September / October 2013

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SEPTEMBER - OCTOBER 2013

8 FEATURE ARTIST JAN RICHARDSON

12 THE CALLING Called to improve the lives of orphans, the World Orphan Fund.

14 THE DREAMER Dedication, perseverance and the desire to make a difference: Alex Smith.

16 PROMENADING Come do-si-do with the Swingin’ Beavers Square Dance Club.

Jan’s art is not about her; it is about inspiring others with ideas that never end.

18 F E A T U R E THE WIEDERGANGER

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LEGEND & LORE

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VIEWFINDER

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HISTORICAL SOCIETY

A Fictional Tale of Old Beaver Dam and the restless spirits on our lakeshore.

Spencer Hupf sat down to reminisce with Robert “Bob” Keller.

Ken Freriks shares some of his favorite images from near, not far.

Exhibit honoring John Beule at the museum through November 9.

28 THIS & THAT 30 AMY JENNINGS 34 PARENTING PROJECT

29 THE WANDERING MAN 31 STUMP THE BEAVER 35 FOR MY CHILDREN 3

F rom T h e E d i tor

LocaLeben is taking the trademark charm of the community we love and giving it a home online for a ‘Main Street’ experience with the connectedness and convenience of the 21st century.

There’s nothing better than the feeling we get from the place we call home. The familiar faces and places of our community are the foundation for treasured memories: the market you visit for Sunday night supper’s last minute ingredients, the park where your youngster first learned to throw that famous curve ball, the coffee shop where you always run into a friend.

Now we’re adding fresh ways to interact with the great local stories that color our community. Stay connected and go behind the scenes with us to get to know this town even better. Comment on articles, enter and vote in contests, and help create a showcase of what makes us special.

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Welcome home, we’re so glad you’re here.

Cover Image: “Obfuscate” by Caleb Weisnicht Created for LocaLeben Caleb Weisnicht is from Waupun and is a Freshman at UW-Madison studying Fine Art

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Man of Many Talents

John Beule had more adventures and talent than we could capture in just a couple pages. Good thing there are no limits online.

Go online for additional photos plus a multimedia experience of his time in Greenland.

The Dreamer

After getting to know Alex Smith’s story of dedication, dig deeper into what drives him to persevere. Also view more photos and a great video where Alex explains what makes AxMax a superior tremolo.

Make their eyes POP with our spooky treats.

Fun fall avors for all the goblins in your life.

The Calling

We had the honor to share with you the story of The World Orphan Fund. Come watch their video and read an in-depth outline of the projects that have been completed to improve the lives of orphaned children.

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KARLA JENSEN

R.J. JOHNSON

Karla Jensen has been a freelance writer for 24 years. A published playwright with husband Mark, she teaches writing at the Seippel Center. Karla’s background includes radio, television, magazine publishing, tourism and real estate, not to mention Danish Dancing.

R. J. Johnson believes everyone has a calling. His was to help orphaned children around the world. He has traveled as a volunteer to 22 orphanages, visiting over 2,900 orphans. A political consultant, he lives in Randolph with his wife Valerie and their three children.

ALEX SMITH

JANET WILLARD

Alex was born in Milwaukee in 1969, moved to Beaver Dam in 1973, and graduated from BDHS in 1987. Playing guitar since 1985, he began seriously modifying electric guitars in 1991 with patents issued in 2000 and 2001, and AxMax LLC established in 2011.

Janet Willard of Horicon, a former teacher and office administrator, is retired and actively participates in the Swingin’ Beavers Square Dance Club, with her husband Gary. Janet enjoys journaling and writing poems, when she doesn’t have a camera or a hoe in her hand.

LLOYD CLARK

SPENCER HUPF

Lloyd Clark, writer, jouster, swordsman and sometime political operative, has lived in Beaver Dam for 11 years, the longest of any place in his life.

Devoted husband, father and observer of the human condition, he can’t think of a better place to call home.

Spencer Hupf graduated from UW-Stevens Point with a degree in English and Creative Writing. He is currently employed as an English teacher at the Beaver Dam High School.

Born and raised here, he has been a resident of Beaver Dam his entire life.

JERRY KAMPS

MICKALE CARTER

Jerome H. Kamps taught high school art for 34 years. He has chaired museum exhibits, conducted student tours and contributed historical research as a Dodge County Historical Society board member since 1990. He is a charter member of BDACT and BDAAA.

Mickale, a Guardian ad Litem who represents the best interest of children in custody/ placement disputes and CHIPS (Child in Need of Protection) cases, hales from Montana. She moved to Beaver Dam 3-½ years ago with her husband Gene Kirschbaum.

The MAGAZINE

VOLUME 2 - IssUE 5

EDITOR Erik Dittmann

PUBLISHER Jim Dittmann

ARTISTIC DIRECTOR Preston Bowman

TECHNICAL DIRECTOR Benjamin Dittmann

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rtists who work with children are in high demand. Like ice cream on a hot day, both refresh us and draw out the child-like nature in our personalities that we sometimes bury by accident as we move into the responsibilities of adulthood. Jan Richardson, artist and art educator, is as bright as the sun porch where we chatted about her arts background. She reminded me of those impressive sharp crayons that find a home in the magical palace of a Crayola Crayon box. As children, many of us could have sacrificed a limb (or a sibling) for a grand box of 96 classic big box crayons. You could endure a week’s time out in your room, a boring visit from unwelcome relatives and possibly a marathon station wagon ride to Timbuktu with those resources at your fingertips.

Although some of the names for Crayola colors have changed, they remain a timeless classic, a lot like Jan. Richardson is not the flamboyant Electric Lime begging to steal the limelight. She is not even the Atomic Tangerine, bold enough to blind an onlooker.

No, Jan is the cheerful crayon on the left, the one in the back row that is brilliant but not overbearing, radiant but not so radical, tasteful but not tiresome. She is earthy, like the Crayola Sunglow, surely a color that brings out the best in everything and everyone else.

Jan Richardson is a detail. She is like the very first or very last stroke of genius placed upon the painting, the party, the class or the event to make conditions ideal and memorable. Her attention to detail could be either a foundation or a finish. Her art has never been about her, but about inspiring others and to fulfill her calling to work with children. Her home features some of her acrylics, watercolors, crafts and quilts. She has designed logos for organizations like Parent Place, and long ago, the Jefferson Jaguars. Before this conversation on her sun porch, I was not aware that Country Woman introduced Jan to the nation in the Christmas issue of 2004.

The spread featured Jan’s themed Christmas wrappings and included a pattern for readers. That is an accolade to be proud of and one she has never flaunted.

With Jan, as with the crayons, there is a fountain of artistic ideas that never runs dry. There is always more to choose from.

Jan began as a young artist in Beaver Dam at Jefferson Elementary.

“We listened to our art lesson on the radio until 5th grade when a real live art instructor was hired,” recalls Jan. From an early age, Jan adored handwriting, loved poetry and writing. Art thoroughly hooked her when she won a $50 savings bond in a contest with a

drawing of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.

In high school, mentor and art instructor Jerry Kamps encouraged her talent. “I loved that period of the day. I developed my simplistic style of drawing. To this day, I thank Mr. Kamps for saving and returning to me a few pieces of my artwork from those long ago classes,” adds Jan. After she started a family of her own, she embraced college and majored in Elementary Ed with an art minor.

In 1976, she came full circle and began teaching back at Jefferson Elementary in Beaver Dam. She retired in 1994.

Jan was as reliable as the fixtures in the classes she taught.

“Summer school art was my delight for 27 years,” declared Richardson. She offered as many art media opportunities as she could to children throughout the years, enough to rival that box of 96 crayons. Students knew her as Mrs. R and probably had no idea what her last name was. Who needed a last name with her artistic genius and tons of great art supplies?

Jan’s involvement with the Beaver Dam Area Arts Association (BDAAA) began early as well. She served as an art instructor and committee member/volunteer well before BDAAA found a home at the Seippel Arts Center. With her devotion to the arts, it is no wonder Jan had little hesitation in being one of the first artists to commit to undertaking the initial formation of Artdrenoline Youth Art and Sport Camp in 2009. She worked to create a fun and organized atmosphere for a day camp despite the large undertaking it turned out to be. Jan has since continued to help every year, and in addition to teaching youth art club and homeschooled art classes, she has designed curriculum for the Young Writers Boot Camp, now in its second year. Richardson combines art and words, and there is nothing as compelling as a marriage between those two pursuits.

She is also a docent who welcomes guests to the art center with that terrific smile.

