Document - Historical information/data - Over the Years - Publication of the Dakota County Historical Society - 9/1/1989
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Over the Year Volume 29 Fall 1989
A publication of the Dakota County Historical Sociei
The Dakota County Historical Society
Museum are located at 130 3rd Avenue No:
South St. Paul, MN 55075, (612) 451-6260.
Introduction
This issue of Over the Years is a delightful stc
about a small community in Eagan Townsh
whose days are past. Nicols stood in t]
Minnesota River bottoms along the railw;
between Mendota and Shakopee, just east
where Cedar crosses the Minnesota River. Nice
was unique for a number of reasons, and the tal(
of its residents are homespun and endearing.
Fortunately author James Wallin captured tli
sentiments of Nicols' residents from the resident
themselves. Their stories paint beautiful image
of the town where trains rumbled and rare an
delicate wild flowers grew--where break-nee]
kids tobogganed and quicksand threatened the
unweary.
James Wallin has done a great service foi
Dakota County history, colorfully capturing thi bygone Dakota County town.
On the Cover
The Nicols Depot in the early 1900s. The station
was manned by agent Raymond Spencer an
Englishman. Dakota County Historical Society
Collection.
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/ y9 YO os 4~ The Life and Death
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A y= of a Most Unusual Town
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F. . O * C B y the time I first discovered Nicols, its glory days were
N N COLS ST ALL NND over and only remnants of the once bustling town remained.
y'tiE ! rrENNfALY • 7°° It seemed out of place between the shiny, new suburbs of
sR A. N Bloomington and Eagan, just a cluster of faded buildings
C. J• LA v . down in the valley of the Minnesota River. I knew it as a
-o rw'FO young man growing up in Bloomington, but when I went
o • • away to the St. Croix Valley, Nicols went away, too, forever.
IeA H Al
T WiPVr- Curious about what happened to that little railtown in the
sip 13 s )RW&WAes valley, I discovered that it had become a suburban
I.. Iho ghost-town, gone but definitely not forgotten. That was
interesting enough, but it was the uniqueness that caught
my attention. Nicols-on-the-Minnesota was no average
The Nicols area in Eagan town; it was most unusual for these parts, or anywhere for
Township in 1950. that matter. Who would call ordinary a Minnesota town
known as "quaketown," home of world-famous molding
sand, former onion-shipping capital of America, and home
to the rare perched fens?
The most unusual feature of Nicols was that most of it was
built on a damp, spongy peat bog. It was probably the only
"quaketown" with guaranteed daily tremors. The tremors
occurred every time a train came through. Imagine a layer
of moist pipe tobacco 30 feet thick, tilt it so it drains, and
you've got a good idea of the ground beneath "downtown"
Nicols. Joe and Liz Kennealy, former residents, say, "With
each passing train, the whole area trembled just like we
were having a major earthquake." The foundations of all
the buildings were just "floating" on the spongy peat. They
wiggled like they were built on rubber. Fortunately the
Nicols Pavilion and the schoolhouse were built above the
town on blufftop gravel. "You got used to it--the china
Fall 1989 Page 1
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Looking northeast at Nicols
Depot in 1964, a year before rattling and the pictures trembling every day and night,"
its demolition. Photo by Bob Kennealy remembers. Only Eph Beaudette had a real
Kuehn in the Dakota County "stand-up" basement; everyone else just had a crawl
Historical Society Collections. space. But in spite of the frequent shaking, the buildings
all held up amazingly well. Folks felt the trains most at
the depot and the old store, but even a block away
vibrations made the ground quake. It was just one
unusual feature of a distinctly different railtown with a
character all its own.
Another unusual aspect of Nicols was that it never
really was an official town, although it appeared on state
and county maps. Actually it consisted of a railroad
station and a few buildings within a larger rural area
called Eagan Township. In our country's early days, just
about every cluster of a half-dozen buildings had a bank,
which Nicols didn't, and even two buildings were big
enough for a post office, but Nicols never got this either.
