a particular spot and recognizes that it was a favorite place in the store. Still, he says the transformation is good for Aberdeen.

“I am a downtown person. I always will be and my dad always will be. Downtown was just getting some traction and now the plaza will only help it grow,” he says.”We love to go downtown for dinner and then just sit in the plaza, maybe watching as people enjoy a beer or a glass of wine or ice cream. I just like the unassuming nature of it, and it’s very humbling to have it named for our family.”

Bockorny says the plaza fulfilled his most optimistic vision.”There was a concert recently where you could hardly move, it was packed, and it was just so good to see people having fun and socializing and laughing.” And he believes Malchow Plaza is making a difference beyond Fifth and Main.”The interest in entrepreneurial business ventures is growing,” he says.”Downtown is coming back. It’s noticeably busier and people are looking for opportunities to live and work here.”

There’s another good omen: Shoe Science, which started downtown nearly 40 years ago, moved back to Main after the plaza was finished — to a building that was once the Webb Shoe Store, a downtown fixture for 100 years.

Marbles in a mural on the plaza’s south wall, painted by Aberdeen artists Nick and Nicole Fischer, show reflections of other city treasures.

The Aberdeen Downtown Association now hopes to reopen Main to two-way traffic after decades as a one-way. Sommers, who also serves as that group’s board chair, says the change might double the number of cars that pass by Malchow Plaza and the nearby shops and eateries.

The ADA has also promoted downtown murals, including a fanciful painting of marbles in the plaza by local artists Nick and Nicole Fischer, and supported an effort to restore century-old painted store promotions known as”ghost signs.”

The biggest downtown news came in September when Sommers’ CO-OP Architecture group announced plans to restore the long-vacant Citizen’s Building, a six-story brick mammoth just three blocks north of the plaza.

The Citizen’s Building, constructed as a bank in 1910, is the tallest building on Main Street. In its heyday, the six floors were filled with offices and the rooftop was an outdoor patio with a garden restaurant and tents for shade.

Sommers says the $9 million project will have retail space on the ground floor and up to 40 apartments on the upper levels, some with splendid views of the Brown County Courthouse, the Capitol Theater and prairie vistas, including grain elevators at Mina, west of the city. He and his partners intend to preserve historic elements that have survived, including a glass mail chute, original stairways and railings. They also hope to restore the rooftop patio.

Fire has plagued almost every downtown in South Dakota. But there are huge differences in how cities have responded after their flaming”gut punch,” as Malchow described his town’s 2019 fire. Stroll down Main Street today and you’ll have Aberdeen’s answer.

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the November/December 2021 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

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For the Birds

The Sand Lake National Wildlife Refuge in Brown County is among the world’s most important waterfowl habitats.

On a calm summer’s morning at the Sand Lake National Wildlife Refuge, visitors are immersed in the sights and sounds of nature. The sun’s rays peek through early clouds and reflect brightly off the water’s shimmering surface. A light breeze rustles the waist-high grasses. The water moves, but so slowly that it can’t even be heard lapping against the shore. Ducks float among the cattails. A single white gull glides into a cornfield.

This outdoors heaven was in jeopardy a century ago. Wildlife was disappearing as water slowly vanished from the marshland. But thanks to the labor of a future governor, the political skills of a former governor and about 200 men who were glad for any job they could find during the Depression, Sand Lake rejuvenated into one of the most important havens in the world for waterfowl.

The refuge encompasses both Sand and Mud Lake — created by dams built along the James River north of Columbia and northwest of Houghton in Brown County — and the surrounding wetlands. Its 21,498 acres are home to more than 260 bird species, 40 mammal species and a variety of fish, reptiles and amphibians.

Perhaps the best way to observe them is a slow journey along the refuge’s auto tour route, a 15-mile gravel path open generally from April 1 through mid-October, that begins at the visitors center and follows nearly the entire perimeter of Sand Lake. A brochure indicates 12 stops along the way, but traffic was light on the day of our visit so we could stop and go as we pleased.