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Another organization Jan is devoted to is the Beaver Dam Scholarship Foundation. “Decorating for the scholarship awards dinner has been my primary role,” explained Jan. “I design wall decor, table favors and always create two Beaver pinatas to be given away as door prizes. The Scholarship Foundation has a wonderful history with many dedicated supporters,” says Jan, “and I am pleased to be among them.” Jan’s husband Marty has also been deeply involved in the Scholarship Foundation from the start, while he was superintendant of schools. They have both given countless hours to make this a huge success in Beaver Dam.

Richardson has a multi-layered reputation in the community, especially one involving pinatas. Thirty-five years ago, she began creating these works of art, many with themes enjoyed by kids and adults. “How many art forms are meant to be totally destroyed in order to reveal the treasure hidden within?” Jan asked. Not that many, I pondered, but the analogy struck a chord somewhere deep.

Humans, and in particular artists, share with me their life stories, their struggles and their victories. They, like the pinatas, can be hung up, ridiculed, beaten, broken and nearly destroyed, but the prize inside is a spirit that rebounds through the intimate, tedious, sometimes repetitive and powerful personal expression of one’s chosen art. It is encouraging for the rest of us.

Jan and husband Marty have wintered in Texas for several

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years at the Victoria Palms Resort in Donna, Texas. Jan became friends with the activities director, who could see Jan’s talent and begged her to hold a drawing class. In 2004, she began teaching “Beginning Drawing.” Her theme is “Come join me, let’s take a line for a walk.” Jan has even suggested to her group that they send some of their artwork back home to be displayed on their children’s or grandchildren’s refrigerators. “Turn about is fair play,” laughs Jan. “The idea was a hit!”

Just a year ago, Jan offered to teach Pinata-making to six grandmothers in Texas who wished to surprise their grandkids with these special art creations. They had a marvelous time creating pinatas with messy wallpaper paste. “We held only three classes. Design it. Make it. Finish it.” The simple act of creating it only to be destroyed is to find unexpected joy inside. I believe the preparation and annihilation of her art parallels her valleys and her mountain top experiences, and her joy in life as an artist, teacher and mentor. If you see a Grinch Pinata, or a Santa, Big Bird, Garfield or Raggedy Ann, think of Jan. She probably created it or taught someone else how to produce them to her quality standards.

Another art form Jan loves is creating her quilts. “I have always disliked sewing,” claims Jan, “but I love the search for the right colors and patterns in material to put together.” Quilting is a mathematic challenge, Jan relates. Her talent does not stop there either.

She designed and built sets for Beaver Dam Community Theatre’s Tell-A-Tale production of Beauty and the Beast, and she is an active member of American Association of University Women (AAUW). Jan is a rainbow of colors and ideas that never end. She has provided art instruction and art projects that have touched hundreds of us over the decades.

There is something magical about Jan and her many splendid art forms. I wish Jan would act her age though because when I am in a room where she is teaching, it is hard to tell who is enjoying the class more. She is just as thrilled as the students who are there to learn. If I were to choose a Crayola from that magical box of crayons, I would choose Jan - the Sunglow that bursts forth to accentuate everything else in the box and gives art its crowning glory.

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R.J. JOHNSON

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wish I could do something to help. That is what I used to say about orphans. I had read about the AIDS pandemic in Africa. I had seen the stories about Haitian orphans. I felt the calling, but I had no idea where to start until after a series of seemingly unrelated yet connected events led me to an orphanage in Honduras.

At a youth mission camp with a group of kids from Trinity United Methodist Church from Beaver Dam, I met a 20-year-old youth leader from Georgia. She sat down across from me on the fourth day and she said, “I think I’m supposed to ask you to go with me to Honduras.” I said, “I think I’m supposed to say yes.” Six months later I was with a mission team embarking on a four-hour pothole-dodging bus trip to Orphanage Emmanuel in Guaimaca, Honduras. We spent two weeks with the children at Orphanage Emmanuel. Most of the orphaned children we met had been abused, but to look at them you would never know. They smiled and laughed and played. I do not speak Spanish, but it did not matter to them. My name changed from Richard to Ricardo, and I knew this was exactly what I was supposed to be doing.

When I returned, I founded the World Orphan Fund. Our board of directors decided that we as volunteers would run the charity. (We all have full time jobs.) We have no paid staff, headquarters or administrative costs. That allows 100% of every dollar we raise to go toward shelter, clothing, medical care, education and other essential needs of orphaned children.

In the two years since, we have visited 2,800 children at 19 different orphanages. Our mission is to provide emergency and transformational funding - to solve problems that would not get fixed without our involvement. We have been able to raise over $350,000, and with God’s grace we have been able to do some amazing things, and often, it is not what we anticipated.

We went to Renacer Orphanage in Cofradia, Honduras last June because we heard their school might close; however, while there they told us how the children were getting sick from the water. We suspected bacteria and offered to test it. When we got the

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New Boys House at Orphanage Emmanuel in Guaimaca, Honduras results we were shocked to learn their water also contained arsenic at over 400% the safe level for consumption. We provided bottled water until we could find a solution, and this July, with a filtration system that we funded, the children began drinking from a safe water supply.

When a government orphanage burned down late in 2011, it left 150 kids homeless. Orphanage Emmanuel immediately offered to help. They took 75 children, including an 18-year-old boy named Giovanni. Giovanni weighed just 50 pounds, had cerebral palsy, a severe cognitive disorder and bedsores down to the bone. At best, he had two weeks to live, but the caregivers at the orphanage refused to give up. They fed him with an eyedropper, loved on him, Excitement follows the repair of a well at El Refugio Orphanage in Naco, Honduras

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Volunteers caring for Giovanni at Orphanage Emmanuel and took round-the-clock shifts to care for him. By the seventh week, he had gained 10 pounds. When we arrived in January, the orphanage was abuzz about the miracle that had occurred, but the director of the orphanage was concerned. They were not equipped to care for a 24/7 special-needs child and could not find space anywhere else. By sheer coincidence, we had just come from a visit at a nearby orphanage called Rancho Santa Fe, and they had a special-needs house for kids like Giovanni. We asked for their help and four weeks later he had a permanent home.

That is how we learned Rancho Santa Fe was running out of space for special-needs orphans. Giovanni had taken the last space available. Without our help, if something were not done, other children like Giovanni would end up with nowhere to go. So we funded a new special-needs house and by the time you read this story it will be fully functional and able to take 16 children.

Back at Orphanage Emmanuel, they were facing a serious space problem with so many new children. To alleviate the crowding there, we were able to fund a new house for 50 boys; this was just completed in July.

I am constantly amazed how much can change with just a little money and a different perspective. Another orphanage, El Refugio, had been surviving on $1,100 a month to care for 27 children and having trouble affording enough food. We were confused when they explained they were paying $200 a month for bottled water because we could see they had a well. We learned the well had stopped working, so we found an expert and for just $2,200 the necessary repairs were made, giving the orphanage fresh water, and the $200 they were spending on bottled water every month goes toward food.

We began this amazing journey because someone decided to ask a complete stranger to join a mission trip to Honduras. It has led us to orphanages throughout Central America and soon Mexico. There are 143 million orphans in the world, most in countries without a social safety net and poorly run government orphanages. We know we cannot help all of them, but we also know that every life we do touch, however briefly, makes an immeasurable difference to that child.

If you would like to find out more, visit our website at www.theworldorphanfund.org

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ALEX SMITH

H

ave you ever thought why things are the way they are? Have you ever asked yourself why did they do it that way, while thinking there has to be a better way? Some of us see the world and accept it for what it is and others see the world and wonder what could be. I am a dreamer. I am not Einstein. I am not a great performer, and I am not a politician. I am just a man with an idea and a crazy notion that I could change the world in some small way, specifically the guitar world. I have been into guitars since I was eight years old. Over the years, I have owned many guitars, learning how to play and repair them. I quit playing at times, put it down for a year or so, but I always went back.

When I was 15, I got my first quality electric guitar from L&W Music; it came with a Floyd Rose tremolo, a guitar bridge made famous by Eddie Van Halen and a few other national artists back in the early 1980s. Then I broke a string and I found my dream guitar just turned into my nightmare. I could not get it to stay in tune and had nothing but problems. For years I fought this guitar bridge. Then one day, I figured it out. I got it to stay in tune and it worked well, except for the now rusty bolts and worn out parts. There had to be a better way!