By the height of its importance, in the teens and twenties,
few people knew the source of the town's name. (Actually,
back in 1867, the depot was built and named for John
Nicols, who owned the original site which was one and a
half miles to the northeast. He never lived in the area and
sold out his interests by 1890.) In about 1900, Jim Scott
erected the first general store, where old Cedar Avenue
crossed the railroad tracks, and in 1908 the Nicols Depot
was moved to sit across from the store. This became the
nucleus for the once famous station-town.
Standing on the old store site today, Ephraim Beaudette,
who lived here during the boom years, describes
Nicols: "The Scott Store was close to the tracks, and Jim
had a drive-through Fairbanks scale where farmers could
weigh in their loads. He also raised crops and cattle, and
he and his brother Paddy, who was mentally retarded, ran
both operations and lived above the store. Their store was
Page 2 Over the Years
VIAL,
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41'T VIL Jim Scott's Nicols Store
photographed in 1917.
Donated by Jack Kennelly,
Dakota County Historical
Society Collection.
different from others 'cause they even carried paint,
medicine, hand-scooped ice cream, and sold insurance.
There was a big screen-porch on the east side, where town
folks would get together for cold drinks, cards, and
socializing on warm summer nights. I guess Jim really preferred farming. The store was closed in the
mid-twenties and never reopened, but the brothers
continued to live there. I guess Paddy died in the mid-thirties; he was up in his seventies. Jim lived into A I~
his late eighties and he always lived modestly. They say
he owned farms and thousands of acres when he died.
"Just a few yards west of the store was my house, which
I built all by myself in the mid-teens, and my first wife
Molly and I raised five kids there. I'm twice widowed and
married again, you know. I was the area's
jack-of-all-trades, sawmiller, and thrashing machine
operator. I had a waterwheel in the creek that generated Jim Scott, general store
electricity. We had lights here 20 years before anyone else owner and farmer with,
in the count and there was enough juice to run Jim's left to right, Lode Blum,
Y, J Mary Blum, Loretta Lis-
store and the McCrank's house, too. After I moved to Prior sick, and Tracy Lissick.
Lake in '26, my brother Reo, the Brauns, and finally the Photograph courtesy of
Palmers lived there. Jim Lissick.
"Two blocks downhill to the west on the river was Charlie
Callan's bar and restaurant, Callan's Meadows. Old
Charlie ran that place for 40 years, then several others
had it. Finally I guess it was a Legion Club where boaters
could tie up and have dinner and drinks on the river.
While I lived here we never flooded here at the railroad
crossing'cause the ground is about ten feet higher. I guess
it did in later years. Charlie's, however, flooded lots of
times. In fact, they went under and cleaned up that old
building so many times that they had a ruler inside
showing the water marks from each flood.
Fall 1989 Page 3
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Nicols Pavilion in 1986 also the "Across the river on the Bloomington flood plain was
Biltmore Club and Tavern, built
by the Beaudettes in 1925-1926 Warren Carpenter's house and fields. He shipped produce
and located at 3650 Kennebec out of the station here. Everybody knew Warren and his
Drive in Eagan. It also served as wife, Christine (Pinky). She was the telegraph operator
a temporary school and general at the depot and their three kids were friends of our kids.
store and now houses two plumb-
ing and and heating firms. Photo "On the north side right across from my house lived Bill
courtesy of James Wallin. McCrank. He was a handyman and laborer, and he and
his wife had seven little McCranks. Next door on the east
were some livestock pens and a cattle loading chute that
Jim Scott owned. Joe Kennealy told me that one time Jim
took several carloads of cattle out and ran them up the old
road, which was just dirt then, and way out to Lakeville
15 miles south. Joe says it looked like something right out
of 'Gunsmoke.' Folks 'round here called it the last cattle
drive in Dakota County, and no doubt it was. Then
between the chute and the tracks was Scott's onion and
potato warehouse, and a bigger produce scale.
"Across the rails was the Chicago, Milwaukee, St. Paul,
and Pacific depot with Ray Spencer in charge. He not only
supervised all of the shipping, but he sold us passenger
tickets, too; if I remember right, a ride to St. Paul was
about 15 cents. Ray, the missus, and their little-uns lived
just a tater-toss up the road.
