The Gilbert Family

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings
Original Images:




Author: Janice Anscheutz

Out of mixed fortunes, a lasting legacy for Ypsilanti
Part I: The Gilbert Family

The Gilbert name is familiar to most Ypsilanti residents. Many of us can remember going to the beautiful Gilbert Park on Michigan Ave. at Park Street to enjoy the riverbank, to have a picnic, or to cheer on our children playing in Little League baseball games. We keep these images in mind, even as the park today has been overgrown with grass and trees and put on sale by the city as part of the Water Street parcel.

Other landmarks of the Gilbert presence are readily apparent to those who merely visit Ypsilanti, as well as to its citizens. Cars traveling north from the Huron St. exit of I-94 pass by the imposing and currently expanding Gilbert Residence, a senior residence and nursing home founded by the Gilbert family. Those taking a train through town, or walking through the beautiful historic east side, won’t fail to notice the Gilbert House on North Grove St., the former family home of John Gilbert, Jr. Today a stylish apartment house, the building remains a widely admired architectural showplace. For many male Ypsilanti residents, it is also the source of vibrant childhood memories. Few among them nearing the age of fifty will fail to recall fun-filled hours spent in this spacious structure when it served as a recreation center and later hosted a popular Boys Club.

In light of the renown of the Gilbert name in Ypsilanti, and the legacies by which it is remembered, you may have wondered, as I have, who the Gilberts were and what eventually became of them. I hope you’ll find this account of the Gilbert saga informative, and that it will do justice to the honor the Gilbert family is due for its contributions to the enrichment of our Ypsilanti community.

The rise and fall of Major John Gilbert
The Gilbert family history begins with the life of Major John Gilbert, a resourceful man who devoted his many assets of intelligence, energy, skills and money to improving the lot of his family and community. His efforts, however, produced very mixed results of successes and failures, making his life story at once amazing, exciting, and sad.

John Gilbert was born on March 16, 1774 in the town of Lenox, Massachusetts, near Pittsfield, Massachusetts. His mother was Debiah Sweeting, born in 1745, and his father Captain Job Gilbert. The parents had been married in Norton, Massachusetts in 1769 and raised two sons, John and Thomas.

Job Gilbert was well known for his military service in the Revolutionary War. And in the book “Michigan Pioneers and Historical Society Collections,” published in 1896, we learn that he also played a role in the earlier French and Indian War. The publication’s memorial report credits Captain Job Gilbert for his actions as part of “a small band of provincials which under the command of Washington, covered [General] Braddock in his defeat and led his broken column to a place of safety.” In this battle, which took place near Pittsburgh in 1755, British and British Colonial forces had been routed by a party of French and Indians, and General Braddock had been mortally wounded. The then Colonel George Washington had been forced to take over for Braddock and, with the help of Gilbert and others, lead the British retreat.

Captain Job Gilbert was a man of many talents. He was a surveyor, worked on large engineering projects, and was knowledgeable in the operation of iron ore furnaces and the construction of mills using water power. All of these skills he passed on to his son John, who applied them in major undertakings while still a young man. Those projects and Gilbert’s subsequent business ventures are reported in a well-researched online article written by Ray Berg, entitled “Major John Gilbert–The Founder of Manchester” [viz. Manchester, Mich.] We learn that, at the tender age of 18, John assisted his father in surveying and developing a large tract of land in the Rochester area of New York State. He also studied mill operations and civil engineering under his father. And when the Gilbert family settled in what is now Syracuse, New York in 1799, John helped design and build the Onondaga furnace, which was used in manufacturing equipment for the military.

While living in Syracuse, John Gilbert met Susan Ann Haskins (1784-1873), to whom he was married on May 4, 1803. Susan’s father was Captain William Haskins, a wealthy Revolutionary War veteran who had served in that war with Job Gilbert. The young couple eventually had six children: Lavina b. 1805, Harry Hegerman b. 1807, George Washington b. 1812, Emily Louise b. 1816, John Jr. b. 1820, and Susan Ann, b. 1823. It was in Syracuse that John’s career prospered. Applying his skills as a surveyor, land speculator and civil engineer, he soon accumulated considerable wealth.

John also worked with his brother Thomas at the burgeoning salt works in Salina, New York. And, after distinguishing himself as a cavalry quartermaster in the War of 1812, where he was awarded the commission of Major, he was hired by the governor of New York, along with his father Job, to perform both surveying and construction work on the new Erie Canal in the area of Syracuse, Rochester, and Lockport, New York. It was while bringing this massive project (1818-1823) to a successful completion that John met a man with the unusual name of Orange Risdon. John hired him as a surveyor, and also partnered with him in land-speculation activities that earned both men a considerable amount of money.

We learn more about the Gilbert/Risdon partnership in the online article by Ray Berg. In 1824 the United States Congress passed The General Survey Act of that year. The act mandated that the Army Corps of Engineers not only survey but undertake the improvement of a military road from Detroit to Chicago. For this project, Gilbert was hired as a surveyor and Risdon as the survey director. While discharging their nominal duties in the new territory, the two men also took advantage of their positions to purchase some of the best large tracts. Gilbert himself was able to scope out and file land patents on prime areas for the development of mills and towns. Between May 10, 1826 and October 1, 1835 he filed purchase claims on several of these sites, which included what are now the mill pond and downtown area of Manchester, Michigan.

Gilbert also invested in large holdings of land along the Chicago Road, now Michigan Avenue, including those later developed as downtown Ypsilanti and Pittsfield Township. Other land was purchased in Jackson, Hillsdale and Lenawee Counties. Gilbert was especially interested in land that held the potential for running a mill by water power, or that lay along the soon-to-be-improved road to Chicago. In the year 1830, however, both John Gilbert and Orange Risdon returned to New York State and their families.

Migration to Michigan and business success and failures
Though he was glad to be reunited with his family in New York, Gilbert remained excited about his prospects for land speculation and development in Michigan. Moreover, he, like Risdon, was a Mason, vulnerable in New York at the time to a rising wave of anti-Mason distrust and hostility. John quickly decided, therefore, to gather his large family together and pursue his fortunes for good in the new Michigan Territory. The trip proved a challenge for a family with six children ranging in age from seven to twenty-six, who had been used to living the good life in the settled urban center of Rochester, New York.

The family left New York in the winter, traveling with horses over snow-covered roads and crossing the Detroit River in a birch-bark canoe––the unharnessed horses being brought to Detroit later by ferry-boat. While the trip was difficult enough through snow and ice, one can well imagine how much more difficult it might have been in spring, when the roads would be deeply rutted and the wagon wheels prone to sinking in mud. After arriving in Detroit, the family is said to have stayed on a while at the Woodworth Hotel, before completing its journey and finally arriving in Ypsilanti in January, 1831.

A fellow surveyor of the time, C. E. Woodard, wrote a narrative describing Washtenaw County as it looked when he first saw it in the year 1833, around the time that the Gilbert family made Ypsilanti its permanent home. The narrative mentions the Gilbert farm and the Gilbert Park area:

“It was nearly unbroken wilderness. ‘Lo the poor Indian’ had nearly abandoned his happy hunting grounds in these parts and gone west. Except in the fall of the year when he took up his line of march along his well beaten trail towards Fort Malden, Ontario Canada to receive his annuity and return. He was seldom seen. At the time of the Black Hawk War the few scattered settlers were naturally alarmed at the apparent activity among the Indians. At times hundreds might be seen camped on the banks of the Huron near the East Public Square and on Gilbert farm. [NOTES: “East Public Square” was located on the south side of East Michigan at Park Street. This is where Gilbert planned the town square and where Gilbert Park was originally located. Gilbert Farm was located at West Michigan Avenue and Platt Road.] But I do not remember ever hearing anyone ever being molested by them or even trouble by their begging food for the land. Then it was alive with all kinds of wild game and plenty of meat could be had for the killing of it. They were better off than their white brothers being better hunters….

It was always understood that our most important highways--the Chicago Road and others followed the general lines of these main Indian trails, thus admitting the Indians’ skill in their part in Civil engineering, selecting the best ground on which to locate our Highways. The main trail going through Ypsilanti was more or less used as an Indian trail down to 1834 and their camp grounds plainly marked by the ashes of the camp and the then standing of the Poles of the Wigwams. On the Gilbert farm 4 miles west of town, and which became the big Harwood farm was one of these camps near where Mr. Woodard was then living.”

Not only did John Gilbert have a large farm on the Chicago Road near Ypsilanti, but he immediately started developing his other land investments in both Ypsilanti and Manchester. Like other Masons in the village of Ypsilanti, such as Walter Hewitt and Samuel Post, he quickly became instrumental in the planning of the town and was elected the first village president in 1832. Gilbert served in this position for two terms. By 1833 he joined other investors who pooled their money for a shipping boat that would carry goods between Detroit and Ypsilanti. This venture failed, however, and John’s money was lost.

Despite this setback, and while he was still the first village president of Ypsilanti, Gilbert undertook yet another project in 1833, using his surveying and land-development skills to plat out the village of Manchester on land that he owned. His original plans called for one grist mill and one saw mill, fourteen blocks (some of which he named), one store, one house, one barn, and a bridge--all of which were near the River Raisin. In naming the village Manchester, Gilbert probably had in mind the village of Manchester on the Erie Canal in New York State (itself named after Manchester, England) where he had worked as a civil engineer during the 1820s. In any case, he was soon able to sell his platted land in Manchester at a sizable profit.

John’s next venture was to invest $500 in a million-dollar scheme involving a number of investors to build a railroad line from Detroit to the mouth of the St. Joseph River. Surveys were completed, but the scheme fell through before any construction work on the line was started. In 1837, the state of Michigan purchased the surveyed land, as well as all rights for developing and building the railway. This reversal, however, did nothing to diminish John’s entrepreneurial ardor.

Before the first train on the completed line passed through Ypsilanti in 1838, he and his son John Jr. had developed facilities ready to make money from it. By 1835, Major Gilbert, with his partner and soon-to-be son-in-law, Abel Godard, had purchased and rebuilt a water mill and dam on Water Street at what is now Michigan Avenue. The mill, which was used to produce flour, was first called Harwood’s Flouring Mill, and later Huron Flouring Mill. Next to it was a large supply and feed store, run by John Jr. This operation proved profitable in providing goods and food stuffs for the building of the new rail line.