In the mid 1990s a friend of mine and I started entertaining concepts for guitar tremolos. We wanted to make a user-friendly guitar tremolo that would smoke the Floyd Rose and make a million bucks! It sounded great, but the reality was neither of us had the means to accomplish such a monumental task. I had ideas for a tremolo I wanted to produce, but I was a printer, not a machinist. I tried a couple different concepts with prototypes I had built by Tom Brzezinski at Tom’s Machine Shop here in Beaver Dam, but it was failure after failure, until one day it started to work. Not well, but nonetheless I was seeing progress. After a couple years of prototyping, I thought I was close enough to go after a patent.

I received my first patent in 2000, over a year after I contacted a patent attorney in Fond du Lac and found out this was no easy task. A patent search revealed over 40 inventions, necessitating hours of study to find a way to get my project done without legally infringing on someone else’s patent; this was frustrating and scary, although interesting to see what other people were doing.

I started to look into manufacturing the tremolo. I wanted to do it locally so I could control quality. I hooked up with Pivot Point in Hustisford around 2003. They make non-threaded fasten-

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ers and started producing the arm that actuates the tremolo. Pivot Point turned me onto another company, Barton Precision Components in West Bend. Barton is making all the very small stainless steel components. I still needed a company to produce the body of the tremolo. After being rejected by more companies than I can count, I found Tru-Cut in Fox Lake. They wrote the program and started knocking them out at a price I could work with, and in 2005, I had 100 aluminum AxMax Tremolos. I polished and assembled them with a friend in the course of a few days, but after testing, they were not functioning properly and they were not staying in tune. Looking into it, all my suppliers made a great product. The flaw was in the design, and I had had enough. All the money, time, effort and failures had beaten me down to a point where I gave up the project and found a new job and basically stopped playing guitar.

Four years later, my friend Scotty Meyer called. Scotty is a local guitarist from Waupun who needed me to do some repairs to his guitar. He stopped by and was telling me about a meet and greet with Frank Hannon of the band Tesla. Scotty knew the promoter who was bringing Tesla to the Dodge County Fair. We contacted the promoter and he planted a guitar with my invention in the car for Frank to check out. Two days later I get the call from Scotty that proved to be the game changer. Frank Hannon played the guitar and kept it. I needed to get to the fair and get backstage to get some feedback.

At the fairgrounds, I hung out with friends and family and watched Tesla play. I was able to get backstage thanks to a firefighter, whom I never saw again! I have never been able to thank him. If you are reading this, thank you. Backstage I met the promoter Ryan Vander Sanden. He introduced me to Frank Hannon and I found new inspiration to move forward. Since that day, Ryan has been a key player in my project.

In the summer of 2011, my wife and I went to her class reunion where I met Roxanne Allaire, a marketing director with Roxx Consulting in New Berlin, Wisconsin, who works with startup companies. Also around this time, I hooked up with Rotech Inc. in Mayville and started prototyping tremolo bodies. Within a few months, a small production run was ready to be tested: tremolo bodies with the form, fit and function that I needed to move forward. I contacted Roxanne, and we got going strong on marketing. Our business plan is up and running. We even entered the Wisconsin Business Plan Competition, where we made it to the semi-finals.

In the last 15 years I have been working full time and chasing my dream. I feel I have a chance to make a difference in this world. The Axmax Tremolo was on display for the first time at a national level in July at the Summer NAMM show in Nashville and we got a good response. We sold a few and made some important contacts in the industry, and I had the pleasure to meet some guitar heroes I have idolized.

The AxMax Tremolo is currently being built from brass and stainless steel components and may finally be a national competitor. All the components are produced locally and the AxMax Tremolo is assembled and shipped from Beaver Dam. Many thanks to my wife Jen and all my friends and family and business associates that have helped, encouraged and inspired me. None of this would be possible without you, and the firefighter. I am proud to say I am “Living Life Local.”

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JANET WILLARD

M

ost beavers are passionate about building dams, but there are those toes moving. Learning the basic steps is easy. Experienced some beavers in Beaver Dam that find square dancing to be square dance callers teach you the moves and the names of the calls. their passion. The Swingin’ Beavers Square Dance Club has You practice those moves until they feel as natural as walking. Your brought that passion to Beaver Dam since 1970. Over 40 years square dance caller continues the basic moves and steps into whole ago, do-si-do calls by their first caller Art Weisensel echoed through dance patterns. You and your teammates follow the calls - each arm the dance halls, and you can hear those calls now, albeit to more turn brings a surprise, and as the pattern concludes, all the arm modern music, when the Swingin’ Beavers Square Dancers take to turns bring you back to your partner. Back home, so to say! the dance floor.

It’s American folk art . . . Modern western square danc Regular Tuesday dance nights open with a flurry of busy ing has an American heritage. It is as American as barn raisings and singles, couples and families setting up for the activities, usually ice cream socials. Coming here with the earliest settlers, it has roots in the fellowship hall of Trinity United just as diverse. Square dancing mushThe logo used on literature and club name Methodist Church at 308 Oneida Street. roomed in popularity as more and more badges was designed by Bette Rahn The dancers know it is time to move people got in tune with it; 19 states onto the dance floor at the first hint of have made it their official state dance. music flowing from the speakers of Club

Creative new dance figures are Caller Tom Nickel. being added, and with the variety of

It’s fun . . . Square dancing is music available, you never have to worparty time, bringing people together for ry about being bored with what could fun and fellowship. The fun starts right become your favorite pastime. Like a on the very first night of class. You beaver passionately placing layers of meet new people and make new friends. sticks on his dam, square dancers layThere are few wallflowers and you do er their repertoire. Dancers can build not need to have a partner for there are on the basic calls by adding plus-, ad“angel” helpers handy to complete the vanced- or challenge-level calls if they squares of eight. The fun keeps right on are looking for more adventurous colors going as long as you do. More fun beon their palette. gins when you join a club. It is a won It’s captivating and rewardderful way to share common interests ing . . . From the first choreographed and to escape the worry and pressures call to the last, the Caller captivates each of today’s busy world. square. It is a fascinating dance involving

It’s healthy exercise . . . sequencing movements and multitaskModern square dancing is a mental and ing. With short breaks in between, the physical challenge. It is dancing, thinkdancers square up again and again for a ing and teamwork. You cannot do it by two-hour evening of exercise. Anyone just ones or twos. Moving in rhythm that has danced a dance from beginning to the music keeps you physically fit. to end knows the feeling of accomplishReacting quickly to the calls keeps you ment and enjoyment that square dancers mentally on your toes. Your team of love. Dancers excited about their aceight dancers depends on you to keep complishment show it with a smile and

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a swing that keeps them coming back for more. Square dancers share a sense of devotion and commitment, a purifying and transforming of minds from daily stresses and routine; laughter and smiles continue to draw them closer together.

It’s for you and most everyone else . . . New dancer classes start in October for those that want to bring their feet to the square dance halls in Beaver Dam. As a newly graduated dancer, you can dance twice a month with the Swingin’ Beavers or branch out to other area dances. Depending on your schedule and how much healthy exercise you want to enjoy, you can find a network of dances every night of the week in Wisconsin. Many dancers even head off to surrounding states or the National Square Dance Convention for more variety and to spread the contagiousness they possess. New to the square dance world, Brenda and Scott Deal of Juneau did just that and are passionate about the friendships they have gained through this experience.

If you are not now enjoying square, round or any kind of dancing, you are missing a lifelong recreation of enjoyment. It is what most of us are looking for in life.

Visit www.swinginbeavers.com or call 920-386-2951 to check out this great social mixer that gives dancers a great-to-bealive feeling.

Take a Peek and Trade the Wave! Stop building dams and turn your passion to learning how to Allemande Left and Grand Right and Left through friendship set to music - SQUARE DANCING. Karolyn and Ken Herren Photo: Swingin’ Beavers Scrapbook

Excellence. Delivered.

For Orthopedic and Sports Medicine,

it’s a whole new ballgame.

Beaver Dam Community Hospitals, Inc. has welcomed Bert C. Callahan, MD, board-certified orthopedic surgeon to BDCH and the BDCH Medical Clinics. With the addition of Dr. Callahan, the BDCH Orthopedics and Sports Medicine program gains the experience and expertise of a highly respected Orthopedic surgeon and extends its service line to include: • Advanced treatment of Orthopedic and Sports Medicine injuries • State of the art hip, knee, and shoulder joint replacement • A skilled team of Orthopedic & Sports Medicine providers, including physician assistants, licensed athletic trainers, registered nurses and medical assistants The BDCH Orthopedics and Sports Medicine Clinic is located in Outpatient Services on the 2nd floor of Beaver Dam Community Hospital. For our patients’ convenience, Dr. Callahan and his team also sees patients at the BDCH Medical Clinics located in Columbus, Horicon and Waupun.