"A block up the hill and across old Highway 13 lived my
brothers and their families--Fostin, who was the area's
well-driller, and Rosario, who everybody called Reo, was
a businessman. The one-room school was just down the
block. Fostin had an arm crushed in a drilling accident,
but you know in spite of the terrible pain, he drove a team
of horses a dozen miles to St. Paul to get it amputated.
Back in the twenties, we Beaudettes built the Nicols
Pavilion on the bluff. It's a big two-story building with a
mansard roof and is still standing. Reo ran it as the
Biltmore Club and Tavern. It was a hoppin' dance place
and night spot for years. Back in the early thirties, when
a firebug burned the old schoolhouse, they held classes in
Page 4 Over the Years
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A 1930s photograph with Joe
the bar's party room 'til the new school was finished. It Lissick on left and Ephraim
Beaudette on right.
was good for a few laughs, too. Imagine a mother telling Photograph courtesy of Jim
her young kids to hurry up and get down to the saloon by Lissick.
nine in the morning! You might say those kids all passed
their `bar exams.' Prohibition was still on and we adults
were supposedly only drinking soft drinks there, anyway.
Fact is, there was plenty of 'moonshine' made and sold
right here in these hills; lots of it was pretty good, too.
"Anyway, we knew all of the farm folks in the area,
especially the Lissicks, Ruegers, Hauses, Adelmanns, and
Kennealys. They were pretty much considered townfolks.
So the old town was strung out about a mile long, the
depot, general store, warehouse, school, six houses,
several farms, and a bar on each end. That was Nicols."
An unusual Nicols feature was that, although tiny in
size, it was a "little giant" commercially. It never had
more than 18 adult residents, but it had the commercial
output and variety of a city many times its size. While
most tiny hamlets served normal farmers' and travelers'
needs, Nicols figured prominently in international trade,
agriculture, fisheries, and metal-working. It was known
all over the U.S. and Canada.
A special product called molding sand was Nicols' most
famous export. Through a rare occurrence, created by
glaciers, just the right proportions of silica sand and clay
became mixed. "It was absolutely the best molding sand
west of New York State," says Joe Kennealy, who took
over the operation from his father. "Charlie Snyder
discovered it, and the foundry that tried it agreed it was
`the best in the West' for sand casting bronze, aluminum,
brass, and cast iron." Even today sand is used to make
car and tractor motor blocks. Used by some of the biggest
foundries in the region, this sand is one reason the Twin
Cities became a leading metal-pouring center. Some of the
Kennealys' biggest customers were the once thriving
Minneapolis-Moline Tractor Plant, the St. Paul Foundry,
Fall 1989 Page 5
Zh l a:-
Driving in winter on the snow-
covered frozen Minnesota
River, Cedar Avenue Bridge world-famous sculptor Paul Granlund, and the huge
in background. Photograph Midway Ironworks at Raymond and University in St. Paul,
courtesy of Violet McCrank. which consumed about 6,000 pounds each day.
As proof of the high quality of the famous Nicols sand, it
was shipped for many years all the way up to Flin Flon,
Manitoba, 500 miles north of Winnipeg, fully a thousand
miles north of Nicols. Freight costs were very high--about
$360--equivalent to $1,500 today for every box car load.
The operation's owners finally discovered silica sand under
Lake Winnipeg, so they were able to artificially create their
own mixture and save the high costs. The Kennealys'
biggest year was 1953, when there were back orders for a
whole trainload in the spring.
These companies that once brought the Twin Cities world
renown are now mostly gone and with their passing, the
demand for Nicols sand steadily decreased.
Minneapolis-Moline vanished, replaced by a discount
store. The cycle companies disappeared by the thirties,
and many small shops either moved away or closed for
good. The seventies was the end of the era, when the
molding sand pits were replaced by new apartments and
office buildings. A technological change happened, too,
when artificially mixed molding sand was introduced, but
it's still very difficult to beat the natural Nicols mixture.
No doubt more than once an old metal pourer, surveying a
flawed casting said, "Yah, we should'a used the good old
Nicols product, now there was some real molding sand."