Almost immediately, we spotted a whitetail deer ambling through the grass. A little farther down the road a white egret stood out against the deep, blue water and tall, green reeds. As the path crossed Houghton Dam, pelicans bobbed near the bridge, sporadically dipping their heads under water in search of fish.

Sand Lake attracts nearly 75,000 visitors each year. Most of them spend just a few hours marveling at its natural wonders. Maybe they imagine what it might be like to live in such a beautiful place, surrounded by diverse flora and fauna. Stephanie Herseth Sandlin doesn’t have to imagine. South Dakota’s former congresswoman and current president of Augustana University in Sioux Falls grew up with Sand Lake in her backyard.

Sand Lake is home to more than 200 species of waterfowl, including a white egret standing among the rushes.

Her great-grandparents, Lars and Oline Herseth, homesteaded on land about 3 miles southwest of Houghton on the east side of Sand Lake in 1886. The home in which Herseth Sandlin grew up was built in 1909 and features a large picture window facing west toward the water. She remembers watching thunderheads build on the horizon and millions of snow geese blanketing the water in white during the spring migration.”The refuge was a very special part of my upbringing,” Herseth Sandlin says.”We usually had Easter at our house because it’s the family homestead. After the Easter meal, everyone would load up in their cars and take a drive through the refuge so we could spot different birds. My grandmother in particular was a bit of a birder, and that was passed along to all of her kids. I think those of us who grew up on the farm took it for granted. Our cousins who came from Pierre and Northfield, Minnesota, maybe didn’t take it for granted quite so much.”

The Sand Lake area that Lars and Oline Herseth knew changed dramatically thanks to their son Ralph, who was born in 1909 — right about the time that people began to take waterfowl depletion on the Northern Plains seriously. The federal government had issued wildlife protections as early as 1864. Fish, sea birds, bison and elk all benefited through the creation of reserves. Migratory birds became the focus with the Migratory Bird Act of 1913 and subsequent Migratory Bird Treaty of 1916, an agreement between the United States and Great Britain (on behalf of Canada) designed to protect birds that crossed the international boundary.

Numbers did recover, but it soon became evident that sustained success could only be achieved through habitat protection. Those efforts occupied Congress for much of the 1920s, beginning with a bill introduced in 1921 that sought to create refuges funded through sales of a $1 migratory bird hunting license. That measure was defeated. Another bill surfaced in 1924 and appeared destined for a similar fate when its primary sponsor lost his bid for re-election.

That’s when Peter Norbeck got involved. South Dakota’s senator and former governor was a noted conservationist who worked to grow Custer State Park. He became the Migratory Bird Conservation Act’s new champion and immediately encountered resistance, primarily from Sen. James Reed of Missouri. Reed objected to the license fee, opposed the bill’s provision to hire additional federal game wardens to enforce its provisions, and sarcastically said that it would make just as much sense to create sanctuaries for jackrabbits.”To Congress, the whole bird conservation matter is a joke,” Norbeck lamented.

Pelicans float in a cove near the Houghton Dam, the earthwork that separates Sand Lake from Mud Lake.

Norbeck lost that round, but he returned with another bill in 1927. It retained the $1 federal hunting license, which Norbeck believed would generate $1 million annually for land purchases and law enforcement, and the creation of public hunting grounds adjacent to the refuges. Senators fought, but Norbeck ultimately succeeded in passing a somewhat weakened version of the bill. The steady revenue source had been replaced by an annual congressional appropriation, which came in fits and starts. Lawmakers approved just half the money Norbeck sought over the next four years. Still, the Migratory Bird Conservation Act led to the creation of 22 refuges encompassing more than 1 million acres by 1933.

In South Dakota, experts pointed to marshy Sand Lake as an ideal location. Families, including the Herseths, donated land to help make the refuge a reality. And who better to lead the effort than the young man who grew up on its eastern shore?