For more information or to schedule an appointment with Dr. Callahan, please call (920) 219-4009.

www.bdch.com www.bdchmedicalclinics.com Like us on Facebook!

YOU HAVE OUR WORD ON IT.

17

T

he fall of 1861 was a decided change from the beautifully warm and sunny summer that had seen the thriving town of Beaver Dam expand at a prodigious rate. Autumn came in dank, dark and cold, driving the inhabitants indoors to escape the unseasonably frigid air and stinging rains. However, the chill in the physical atmosphere was not the only sinister arrival in the town on the lake - fear had arrived as well.

Since the week following the equinox, citizens traveling the trail to Fox Lake had seen ghostly apparitions in the dense forest north of town. The menacing figures, vaguely human-shaped, but seemingly made of mist, dogged the steps of the travelers from the moment they entered the wood. Even men known for their fearlessness and hardy natures were overwhelmed with a sense of dread and terror as sunset neared. Within days, no one would challenge the “Watchers in the Wood” to travel to Fox Lake.

Fear turned into panic when a cow vanished without a trace, nor track, from its dog-guarded pen. The leading men of the town formed hunting parties, patrolling the town in shifts from dusk to dawn to protect the citizens and their precious livestock. Two more cows, a dog and a horse disappeared without so much as a sound. Each night, fewer and fewer men showed for the patrols, until by the second week of October there were only a few brave souls continuing to venture out.

Even the few remaining Natives that lived near the lake reported sightings of phantasms and other “demonic” entities that walked across the water and disappeared in bursts of flame in the morning mists. Jumping Fish, who had lived in this area for many years, claimed that the land spirits, distressed by all the construction, would no longer protect the land from dark spirits. One day,

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less than two weeks before All Hallows Eve, the citizens awoke to find that Jumping Fish and the remaining Natives had packed their belongings and left in the night.

For Hans, just eleven years old and newly settled in Wisconsin from his home in Bavaria, all the talk of ghosts and demons provided all the fear and excitement a young boy could crave.

Finished with school, Hans served an apprenticeship with Samuel Hodgman, a cooper whose thriving shop sat on the northern end of Madison Street.

Mr. Hodgman and his father Asa were good masters to young Hans and he worked hard to learn the art of shaping wood and building barrels. To pass the time, Hodgman allowed Widow Schmidt a place in the workshop where she would tell stories from the old country. Widow Schmidt, the owner of an overnight boarding house for pioneers heading west, reveled in the stories of Prussia and spent many hours happily telling stories to the men as they worked.

Hodgman asked the Widow’s opinion of the supernatural happenings around the town. He was one of the few men that still took his turn patrolling the town at night and had seen a few things that unnerved him. Widow Schmidt looked out the window toward the lake. For the longest time she did not say anything, but when she looked back at the men, her eyes were wide with fear. “Wiederganger,” she said in a whisper.

At the sound of the word, Hans dropped the heavy planer he had been using. Being English, neither Hodgman understood what the Widow meant. For Hans, however, the Wiederganger was a terrifying creature of legend, one he knew of from stories told to him as a small child by his mother and grandmother on dark,

stormy nights. Hans explained that Wiedergangers are spirits of the murdered. Their corpses rise from the grave to gain revenge on those who killed them. They can only rise at night and must return to their grave before sunrise, and in order to keep rising, they must feed upon the blood of a living creature once a fortnight.

Widow Schmidt nodded her head in agreement and then said something that froze the blood in the men’s veins - there were already reported sightings of Wiedergangers in Wisconsin.

About ten years ago, a man had come to town on his way out west. He stayed just for the night, and before continuing on, he told a tale that he had heard in Waukesha about a butcher that killed a young man in a drunken rage. This scared the man’s younger brother so badly that he fled into a blizzard where he froze to death. Years later, a ghostly dog and a fiery figure appeared almost daily in the woods near the town. Most of the residents quickly figured out that the two murdered young men had returned, but the butcher simply laughed at them. One day, a local boy discovered the butcher’s body on the trail leading from the woods. Some animal had torn the butcher’s throat out and there were burn marks shaped like hands on his arms and shoulders.

The elder Hodgman sat quietly for a moment before telling them he knew the butcher when he lived just outside of Waukesha. The butcher died exactly as the Widow described it. It was soon after the butcher’s death that he packed his belongings and came to Beaver Dam.

“The boys became Wiedergangers to avenge their deaths,” the Widow said as she bundled up her things to go. Hodgman quickly disagreed stating that no one had died since before summer and definitely not since the harvest started. The Widow stopped at the door and turned to look at him over her shoulder, “No one that you know of…”

Hans did not get any sleep that night, and around midnight, he joined Hodgman in patrolling the town.

Hodgman and Hans walked north until they reached the edge of the forest. A biting wind blew from across the lake, pulling at their wool coats and forcing each to hold onto their hats to keep them on their heads. The woods were inky black and neither could see in more than a few feet, but after a few moments, they noticed a shambling figure moving through the trees in their direction.

Hans, frozen by fear, jumped when Hodgman whispered to the boy not to move and slowly brought up his rifle, taking aim at the now rapidly approaching figure. After taking a steadying breath, Hodgman began to pull back on the trigger.

From out of the darkness, Jumping Fish appeared, “Do not shoot me. I am not the Wendigo,” he said as he walked up to the two men.

Hodgman quickly pulled his rifle barrel up and took his finger off the trigger. Hans gave every impression that he was going to faint.

“Jumping Fish, what the hell are you doing out here? I could have shot you,” Hodgman whispered, obviously still shaken by the encounter.

Jumping Fish looked at him sideways, “Same as you, hunting the Wendigo.”

Jumping Fish explained that after moving his family mem-

bers to safety, he came back to track down the Wendigo. A Wendigo is the restless spirit of a murdered soul unable to move on to the next world. The spirits in the forest, the Mimakwisiwuk, were guarding the woods from the Wendigo.

Heading back toward town, Hodgman explained the Widow’s suspicion. Jumping Fish agreed that her Wiederganger and the Wendigo were the same, and from what he had heard, they would become more and more violent until they were able to have revenge on the person who had killed them.

Walking on Madison Street, Hans noticed movement on one of the many small islands that littered the surface of Beaver Dam Lake. No more than 50 feet from the bank, there was a pale and sickly green glowing light moving back and forth along the bank, much like someone was pacing. The men watched silently from the bank as the light then slowly began to move across the water.

While the light was obviously moving across the water, the water was as still as glass. Not a wave or ripple stirred its surface, even under the light! Hodgman and Jumping Fish pulled Hans down into the bushes. Squatting in the darkness, they were still able to see the light moving toward them.

As the light reached the shore, it transformed into a figure of a small girl of about six or seven. The girl was deathly pale. Her hair, choked with weeds and water soaked, was the color of straw. A large bruise covered her entire forehead. She paused on the bank to look around with cold dead eyes, before beginning to float up the hill that led to Madison Street.

The three were instantly on their feet and silently trailing the girl. They followed her north past Chatham and Greenwich, always keeping at least keeping 30 yards behind, and almost lost her when she turned east down Wall Street.

Hurrying, they once again caught sight of her just as she started to float across an open field heading toward Elm Street. As they closed the distance to the girl, they realized she was not walking; she was floating above the ground. The girl floated directly at a large house that stood nearly alone on Elm Street - Widow Schmidt’s boarding house!

The men dropped to the ground and watched as the figure of the girl became that of a huge wolf. The wolf then paced around the Widow’s house apparently looking for a way in. A few times, the wolf/girl paused to reach out with a paw to push at a door or window, only to quickly snatch it back.

For nearly an hour, the wolf paced around the Widow’s home. With a frustrated howl, she suddenly disappeared in a ball of sickly green light. No one moved. After what seemed like an eternity to the boy, Hans finally asked if she was gone.

Jumping Fish replied, “The Wendigo was very angry when she left. I am sure she will return.”

Hodgman, concern plain on his face, wanted to warn Widow Schmidt. Before he could get up, Jumping Fish grabbed his shoulder and explained that whatever killed the little girl was in the house, but magic prevented the girl from getting inside and told them a Wendigo cannot be killed. The longer it is kept from its revenge, the more violent it will become. Soon, it will be killing more than horses and goats.

Jumping Fish told Hodgman to stay there and quickly

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crossed the field to the house. After a few moments of poking around the back door, he returned. “Dirt,” he said, and after noticing that neither Hodgman nor Hans understood, he went on to explain that dirt from a burial mound prevents spirits from passing.

Whoever had killed the girl expected her to return.