Then there were the onions--whole trains loaded with
'em--so many that Nicols, with nearby Mendota and
Wescott Station, became the "Onion Shipping Capital of
America" in the early 1900s. Onions from Dakota County
were shipped all over the country. The business was
largely due to entrepreneur Esdras Bernier and his son,
who had their headquarters in Mendota. They introduced
onion culture to the area, and sold seed and other supplies
Page 6 Over The Years
JA ilk 7 a,
on credit until a grower's crop came in. Irishman Pat Fee 1 K
and his family had as many as seven acres--over 650,000 4
onions!--in one hand-planted, hand-weeded,
hand-harvested field (not to mention 10 acres of potatoes
to boot). The Fees could hand-load two boxcars a day just t~ ,
by themselves. By the teens, labor-saving onion digging
:A
and topping machines had been developed, and this
allowed growers to plant even more acres. Even with theme
machines, everyone from eight to eighty had to work in the 4*1
fields, and because families were growing smaller, lots of
the local Nicols kids were hired for two or three cents an
hour. About ten tons per acre was an average yield for a year. .
In spite of all of the "hands and knees" labor involved, Jim McCrank harvesting onions,
the tangy tubers matured quickly and made a good cash possibly at Warren Carpenter's
crop. Unlike the Yukon Gold Rush at the same time, the Farm, ca. 1936. Photograph cour-
"Onion Rush" lasted quite a while--from the mid-1880s to tesy of Violet McCrank.
the early 1920s, when several bad years hit the area's
growers.
Texas farmers also discovered the "white gold" at about
this time. They had the advantage that they could ship
them fresh nearly year 'round, so the northern farmers
lost out. Every fall Nicols producers filled their own
basements plum-full, and many rented their neighbors'
cellar space as well, waiting for the highest prices. But by
1922, the long boom had gone bust; good prices never
returned, and area farmer John Jensen was offered only
a dime a bushel, about 250 onions, or 25 for a penny! He
had to burlap-bag and deliver them a dozen miles to St.
Paul for this price, too. In disgust, he pulled them out of
storage and used them all for spring fertilizer. Though
onions are famous for their ability to make the eyes water,
there may not have been any tears shed by hundreds of
rural kids as the last load of "Old Backbreakers" rolled out
of Nicols Station.
Fishing was another major industry of the tiny town.
Fall 1989 Page 7
- . , ~ .tea:.
Andy Lissick bringing in hay at
Nicols. Photograph courtesy of Warren Carpenter, who passed away at age 92 in June
Jim Lissick. 1987, was the area's commercial fisherman. He caught
millions of "rough" fish--carp and buffalo fish and even a
few of the ferocious-looking alligator gars, which he threw
out as inedible. Minnesota, with over 15,000 lakes, can
afford the luxury of calling some fish "rough," but in the
South and East these species are highly-prized "eatin'
fish." A truck farmer during the summer, Carpenter and
his crews would cut through as much as 24 inches of ice to
net their finny winter "crop." Besides the river, much of
their fishing was done on Long Meadow Lake, a large
river-bottom slough that empties into the Minnesota. "The
biggest haul we ever had was over 100,000 pounds in one
catch--that's probably over 20,000 fish," Carpenter
recalled. State law required that he always had to return
game fish, walleyes, northern pike, catfish, and even a few
bass back into the river or lake. "And in all those years,
you know we never lost a single game fish," he said with
justifiable pride. "I finally quit when I got up into my
seventies, but I think we darn near fished out all of the
rough fish down there anyway," he said.
While he did most of his fish netting during the winter,
Warren engaged in an entirely different kind of fishing
during the summer--fish farming, where carp were
hand-fed a special mixture. A new-fangled idea at the
time, he and his crews dug and squared out several large
ponds from the river-bottom muck, and the fish were fed
wheat just like barnyard animals. Fostin Beaudette
drilled some artesian wells, which were self-pumping
because of high water pressure underground, to supply
fresh spring water. Some of the "finned hogs" were shipped
out live from Nicols in tank cars with bubblers, just like
huge rolling aquariums. They went to a special place, too.