Harvey C. Colburn’s The Story of Ypsilanti, published in 1923, makes clear, however, that not all of Major Gilbert’s planning and development investments were profitable. Perhaps his biggest failure was his vision of a new luxury hotel that he believed would be welcomed by large numbers of weary travelers passing through Ypsilanti on the new rail line. In 1837, John started construction of a palatial four-story edifice at the corner of River Street and the Chicago Road (now Michigan Ave.). Unfortunately, Colburn tells us in his book, “The main part of this hotel fell in before it was quite completed.” When The Story of Ypsilanti was published in 1923, the kitchen of the hotel was still standing, while the opulent spaces and rooms in what Colburn had parodied as “Gilbert’s Temple of Folly” had long before been reduced to rubble.

A curious side note
Here, I might note as an interesting aside a still unsolved mystery that originated less than a mile from the ill-fated hotel at about the time it was being built. The mystery was discovered by John Gilbert’s oldest son Harry, who had become something of a celebrity in the area. Colburn tells us about it in his book:

“In 1835 Ypsilanti came into possession of a mystery which time has left unsolved. Isaac Kimball and Harry Gilbert were hauling earth from the edge of the bluff not far from the site of the present Beyer Hospital [now a nursing home on South Prospect near Michigan Avenue] for the filling of a lot nearby…. Unexpectedly the spades of the diggers struck a buried timber. Curiosity stimulated their labors. More timbers appeared, and planking. The uncovering and removal of one of these planks revealed a dark hole beneath. Into this, a light being procured, the intrepid explorers descended. They found themselves in a well-built subterranean room, ten feet square and eight feet high. Seeking the proper entrance to this room they discovered a burrow leading southerly for one hundred feet, into the ravine, its opening being effectually screened by bushes…. Further exploration of the hidden room revealed a furnace and half a metal shell containing grease in which a wick was floating. These exhibits being placed before the concourse of villagers resulted in much speculation but no tenable theory. No resident, even of the earliest comers, had known of the cave’s existence, or at least would confess to such knowledge. This being the case, it was reasoned that the cave must be referred to the Godfroy period. Perhaps in the days of the old Indian trading post, a gang of counterfeiters had made the place their rendezvous and burrowed out a workshop in the bluff-side. To be sure, this theory did not explain the need for elaborate secrecy in the wilderness nor did it explain how the cave could have remained hidden from Godfroy’s Indian visitors, who must have often passed that way. So the mystery remains.”

A final fall from riches to rags
In 1835, tax records indicated that Major John Gilbert was one of the wealthiest men in Ypsilanti. His first home had been a wooden structure at the corner of Michigan Avenue and River Street, but by 1835 he had moved his family into a brick home, which still stands at 302 North Grove Street.

Unfortunately, John’s fortune did not last long after this. A final business investment proved so imprudent that, in a single plummet, it brought him down from wealthy and powerful, to penniless. In this dealing, he invested not only all the money he had, but money obtained by mortgaging his extensive property holdings, including the mill. The assets were used to purchase shares in a bank started by his son-in-law Abel Godard, husband of his daughter Emily, and by Godard’s brother, Lewis Godard. This proved to be a major mistake.

In his 1985 book Obsolete Banknotes and Early Scrip of Michigan, Harold L. Bowen identifies Lewis Godard as “king of the bank wreckers.” Gilbert’s money was invested in the Monroe and Ypsilanti Railroad Co., of which Lewis Godard was president. “No road was ever built, but provided Mr. Godard with an ample supply of bills to be used in starting new banks,” writes Bowen. With an ironic twist, he offers as an example Godard’s start-up of the Bank of Coldwater: After having crisp new bills printed and with the signatures scarcely dry, “Lewis Godard walked out of the little one-story bank building into a village of wooden stores, wooden hotels and wooden residences. At the Central Exchange he boarded a westbound stage, for the generous purpose of ‘creating specie’.… As the Cashier truly said, ‘They broke the bank the first night.’”

By 1840 John Gilbert’s mortgages were called in and his dreams for wealth and prosperity were shattered. He lost control of the Huron Mills and most of his land holdings. Earlier, he had deeded a few pieces of land to his son John Jr.

At this point in his life, the handwriting was clearly on the wall for John Gilbert. This once ambitious, resourceful, brave, and skilled man, who did so much to develop what are now the city of Ypsilanti and village of Manchester, retired from business and political life. By 1850, as disclosed in the census of that year, he was living in his home on North Grove along with his wife, his daughter Emily, Emily’s daughter, and several others. There is no mention in the census of Emily’s husband, Abel Godard, who seems to have left Ypsilanti along with the Gilbert fortune.

The poignant letter copied below, written in 1849 by Major Gilbert’s son George Washington Gilbert to his brother John Gilbert Jr., gives us a sense of just how far the Gilbert family had fallen. In it, George pleads with his brother to help him find a job in order to support his parents, his sister Emily, and Emily’s daughter. George himself was married to an Ypsilanti grocer’s daughter, Maria Ann King. Here is his letter:

Ypsilanti, March 10, 1849
Dear Brother
We have had a very sudden death in our family. Mr. King died yesterday at 12 o’clock as we were walking up from his store to his house, on arriving at Grants corner he was attacked with a fit of coughing and ruptured a blood vessel. He died in about three minutes, there was none of his family present but myself until after his death, it was a sudden and very unexpected blow to his family, the funeral will be attended at 2 o’clock p.m. tomorrow. (Sunday)

If you have an opportunity to help me to a situation on the Rail Road by applying to Mr. Brooks or Mr. McCurd you will be doing me a great kindness as well as assisting our Father & Mother being out of employment at this time and our Father & Mother looking to us for support & Emily and her daughter for assistance it has used up all of my available means. I have nothing to look to nor means to assist them with unless I can get into some employment such as I have stated. If they should wish to employ any more assistants I should ask for references as to qualifications you may refer them to B. Follett, C. Joslin or any of the business men of this place or Ann Arbor.
Yours Truly, Geo. W. Gilbert”

Reduced to near poverty, Major John Gilbert and his wife Susan were still living in their home on North Grove St. when he died on January 19, 1860, after years of poor health. John’s death came just a year before his heart could be gladdened by the revival of the family fortunes achieved by his namesake son, John Jr. That revival remains embodied in the elegant mansard-roofed mansion and park-like grounds of the Gilbert House, which was completed in 1861 and continues to glorify the east-side neighborhood across the street from Major Gilbert’s modest final residence. Susan Gilbert died thirteen years after John in the home of her son George Washington Gilbert in Detroit, and she and her husband now rest together at Highland Cemetery.

[Janice Anscheutz’s story of the Gilbert Family’s rise from ruin to renewed riches will be told in the next issue of the GLEANINGS, when we take up the life of Major Gilbert’s son, John Jr. Anscheutz is a regular contributor to the Society’s GLEANINGS publication.]


Photo captions:

1. Gilbert Mansion (no caption)

2. Mill: The Huron Flouring Mill looking south from Congress Street/Michigan Avenue.

3. 302 North Grove Street

4. The Gilbert Family plot at Highland Cemetery

5. Bird’s eye view: From an 1890 panorama view looking north-east: Congress Street is now Michigan Avenue and that’s Riverside Park in the upper left corner, so this is basically the site of today’s still-waiting-to-be-developed Water Street project. The four-story building on the east bank of the Huron River (#45) was the mill owned by John Gilbert at one time.

Donald H. Porter: Craftsman and Artist

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings
Original Images:


Author: Peg Porter

Publicly he was a school administrator, active in many community organizations (Lions, March of Dimes, Meals on Wheels, Congregational Church), husband of Ruth and father of Margaret, Don Jr. and Jane. Privately he loved to work with wood. He built at least three boats, a summer cottage, and a home addition. But he liked to build smaller objects as well. His woodshop was particularly busy as the holidays drew near. His Christmas outdoor decorations won the local holiday lighting contest at least five years in a row when he finally asked not to be part of the judging.

He built cradles for his granddaughters, toy chests and trains for his grandsons. Other children and adults were also given a Porter original. Many of his items were made from scraps of wood left over from larger projects. He particularly liked hard woods although many of the toys were made with pine. He decorated much of what he built. Garlands of flowers, hearts, and birds adorned his creations. Sometimes the paintings told a story; he used names in his paintings to honor the receiver.

Several of his creations were on display as part of the Museum’s holiday decorations. He loved Christmas, loved making decorations and creating gifts. He did not consider himself a craftsman or an artist. And yet, he was.

The following is an outgrowth of the holiday display. A number of people asked for an article about my father focusing on his art. This was not an easy assignment because, in large part, he rarely spoke about himself. In addition, he was a humble man and did not believe he was especially talented. Others thought differently. Fortunately, some of his work has survived.

Donald Porter never talked much about how he learned his craft. It was as if he always knew. The Porters of Colonial Massachusetts and later Nova Scotia, Canada, had numerous builders, particularly ship builders, painters, weavers and others who produced useful or beautiful items. Donald’s grandfather, Titus H. Porter, was a builder who worked both in Nova Scotia and in coastal Massachusetts. According to one family source, he built homes, public buildings and, of course, boats. The latter included everything from fishing boats to racing yachts. The Porters were cousins to the Crosbys, well-known boat and yacht builders (The Crosbys also produced one famous entertainer, Harry or “Bing”, but that is another story).

It is not surprising that one of Don’s first projects was a speed boat built from a kit and christened the Mickey Mouse. He went on to build a rowboat, the Mimi, and a cabin cruiser, Mimi II. The cruiser was modeled after the Crosby cruisers, which I knew, but had no idea of its significance until I began researching the Porter family.

When the family home was built on Owendale in the early 1940s, Don created a workshop in the basement. The workbench had small drawers on three sides. These held nails, screws, bolts, all carefully organized. The workshop was a prime example of his skill in utilizing space. No longer just a builder he was now a designer as well. Several of his design projects were featured in Better Homes and Gardens.