The three stayed there throughout the rest of the night, but neither the girl nor the wolf returned. However, a grisly sight greeted the three as they made their way across Front Street. There was a huge black bear with its throat torn out in street.

Hodgman did not open his shop that day. The windows were tightly shuttered and the door locked from within. Jumping Fish had explained that only water from the sacred spring and an eagle feather could remove the dirt from the doorway. Jumping Fish had such a feather; however, someone else would have to draw the water and bring it to the house.

Hans volunteered to retrieve the water, and Jumping Fish explained the workings of this magic. First, the water must be obtained only after sunset and would only work if the Wendigo were present when the dirt was being removed. Hans would still retrieve the water, but he would have to do so after sunset and before the girl arrived again at the house. They settled down on the floor for a very unrestfull sleep.

The three awoke about an hour before sunset. Hodgman would go down to the lakeshore and watch for the Wiederganger.

Hans would take an empty pail down to the Sacred Spring on College Street and bring it back after sunset, while Jumping Fish went to the house and prepared the ritual by building a small fire and

20

smudging himself and the eagle feather.

Hodgman insisted they warn the Widow to stay out of her home that evening, and the three went directly to the boarding house. There was no answer to their knock at the door, nor from calling her name, but they did notice that the front door was open.

Worrying that something might have happened to Widow Schmidt, the three entered the house to see if everything was all right.

It was unusually dark within the house and it only took a moment to notice a foul odor coming from the back of the house.

Fearing the worst, Hodgman ran into the back and nearly tripped over a heavy linen sheet that was tied into a bundle. The smell came from the bundle, and when they opened it they discovered bones, human bones that had been gnawed on.

Jumping Fish immediately understood what the bones meant and said, “Anamaqkiu.” Anamaqkiu are the underworld spirits who are responsible for most of the evil in the world and sometimes they convince humans to help them. Jumping Fish was certain there was someone in this house helping the Anamaqkiu.

Hodgman was confused and asked Jumping Fish what all of this meant. Jumping Fish turned and hit him hard in the jaw, dropping Hodgman unconscious to the floor. Hans was stunned and all manner of thoughts raced through his head. For a moment, he feared Jumping Fish was responsible for the Wiederganger and he might end up as just a rancid pile of bones in a bag.

Jumping Fish told him Widow Schmidt must be the Anamaqkiu, and they had to hurry and get Hodgman out of the house before she returned. The two had just managed to pull Hodgman

out of the house and down into the field where they hid him in the bushes before the Widow arrived back home. Looking at the quickly setting sun, the Widow could be clearly seen checking every door and window frame before going into the house and pulling the door shut behind her.

Hans ran to the Sacred Spring, over a small wooden bridge that spanned the Beaver Dam River on High Street before crossing the small farm that sat between Mill Street and South Street. He arrived at the spring just as the sun disappeared in the west.

Hans waited until complete darkness before he filled the bucket with water and carefully made his way back to where Jumping Fish was busily smudging the eagle feather over a small fire. The smell of sage was thick in the air. Hodgman was nowhere to be seen and Jumping Fish explained that he had gone to the lakeshore to watch for the Wendigo. Jumping Fish also told Hans that Hodgman seemed to be very upset when he woke up.

Minutes dragged into hours, as the two watched the moon rise in the east, climbing toward the heavens. Somewhere around midnight, Hodgman arrived and pointed toward the Widow’s house.

Just as the previous evening, the girl was floating outside of the house, moving back and forth in a parody of human pacing.

Jumping Fish took Hans by the arm and the two quietly made their way up to the house. The girl, hearing their approach, shifted into the wolf-form and bared her teeth at them. Jumping Fish pretended not to notice and walked past her with the eagle feather outstretched, chanting lowly in the Menomonee language, Hans glued to his side.

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Approaching the back door, Jumping Fish circled the doorway with the eagle feather three times before dipping it into the pail of water. With a flourish, he cast the water down on the lintel of dirt that lay across the bottom of the doorframe and dragged his foot across, clearing the wood of the dirt. He then did the entire ritual two more times before turning and walking away, Hans still in tow.

Widow Schmidt did not go to the cooper shop the next day, or ever again. Much like the boarders that stayed at her home, she was gone without a trace the following morning. When the sheriff and a few of the leading men of the city, including Hodgman, went through her house, they found the personal possessions of nearly one hundred people, who had obviously checked in to the boarding house, but never checked out. The house was burned to the ground and the land on which it stood was covered with salt.

Within a few days, Jumping Fish and the rest of the Natives had returned to their homes. At his direction, a few of the younger Natives paddled over to the island that the Wendigo had been seen coming from and the bones of many young children were found there. They were given proper last rites and burials.

As for the little girl/ Wendigo/Wiederganger, she is still seen to this day wandering the shoreline near Madison Street. On moonless nights, those brave enough can go to the lakeshore late at night, and if you are “lucky” you will see her light moving back and forth slowly on one of the small islands offshore. But be very careful, you do not want to attract her attention. It is said she looks to this day for a person to show her the way to the afterlife - pray that it is not you.

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SPENCER HUPF

B

eaver Dam is a city on the move. At age 24, I have witnessed many changes to my hometown, both big and small. Most of us consider major change natural. We could not ignore the Wal-Mart Distribution Center, for example, being built and not feel the impact. Conversely, it is the little things, sudden happenings that can gnaw at us. Personally, this type of change occurred for me the summer before I started college. I watched the city build a sidewalk across from my house; I felt the sudden movement and change of the city.

Some may have felt this recently watching the reconstruction of Highway 151 around Beaver Dam. Near this important crossroads, I had a chance to meet a man who had not only eye witnessed the movement and progress of Beaver Dam over the years, but genuinely took part in its shaping. This agent of change is Robert Keller. Bob, as many know him, has been the owner of a Madison real estate firm since 1953. His family developed the Park

A young Bob Keller Photo: Keller family photo album

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Village Shopping Center, which includes Shopko and Piggly Wiggly.

He has over eight decades of fascinating history to share.

I sat down with Bob Keller and considered the enormous and gradual transformation he has experienced over the years. I could not wait to discover what life was like when he was a kid. As we reminisced, Bob focused elsewhere, beyond the restaurant where we visited to a completely different era. He painted a picture of what Beaver Dam was years prior. Bob was born at 506 Park Avenue, which turned out to be an important street in his life. At age six, he moved to 231 DeClark Street. Like many carefree children, he played baseball in the street with his friends near where he lived.

This was, he told me, back when children could run around safely in neighborhoods and play “Kick the Can” outside without worrying about anything. “Today,” Bob says, “a kid can’t even walk home from school. This is wrong because walking is the best exercise.”

He then went on to talk about how his mother worked in his father’s insurance office on Front Street. “Mom would walk 6 or 7 blocks to work every day and back every night and did this until she retired. Mom never drove a car in her 97 years.”

I found listening to Bob talk about his childhood, and a completely different Beaver Dam, to be quite nostalgic. We could have focused on that all day, but I soon asked about the beginning of his working life. “My first job,” he revealed, “was at 9 years old selling the Saturday Evening Post and the Ladies Home Journal.

The Post was five cents and my commission was about a half-cent!

I always pointed out to my customers a story in the magazine that would relate to their job or life. The local magazine distributor, Jim Zimmerman, discontinued the business. I then took over as Distributor for the Curtis Publishing Company in Beaver Dam at age 12.

In addition to the Post and the Journal, we had Esquire, Coronet and lots of comic books. By wagon or by bicycle, I delivered the magazines to all pharmacies in Beaver Dam - Langmacks, Thomas, Seiferts, Ford Hopkins, Schwakes and the Hotel Rogers. In each of these stores, I also designed their window displays.”

After high school, Bob joined the Navy, but served only briefly for one year before he was honorably discharged in 1946.

He then ventured on to the University of Wisconsin-Madison. He enrolled in the Light Building Industry course in the School of Commerce. After graduation, Bob’s first big break arrived unexpectedly during a stint as a salesman selling Quonset buildings and metal products. One day as he was waiting outside the office of a potential client, “I could hear the client shouting at someone on the phone.

He was obviously in a terrible mood. When he finished the call, he came out of his office and promptly informed me he did not want my products.” He said to Bob, “Can you draw house plans?” Bob said, “Yes” and quickly went home to get a plan that he had drawn while attending the university in Madison. But the man was still not

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Shopko Grand Opening Photo: Keller family photo album interested, so Bob simply thanked him and offered him a business card. “I truly thought that was the end of it,” Bob said, “but a few days later, I got a phone call from a real estate broker/developer John C. McKenna Jr. in Madison, Wisconsin. This stranger offered me a job based on the recommendations of the man who had no time for me.” Bob graciously accepted the job, and three years later, he opened his own real estate firm and has been at it ever since.