Ralph Herseth was the 26-year-old supervisor of the Sand Lake Civilian Conservation Corps camp. When Sand Lake was officially added to the national refuge system in 1935, he and his 200 men got to work building dams, digging ditches and planting the uplands to provide food and cover. They moved 120,000 cubic yards of dirt to build eight islands and planted thousands of trees and shrubs. The men also constructed a 108-foot-tall steel observation tower that visitors can still climb. It provides a beautiful, panoramic view of the refuge, though the ascent is not for everyone.”You look around and it’s a nice view, but if it’s a windy day there’s something about being up there and feeling it sway,” Herseth Sandlin says.”We took my husband out there when we were dating, the first time he came to visit the farm. I don’t know that he wanted to stay up there too long, and he hasn’t asked to go back up.”

South Dakota ultimately became home to six national wildlife refuges, all managed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service: Sand Lake, Waubay, Karl Mundt, Lake Andes, Lacreek and Bear Butte (managed as part of Lacreek). Each refuge boasts its own claim to wildlife fame. Bald eagles draw visitors to the Mundt Refuge along the Missouri River, trumpeter swans spend part of the year at Lacreek near Martin, and Sand Lake is home to the world’s largest breeding colony of Franklin’s gulls. Sand Lake has been designated a Globally Important Birding Area and was recognized by the American Bird Conservancy as one of the top 15 birding sites in North America.

After Sand Lake’s completion, the Herseth family enjoyed its benefits. Ralph and his wife, Lorna, hosted family and friends for hunting excursions on their land adjoining the refuge. A lifelong advocate of natural resources, Ralph Herseth brought those principles to Pierre when he served as governor from 1959 to 1961. Among his achievements was passage of the South Dakota Conservancy Law, the first step in the proposed Oahe Irrigation Project, because, he noted,”water was more precious than oil.”

Hands-on exhibits inside the Sand Lake visitors center help children learn about its variety of wildlife.

Meanwhile, Sand Lake became a playground for Herseth children. Herseth Sandlin and her brother often explored the refuge on foot or by three-wheeler. One winter, her father, Lars, bought a contraption that resembled a sailboat on ice skates that the family used to glide across the frozen pond.

It also offered early lessons in profits and losses. When Herseth Sandlin was 9, her father suggested she raise pheasants. The refuge offered $1 for every chick raised to maturity, banded and released within its borders. She began with 100 chicks, but barn cats took around 30 of them.

She tried again the next year, this time with 200 chicks. She built sturdy chicken wire fencing and eventually had nearly 200 fully healthy ringneck pheasants.”I banded them, put them out in the refuge and two days later we had the 1981 hail storm, and I’m not sure any of them survived,” she says.”But I still got my payment.”

If you’re traveling Highway 10, consider veering off at Sand Lake and spending an hour or two among the solitude. Let the grasses sway around you. Listen for the distinct song of meadowlarks. Look for the bright blue bills of ruddy ducks or the red faces and white rings of pheasants (maybe the Augie president’s birds weren’t doomed). All in all, Sand Lake provides a welcome respite for man and bird alike.

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the May/June 2019 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

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South Dakota’s Sledding Hills

Local youth take to their sleds at Yankton’s Morgen Park. Photo by Bernie Hunhoff.

South Dakota’s reputation for geographic diversity holds true when it comes to snow sledding. Some of our eastern cities are too flat, and the slopes in some of our mountain towns are too rugged, steep and rocky.

In Aberdeen, where the terrain has been described as”flat as a barn door,” city leaders manufactured a 25′ hill so kids could enjoy winter. However, we discovered that most communities have a natural hill that becomes a hot spot when it snows.

Pack your sleds as you travel this winter because there are plenty of hills to explore. Most of the snow hills are unsupervised, so adults should be ready to act if they see something dangerous — a heavy toboggan sled, for example, that could carom out of control and hurt someone, or a motorized vehicle on the slopes. Sledding has long been a favorite winter tradition, even for our flatland friends. Let’s keep it alive.

Here’s our list of city slopes. Tell us what we’re missing. We’d also like to know where to find the closest and richest hot chocolate after a day on the slopes.