The Jewish "holiday" markets in New York City and
Chicago wanted their kosher fish to be only the very best,
Page 8 Over the Years
AWL
o- a
Fishing was a commercial activity
at Nicols both winter and sum-
and these fish were it. Considering that carp are known mer. Here Jim McCrank is spear-
as "garbage-eaters" in natural surroundings, this fishing around 1936. Photo
balanced diet was a good idea. courtesy of Violet McCrank.
Another river-based industry was ice harvesting, where
crews cut huge blocks off of the then-clean Minnesota
River. Stored in sawdust-packed ice houses, the ice kept
everyone's icebox full all year round.
A major project that employed many of the area's men
in the mid-twenties was the building of the huge Mendota
Bridge over the Minnesota. The Mendota, with concrete
arches nearly 400 feet wide and 100 feet high, was for
years the world's largest concrete arch bridge, and though
a bridge in Europe has larger arches now, the Mendota is
still the world's longest in length with a 5,000 foot span.
Though Nicols was certainly unusually busy for its size,
folks still knew how to have fun in their spare time. They
could have dinner and drinks at either bar, hunt, fish, ice
skate, or play cards down at the store. Only four miles
down the tracks at Hamilton they could watch the
legendary horse, Dan Patch, race on his home turf. And
Dan was the fastest miler anywhere. His record of 1:55
stood for over 40 years. Hamilton was renamed Savage in
honor of Dan's owner, Col. M. W. Savage. During the
winter, a family could hitch their team to a cutter and
sleighride on a highway of ice down the frozen Minnesota
into St. Paul. You couldn't go to Minneapolis on the
faster-flowing Mississippi, because stretches of that river
stayed unfrozen all year.
The bluff hills right at Nicols provided both school
children and their parents with the best sledding and
tobogganing anywhere. Eph Beaudette recalls, "We used
to start at the top and toboggan right down the steep hills,
then cross the road and the tracks, and end up way down
in the river bottoms three blocks away. If it was clear, we
Fall 1989 Page 9
went right across the road, but we built a jump in case of
traffic. Many a surprised horse driver saw three or four of
us wild-eyed tobogganers jump five feet in the air off of our
ramp to clear the wagon, then land with a thump on the
other side. You know, we never had a single bad accident.
Our drivers got to be so good, though bumps and bruises
were part of the game. And we were probably the only
sledders with a free lift back up to the top--we had a little
pony that we hitched to the toboggan to pull it right back
Ice skating was a popular pas- up for the next run."
time on the frozen Minnesota Les Spencer recalls, "The fastest but most dangerous
River. A Model T truck was
used to plow the rink for hock- sledding was right down Main Street after a good wet snow
ey, figure skating, and infor- or ice storm." Many a worried mother looked out her front
mal races. Photograph window to see her boys jump the railroad tracks, give a
courtesy of Violet McCrank. quick wave, and speed down Main Street as fast as a car,
then disappear into the tall grass only to reappear way
down in the frozen river-bottom sloughs. No kids could
have asked for better sledding, then or now, and the boys
and girls at Nicols were the most daring sled drivers
anywhere.
Nicols also had a baseball team, and the boys practiced
in a nearby cow pasture. They played teams from all over
the area--Savage, Oxborough (later Bloomington),
Mendota--just about everybody around. Several of the
Palmer boys pitched, Eph Beaudette was the catcher, and
they were pretty darn good. Eph says "We were too busy
to play ball anytime 'cept Sunday after church, not like
some of the city boys who had more time. But that didn't
stop us from being a tough team to go up against."
Nicols was notable not only for its commerce, but also for
the great natural beauty of the river valley. Black Dog,
Kennealy, and several other spring-fed brooks were home
to the wary, but tasty, trout. However, most of the local
kids seem to have been too busy "choring" to do much
fishing. Huge old cottonwoods and soft maples lined the
sleepy river, and pike, bullheads, carp, and 40-pound
"cats" attracted fishermen from miles around. They'd sit
under those huge old trees on a hot summer night, rod or
willow stick in hand, telling tall stories in the glow of
riverbank campfires, just waiting for "the big one that
wouldn't get away."