In the mid 1940s, Don built the Porter cottage on Base (a.k.a. Baseline) Lake. The Davis family gave Ruth and Don the two lots as a wedding present. Mother had lived with Spen and Hazel Davis while she attended the Normal and helped take care of their four children. On the north shore, the property had views of “Peach Mountain” and the hills on the opposite side. My parents designed an H-shaped structure with the kitchen, living room and porch and master bedroom all with a lake view. The focal point of the main living space was a field stone fireplace. The cottage had four bedrooms (one was very small) and a bathroom. Don did most of the construction with the help of a group of friends. The finished kitchen featured a bay window with a custom made table. On the sides of the table he painted the names of all who had helped in his usual decorative style with garlands and hearts. As a child I used to study the names and as a result I “knew” some of Ypsilanti’s most prominent citizens.

The upper kitchen cabinet doors were painted to tell the story of building the cottage. Unfortunately, holes for hinges were drilled on the wrong side of one the doors leaving the story out of sequence. That was one of the few “goofs” I remember. We left them that way. The mistake proved to be a good conversation starter and also a test of visitors’ power of observation.

While the structure was impressive, it was by no means fancy. We had only cold running water for a number of years. Water had to be heated for dishwashing. Baths were taken in the lake. Mother refused to allow a phone for a long time although she eventually relented for emergencies. No TV was allowed either. We learned to make our own entertainment.

The next big building project occurred in the early 1950s. A large two story addition at the back of the house nearly doubled its size. This, like other projects, was done in my Dad’s “free time.” His job with the Ypsilanti Public Schools was demanding and time consuming. We got used to things being torn up although we still didn’t like it. A mother robin had constructed a very nice nest while building was underway. As a result the back wall was not erected until the birds had hatched and were on their way. The Ypsilanti Press published a feature story on our feathered visitors.

Our backyard held, at various times, items our Dad made for his three children. I, the oldest, had a swing set although this was not a typical swing set by any means. A pipe was attached to two tall trees. Attached by chains were a swing, a trapeze, and a set of rings. He was ahead of his time in “re-purposeing” items; the trapeze was a smaller pipe and the rings were metal as well. Since I seemed to prefer looking at the world upside down, I spent most of my time hanging from the trapeze or the rings. My brother had a fort-jungle gym, a two level wooden structure that had a slide and a fireman’s pole. Our sister, Jane, had Lilac Cottage, a small painted playhouse with aqua trim. For a number of years, our backyard often resembled a neighborhood playground.

As we were growing up, Dad was very busy overseeing the construction of at least six new school buildings as well as his usual responsibilities of budget, finance, transportation and maintenance, and executive secretary to the Board of Education. When he retired, I am told, three people were hired to fill his “position.”

With the arrival of grandchildren, he returned to his workshop where he created doll cradles, toy boxes, and toy trains. Each one of the items was personalized with the child’s name and most had his unique decorative painting. His “circus train” was displayed at the Ypsilanti Historical Museum during the 2012 holidays. The animals ride in different cars; the giraffes, for example, have an open car letting them look out and survey the passing scene. A doll house shows the same level of detail with each of the rooms individually decorated. It is these smaller items that best exhibit his artistry and craftsmanship. He created a short publication called “Making Toys from Scrap Materials.” Had he access to today’s technology his ideas would likely have reached a larger audience.

As he grew older, he did more carving focusing on shapes in hard woods. His creations became more abstract but also more beautiful. His love and appreciation of wood was clearly apparent.

Our mother, Ruth Porter, certainly appreciated her husband’s talent. There were a few times, however, when she wished he would take up golf or fishing. One day Mother and I returned from a shopping trip to Ann Arbor to find the kitchen cupboards being demolished. “Don, what are you doing?” Mother exclaimed. Dad responded that she had told him many times that she wanted different cabinets. “I didn’t mean right this minute. We have company coming!”

I have a brother-in-law who did not know our father but hears about him often. Mike once remarked, “Are you sure he did everything you say he did?” Janie and I answered, “Oh yes, he did everything. You just had to know our Dad.”

[Peg Porter is the Assistant Editor of the GLEANINGS and regularly contributes articles about growing up in Ypsilanti.]


Photo captions:

1. Don Porter served as an administrator in the Ypsilanti Public Schools

2. Don Porter’s “circus train” had animals riding in the cars with the giraffes’, for example, having an open car letting them look out and survey the passing scene

3. One of the doll cradles designed and built by Don Porter

4. The cottage on Base Lake built by Don Porter was an H-shaped structure with the kitchen, living room, porch and master bedroom all having a lake view

5. Several of Don’s designs that were created in his workshop in the family home on Owendale were featured in Better Homes and Gardens

6. The Porters and their cousins, the Crosby’s, were boat builders. The boat is the Crosby Cruiser.

7. Don built this rowboat called the “Mimi 1”

Jean-Baptiste Sanscrainte’s Story

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings
Original Images:

Author: Michael E. Van Wasshnova

The search for our first European settler continues

In the summer and fall issues of the Ypsilanti Historical Society’s newsletter, the GLEANINGS, Tom Dodd wrote two satirical stories concerning a French-Canadian man with the surname of Sans Crainte. (Have no fear! J.B. Sanscrainte was here, GLEANINGS, Fall 2012 and Our French Connection memory bank is still growing, GLEANINGS, Winter 2012.)

I, being not only a member of the Ypsilanti Historical Society, but also a member of the French-Canadian Heritage Society of Michigan, the Genealogical Society of Monroe County and Descendants of Early Frenchtown, already knew of this family. As a matter of fact, the Sancrainte family is a collateral part of my family tree. Not only that, but on the voyage that was mentioned in the Hugh Heward Journal that Mr. Dodd sourced, a member of my French-Canadian family was a participant. That man was Joseph Lamirande, my third great grand father who was hired to transport material across country by canoe and portaging. So this had become a personal story as well.

One problem when using the Heward Journal, is Mr. Dodd’s assumption that Jean-Baptiste Sancrainte’s site was located in or near what is now Ypsilanti. In reading the journal no definite land mark of any kind is mentioned. All that is written is the date, 1 April 1790, the type of trees and that Mr. Sancrainte was along the Huron River.

The Jean-Baptiste Sancrainte who was mentioned in the Hugh Heward record was not the first Jean-Baptiste Romain dit Sancrainte in North America. He was born in Montreal, Quebec, not France. He was actually a second generation French-Canadian and the third in line with the name Jean-Baptiste.

We must explain here that the word dit is the French word for also known as (aka) in English. This was a purely French-Canadian custom. There were various reasons for this practice, which we will not go into at this time.

From our research the Romain dit Sans Crainte family came from the parish of St. Martial in Angouleme, France. The first Jean-Baptiste of that surname to arrive in North America was born there in about 1696. He married in Montreal, Quebec on 30 June 1722. The subject of our story was the grandson of that union. Jean-Baptiste the III, as we will call him, was born in Montreal in the year 1754. He married Margaret Solo in Detroit on 13 October 1778. They were the parents of eight children.

Jean-Baptiste III lived a very full and adventurous life, judging by the records we have uncovered in our research. He was a family man, trader, Indian interpreter for both the Americans and the British and was involved in many of the historical events that we learned of in our American history classes. The story of this man could fill a book, but that must wait for someone else to write.

So to keep this story short I will attempt to inform you of the real facts of Jean-Baptiste Romain dit Sancrainte.

Jean-Baptiste III began his adventurous life while a very young man. His father, Jean-Baptiste II, brought him along while seeking places to establish missions. The father somehow had connections with the Jesuits and was involved with the founding of missions at Black Rock, Fort Meigs, Maumee, Huron (which is now Windsor) and St. Lawrence (now Toledo). While along on these travels the younger Jean-Baptiste became acquainted with members of the area’s many native tribes and began his career as an interpreter and trader. He learned the customs and the native way of life which served him throughout his long life.

A year after his marriage to Margaret Solo (also spelled Soleau) on 13 October 1778, Jean-Baptiste III negotiated a deal with several tribes in the Detroit River region to purchase thousands of acres of land along the River Raisin, known to the French as Riviere aux Raisins, which is now the city of Monroe.

In August of 1794 Jean-Baptiste III was involved in the Battle of Fallen Timbers along with at least four other French-Canadians from the Detroit and River Raisin region. They fought for the British, who at the time ruled the region, and the Indian allies of the British. General Anthony Wayne’s Northwestern American Army defeated the British allies. After that battle the Indians had little desire to fight for the British as they had received no help from them.

Along with several other French-Canadians from the region, Jean-Baptiste was recruited by General Wayne to bring in many chiefs from the various tribes to sign the Treaty of Greenville.

Also in the records that have been located, Jean-Baptiste and members of his family were involved in the Battle of the Raisin. Some records have him on the side of the British, some with the Americans. We do know that at least three of his four sons, one named Jean-Baptiste, fought with the Kentuckians and had property destroyed during the battle.

Jean-Baptiste III died in 1838 at the age of 84 while out hunting for horses.

(Michael E. Van Wasshnova is a member of the Monroe County Historical Society and a regular visitor to the YHS Archives.)


Photo captions:

1. French traders meeting with Native Americans at a peltry

Peter B. Fletcher

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Winter 2012,
Winter 2012
Original Images:

Author: Alvin Rudisill

The Ypsilanti Historical Society lost a great friend and benefactor with the passing of Peter Bacon Fletcher on September 29, 2012. Peter served as the President of the Society from 1990 to 1992 and was currently providing leadership as a member of the YHS Endowment Fund Advisory Board.

Fletcher was born at Beyer Hospital in Ypsilanti on February 29, 1932. Although he was 80 years old at the time of his death, he was only able to celebrate 20 birthdays because February 29th appears on our calendars every four years. Peter always had fun explaining this phenomenon and told people to “conserve your pity and bestow it upon those who truly need it when you consider the circumstances of those of us born on February 29th.”