Knowing how Bob got his start, I asked him about the origination and expansion of the Park Village area. One of the first businesses attracted to the area was the Piggly Wiggly grocery store. At the same time, land from the surrounding area began to be developed for future and expected business growth. Soon his father Clarence Keller heard from the State about taking some of his land to bypass Highway 151 right next door. “Originally, my father, who served as mayor of Beaver Dam from 1938-1948, planned to fight it,” recalls Bob, “but I convinced my father this project would be good for the community and incoming businesses.” After the state completed the highway, exciting expansion followed.

“Things just took off. Piggly Wiggly continued to grow, by 5,000 square feet here, 10,000 there, until it finally reached its current size.” Starting his career Shopko store negotiations occurred when Bob Photo: Keller family photo album and his father sat down with the owner of Shopko at Walker’s restaurant. The Shopko owner wrote down on a napkin the size, cost and lease details necessary for the building to locate in Park Village Shopping Center. Bob read those specifications and they shook hands and that was it. The first Shopko store expanded and was later torn down and replaced with the current 92,000 square foot store.

As we finished talking about riveting Beaver Dam east side history, I stole another glance out the window at nearby Highway 151. It was busy as usual. I considered the roots of this active intersection and valuable shopping center and how its progress intersected with the man across from me. I could not help but see how his life has touched nearly every resident of Beaver Dam with his good decision-making and entrepreneurial spirit. As I shook his hand and departed, I wondered how Beaver Dam would continue to move forward in my lifetime. Who would follow in the larger than life footsteps of Robert Keller to make it happen all over again?

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24

Duet

P

hotography as a hobby has evolved into a journey nearby for Ken Freriks, bringing him closer to his hometown and neighboring communities through the lens of his camera.

Growing up on a farm in Waupun, he got his first camera when he went into the army in the 1960s, but when his stint in the army was over and he returned home, his free time was spent with his family and his passion for photography took a back seat. Then one day his son Brian brought home a new digital point-and-shoot camera. “Hey Dad, try this,” he chirped and that was the end of the story. Or should we say, the beginning of this story. Now introduced to the marvels of digital photography, he has been back at it for the past ten years or more. He finds most of his images close to home, and when he wants to see something different, he travels to the neighbor’s pond or the garden. Ken’s passion and technical mastery are evident in the images shared on these pages. He is a man of few words; his images speak for themselves.

Water Lily

Ken Freriks

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Water Falls - Granite Park

Jack Frost’s Handiwork

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Calla Lilies

Fall Sunset

Neighbor’s Pond

27

DAVE BOWMAN

T

here is nothing more inspiring or enthralling in our American psyche than “The Comeback.” How many times have we rooted for the down and out, the underdog, the team that has to climb insurmountable odds to at least have a chance to win, or just that small part of our lives that left and makes a return, sometimes wanted, and in some cases, sometimes leaves us wondering “Why?!?!?!”

We have seen many exciting and thrilling examples of the perseverance of the American spirit. After Richard Nixon lost the 1962 California gubernatorial race, he famously told the press, “You won’t have Dick Nixon to kick around anymore!” He came back in 1968, and we all remember how well that turned out for him.

Bill Clinton finished strong in the New Hampshire primary of the 1992 presidential race, and he was then known forevermore as “The Comeback Kid.” And who cannot be inspired by the 1987 AFC Championship football game where John Elway took the Denver Broncos on a 98 yard scoring drive against the Cleveland Browns in the closing minutes to tie the game, which the Broncos went on to win, referred to now as “The Drive.”

Many things do return to us - boomerangs, college kids, hairstyles, the size of a necktie, fads, foods and that small bit of salsa that you swore “Just a little bit won’t hurt!” Recently “Hostess” announced they were going out of business and, gasp, would no longer be making “The Twinkie.” Stop the presses! Katy bar the door! This country has taken a lot, but not that!!! Well, rest assured, cooler heads have prevailed, and the Twinkie will be making a comeback, with a shelf life increased from 26 to 45 days, albeit in a smaller size.

Here then are The Top Ten Things That Are Ripe, Ready and CLAMORING For A Comeback: #10 - Dickies (gotta love the faux turtleneck!); 9 - Pet rocks (cute, cuddly, instantly house broken); 8 - Leisure suits (powder blue, lime green, mauve, collect ‘em all!); 7 - Big screen 3D IMAX remake of the classic Saturday morning television show “H.R. Pufnstuf” (imagine what Tim Burton and Johnny Depp could do with this one!); 6 - Snappy and zippy sitcom catch phrases from precocious child actors (“What are you talkin’ about Willis?!”); 5 - Big “Farrah Fawcett hair” (with accompanying hair spray to maintain its integrity); 4 - Mood rings - the “expensive” kind that adjust in the back; 3 - “Dobie Gillis” beatnik and bongo poetry reading sessions; 2 - A “talking” teddy bear with cutting edge audio cassette technology (as if Teddy Ruxpin wasn’t creepy enough!); and #1 - Music videos to be ACTUALLY PLAYED on television music channels.

And with that, in the infamous words of “The Terminator”

- “I’ll be back.”

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THE WANDERING MAN ON THE BUS A N D NO T U N D E R I T

TAMON MARK UTTECH

S

uccess or failure may be none of your business, but your hometown where you were born, where you began to grow up (not everyone does), occupies a point on the map of your heart.

Whenever you return to your hometown you may be surprised at all the changes; “shikataganai” is a Japanese expression that translates “It can’t be helped.” Most surprising are the things that do not change. Old friends may openly marvel at the change in you, but because your connection inborn and strong remains, the open secret is that nothing has changed one bit! We are interested in ourselves; we are interested in taking another look.

These are my after-thoughts of attending Riverfest in Watertown this August 2013. Some of the locals call it “Liverfest” because of all the drinking and carrying on (no carry-ins) that goes on each afternoon until well into the evening when the park closes.

A solid 4-day weekend affair. The pun is said with affection rather than derision because ‘reunion’ is implied more than anything.

And reunions happen. Facebook simply does not have the power of Reality. Although I do not always find who I may be looking for (I do not always know), I am always surprised by who I find.

Features are things that change and do not change. Someone you have not seen since grade school may suddenly appear right in front of you; you know them. They know you. You are both surprised.

They may have their children with them, and the children resemble them.

I walked about the carnival grounds; the kids on the wild rides used to be me, and also my own kids. When places that you can’t go back to appear before you, you wonder where you are.

And you want to go back one more time. Not on the wild rides though. You know better than that. An old friend wants to buy you a bier.

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And it does until a tap on your shoulder wakes you from your night train slumber.

“The park is closing,” says the police officer. He wants some ID so you hand him your driver’s license and assure him that you came on the bus and are leaving on the bus.

The driver called it a yellow submarine. You know better.

It was a night train and it got you safely home.

29

AMY JENNINGS

I

enrolled in a drawing class this summer to expand my artistic repertoire and cultivate any inner Da Vinci I had been harboring.

The studio where I took lessons emphasized observation as the primary foundational skill: the key to good art is knowing how to see what you see. Of all the elements we explored, the class on light proved to be the most difficult for me, but it also proved to be the most influential.

Our homework was to put an egg under a lamp and draw it. Beneath the beam of light, the egg had sharp contrasts and lines, a bright glow on the front and a defined, dark shadow along the back. Yet when I drew it, my egg looked completely unrealistic. I could not figure out why this was, especially since I was drawing exactly what I saw. I spent hours sketching, shading and erasing, before I threw up my hands in defeat.

At our next class, my teacher explained the secret: when you draw an object, you cannot stare at it with open eyes; you have to squint. When your eyes are fully open, they take in all the light and shadow tones, most of which you do not need. Squinting blurs your view so that only the important ones stand out … leaving you

with a softer, more realistic shape of the object and the principal light that touches it. It then made sense that my original drawing did not work: I saw too many details; they cluttered my view of the object itself.

After discovering the trick of squinting, my drawing improved significantly. I redid the egg assignment and it looked like the real thing this time - a drawing worth a frame. I also realized that the lesson extended into other areas in my life. Once when I found myself consumed with a problem, a friend asked me about my physical vision. “You wear glasses, right? Are you near-sighted or far-sighted?” “Near-sighted.” “Ok, so you’re used to seeing all the little details up close, but have trouble seeing something far away. Maybe you’re having the same problem here . . . you see all the details. Try stepping back and looking at the big picture.” It is the same concept. Details can create a cloud around what we want to accomplish and we end up running around in circles because we cannot see beyond them. The result is frustration and a distorted view of reality. When you clear away all the clutter surrounding a situation - all the excess information, emotions and complications you see the important part clearly. You see your goal or the direction you need to take.