ABERDEEN — God created most of South Dakota’s hills and mountains, but man assisted with the modest slope in Baird Park (1715 24th Avenue NE), the most popular sledding spot in the Hub City. City officials created the gentle 25-foot just for kids.

BELLE FOURCHE — Slopes behind the Tri-State Museum (415 5th Avenue) are a favorite, though they may be too fast for younger kids and there is a walking path at the foot of the hill so watch for pedestrians.

CUSTER — Pageant Hill has been touted as one of the finest family sledding spots in the Black Hills. It may be too steep and long for younger kids, but you don’t have to descend from the very top. The hill is the summit of beautiful Big Rock Park, which also includes hiking trails and a disc golf course. It rises above the city’s south side.

HOT SPRINGS — Southern Hills Golf Course (1130 Clubhouse Drive) is fun and scenic.

HURON — Toboggan Hill (6th Street & Lawnridge Avenue), aka Slide Hill, is a bluff above the Jim River valley on Huron’s east side.

LEMMON — The ever-resourceful people of Lemmon discovered years ago that it was less expensive to build a small hill for their new water storage rather than just build a taller tower. Then someone got the great idea or also making it into a sledding slope with a warming shack. Tank Hill is quite easy to spot on the city’s west side. Many years ago, when the water tower developed a leak during a cold spell, kids were able to slide on the ice flow all the way downtown.

PIERRE — The slopes above the soccer fields in Hilger’s Gulch are popular. The gulch is a scenic valley just north of the State Capitol building.

RAPID CITY — Meadowbrook School Hill (3125 W. Flormann Street) is a good spot, as well as the Civic Center hill that rises above the Holiday Inn Rushmore Plaza parking lot downtown.

SIOUX FALLS — Tuthill Park in southeast Sioux Falls is the site of weddings and parties in the summer months, but when the snow falls it becomes the domain of well-bundled children with sleds. Spellerberg Park (2299 W. 22nd Street), closer to the city center, also has a fair slope. Great Bear Ski Valley welcomes snow tubers, who get to ride the ski lifts.

SPEARFISH — Hills behind the Donald E. Young Center on the Black Hills State University campus are fast and fun.

STURGIS — Lions Club Park (off Lazelle Street) is a good place for younger kids, and Strong Field Hill on Ballpark Road is fun for older youth.

WATERTOWN — St. Ann’s Hill, a sledder’s delight, is so named because St. Ann’s was the original name of the nearby Prairie Lakes Hospital. Take Highway 20 to 10th Avenue and turn uphill.

WESSINGTON SPRINGS — It’s worth a drive to experience Ski Hill on the west edge of Wessington Springs. The natural setting in the Wessington Hills is idyllic, but the real attraction is an old, homemade invention with an electric motor that powers a 1,200-foot rope lift. Jokingly called the”Rube Goldberg ski lift,” the simple equipment has been lovingly cared for by handy volunteers, including Lloyd Marken, 85, who helped to build it in 1956.

YANKTON — Morgen Park (1200 Green Street) is the go-to sledding hill in town, however kids also like to slide down the earthen slope of Gavins Point Dam, where it rises above Pierson Ranch Recreation Area west of Yankton.

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Traveling with a Classic Guidebook

An arch that once spanned Highway 12 at Ipswich was moved to facilitate the road’s expansion in 1973. It now stands in a nearby park. Photo by Chad Coppess/S.D. Tourism.

Perhaps the oldest book in my office is a maroon hardcover copy of the South Dakota Guide. Published in 1938, the book was a project of the Depression-era Works Progress Administration. Out-of-work writers were hired to explore the 48 states and compile a travel book for each one, pointing out interesting places along the main-travelled routes.

In the summer of 2018, in honor of the book’s 80th anniversary, we decided to see what remained of the sites chronicled in the original guidebook. Some no longer exist, but we discovered several points of interest that drew the attention of the travel writers of 1938. In this summer of social distancing, perhaps a drive with the South Dakota Guide as a companion might be in order. Original copies of the book are hard to find, but the South Dakota Historical Society Press published a new version in 2005.