Page 10 Over the Years
,Jim McCrank, with nip coots, is
And how many things were more beautiful than whole well prepared for driving on river
flocks of geese landing on the bottomland marshes at lowlands in this 1930s photo.
sunset, their silver and white wings contrasting with the Courtesy of Violet McCrank.
orange-fired clouds and sky? The valley was home to a
great variety of animals--deer, bullfrogs, raccoons, fox,
mink, crows, hoot-owls, and hawks, just to name a few.
But anyone hunting or trapping had to be always watchful
for "Minnesota quicksand," a soft area of peat suspended
in water which looked safe but could easily trap and
swallow up a horse or human unlucky enough to fall in.
"We had quicksand right behind the house near the
springs," remembers Geri Ahlbrecht, a former resident.
Warren Carpenter watched a poor, helpless horse sink into
the ooze once, but had to just let it go--there was no way
to get out to save it in time. There were numerous springs
seeping out of the bog soil, especially near the bluffs, and
hikers were well advised to step lightly in the wet areas.
Nicols-on-the-Minnesota also featured grass fires which
often blackened the tall grass surrounding the town.
Seven or eight feet tall when a spark ignited them, the
grass burned like a crown fire in tinder-dry pines.
"Backfiring" was the preferred means of battling the "Red
Demon," and wetting the roofs helped, too. Amazingly, no
buildings were ever lost, even though there were plenty of
close calls.
But the perched fens were the most unique and beautiful
natural feature of "quaketown." Fens are grassy areas
watered by magnesium and calcium-rich springs; they're
so rare that the half-dozen fen areas at NicolsBurnsville
are the only ones known in the whole metro area. There
were about 5,000 acres of fenlands originally, but nearly
all of them have been destroyed, and only about three
percent (150 acres) remain, according to Dr. Welby Smith,
fen expert for the Minnesota DNR. "Perched" means that,
unlike normally level marshes, these are sloping so the
water is flowing, not stagnant. They don't grow normal
Fall 1989 Page 11
Automated ice harvesting at
Nicols in the 1930s. Photograph
courtesy of Violet McCrank. cattails and swamp willows, but instead a wonderful array
of specially suited, extremely rare plants. And unlike most
bogs, which are highly acidic, fen soil is neutral or slightly
alkaline.
The Nicols fens are the habitat for both the endangered
yellow and white ladyslipper, valerians, stunted bog birch,
shrubby cinquefoil, and more--about 20 very rare plants
in all. One of the biggest and best fens was partially
destroyed, and the rest damaged, when the new super
highway came through. Though a few people did dig up
or pick the rare flowers, thank goodness nobody started a
rare-plant store, or the fens would have been completely
destroyed in only a few years. Eph Beaudette says, We
used to get up at four in the morning and pick some
beautiful blooms and then bring them to church for 6:30
mass at St. Peters. The fathers never forgot those
beautiful flowers, so rare and special, that we'd gotten
knee-deep in the muck for them."
One protected area is in the Black Dog Prairie Scientific
and Natural Area and another is part of Fort Snelling
State Park. The remaining fens are under private
ownership, unprotected. Like high-ground prairies, fens
benefit from controlled burning; they need management
as well as protection. Efforts are being made to find a
government agency to buy and preserve these last
remnants of one of nature's most unique plant
communities. There is really nothing more beautiful than
the fens in the springtime, with the rare ladyslippers
blooming, spring peepers chirping, and meadowlarks
singing their cheerful song. It is an area teeming with
beauty and life. The biggest preservation victory came
recently when local residents blocked a proposal to destroy
a fen and replace it with rental storage units. The river
overflow lands are now mostly protected in the Minnesota
Valley National Wildlife Refuge, but much of the
Page 12 Over the Years
Cd5'
1"x9 `
h s
Don Spencer and Lood Hause
surrounding higher ground, valley bluffs, and sidehills, "take five" during a Nicols ice
including the old station site, are still privately owned. harvest in the 1930s.