Peter was educated in the Ypsilanti Public Schools, maintained an all “A” average, and was valedictorian of his class. In high school he received an American Legion Citizenship Award and a Certificate of Merit from the Michigan High School Forensic Association. Following high school he was awarded a Regents’ Scholarship at the University of Michigan and majored in Political Science. He earned academic honors all four years and was elected to Phi Beta Kappa, Phi Kappa Phi and Pi Sigma Alpha. He graduated in 1954 and for two years was employed by the Frigidaire Division of General Motors in Detroit and Dayton, Ohio.

In 1957 he returned to Ypsilanti and joined the staff of the Ypsilanti Credit Bureau that was founded by his father, Foster Fletcher, in 1924. Peter took over the ownership of the Bureau in 1969.

Over the years Peter has held numerous political offices within Michigan and in the Republican Party. In 1975 he was named National GOP Committee Member and in 1976 he served as Gerald Ford’s Michigan Campaign Manager during the presidential campaign.

In 1972 Fletcher was appointed Chairman of the Michigan State Highway Commission. In this position he controlled a budget of $5 billion and a work force of 4,300. Although he is well known for his many statewide contributions in this position, he will always be remembered for putting the fictitious towns of “Beat OSU” and “GoBlu” on the official highway map for the State of Michigan.

Some of the many other positions held by Fletcher include: Trustee on the Board of Michigan State University, Ypsilanti Representative on the People’s Community Hospital Board, Treasurer and Board member of the Ypsilanti Players, Director of the Chamber of Commerce, Chair of the Chamber Citizens Advisory Committee on Urban Renewal, Director of the Rotary Club of Ypsilanti, Chair of the Ypsilanti Area Washtenaw County Cancer Crusade, Director of the Ypsilanti Community Chest, Director of the National Bank of Ann Arbor, Board Chairman for the First Methodist Church, Chair of the Washtenaw County Republican Committee, and many others too numerous to mention.

Fletcher launched the “Fletcher Forum,” a group that now meets each Saturday morning at the VFW Hall on Michigan Avenue. The event draws city and county officials, attorneys, activists and others interested in local, state and national politics. The discussions are spirited but attendees walk out smiling and often meet after the sessions for breakfast.

In 1995, Peter discussed with Jack Miller the history of some of the vehicles and dealership records that were part of Miller’s Hudson dealership. Peter told Jack, “We have to save this history!” Peter then talked to his longtime friend Paul W. Skip Ungrodt about starting an auto museum. In a matter of days, Peter, Skip and Jack met at the Sidetrack for lunch and shortly after a museum telling the automotive history of Ypsilanti was born. The next day, Peter told Jack to obtain the best price on the building next to the Hudson dealership and bind the deal with no more than $500. In less than a week, the building at 112 E. Cross Street along with the Hudson dealership building would become the Ypsilanti Automotive Museum.

The Museum opened to the public at the 1995 Heritage Festival and featured Peter’s 1972 Rolls Royce, 1976 Cadillac, and 1979 Lincoln (1710 actual miles). Skip contributed his 1980 Avanti II and Jack added several of his Hudson automobiles. Peter often said “People do not realize America’s love affair with automobiles.” He was the founding chairman of the museum’s non-profit board and provided leadership until he passed away.

Peter’s father, Foster Fletcher, helped found the Ypsilanti Historical Society in 1960 and served as the City Historian from 1963 to 1985. Foster Fletcher’s hard work at collecting, cataloging and preserving historical information and artifacts laid the foundation for the YHS Museum and Archives. The Fletcher/White Archives is named in his honor as a recognition of those efforts.

Peter Fletcher was an avid reader and historical buff and impressed all those who knew him with his gift of language and oratorical skills. He will be missed by all those who had the pleasure and privilege of knowing him


Photo Caption

1. The YHS lost a great friend and benefactor with the passing of Peter Bacon Fletcher

Have NO FEAR; J.B. Sanscrainte was here!

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Fall 2012,
Fall 2012
Original Images:


Author: Tom Dodd

[Some mid-westerners say “Sans-cur-aint.” The French say “Zon-cray-ont.”]

The older we get, the more difficult it is to learn new things. Until the Fall 2009 publication of GLEANINGS, most readers were content in their understanding that Gabriel Godfroy was the first European to settle what is now Ypsilanti. All that has changed as we adjust to the fact that the French held forth here from the time of LaSalle’s crossing in the 1600s. Local Scout troops are sure his party camped in Riverside Park before he left the Huron River at Belleville to go overland toward Lake Erie, but there’s no evidence to support that. Delta County Topologist Jim Woodruff, 90, has documented LaSalle’s crossing in his “Topologist’s Blog” for all to examine. Woodruff may even be related to Benjamin Woodruff, another of our “founders,” but others can trace our settlement’s origin back even further.

When Karl Williams was a student in EMU’s Historic Preservation Program, he noted in the Fall 2009 GEANINGS, “As indicated in Hugh Heward’s 1790 journal, Gabriel Godfroy was both aware and involved with the trading post established by Jean Baptiste Sanscrainte at Ypsilanti as early as 1790…”

Since that revelation, local Francophiles have been brushing up on their high school foreign language skills to further document the Sanscrainte claim. Was Sanscrainte his actual name, or was the word a description of his character? There are still French descendants around with the same last name, but the literal interpretation of that appellation gives rise to still more fascinating contemplation.

We are surrounded by last names that once denoted skills, crafts, or professions, but few carry over into today’s reality. Carpenter, Miller, Mauer, Cooper, Wheeler, and many others have ventured far beyond the crafts of their ancestors. Still, it is a tasty exercise to examine how Ypsilanti’s first European entrepreneur may have fit the description: Sans crainte, in the French language is “be without fear,” an apt greeting for anyone venturing into the unexplored wilderness of 1790.

Was Jean Baptiste Sanscrainte truly fearless?

From the French: Sans crainte = do not fear. Literally, be without fear. Jean Baptiste Sanscrainte must have been fearless to venture into the swamps of this peninsula in the 18th century and he could well have shared this optimism with others to goad them to find their way to his establishment.

Sanscrainte’s literal encouragement has spread to the rear window of today’s pick-up trucks with their over-sized wheels and jacked-up axles:

Sanscrainte’s decals cover the sides of speeding NASCAR racecars at the Michigan International Speedway in the Irish Hills:

The SoBe soft drink company has picked up the “don’t be afraid” theme for an energy drink described in a recent review thusly: “Imagine a glass of orange soda, with some grape drink. Now, add in some salt water, urine, and Canadian bacon, and you’ve pretty much got what No Fear tastes like.” Don’t be afraid; drink up!

Sanscrainte’s motto is plastered on the back of leather motorcycle jackets and can be found in chromed, drop-shadowed graphics encircling a human skull perhaps to encourage riders to abandon their helmets and conform to the recently liberalized state law permitting motorcyclists to expose their skulls to the raw pavement of the Interstate.

Steve Thomason, who sells himself much in the manner we might ascribe to J.B. Sanscrainte, as “husband, father, son, brother, friend, pastor, teacher, artist, writer, sinner, saint, and child of God,” leads his church youth group with a spin-off of the original:

Consider, then, the possibility of quotes pulled from an imaginary interview with Jean Baptiste Sanscrainte, proprietor of a peltry and trading post at the juncture of Native trails crossing the Huron River at that time:

A post mortem interview with Jean Bapstiste Sanscrainte, the first-known European settler in what would later become Ypsilanti

• Did you enjoy a good season collecting beaver pelts for the king and his court? It seems everyone at Versailles is wearing beaver hats. Business must be good.
Selon moi, on peut affirmer sans crainte que nos propres attentes ont également été dépassées. [In my view, we can be reassured that our own expectations have also been exceeded.]

• Do you make a good living bartering for pelts with the natives?
Aujourd’ hui, nous pouvons affirmer sans crainte que nous avons trouvé notre place en Europe. [However, it also important to focus on a distribution of income that is just and equitable.]

• How well does a French trader get along with the indigenous people?
Nous parions sur la paix, qui consiste à s'exprimer librement, tranquillement et sans crainte. [We choose peace, which is simply to be able to express oneself freely, calmly and without fear.]

• Can travelers count on good quality food and drink offered at your trading post?
On nous dit surtout: " Croquez, buvez, avalez sans crainte, il y a une étiquette qui nous protège ". [We are told above all to 'eat and drink without fear, you are protected by the label'.]

• How well do the French, English and Indians get along these days?
N'oublions cependant jamais que vivre en paix sans crainte d'être persécuté constitue le droit fondamental. [Let us never forget that the fundamental right is to live in peace without fear of persecution.]

• What about sending our children into the Great Northwest? Will they be safe?
Il faut que les parents puissent sans crainte laisser leurs enfants et adolescents voyager sur ces ferries. [Parents must feel safe in allowing their children to travel on these ferries.]

• What plans might you have for observing the New Year (1800)?
Je veux garantir à mes électeurs qu'ils pourront profiter librement du passage à l'an 2000 sans crainte du lendemain. [I wish to ensure that my constituents are free to enjoy the millennium without fearing the morning after.]

• How secure was the transer of your property to Gabriel Godfroy?
Personnellement, j'ai toujours été d'avis que vous agissiez, dans le cadre de ces controverses, sans crainte ni parti pris. [For my part I have always believed that you act in those controversies without fear or favour.]

• Have you any second thoughts about your place in history and the stories that might be told about you in future issues of GLEANINGS?
Nous pouvons donc, sans crainte, permettre la poursuite de la recherche, source de progrès, en mettant des balises pour éviter tout abus. [We need have no fears concerning research, which is a source of progress, as long as there are clear markers to prevent abuse.]

Merci, Monsieur Sanscrainte.

Noticing how cleverly M. Sanscrainte has worked his name/motto into every reply, we can reasonably assume that he was immensely successful in his peltry business and made a handsome profit when he sold it to late-comer Gabriel Godfroy and his subsequent heirs by the same name.