Here are a few examples of entries as they appeared in the original guide, along with our present-day observations.

Memorial Hall, Pierre

  • 1938: Memorial Hall is dedicated to South Dakota soldiers and sailors who lost their lives in the World War and houses the State Historical Society, Department of History and State Museum. Constructed of Hot Springs, S.Dak., sandstone, the building is stately and of classic design.
  • 2020: Memorial Hall still stands, though the historical society has moved to the Cultural Heritage Center. The building is now home to the state military and veterans affairs departments.

Graceland Cemetery, Mitchell

  • 1938: Left of the road is the Israel Greene Monument, a large red stone marker bearing the coat of arms of the Greene family — Nathaniel Greene of Revolutionary War fame and Israel Greene who captured John Brown at Harpers’ Ferry in 1859 while a lieutenant under Gen. Robert E. Lee. When the Civil War was over, Israel Greene came to Mitchell as a surveyor, living there the rest of his life.
  • 2020: The cemetery is obviously larger, but it’s easy to find the Greene memorial in Old Part Block II-A.

Highway Arch, Ipswich

  • 1938: The promotion of the Yellowstone Trail from”Plymouth Rock to Puget Sound” was begun at Ipswich by Joseph W. Parmley. A World War Memorial Arch spans the highway, bearing the name of the Yellowstone Trail and its founder.
  • 2020: The arch had to be removed when Highway 12 was expanded in 1973. You’ll find it today in a nearby park.

Main Street, Aberdeen

  • 1938: The site of the drug store in Main Traveled Roads by Hamlin Garland is at the corner of Main St. and First Ave. SE, across from the Alonzo Ward Hotel.
  • 2020: The building across from the Ward Hotel, a downtown landmark since its construction in 1928, is now a law office. Garland homesteaded in Brown County with his parents before becoming a noted novelist.

The Jump-off, Harding County

  • 1938: The Jump-Off is really a fault in earth’s surface extending N. and S. for many miles, the country is much like the Badlands on a smaller scale. It was in the heart of the Jump-Off that Tipperary, South Dakota’s most famous bucking horse, lived his entire life on the ranch of his owner, Charlie Wilson.
  • 2020: Tipperary is still famous in rodeo circles. A life-size bronze of the horse, sculpted by Tony Chytka, stands in Centennial Park in Buffalo.

Washington High School, Sioux Falls

  • 1938: Between Main and Dakota Aves., and 11th and 12th Sts., known as the”million dollar high school,” was constructed of native pink quartzite stone, with the north wing trim and column portico of a black quartzite so rare that it has been occasionally dismantled and exhibited at expositions.
  • 2020: The old Washington High School is now the Washington Pavilion. The black stone is actually Corson diabase, a billion-year-old molten rock that flowed into fractures in the pink quartzite and was mined at Lien Park in northeast Sioux Falls.
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A Creative Utopia in Aberdeen

Dan Cleberg, co-owner of The Red Rooster in downtown Aberdeen, works on the early stages of a painting during a recent Aberdeen Fallout Art and Music Fesitval.

There’s something different about Aberdeen. This off-highway town of 26,000 or so, built on a swampy, windswept lowland by the Chicago, Milwaukee, and St. Paul Railroad, hasn’t just survived the overall decline of the rural, Midwestern railroad town. The Hub City still thrives, and not just economically.

Many Aberdeeners point to local coffee shop the Red Rooster as a percolator of contagious creative vibes. Brother and sister team Dan Cleberg and Kileen Limvere started the venture in 1996. The town/neighborhood coffee shop can be a clichÈ, a place where “outsiders” gather and form their own “in-group,” a kind of anti-Applebees struggling — against its own constraints — to be outrÈ. The Red Rooster is something else — a place as inclusive as a Walmart, but where people gather for a higher purpose than Black Friday scrapping over a hot dog roller.