The drawing studio taught me to produce more in my work by seeing less. I thought being a good artist meant taking everything into account and seeing what you needed. However, this is not true.

Good artists change their view in order to see what they need, skipping the details that will clutter their work. This is the key to good art. I would argue it is key to a good life as well.

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ebration sounds like fun; when does that happen?

Answer: The next Beaver Dam Pepper Celebration will be held September 21 - 23, in Milwaukee and Chicago where a number of restaurants will be featuring Beaver Dam Peppers on the menu. The winner of the Beaver Dam Pepper Championship (for the biggest BD Pepper) will be announced on September 22.

See scrumptiouspantry.com for more information.

THE BEAVER

From the Beaver Archives: Darth Beaver.

P

lease send your questions to me at Beav@localeben.com. Also, let me know if you’d like to receive my Sunday e-mail, complete with photo and silly story.

Loxi from Harlem, Montana, asks: Do Beaver Dam Peppers grow on beaver dams?

Answer: No, those peppers are named after the magical City of Beaver Dam, Wisconsin, not because of what they grow on. Legend has it that Mr. Joe Hussli brought the pepper seeds to Beaver Dam sometime in the early 1900s. Reports vary regarding the actual year the seeds arrived in Beaver Dam. Some sources indicate 1912, some indicate 1913, and some indicate 1929. This works out nicely, since it gives us three opportunities for the Beaver Dam Pepper Centennial Celebration.

Loxi asks another question: Hey, the Beaver Dam Pepper Cel-

David from Beaver Dam asks: What is your view on premarital divorce?

Answer: Be prepared.

Hanna from Beaver Dam asks: Which costume do you like the best? I think you like the strawberry costume. My mom Heidi thinks you like the cheerleader costume.

Answer: My favorite costume was when I dressed up as the infamous Star Wars character, Darth Beaver. I got a lot of respect. For instance, my children almost obeyed me. Plus, with that light saber I could chop down trees like nobody’s business.

Ed, researching about nice places to live, asks: While researching nice places to live, I learned that Beaver Dam used to tout that it was the “Home of 14,000 Busy Beavers.” I hear that is not the slogan anymore and wish to inquire as to why?

Answer: Jealousy. Other inferior cities complained that the awesomely cool beaver slogan gave Beaver Dam an unfair advantage. I personally hope and pray for the day when the Busy Beaver Slogan returns and brings back the magic.

Pie Eating Contest Cookie Decorating Chili Cook Off contact Diana @ 920-382-6453 $10 Entry Fee Prizes for 1st-4th place BDAAA Driving Art Tour @ Tourism Information Center (old UPS) Live Music by BDAAA Musicians Vendors & Fun for the Whole Family

31

JERRY KAMPS

H

e was a man of many talents, an icon in the history of Beaver Dam, a beloved husband, father and citizen. John Beule - WWII veteran, musician, artist, conservationist, candy maker, scientist, Christmas tree farmer, weather specialist, wildlife biologist and fascinating story teller - is currently featured at the Dodge County Historical Society Museum. The exhibit, on display from Saturday, September 7 through Saturday, November 9, is honoring John during the Society’s 75th anniversary celebration. This is particularly significant since John’s Aunt Caroline, Peter Beule’s wife, was a founder of the historical society in 1938, and John served on the museum board for many years. It is also noteworthy that Caroline Beule was one of the first children born in Beaver Dam.

One of the exhibit features is John’s autobiography, beginning with his birth on January 19, 1916 and ending near his death in 2011. He began life in the first Beaver Dam hospital, a three-story wooden square-designed structure, now an apartment building in the 200 block of Maple Avenue. One of his early memories was that when he was only two years old, his father carried him to witness an effigy burning of German Kaiser Wilhelm, demonstrating how strong the anti-German sentiment was during World War I.

From little on, John had a lifetime interest in insects, especially butterflies, collecting them in the areas that are now Lakeview Park and Mackie and Mary Streets. He mentions that there was no Lakeshore Drive, only marshy areas, and he fondly describes his memories of sledding down Mary Street hill in the wintertime. Among his many stories, John tells that the world-famous speed skater Maddie Horn and her family lived nearby, so he was friendly with Maddie’s brother and the Horn family. John’s uncle, Peter Beule, added to Beaver Dam’s history by opening the first drug store and helping start the German American Bank.

As he moved into high school years, John became inter-

32

John’s first decoy ested in music and was a friend of the Harder family, one of the first families in Beaver Dam. Ervin Harder became a professional musician with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. All the Harders played instruments in their military band and introduced John to the clarinet, which he played his entire life. To earn college money, he played with several bands, traveling around the state during the summers. (A few years ago, in recognition of the Harder and other early bands, the Dodge County Historical Society received a large collection of clarinets representing almost every pitch.)

In 1933, John began college as a music major at the University of Wisconsin Madison, but he soon explored the idea of transferring to the Department of Game Management, a new graduate program introduced by teacher Aldo Leopold. After meeting with several professors, John was granted permission to enter the program as an undergraduate. He was excited to be in chemistry, botany and zoology classes.

Aldo Leopold became one of the most famous conservationists and environmentalists in the country. At one point, he came to Beaver Dam with John to interview Dodge County farmers about a partridge population survey.

He asked John to make this a project, which led to John’s first publication, an article in the Wisconsin Sportsman magazine.

WW II directed John to another career when he enlisted in the U.S. Army. Quickly, he received training as a weather specialist and was sent to Greenland until the end of the war. He and two other Army buddies made the weather predictions that were greatly important to the generals and leaders of the D-Day Normandy invasion on June 6, 1944.

While serving his country at Eggedes Mende in west Greenland, north of the Arctic Circle, John and those few Army men did what they could to explore the area and meet the small population of Eskimos. John trapped some beautiful white Arctic foxes and caught many codfish, which was the main source for meals. In that

desolate area, he identified a variety of insects and birds, including eider ducks, gillemots, gulls and Arctic terns. In the summer, it was never over 50 degrees, and the sun, moving in a swirling circle, never set. After being so close to the North Pole for so long, John wrote, “After three years, one month and twenty days, I gained my personal freedom.”

When John returned to Beaver Dam and his lifelong partner, wife Dene, his brother-in-law Steve Janczak encouraged the young veteran to join him in the candy making business. John’s Uncle Ed started the Trojan Candy Company on Front Street in 1901. John and Steve moved the store to North Spring Street. Throughout the next 20 years, Trojan became a successful, well-known company, and John and Dene became parents to daughters Carol and Jane. Beyond her other duties as mother and teacher, Dene learned how to dip chocolates and help with the business during the Christmas rush.

In 1951, John purchased land in Adams County to start a Christmas tree farm, eventually acquiring 600 acres, partially wood and partially marsh. Much to John’s liking, the land produced ruffled grouse, deer and woodcock. His first crop of trees was in 1958.

After the partners sold the candy business to Twin Colony in 1965, John found the career he always longed for - work as a wildlife biologist. The Department of Natural Resources hired him to be part of a Wetland Research group, a federally funded study of woodcocks in Wisconsin.

John’s fascination for wildlife birds was constant. In his writing, he describes his Grandpa Yasger cutting cedar telephone poles into 15-foot lengths and shaping them into decoy bodies. His Uncle John carved heads and attached them to decoy bodies, and then painted them. Grandpa Yasger and his four sons were avid duck hunters, and each son was given 12 decoys. John Beule inherited many of those birds. In 1947, at the age of 17, he carved his first decoy. He wrote, “I had always been impressed with the beauty of birds and the possibility of creating something close to that beauty was exciting.”

Within a relatively short time after he began to focus on his carving skills, John was exhibiting his decoys. Reactions to his birds were great, and many people paid high prices for them. In 1981, John and Dene traveled to Ocean City, Maryland to compete in the World Championship Wild Fowl Carving Competition. He competed again in 1982 and won blue and red ribbons. His Golden Eye hen won “Best of the Show.” Carving was his passion, as he wrote, “Carving has continued as a labor of love.”

The anniversary display at the Dodge County Historical Society Museum highlights several chapters of John’s life - quotes from his autobiography “My Life,” his early Beaver Dam life, examples of his outstanding carvings, Greenland photos and artifacts, and items from the first drug store. Videos about his Greenland experiences and a short composite of his life are also on view.