Photo credits:

1. Headline photo

2. Pick-up truck logo

3. NASCAR logo

4. SoBe soft drink can

5. Motorcycle chromed “No Fear”

6. Steve Thomason’s “Know Fear”

Craig Porter, Freestyle Champion

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Fall 2012,
Fall 2012
Original Images:



Author: Peg Porter

Several months ago I found a message in my voice mailbox from Lauren at the Ypsilanti Historical Society. She told me she had received a call from a Scott Porter who thought I might be his cousin. She asked for his telephone number so she could forward it to me. I had not been in contact with my Porter cousin for over 30 years and was anxious to talk to him. I knew that his sister, Mary Ruth, had died tragically as a result of early-onset Alzheimer’s less than five years ago. I called Scott that same afternoon. Scott had “found me” through computer searches. He had read some of my Gleanings articles which convinced him that I was, indeed, his cousin. He then found the YHS website and telephone number. A number of phone calls and email exchanges followed. We shared family stories and I provided additional information on the Porter family tree.

We talked about the Johnny Weissmuller story contained in the article that follows and his dad’s experience as a State Champion swimmer. We were both interested in trying to document the story we knew and began to assemble what information we had. Scott shared photographs and we both did considerable research. The story that follow is the result of our collaboration. It is dedicated to the memory of Craig Porter and his daughter, Mary Ruth.

His high school nickname was “Fish.” He was tall, with long arms and legs, broad shoulders and slim hips: the ideal body type for swimming. He was the second son of Evelyn Havelock Porter and Ellen Craig Porter, both immigrants to the United States from Canada. Craig Porter was born in Webster Township in 1912 while his father was herdsman at the Brookside Dairy.

When Craig was still quite young, the family moved to Ypsilanti where they opened a small restaurant in their home at the corner of Brower Street (now College Place) and Washtenaw Avenue, just a few blocks from the campus of the Michigan Normal. Craig attended the Laboratory School. When the new Roosevelt High School opened in the fall of 1925, both Craig and his older brother Don enrolled. At the time of its opening, Roosevelt was a state-of-the art high school. The ground floor had a swimming pool, shower room and locker rooms.

By the time Craig began high school he was already a swimmer. There were few pools, no community pools and, unless your family had a lake cottage, your opportunities to swim were very limited. So where and how did Craig Porter develop the skills that would make him a State Champion swimmer in a few short years? Perhaps he attended Camp Hayo-Want-Ha, a YMCA camp on Torch Lake. Don, his brother, spent several summers at the camp. It’s also possible that Laboratory School students had access to the college pool, a few short blocks from his home. Finally the Porter brothers had friends whose families had cottages, on Portage or Base Lake.

Although he expressed interest in both baseball and track as a high school freshman, he joined the Roosevelt Swim Team. His first meet took place March 2, 1927 against River Rouge. Three days later he participated in the Inter-Scholastic meet at the University of Michigan. Craig was rewarded with his first varsity letter that year, the only freshman class member to receive one.

He swam freestyle 40, 50 and 100 yard events as well as the 240 yard relay. He set school records, only to break his own records. In March of 1929, Craig led the Roosevelt swimmers to a Class B State Championship, winning first in the 50 and 100 yard freestyle as well as swimming to a first place on the 240 yard relay. In 1930, the Roosevelt team finished fourth, winning four meets and losing only two. The two they lost were to class A schools. The Rough Rider, Roosevelt’s school newspaper, described him as “Roosevelt’s freestyle artist.”

In his senior year the Rough Rider paid tribute to its champion swimmer. “…Craig Porter, an athlete who has forgone the pleasure of playing football, basketball or baseball that he might excel in a sport he likes best and so to add another laurel to the fame of Roosevelt High School.” He was also recognized for his leadership as Captain of the swim team for three years.

In the spring of 1930, a tennis team was organized at Roosevelt. The team’s coach was faculty member, Leonard Menzi. Menzi would later become the school’s principal, serving in that capacity for nearly 30 years. Craig showed up for the first team practice. Although he was only able to play tennis for several months before his graduation, he was awarded a varsity letter in that sport.

While Craig Porter was attending high school and developing his skills as a competitive swimmer, Johnny Weissmuller was on his way to becoming one of the country’s most well known swimmers and later the movie’s second Tarzan. Weissmuller was born in 1904 in Romania. His birthplace would later create some controversy when he was named to the U.S. Olympic Team in 1924. While still a child, he swam regularly in Lake Michigan. As a teenager he began swimming with the Illinois Athletic Club. Later he would win three gold medals in freestyle events at the 1924 Games and two more gold medals in the 1928 games.

In addition, he played on the U.S. Water Polo teams in both 1924 and 1928. The teams earned a bronze medal at the Paris and Amsterdam games. Weissmuller parlayed his success in the Olympics into first a modeling career and then an acting career. He played Tarzan in 12 movies to become the best known of the screen Tarzans.

There is a story that is well known to members of the Porter family. Friends and classmates of Craig Porter knew the story as well. The story is simply this: Craig Porter once raced Johnny Weissmuller and Porter won. How could this have happened? Weissmuller was nearly ten years older than Porter, an Olympian and world record holder. How could a teenager, from a small high school in Michigan, beat the man who would become Tarzan and who frequently boasted that he never lost a race?

Craig Porter, unlike Weissmuller, was not a bragger or boaster. To the contrary, he was quiet and never talked about himself. If you had questioned Craig about whether the story was true, he would nod his head “yes” but would not go on to say when or where. There are at least two times when such a race could have occurred. While still in high school, Craig was a member of the Seagulls, the swim team of the Detroit Yacht Club. We do not know how he was recruited for this team nor how he made regular trips to Detroit to practice and race. Swimming with the Seagulls did provide him with more professional coaching and a higher level of competition. The competition included members of the 1928 U.S. Olympic swim team who trained at the Club. Could Porter have beat Weissmuller in practice?

There is at least one other time when the two swimmers paths may have crossed. Weissmuller returned to Michigan in the summer of 1930 with his water show. He was a star attraction at the Eastern Michigan Water Carnival in Bay City. Weissmuller’s show toured the country and attracted large audiences who wanted to see the man who won five gold medals in the Olympic Games. Often Weissmuller would challenge the best local swimmers to a race. Was there such a race in Bay City or elsewhere in Michigan? Did, in fact, Craig Porter beat Weissmuller. Did the Weissmuller publicists spread the word that Weissmuller was tired from traveling and therefore it wasn’t a valid race?

The search for documentation of the Weissmuller-Porter race continues. The author and other family members believe the story is true. Should any Gleanings readers have information to share, please contact Peg Porter at the Ypsilanti Historical Society. Perhaps the more interesting question is: could Craig Porter have been a member of the United States Olympic Team in 1932?

His times in the freestyle kept dropping through his senior year in high school (1930). The major barrier to achieving Olympic status was money. At the time of Craig’s high school graduation, the country was plunging into what we now call The Great Depression. Money was always tight around the Porter household. Now with fewer people having money to spend on a restaurant meal, money became even more of an issue. Craig’s parents were able to provide their two sons with the basic necessities, primarily food and shelter. The boys were expected to work to earn money for any “extras.” Don worked steadily from his early teens primarily with Lamb’s grocery. He did not participate in high school athletics by choice. He wanted his own car (a convertible), a speed boat and an occasional trip. He was able to earn enough to get them.
Craig, on the other hand, devoted his time and energy to swimming. The University of Michigan offered Craig a tuition award if he were to agree to attend college and join the swimming team. This was not a “full-ride” by any means. He would need to pay for books, fees and transportation. The resources were not there. He would have to work (if he could find a job) to pay for all other expenses.

Swimming is a demanding sport. It requires focus, discipline and many, many hours in the pool. To add a full class schedule, plus a job would be daunting. Had he been able to swim for Michigan and assuming he had remained healthy, he likely would have made it to the Olympic swim trials and perhaps made the U.S. Team. That was not to happen. Instead he alternated work with school and received a degree at Michigan State Normal College (now Eastern) in 1938. He met and later married another student, Doris Schroeder, in 1940. They would have a daughter and son, Mary Ruth and Scott. Craig would spend his working days in a lumber yard, retiring early because of chronic health problems. He died on Christmas Day, 1976.

The focus of this story is not lost opportunities, but to recognize one of Ypsilanti’s outstanding athletes or as the Roosevelt Rough Rider summed up his years in high school “…he is one of the greatest swimmers ever produced at Roosevelt.” That remained true until the Roosevelt High School closed in 1969.

(Peg Porter is the Assistant Editor of the Gleanings and regular contributor of articles.)


Photo Captions:

Photo 1: Craig Porter, Ypsilanti Roosevelt’s outstanding swimmer

Photo 2: Roosevelt’s 1930 Swim Team finished fourth in the State Meet

Photo 3: Detroit Yacht Club Seagulls patch worn by Craig

Photo 4: Swan dive at the Detroit Yacht Club – check that wingspan

Photo 5: Porter Women: left in front row - Craig’s mother Ellen Craig Porter; second from right in front row – sister in law Ruth Young Porter; far right in top row – Craig’s wife Doris Shroeder Porter

Photo 6: Porter brothers at family home – Don is left and Craig is at right

Photo 7: Craig Porter in his late 30’s

Photo 8: Porter cousins at Base Lake – Don’s kids were swimmers while Craig’s were not.

Samuel Post: Ypsilanti's "Squeaky Clean" Politician

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Fall 2012,
Fall 2012
Original Images:






Author: Janice Anschuetz

Samuel Post: Ypsilanti’s “Squeaky Clean” Politician
By Janice Anschuetz

In this election year it would be an honor for any politician to be labeled “squeaky clean.” In the mid-1800s, Ypsilanti laid claim to a politician who was “squeaky clean” not only in the usual moral sense, but, in time, in a quite literal sense as well. This luminary was Samuel Post. In July of 1854, he was present at the founding convention of the modern Republican Party in Jackson, Michigan. Years later, he founded the highly prosperous Detroit Soap Company.

In his day, Post was such an accomplished, imaginative, gregarious and unusual man that his very appearance attracted attention both in Ypsilanti and Detroit. He was known for his stovepipe hat and frock coat, and for carrying a gold-tipped cane. Whether he was seen on Congress Street (now Michigan Avenue), in Ypsilanti, or on Woodward Avenue in Detroit, heads would turn and people would wonder whether Samuel was an escaped wedding guest or an actor in costume. Yet, it is said that all those who actually met this friendly and vibrant man believed they had made a true friend. To one and all, he was known as “Sam,” and no one who met him ever forgot him.