The Rooster — and its offspring the Fallout Creative Community — has become an incubator for local cooperative arts, taking care to welcome everybody, whether you’re fashion-challenged, differently abled, even people who listen to Don Henley. Fallout is the antidote to the corporate-sanctioned “creative” world monoculture, a place where everybody has value — people who maybe couldn’t monetize a hot dog hawking their online commodi-self — can still contribute. Millennials screamlessly interact with elders. Free-range children roam. Working class people redefine what it is they “do.” Unabashedly un-Hollywood people effortlessly flaunt their own self-worth.

Aberdeen’s Fallout Art & Music Festival is unique. There is no stardom in South Dakota. “Influencers” are so rare here, their influence itself must get stopped at the state line. Still, the ideational equity you’ll find at the Fallout is something to see, like a primitive communism of the personae where likes are distributed to each according to need. The whole scene at the Fallout Festival is so casually inclusive it could almost invoke emotions.

“The Fallout starts back shortly after the coffee house, which was ’96,” recalls Dan Cleberg. “I wanted the coffee house to be a place where we could have art — so we had a space for a gallery — and music. I had a little stage here for folks who play. And, so of course artists and musicians lined up. Eventually people started stepping up who weren’t identifying themselves before as artists and musicians. So this really cool scene started happening.

Chess at the Fallout Festival.

“And I had lived in a community in Chicago that served street people, people who needed service. I got this community bug and I came back and started talking to folks back here in Aberdeen about the idea of putting our efforts and resources together to serve the community at large.

“So I had this apartment building that had upstairs, main floor, basement and these guys move into it and instead of being three apartments, this became one big house. And we started seeing what we could do to help out the community. Back in that time, the high school was still just down the street from us. All these high school kids were coming and going around downtown. And we decided to invite a bunch of high school kids over to the house every Thursday. We’d get a little food from the Salvation Army. They’d hook us up, we’d feed them, and we have conversation. That was the only agenda. It was an experiment in community building.

“For this group of about thirty to thirty-five high school to college age kids, this was a really important thing. They’d go in, they apply for a job and they write it on their application, “I have to have Thursdays off.” That’s how important it was to them. So out of that group, we started doing some — like we throw up a party in the yard with a lot of art supplies, a stage, four bands, acoustic things or poetry and some crazy sport type thing like wrestling on old mattresses or bowling where the ball hits a ramp and smashes into a car or something like that. That would draw about eighty to a hundred people to these parties.

“So all this really cool creativity and community building stuff was happening. Now we need a mission. There’s a lot of energy, but what’s the point of us being here? I kind of pitched that to everybody. At some point, some guy who hung out at the Coffee House came to me and said, long story short, he wanted to play on our stage. I’ve never known him to do any music at all. So we’re going to get Richie out of his isolation.

“And that made me think of this other guy, Bruce [Likness], who had been hanging out here since we opened and he’s another guy with some mental and physical disabilities. We got him some paints and canvases and he did this really cool kind of outsider art. “Then he started telling me about his background. He doesn’t know who his parents are, so he made up this — based on science fiction movies — ideal background story. His mom was an alien from outer space that comes down and takes on human form. His dad’s a professor who doesn’t believe in aliens. They fall in love, she keeps it hush-hush. But then the bad aliens come down and kill his parents. He gets adopted, and that’s where he grew up. And, uh, he was always a little different, because he’s half alien.”

“I had the story of Quadman in my mind for years,” says Likness. “I like the stories from different sci-fi shows and movies like Star Trek, Aladdin, Batman, Xena and Gargoyles and I took ideas from those stories and made them my own story.”

A martial arts demonstration.

“So we started making a film out of it with this little camera,” Cleberg recalls. “In the meantime, all these creative people start hopping on board, and the story started expanding. This film that we thought we would show our friends in a week took about a year to complete. We had this full on opening… the red carpet and there’s a line down the street.”