Exhibit hours at the museum at 105 Park Avenue are Wednesday through Saturday, 1 to 4 PM. Those who deserve special thanks for their contributions to the exhibit include Carol and Jane Beule, son-in-law Griff Coleman, museum curator Kurt Sampson, Trish Bauernfeind, Genia Fletcher, Marilyn and Roger VanHaren, and Steve Mueller.

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MICKALE CARTER

D

CPP is designed to enhance parenting skills and is made up of three interconnected, complimentary programs: (1) TransParenting Seminar, (2) Parenting Support Group, and (3) One-on-One Mentors.

Do you know someone Having problems communicating with their child’s other parent?

Whose children are misbehaving since a breakup or divorce?

Who has a child having trouble with drugs, alcohol or bedwetting?

Whose child is in trouble at school or just doesn’t seem to fit in?

Who is a new parent without a parenting support network?

Who is a step-parent?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, you might want to find out more about the Dodge County Parenting Project (DCPP).

As a Guardian ad Litem, I am excited because I have dealt with many Dodge County families who could use a little help. Many parents realize that they have a problem, but they do not know how to get from their current point A to their desired point B. DCPP can help them get to where they want to be. In the following examples, the names were changed to protect identities.

Elizabeth is divorced. Her former husband Tom was very hurtful to her during their marriage. Now three years since their divorce, Elizabeth still harbors anger toward Tom. She cannot seem to speak of him without getting angry - even when their child Joey is present. Joey is 10 years old. He does not want to tell his mom anything positive about his dad because he knows that it will just make her mad. Joey is depressed a lot. Joey has stopped handing in his schoolwork. Elizabeth is at her wit’s end as to how to help Joey.

DCPP can help Elizabeth sort through her own feelings and help her understand how her anger toward Tom is affecting Joey. DCPP will also provide a forum for her to discuss techniques that would allow Joey to enjoy the time he spends with his father.

Josie loved the idea of having a baby. She wanted to be the best parent ever. She decided that she would be her son Rob’s best friend, but Josie noticed that she was having trouble controlling his behavior, especially when they went to a store; Rob would throw tantrums until she gave him what he wanted. Rob has been kicked out of every daycare provider in town. Josie does not know what to do, but with the help of DCPP, Josie will realize that the role of a parent is to provide guidance and teach boundaries. DCPP will give Josie suggestions as to how she can give her son the guidance he needs and teach him boundaries. Then, DCPP will help her try out her new parenting strategies.

Debby married Albert a couple years ago. They both have two children who are around the same age. Debby is a strict disciplinarian. Albert is more lenient, so he turned over the discipline of

34

his two children, Alice 8 and Mary 10, to Debby. Both Alice and Mary are very resentful of Debby and do not want to do what she tells them to do. Debby is trying really hard to make the blended family work, but if she hears “You are not my mom” one more time, she is going to scream. Debby needs help! DCPP can help Debby and Albert understand that discipline cannot be handed over to a step-parent until there has been a bond created between the step-parent and the step-children. DCPP will help Debby and Albert work on creating a bond between Debby and Albert’s daughters.

Then, once that bond is created, DCPP will suggest strategies for gradually shifting some of the discipline responsibilities to Debby.

Ralph is the parent of an 11-year-old girl Alexis. Ralph did not see much of Alexis while she was growing up and have only recently been reunited. Ralph is an orphan and was raised by foster parents. He was never in a household for more than 2 years. Ralph was just awarded primary placement of Alexis. Ralph feels sorely lacking in his knowledge of pre-teen girls. He feels that he knows very little about parenting. What Ralph knows is that he wants to be a good dad to Alexis. DCPP can help Ralph through its mentor program with a mentor available to answer questions as they arise.

TransParenting is a program developed by Families First, Inc. and presented by Lutheran Social Services (LSS). Its focus is helping parents provide a nurturing, non-threatening environment for children during and after a divorce or other traumatic transition.

Church Health Services has agreed to provide a place for the training seminar at their new building at 115 N Center Street in Beaver Dam. After completing the four-hour seminar, participants can then take part in a support group facilitated by a licensed therapist. The group meets once a week and is designed to provide a non-judgmental, welcoming environment that enables parents to honestly and openly discuss their parenting dilemmas. In conjunction with the support group, there is also one-on-one mentoring.

This program is funded by donations, except for a $35 fee for the TransParenting Seminar. Initially, the program will be centered in Beaver Dam, where the cost for one year of the program is about $4000. We are hoping to expand to other towns in Dodge County as funds become available.

DCPP is an investment in the future of the children of Dodge County. If you would like to donate to the program or request a mentor, please contact Mickale Carter at DodgeCountyParentingProject@gmail.com or call (920) 219-9520.

If you would like to sign up for the TransParenting seminar, please call LSS at (920) 887-3171.

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ow that I have told you a little of the history, I would like to tell you about my life.

Perhaps it would be better if I were to call them memoirs of my life.

I was born in the town of Palesnik on April 21, 1922 as Magdalena Troll, daughter of Martin and Elizabeth Troll nee Muehl, who was the daughter of Jakob and Ottilia Muehl nee Kromer. My father’s parents were Josef and Teresia Troll nee Steidel, daughter of George and Christina Steidel nee Freivogel. I was their sixth child, albeit only the third living one. My oldest sister had died at the age of seven in an epidemic. Their second child was a boy who had died at the age of eleven in an accident. Their third child was a boy who is now my oldest brother Jakob living in Germany. Then there was a baby boy who had died at the age of 12 days. Next followed my brother Josef who was taken away by the Partisans in 1945 and has never been heard from since. He had been married seven weeks.

Then I came, and last, my little brother Andrew who now also lives in Germany.

My family was what people here would term peasants. We had only enough land to survive what with seven mouths to feed. As Grandma Troll was a widow, she also lived with us. I think the truth of the matter was that we really lived with her, as she had owned everything since grandfather’s death. The land, which they owned at the time, must have been no more than ten acres. Their livestock consisted of a team of draft horses to work the land; one, or at the most, two cows to feed the family; and perhaps two pigs and several chickens. As the family grew, it was impossible to make ends meet.

In the 1920s, the times got so bad that almost every family sent their breadwinner to foreign countries in search of work. My father went to the United States to Milwaukee and stayed there for two years from 1910 to 1912. I still have a photograph of him which was taken at the Star Photo Company at 338 Third Street in Milwaukee. He worked for the Falk Corporation and the Railroad. Although he would have loved to have come back to Milwaukee permanently, the United States did not permit anyone to immigrate in those years. Consequently, he had to go to Canada.

This is where I encounter my first recollection of life. On July 15, 1926, my father and two other men left for Canada. I remember waking up in the morning to the sobs of my grandmother with whom I slept. Dad was sitting at the table with his head buried in his hands. Mom was fixing breakfast when she turned and said, “Martin, go and call the boys in for breakfast.” Jakob and Josef, aged 12 and 7, were sleeping in the barn. There was plenty of room in the house to accommodate them, for there was an empty room with three beds in it. But the tradition was that any boy who did not sleep in the barn was considered “chicken.” Over breakfast, Dad told Jakob how to help Mother and Grandmother, as he would be the man now. Josef was also told to be a good boy and to do his share.

Then came the goodbyes. When Dad came to me, he took me in his arms and kissed me. I can still feel his big mustache on my face. He told me to be a good girl and asked, “What shall I bring back for you from Canada?” I looked at him and said, “Would you bring me back an orange?” He promised that he would not forget to bring back an orange for me. Then he walked over to the cradle where little Andrew was asleep, as he was not yet two years old. Father did not pick him up but gazed at him for a long long time and finally took out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes. He then placed his cane through the handle of his wooden trunk, slung it over his shoulder and walked out the door. Mom went to the train depot with Dad, and the boys went back to sleep. I tried to go back to sleep also, but to no avail, as Grandmother kept on crying and thus kept me awake.

I remember Dad writing that he had found a job in Canada. I also recall Dad sending checks home, which didn’t mean anything to me at the time. One thing I will never forget were the Easter cards, which he had sent to us four children. We each received a special card from him, which we nailed to the wall (scotch tape having been unheard of).

Our friends would stand at great length and admire the cards. They were more greatly impressed with these Easter cards than any art lover with a Michelangelo or Picasso. Even grownups spent several minutes admiring them.

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This is the bond between a man and the land that he works and lives upon, the land that he exists together with. Where his hands touch and change the land, the land matches him. He can never exist in a context besides this place because it marks him, hides him, simultaneously bringing parts of him into sharper focus. This too, is the pain of change, the map itself as a proposition of that. What does the man feel when the land that he knows is marked by hands other than his own? What does he choose to see?

- Caleb Weisnicht