The Family Background: Samuel Post was born on November 9, 1834, in a brick home surrounded by gardens, in the middle of what is now the south side of Michigan Avenue, between Huron and Washington Streets. Livingstone’s History of the Republican Party, written by William Livingston in 1900, gives us more information about this family: “{Post’s} …parents were William Rollo Post, a hatter, and Mary Ann Pardee. Both parents were born in New York State, came to Michigan in 1830, and located in Ypsilanti, where they continued to reside until death, both dying in the same year at the advanced ages of 86 and 87. When they came westward the methods of travel were very primitive, the Erie Canal furnishing the best means of crossing New York State, and an ox team being used for the journey from Detroit to Ypsilanti. Mrs. Post’s father, Israel Platt Pardee, was a Captain in a New York regiment during the Revolutionary War and the more remote ancestors were French Huguenots who fled to this country to escape religious persecution by the Catholics during the reign of Louis XVI.”

William Rollo and Mary Ann Post eventually had four children, Lucy Ann Post (1827-1922) and Eliza Pardee Post (1832-1862), Samuel (1834-1921), and Helen Mary Post (1838-1917).

Samuel’s father William Rollo is best known in Ypsilanti history for building what was sometimes called the Ypsilanti Follies. According to Harvey C. Colburn in The History of Ypsilanti (1923), this large four-story building, proposed for a hat factory, was adjacent to the Michigan Avenue Bridge and called “The Nunnery,” based on its venerable appearance. Before it burned down in the great fire of 1851, the building was used as a school that began as The Presbyterian Session House. There are accounts of William’s bravery in trying to save the doors of the building, while flames fanned around town. William was also a land speculator, and, with his partner Judge Lazelere, extended the town plat south to Catherine Street in 1857.

Samuel’s Start in Business: William’s propensity for business seems to have been inherited by his only son Samuel. As a young lad, Samuel made a name for himself as a street merchant selling apples and chestnuts. Livingstone tells us that “At ten years of age, while attending school, he was employed by Charles Stuck, in his general store, to work, when not engaged in the school room, at $2.00 a month….” In an article in The Ypsilanti Daily Press of October 30, 1954, more is written about Samuel’s early ambitions. “His salary finally was advanced to $6.00 a month, and at the age of 16, he left school in order to give all his time to business. At the age of 21 he was earning $50.00 a month and decided it was time to strike out for himself.”

As often happened in Samuel’s life, just the right person came along at the right moment to help. On this occasion it was an interesting man by the name of Rev. John A. Wilson, who served at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church. Rev. Wilson lived in Ann Arbor and had no horse, so he walked to Ypsilanti to conduct services and the business of the church. The elder Posts and their children were active members of St. Luke’s, and Samuel’s sister Lucy sang in the choir.

Samuel is said to have explained his ambitions to open his own store to Rev. Wilson and to have asked his advice on how to raise $500 to add to the $500 he had saved from his own small salary. He was so convincing in his eagerness that the kind Rev. Wilson lent the young man $500 from his own savings to be paid back, without interest, over the next five years.

The Ypsilanti Daily Press article states: “Post entered into partnership with Robert Lambie, a man who had learned tailoring in Scotland and together they launched into the dry goods business. It was successful and later Post sold [his share] to his partner and built the Post Block which housed the largest general store in town.” The Post Block is situated on the north side of what is now Michigan Avenue (then Congress Street), between Washington and Adams. In its day, it was surely one of the most elegant blocks in the county, housing both the famed Opera House and the glorious Hawkins’s House Hotel.

Family Life and Civic Stature: Samuel’s personal life also prospered during this time. In 1857, he married a beautiful young woman, Amanda “Mandy” S. Flower, who was born in New York. The couple soon had three children: William Rollo Post, born in 1858; Helen E. Post, born around 1860; and Samuel Post, born in 1867.

In 1865, the young family moved into a large brick home on West Forest near College Place, at the edge of the campus of the Normal School. Samuel’s parents and his sister Helen, who taught at the college, lived with them. Samuel had bought the home from a local merchant, Adonijah S. Welch, for $9,550. With its large lawn and gardens, it was the perfect place to raise a family and also to entertain and impress others. By this time, Post was considered a man of substance and character, and one of the most important people in Ypsilanti. He was a warden at St. Luke’s Church and a prominent and prosperous citizen of Washtenaw County.

A Career in Politics: Several sources, such as the Ypsilanti Daily Press article cited above and an obituary at the end of Sam’s life, add substance to a Post family legend. It reports that Samuel was present when the modern Republican Party was formed at its first party convention, in July, 1854 at Jackson, Michigan, under the spreading limbs of an old oak tree. Samuel was just a young man at the time, only 20 years old, but keenly interested in politics. At the convention he met the Republican politician Zachariah Chandler, a Detroit dry goods merchant, who soon became a helpful friend.

To pursue his ambitions for a political career, Samuel first sold off his share of the dry goods partnership in 1870, earning a good profit. In the same year, he was elected to the state legislature, and two years later became head of the Republican Party in Washtenaw County.

We learn more about Sam’s burgeoning political career in Livingstone’s book on the Republican Party. While in the state legislature, Livingstone tells us, Post “…was Chairman of the Insurance Committee and of the Committee on Federal Relations. As Chairman of the former Committee he framed or reported some very important legislation, including the general law under which the first Insurance Commissioner, Samuel H. Row, was appointed and virtually created the Insurance Department.” Post was also a member of the State Central Committee and attended many state and national conventions.

With growing national exposure, and the help of his friend Zachariah Chandler, who knew President Grant personally, Post was appointed by the President in 1873 to serve four years as the United States Pension Agent at Detroit. He was subsequently re-appointed by President Arthur, and served a total of twelve years and ten months in this office.

In a Detroit newspaper article, found in the archives of the Ypsilanti Historical Museum and dated January 11, 1947, W.K. Kelsey provides interesting additional information about these honored appointments: “This was considered a fat job; so lucrative, indeed, that the former pension agents had departed with the funds. Therefore Uncle Sam demanded that the holder of the job post bond in the amount of $600,000.”

That was a high hurdle even for Sam Post. “He knew he was honest,” Kelsey writes, “but the temptations of the pension office had been proved great. He consulted his old friend Daniel Lace Quirk, president of the First National Bank of Ypsilanti – knowing that Quirk was a strong Democrat and unlikely to help a Grant appointee. But Dan Quirk signed the bond for $50,000.00 which was a lot of faith in those days. When Sam Post showed Dan Quirk’s signature to other responsible men in Ypsilanti and Detroit, he had no difficulty raising the rest.”

In his History of Ypsilanti, Harvey C. Colburn sheds even more light on the special credentials required for the Pension Agent’s job. He quotes Post as saying, “Had Quirk not signed, I doubt if I could have filed the bond. There were no guarantee companies in those days and the pension office was in ill repute. Three preceding agents had absconded and bondsmen had suffered. I was a Black Republican and Quirk a strong Democrat, but Quirk put his name down for $50,000.00” It is said that, in later years, Sam would stop by the First National Bank of Ypsilanti and joke with the tellers, asking them if Quirk had $50,000.00 in his account!

From Squeaky-Clean Politician to a Squeaky-Clean Business: Samuel Post’s career as United States Pension Agent at Detroit came to an end with the election of President Grover Cleveland, who appointed a Democrat to the position. But this also freed Sam for a new undertaking. Having distinguished himself as a “squeaky-clean” politician, he now formed a squeaky-clean business, the Detroit Soap Company. Again, he started out with a partner, Digby V. Bell. But, following the early death of Bell, the company was reorganized and renamed the Queen Anne Soap Company. At this juncture, Samuel’s sons, William R. and Samuel, Jr., joined the management. From then on, the company, located in Detroit, prospered under Sam’s leadership and skills as a salesman.

A Good American Businessman and a Typical Englishman of the Victorian Age: In 1893, at the age of 59, Samuel rented out his beautiful home on West Forest to the president of the Normal College, and for 45 years it served as the official residence of the college president. In 1938, the home was torn down and replaced with a new official president’s home. King Hall, a dormitory, was also built on the site. For many years, Sam’s two beautiful and rare Camperdown elm trees continued to stand outside King Hall. There they reminded passers-by of the grace and elegance of the stately Post home, until they finally died of old age over a hundred years after they were planted.

On leaving his home, Sam took residence (presumably with his wife Mandy and sister Helen, though the records don’t make this clear) at the then elegant Hawkins’s House Hotel on the north side of Michigan Avenue (then Congress Street). From that location he commuted daily to various destinations by trolley or train. In a letter written by Carl W. Dusbiber to the Ypsilanti Historical Society many years ago, we learn something about Sam’s life as an elderly man: “He was a typical Englishman of the Victorian age. He wore a stovepipe hat, a frock coat and his jowls were garnished with sideburns…. Mr. Post lived … at the Hawkins House, which at the time was considered one of the best hostelries round about. He went to the Michigan Central Depot for his frequent trips to Detroit, he always rode in a carriage…. Sam Post was a very picturesque figure. And he was friendly and affable. He was on the vestry of St. Luke’s Episcopal…. He occupied a private pew, indication that he was a very generous contributor. I observed all these things, because around 1904, I was a choir boy at St. Luke’s and once a month Sam Post and the reverend gave the boys a jolly party.”

Samuel’s unusual appearance was commented on in the newspaper article by Kelsey: “For 40 years or more, Sam Post was a notable figure in Detroit. Strangers who passed him on the street stared at him. Who was he? A medicine man from some show? An advertiser of something? A strayed wedding guest? For wherever he went, Mr. Post was arrayed in a silk hat and a frock coat. Long after these articles of apparel had become the signs of an extra-formal occasion, Sam Post wore them to his daily work. It is probable that Mr. Post adopted this garb when he was elected to the Legislature in 1870, and decided that it was the correct attire for a statesman…. He was in no sense ridiculous; the costume became him. But it made him a marked man, so that people asked who he was, and got so they felt they knew him, saluting him and speaking to him as they passed, and receiving a courteous nod in return. No doubt Sam Post enjoyed this publicity and thought it was good for Queen Anne Soap, as well as for himself.”