Tom Black was one of those people who didn’t get in to that first showing. “I had just moved back from Phoenix,” Black recalls, “one night just driving down Main Street. There was a line of people all dressed up going into the Red Rooster. I tried to get in, but it was sold out. And I just wanted to go in out of curiosity. It was the world premier for a very independent, guerrilla-produced film called Quadman, and I thought, wow, that’s pretty cool. Then a few months later, a friend of mine said something about how Aberdeen had really no presence in independent film.

“So I thought, let’s just start a short filmmaking competition to see what comes from that. And we did. We just started a filmmaking competition that still runs today called the Fischgaard Short Film Project.

“Then the genesis of the South Dakota Film Festival came from that. We sat in a room at the Capitol Theater and had a conversation: ‘Hey, do we want to do an independent film festival here in the state? In Aberdeen?’ And the consensus was yes. Less than six months later we had the first festival on the ground.”

The story demonstrates how the arts institutions of a place like Aberdeen, like South Dakota as a whole, can originate, not from the pronouncement of some mega-celebrity, but from a scheme cooked up over coffee.

“Meantime with Bruce,” says Cleberg, “it turns out, you get a guy out of isolation and get him in community around friends and let him be creative, that does a whole lot of good for him.”

“Being in the Fallout helped me make friends and gave me many chances to do creative things,” says Likness. “And helped me to overcome negative habits and thoughts by getting me to focus on positive things. I had a new life that included friends and music and writing and filming. My life wasn’t just about work and problems with my disability.”

“So I’m thinking about Richie,” Cleberg recalls. “I’m thinking about Bruce, thinking this could be our mission: find people who are on the outskirts, adapt ourselves to include them. So I pitched this idea to the group and they were like, ‘Of course, that’s kind of who we are already, we just need to be more intentional about it.'”

Community members work on a soon-to-be colorful mural.

Over the years that mission has manifested in a range of creative projects, from the weekly Arts & Music night to the annual Arts & Music Festival, Cap’n Ralf & the Convocation’s Loud X-Mas Concert, and the touring, anybody-can-join band, Better Ride. Some of those projects, like Better Ride, hit the road on occasion, but the Fallout community’s ground central is still the Red Rooster.

Amy Sanderson, the Adult Clinical Director at Northeastern Mental Health Center, has witnessed positive impacts on the Aberdeen area through the Fallout community’s efforts to creatively engage people who might otherwise have been isolated. “I think Fallout has created a place where people can find community,” Sanderson says, “where people can feel connected, and belonging and purpose. For our clients here — with mental health issues in particular — we know the benefit of having positive art outlets, and it’s been a nice opportunity to get involved with some of those activities.”

Fallout pulls in a wide range of people, not all of whom are differently abled. Originally from Milwaukee, family members convinced William MacDonald to move to Aberdeen for work. He did, then the family moved away. He says Fallout is the reason he’s stayed. “Ever since I found the Red Rooster,” says MacDonald, “I fell in love with it and what they’re doing.”

He volunteers frequently helping set up or tear down for events, occasionally singing with Better Ride. The Fallout is now his only connection to Aberdeen, and that seems to be enough. “It’s just the love of doing something for our community,” says MacDonald. “It’s better than church to me. I fell in love with Aberdeen once I got to the Rooster, that was it for me. I don’t care what job I have. There’s a lot of things going on down here that’s good for our community and I want to be a part. I’m a hundred percent, no turning back for me.”

For Cleberg, the Fallout is an all-around reciprocal operation. “We’re not helping anybody. We’re building community. And within community, everybody has their own ability. You just look at a human being and you get to know them as a friend, and eventually you see what their gifts are and then you tap into that and you and they appreciate that because now they’re being useful within the community.”

He hopes that fallout from the Fallout will flower in other communities. “I want to figure out a way to duplicate our model anywhere. That’s part of what we do is when we take our festival and we shrink it down into a trailer. We go to other communities around South Dakota and just kind of tell our story and hopefully plant a seed of the idea that this can happen in other places.”

Michael Zimny is the social media engagement specialist for South Dakota Public Broadcasting in Vermillion. He blogs for SDPB and contributes arts columns to the South Dakota Magazine website.