Photograph courtesy of Violet
Though its halcyon days were during the teens and McCrank.
twenties, during the forties and fifties, "quaketown" was
still busily shipping many carloads of molding sand and
fish. A local contractor tried building a new home across
from the Spencer place on the unpredictable peat, but his
foundation sank right into the sponge before the first floor
even got built, so the project was abandoned. Several new
homes were built on "solid" ground on the bluff. The only
new building to be constructed at the railroad crossing was
the "new store," a grocery built in front of Eph Beaudette's
house in the early fifties. It went through a series of
owners, then was used for a nursery and landscape
business by Silas Palmer and his wife. Once a Justice of
the Peace for Eagan Township, Palmer was very bright,
but was as unusual as his first name. Friends Lou and
Geri Ahlbrecht, who lived in one of the new bluff homes,
remember Palmer flagging down speeding cars and
refusing to allow them to go through until they slowed
down to what he considered a safe speed. And Geri says
Silas, like many other Nicols residents, was extremely
independent and self-styled, an unusual fellow who fit the
unusual town perfectly. "He bought a beautiful
motorcycle with a sidecar one year, and promised me a ride
as soon as the temperature hit 60 degrees in the spring,"
Geri recalls. "He was out shining up the cycle one bright
April day and I said'It's 60 degrees, Silas,' and he replied,
`Not in the shade,' and put the cycle back in the garage."
When the Palmers retired to New Mexico, they leased the
building. In its last days, it was a discount carpet store.
Geri Ahlbrecht also recalls, "We used to have such fun
with Les and Olive Spencer. Several times when it was
snowing, we called them at midnight when their lights
were still on and invited them over to build a snowman.
Fall 1989 Page 13
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By 1964 the former Scott Store be- Imagine four adults in their sixties out there rolling huge
came known as The Hotel," hous-
ing railroad hoboes and migrant snowballs, slipping, sliding, and laughing til it hurt, and
workers. The foundation was sag- having the time of our lives! We lived at Nicols almost 20
gang and windows broken. Photo years, and they were wonderful, the best of our lives."
by Del Stelling of the Sun
Newspaper. The Nicols Station took over all of Mendota's shipping
when that depot was closed, even though Mendota had 20
times Nicols' population. However, the added volume
wasn't enough to save the once famous Nicols Depot from
closing, too.
By the late fifties, the town was losing its importance.
The days when whole trainloads of onions and potatoes
left the warehouse were long gone. Most growers either
switched to something else or got jobs in town and quit
farming altogether. The famous Nicols molding sand was
being replaced, rail passenger service was discontinued,
and trucks took over the shipping chores from the
freights. The McCrank place was the first building to go;
tall grasses and brush are the only residents now. The
warehouse burned one windy night in'58, victim of arson
or a carelessly tossed smoke. Just across the tracks, the
depot was badly singed by the fire, but volunteer
firefighters saved it. It was later torn down, and the
lumber was used to help build a new house at Lonsdale,
30 miles south.
Across the road, the white wooden general store grew
more and more dilapidated; harsh winter winds and
heavy snows made it lean, and the frame sagged on its
not-so-firm footings as the trains kept rumbling through.
Even these trains were different. The old black steam
locomotives were gone, replaced by shiny, new electric
diesels. In its last years, the store became home to
numerous railroad hoboes. Sometimes whole families of
migrant workers stayed there, so the neighbors called it
"The Hotel." The end finally came in 1964 when the fire
Page 14 Over the Years
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department burned it. The area's only new enterprise was . . _ . ,
Adelmann's big vegetable stand in one of the old gravel
pits, but this enterprise ended when the new highway
came through. Callan's Meadows Inn, in center of
Palmer's old nursery store and Eph Beaudette's house this survey photo, was flooded
survived until 1976 when the state highway department several times and to the roof line
in 1965. Photo shows Ceder Ave.
burned them. The last buildings to go were Callan's and bridge approach at bottom
Meadows Bar and the Spencer home in the late seventies. and left. Dakota County Historical
With the destruction of the Cedar Avenue Swing Bridge Society Collection.
over the river, the once busy road became a dead end.
Except for an occasional fisherman, and traffic to the
nearby power plant, things have gotten pretty quiet on the
old road. Of all the original commercial buildings, only the
Nicols Pavilion on the hillside survives. It still serve
liquids, but young lovers no longer drink rum-and-Cokes
and dance into the night there; now it's a plumbing store.