A Pioneer in Creative Sales Promotion: Not only was Samuel’s appearance a good advertisement for Queen Anne Soap, but he had many ways to make sure that the public knew about, and bought, his product. Each bar of soap had a trading card inside. These are now common on eBay, and the card illustrations range from flowers and infants to farmers with moonshine. Another gimmick was that the soap was sold at a discount by the case to enterprising housewives, who in turn would keep the coupons inside the case and sell the bars of soap to family and friends. The coupons could then be exchanged for such diverse items as furniture, lamps, and even a trip on a daily excursion boat to Cedar Point on Lake Erie! My mother-in-law always proudly displayed her family’s Victorian desk bought with soap coupons.

Mrs. Addie Murray of Farmington, Mich. wrote about her childhood introduction to Queen Anne soap: “I was a small girl living in Detroit and my mother would walk with her four children to a spot known as Campans dock. We would board the Belle Isle ferry and for about ten cents ride all of a summer afternoon and evening up and down the river with the orchestra playing ‘In the Good Old Summer Time.’ My first notice of Queen Anne Soap when I learned to read was a mammoth sign located at the river’s edge, which I saw on the excursions. Then later I remember Mother saving the wrappers for a new parlor lamp or something.”

Perhaps Post’s most imaginative venture into advertising was at the Detroit Fair and Exhibition of 1899. Visitors to the fair could smell the tantalizing fragrance of Queen Anne Soap, said to be the first scented soap, and couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw a full-sized cottage carved out of a giant block of the product!

Sam’s Last Years and Legacy: After the age of 80, Samuel Post sold the soap company and also the famed Opera House in the Post Block. The Opera House was never the same after that, and the Hawkins’s House Hotel was hit by a “cyclone” in 1883 and rebuilt around 1886. The Ypsilanti Opera House was converted into a movie theater in 1918, which, according to the April 2, 1918 issue of “The Michigan Film Review,” was called the Forum Theatre. The Forum then became the Wuerth Theater, which showed silent films and held occasional live shows. The part of the building that was the Wuerth Theater was torn down in 1959 to provide space for a parking lot.

Samuel Post died in Miami, Florida in December, 1921, and, after a well-attended funeral at St. Luke’s on North Huron Street, joined his wife Amanda, who had died in 1901, in peaceful rest at Highland Cemetery on North River Street.

Today, we can remember Sam Post not only for his squeaky-clean conduct as a politician, and the squeaky-clean product he made at the Queen Anne Soap Company, but as a talented public servant who was elected to the state legislature, appointed by the governor to serve six years on the Board of Trustees of the Michigan Asylum for the Insane, and appointed by two United States presidents to head the United States Pension Board at Detroit.

Sam was also a community activist. He was a life-long member, warden, and supporter of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church. As reported in the 1908 Book of Detroiters, by Albert Nelson Marquis, he was also a member of the Detroit Board of Commerce and of the Masonic Order, Knights Templar, Detroit Post No. 384.

Ypsilanti historians know Sam Post best as a colorful and productive contributor to the city’s early growth. His Post Block still stands today as a reminder of a creative vision that can continue to inspire our efforts to make Ypsilanti a more vital and attractive place to live.

(Janice Anschuetz is a local historian who contributes regularly to the Gleanings.)


Photo Captions:

Photo 1: Sam Post dressed in his silk hat and frock coat

Photo 2: An ad for Sam Post’s Queen Anne Soap

Photo 3: In 1857 Sam married Amanda “Mandy” S. Flower, who was born in New York.

Photo 4: Sam Post’s father William Rollo Post

Photo 5: Sam Post’s mother Mary Ann (Pardee) Post

Photo 6: The Post house on West Forest near College Place, at the edge of the campus of the Normal School

Photo 7: The Post Block with the Opera House and Hawkins Hotel where Sam Post lived as an old man

Photo 8: The Queen Anne Soap building in Detroit

Photo 9: Sam Post Jr. went into the soap business with his father and brother William

Photo 10: “Queen Anne Soap – without an equal as a family soap”

Discovering Adan Freeman - Family Patriarch

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Summer 2012,
Summer 2012
Original Images:


Author: Marilyn M. Freman

An article was published in the Summer 2011 edition of Ypsilanti GLEANINGS titled “Civil War – Comrades in Arms.” One of the featured soldiers was Levi S. Freeman. His father was Adan Freeman, a pioneer farmer in Ypsilanti Township. Inadvertently, Adan’s name was changed a few times, by the editor, in that article to Adam Freeman. I have been asked to submit proof that the spelling of the name was truly Adan.

Historically, my research had shown that his name could be found in various places as Adan, Adam, Aden or Adin Freeman. This article may serve a dual purpose as many of you may have researched your family trees and also found family names spelled in various ways. Follow along on our journey to discover Adan Freeman. Within his life history, you may discover clues to sources that will help you trace your own ancestors. It should be noted that Adan was also the great grandfather of my husband, Frank H. Freeman.

Typically, when one begins a search for family roots, you begin with yourself and your own resources.

So, we began our search for our ancestor, Adan (sometimes called Adam) at our home. My husband had stored inherited family heirlooms in our attic. In a large metal “tea box” were many old photos and some photo albums. The oldest albums dated from about 1862-1900. We had tintype photos that preceded those dates. Some pictures were identified and some not. On the second page of the oldest small album was a picture labeled Adam Freeman, father of Francis. We had some old letters, historical books and a couple of journals. We also had Francis
J. Freeman’s (Adan’s son) muzzle-loaded rifle, Colt pistol and a curly maple bed. In Ypsilanti, we had living older relatives who shared their Freeman family stories, pictures and memorabilia. They led us to other family members and descendants. We were all enriched with knowledge and the joy of reconnecting with family.

We expanded our research beyond home and family. Washtenaw County was abundant in resources. We joined the Genealogical Society of Washtenaw County (GSWC) and the Ypsilanti Historical Society (YHS). We found records in libraries at Ypsilanti and Ann Arbor, including the Bentley Historical Library at the University of Michigan where we first viewed the 1850 every person census of the Adam Freeman family. We discovered that local library computers subscribed to the genealogy sites of ancestry.com and heritagequest.org. Eventually, we purchased our own computer for research where many free resources, such as familysearch.org and seekingmichigan.org further enhanced our records.

The GSWC library held the Adan Freeman Bible Record along with a wealth of other family bible records. Herein we found the names and dates of birth and death of Adan, his two wives and children. Members of this society provided sources of a sibling of Adan and also led us to Robert R. Freeman, the author of Freeman Families of New England in the 17th and 18th Centuries. For many years now, Robert R. Freeman and I have worked together on our Freeman family line.

War of 1812 military indexes on ancestry.com recorded his name as both Adan and Adam. But original military records purchased from the National Archives (NARA) revealed the name to be spelled Adan Freeman. Included was a pension document that had been printed at the office of the Sentinel-Ypsilanti that actually displayed the original signature of Adan Freeman. It is best to find original documents where possible, thus avoiding handwriting interpretations of others. Do send for military pension records as they usually contain a wealth of original information about the veteran and his family.

Ancestry.com provided 1830-1860 population census records that recorded Mr. Freeman’s name as Adam. A non- population agriculture census spelled it as Adan. Original land and tax records of Adan and Arial (brother) Freeman were found in Ontario County, New York from 1815-1819. A land record was found online at ancestry.com that showed proof of purchase from the government of a land patent by Adan Freeman, dated February 1832, in Ypsilanti Town, section 14. Additionally, found at the Washtenaw County Register of Deeds, Ann Arbor were records of purchase of land by Adin and Adan Freeman, in 1847 from William Gibbs and in 1860 from Owin (sic) and Geo. Smith. This land on section 14 added more acreage to Adan’s farm in Ypsilanti Town.

Found at the Ypsilanti library on film was the Ypsilanti Commercial newspaper which published the obituary of Adam Freeman who died: 1867 April 18th, aged 77 yrs. His tombstone in Highland Cemetery reads, Adan Freeman, died Apr. 18, 1867. The Ypsilanti Commercial obituary of Almira Freeman stated: died April 7th 1882. Her tombstone in Highland Cemetery read, Almira, wife of Adam Freeman. Buried on the same family plot was Minerva C. Joslin, Dau. of Adan and A. Freeman.

Portrait and Biographical Album books document the lives of prominent individuals of the county.

From Michigan, in 1891, the Washtenaw County Album book recorded the life of Francis J. Freeman, son of Adan Freeman. In 1884, the Gratiot County Book recorded the life of Nicholas Joslin and his wife, Minerva, daughter of Adan Freeman. The book, History of Washtenaw County by Chapman in 1881, recorded him as Adam Freeman. All three books can now be accessed on Google Book Search.

Death records of people who died in Michigan between 1897 and 1920 can be searched on-line at seekingmichigan.org. Found there were Fredrick, Minerva, Walter, Levi, and Lucinda all children whose death certificates stated that their father was Adan Freeman. The children, Francis J., Martin and Charles R. Freeman’s deaths preceded that time frame.

Continuing our Freeman family research, we sought to discover the parents of Adan. We found that there was a probable link between my husband’s great grandfather, Adan Freeman and Roger Freeman, a descendant of the immigrant, Edmund Freeman of New England, who arrived in America in 1635. My husband, Frank joined the on-line Freeman DNA Project hosted by Hope Freeman Carnicle. In 2006, DNA evidence from my husband proved to be an exact match with that of a known descendant of Edmund Freeman. This result established genetic proof of the correct New England Freeman family line.