Nicols met the sad fate of most ghost towns in these parts.
Those who knew and loved Nicols would have preferred to
let "quaketown's" buildings slowly fade away, as they do
in the West. But, alas, there are safety factors, insurance
regulations, and thousands of young kids with their
tendency to explore and possibly get hurt.
The station-town succumbed not just to old age, the new
super highway, and crumbling foundations, but actually
to the railroad's lessening importance and the
urbanization of a former farm area. The fields that once
sprouted onions now sprout condos, three-wheelers, and
Buick Regals. It's not likely that anyone would want to live
down there in the bottoms anymore, because we've
changed, too. Folks today wouldn't accept the swarms of
bugs on hot summer nights, the noise and shaking of two
dozen daily trains, or someone like Eph Beaudette
dragging whole trees right down Main Street. Fifteen
adults and a dozen average-looking buildings had their
Fall 1989 Page 15
77,
a3e Amy, t Nd
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Photograph of the Nicols location
taken in the summer of 1987. moment in history. Together they formed the famous
Photograph courtesy of James
Wallin. molding sand and onion-shipping capital, supplier of live
fish, home of the rare perched fens, and a pretty darn nice
place to live.
Buckled concrete foundations, a few burned boards, and
an old stove rusting away are all that remain of the old
station today. A lone dead spruce, probably planted by
Silas Palmer, towers over a thicket of box elders and
cottonwoods. Deer again browse the sweet valley grasses
where the lively store once stood, and beavers have
constructed a new dam down the tracks a piece.
There's only one building at the crossing now, a huge
sewage lift-station, pumping five million gallons each day
to the ultra-modern Seneca treatment plant. (This is the
state's second largest treatment plant, so area residents
hope it isn't trying harder to become Number One.) It was
nearly lost to the spongy peat during construction, when
one corner began sinking dangerously.
So, the once famous molding sand and onion shipping
capital now reposes in a much humbler role. A lone
security light shines at the old crossing, and you can see it
down there in the brush as you drive by at night on the new
super highway. Sure, the bugs were bad, the whole town
shook from the trains' passage, and not everybody got along
perfectly, but the "quaketown" was a real-life Lake
Wobegon, a "little town that time forgot, and the decades
could not improve."
The town site has regained its former peacefulness, but
the magic that was Nicols can never come back. The magic
is in the memory.
Page 16 Over the Years
The Dakota County Historical Society
and Museum are located at 130 3rd
Avenue North, South St. Paul MN 55075
(612) 451-626
Staff:
Gary Phelps, Executive Director
Peggy Korsmo-Kennon, Collections/Education
Marialice Siirla, Secretary/Bookkeepper
Kathy Kuhns, Receptionist
Louise Gilmore, Receptionist
Liz Miller, Public Relations
Bill Wolston, Publications Editor
Officers:
Carlyle Mitchell, President
Roger Tonderum, Vice-President
Lois Glewwe, Treasurer
Ida Troye, Secretary
Tom Kaliszewski, Past-President
Trustees:
John Curry Tonette Jensen
Agnes Kobierowski Doug Rech
John Schwartz
Jeri Leonard, South St. Paul Chapter
Al Jarvis, Mendota/West St. Paul Chapter
Dakota County Board of Commissioners:
Donald Maher, Chairman
Joseph Harris Steve Loeding
Donald Chapdelaine Michael Turner
Membership Information:
The Society cordially invites all who are
interested in history to join the Society.
Members receive:
*Semi-annual magazine Over the Years.
• Quarterly issues of "Society Happenings."
• Invitations to programs, tours, and meetings.
•Discounts in the gift shop, on Society tours, and
on copies of archive reference material.
"Ilk
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Riverboat at Nicols Landing in 1936. Photo courtesy of Violet McCranh.
Non-Profit Organization
Dakota County Historical Society J.S. Postage
130 3rd Avenue North PAID
South St. Paul, MN 55075 South St. Paul, MN
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Forwarding and Return Postage
Guaranteed, Address Correction
Requested