We then attempted to find more information regarding Adan’s parents. In 2007, the papers of Rev. Milton Wright, a United Brethren Church Bishop and the father of the Wright brothers of airplane fame, were found indexed on-line at Wright State University in Dayton, Ohio. Copies of these same original papers were found by me at The Henry Ford, Benson Ford Research Center in Dearborn. Rev. Milton Wright, an avid genealogist, was a descendant of the immigrant, Edmund Freeman. Rev. Wright had made contact with Rev. John Freeman, a fellow United Brethren minister, who was a son of Adan’s brother, Richard of Ohio. Both attended Freeman family reunions in Ohio in 1906 and 1907. For these reunions, Milton Wright wrote the full genealogy of our Freeman family from Edmund Freeman through Roger Freeman. Rev. Wright wrote by hand the names of Roger’s children: 1. Adan, born about 1793; 2. Arile (Arial); 3. Richard, b. in 1802; 4. Alvey (Alvah); 5. John, who died young; 6. Selden; 7. Cindarella; 8. Daughter, name not given (Lucinda). These papers provide the best evidence of the family and descendants of Roger Freeman, the father of our ancestor, Adan Freeman.

In 2008, the 120-page biographical book of Adan Freeman’s brother, Memoirs of Rev. John Freeman, became available on Google Book Search. Published in 1835, this source identified his father, Roger Freeman, his mother and step-mother, along with a description of their family life from 1800 to 1833.

The above records present a pattern. In some instances, especially in census records when the informant was likely Adan’s wife, Almira, the name spelled as Adam appeared. Census information was generally given by the person of authority at home when the census taker arrived. This would most likely be the homemaker. The farmer would probably be working the fields, animals or be in the barnyard. Also, for various reasons, misspellings in census records are often found. Almira’s tombstone was the only one on the family plot that displayed her husband’s name as Adam. The family bible record was titled, Adan Freeman Bible Record. Most official land and military records, plus all original death certificates of Mr. Freeman’s children, document the spelling of his name as Adan. The most Rev. Milton Wright spelled the name Adan Freeman.

After several years of research, we concluded that although Adan Freeman’s name was sometimes misprinted as Adam, Adin or Aden Freeman, the true spelling, according to our family research records, was Adan Freeman, son of Roger Freeman, direct line descendant of the immigrant, Edmund Freeman of Sandwich, Massachusetts. Adan Freeman, pioneer farmer of Ypsilanti Township, was the first generation of our Freeman family in Michigan. Honoring the Freeman Family Patriarch, descendants bearing the name Adan exist in each generation through to the present time.

This type of research to discover one’s family history is referred to as Genealogy. Who do You Think You Are? and Finding Your Roots are popular television series programs that explore and research the family lineage of famous people. Genealogy is now considered to be the second largest hobby in the United States. I hope that our amateur pursuits will serve to provide potential sources for the research of your ancestors and will inspire many of you to search, reconnect with family, and to share the joy of your heritage as we have.

NOTATION: More detailed information on this article can be found in the Ypsilanti Historical Society archives. This article has been about a name, not the life story of the man. By referring to and studying the sources included, it is possible to discover, reconstruct and envision the personal life story of Adan Freeman.

[Margaret M. Freeman is a family historian who belongs to the Ypsilanti Historical Society and enjoys researching and sharing information about our ancestors.]


[Photo caption from original print edition]: Adan Freeman at age 74 (1790-1867). Adan was the father of 13 children with the last 7 born after 1831 in Ypsilanti Township

[Photo caption from original print edition]: Almira Mason Dexter Freeman at age 67 (1797-1882). Almira was the mother of 6 Dexter children and 8 Freeman children

[Photo caption from original print edition]: Adan Freeman’s gravestone (left) and Almira Freeman’s (right) in Highland Cemetery

Warren Lewis and his famed Auction Sales Pavilion

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Summer 2012,
Summer 2012
Original Images:


Author: James Mann

Warren Lewis started out his career as a circus barker. According to an article in the February 5, 1941 issue of a local paper, “Mr. Lewis’ father, W. H. Lewis, operated a chain of hotels including the famous Follett House and the Oliver House at the Depot. There the circus and show people stopped and early in life Mr. Lewis mingled with them. He joined the John Robinson Railroad Show from Cincinnati when they stopped in Ypsilanti. The shows unloaded and loaded at the Deubel Mills and from his window, Mr. Lewis, then past 15, watched and made up his mind to join them. Mr. and Mrs. Gill Robinson, part owners of the circus, stayed at the Follett House and after Warren was discovered with the show, Mrs. Robinson looked after him in a motherly way. Mrs. Robinson was the daughter of “Wild Bill” Hickok, of Western fame.” Lewis had become disabled at age 11 when he lost his left hand above the wrist.

According to other sources Lewis not only traveled with circuses all over the United States but also spent considerable time in Europe with the Barnum and Bailey Circus. According to an article in the October 30, 1954 Ypsilanti Press, “His happiest days were those with the Barnum circus where, as chief barker, he road atop the leading wagon in the old time parade and warned, “Watch your horses, the elephants are coming.’” Lewis married one of the “best bareback riders of her day” and together they owned “Hamptons Great Empire and Warren Lewis’s Two Ring Circus.” The show consisted of two railroad cars when they started out but in 1917 when he sold the show it consisted of 22 railroad cars.

Today Warren Lewis is best remembered as the manager of the Lewis Horse Exchange, a gambling den he operated in Depot Town during the early years of the 20th Century. Gamblers rode the Interurban from Detroit during the racing season to place their bets on the races. This activity received a great deal of attention at the time, until it was closed by order of the governor in 1911.

Yet during his lifetime Lewis was best known for his skills as an auctioneer. He may have been the first to sell an automobile at auction. It was said, if there was anything he had not auctioned a new addition of the dictionary would have to be issued to include it. Lewis resided at the house at 204 North Street, and owned a large tract of land around the house. This property was bounded by North Street, the Michigan Central Railroad sidetrack on Lincoln Ave. and Babbitt Street. On this property Lewis announced he was planning to build an auction sales pavilion. “The sales pavilion will be built adjoining the Michigan Central sidetrack which passed over Mr. Lewis’ property. This insures the best of shipping facilities for those who will send stock here to dispose of at auction and to buyers who may wish to ship out their purchase,” reported The Ypsilanti Daily Press of Saturday, March 21, 1908.

“The pavilion will be built with glass sides and wholly enclosed,” continued the account. “The seats will be amphitheater style with a ring as in a circus where the stock will be in plain view of everyone when it is under the hammer. There will be an auctioneer’s stand and cashier’s desk. The sales will be conducted summer and winter and in order to make it thoroughly comfortable in cold weather, the pavilion will be equipped with a steam heating plant. There won’t be anything small or cheap about the whole affair. It is designed to be one of the auction centers of the country and a leading attraction of the city.”

The pavilion was principally designed for the sale of horses and cattle. “I propose to pull off some of the big farm auction sales there too,” said Lewis. “It will be central and farmers can bring in everything they have to offer.”

The auction sales pavilion must have been a success, as Lewis added a second pavilion some twelve years later. “The new pavilion has a Michigan (Central Railroad) siding and loading shoot and about 8,900 feet of floor space and will accommodate 20 automobiles or vehicles, large consignments of house furnishings, general merchandise, and will be an excellent place for holding stock sales,” reported The Ypsilanti Record of Thursday, April 22, 1920. “It faces the D. U. R. tracks (Interurban) on Michigan Avenue and will also serve the farmers who wish to dispose of their farm products of live stock, or farm machinery which they wish to bring for private or public sale, with little or no expense to them, in fact, they can advertise and conduct their own sale.”

Lewis was known throughout the United States and Europe for his auctioneering skills. M. Cummings, editor of a big auction journal in Chicago published the following comments: “America has had many really great auctioneers who have made fame and fortune usually specializing in some particular line of sales. Warren Lewis is the greatest all around auctioneer on earth. The reason for this is he can become an expert on any kind of a sale, selling on a few minutes’ notice. Our files in this office show that he specialized with the top liners for several years before he stepped out in the champion class of all around auctioneers and is now in a class by himself. Besides conducting larges sales Warren Lewis is an instructor in the art of auctioneering at his large home auction studio in the college city of Ypsilanti, Michigan. The writer is thinking that if anyone can give fundamental principles and teach auctioneering in all its branches Warren Lewis is the man.”

Lewis sold the auction grounds to the Ward Company of Jackson on Friday, May 28, 1937. The new owners planned to remodel the buildings and set up a buying and shipping business. “The grounds have been a landmark for many years,” noted The Ypsilanti Daily Press of Friday, May 28, 1937, “and many deals, starting with horses in former days and progressing to automobiles in recent times have been transacted.”

Today there is nothing of the auction pavilion to be seen. All that remains is the house where Lewis once lived.

(James Mann is a local historian and author, a regular contributor to the GLEANINGS, and a volunteer in the YHS Archives.)


[Photo caption from original print edition]: Warren Lewis enjoyed the attention he received because of his jaunty attire and the fact that he usually carried a cane

[Photo caption from original print edition]: The Warren Lewis Auction Sales Pavilion was located at 204 North Street where he owned a large tract of land around the house

Walter B. Hewitt: A Success Story Worthy of Dickens

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Summer 2012,
Summer 2012
Original Images:





Author: Jan Anscheutz

Good historical research and writing do not die; they just “fade away.” They may in fact stay hidden in an Ypsilanti Historical Museum archives file until they are rediscovered, read, and republished more than a century later. Such is the case with a fascinating obituary that pays tribute to the life of Walter B. Hewitt, one of Ypsilanti’s most important business, political and cultural pioneers.

Published anonymously in the Ypsilanti Commercial of September 10, 1886, the obituary recounts Hewitt’s life as if he were a character in a novel by Charles Dickens – an immensely popular author at the time of Hewitt’s death. Like David Copperfield, Hewitt rose from poverty and misfortune to riches and glory by remaining true to the virtues of honesty, integrity and hard work.

What follows is the story of the life of Walter Hewitt, exactly as it appeared 126 years ago as an obituary in the Ypsilanti Commercial. It has been transcribed in its entirety from a hand-written version.

“Walter B. Hewitt died in this city Saturday, September 4, 1886. The subject of this sketch was born at Stillwater, Saratoga County, New York, February 4, 1800. His father’s name was Elisa, who emigrated from Connecticut to New York.

The ancestors of Mr. Hewitt came from England and participated in the early struggles of this country. Mr. Hewitt was named after his grandfather, Walter, who was actively engaged in the Revolutionary War, and during the hours of destitution, when Washington’s soldiers were leaving those bloody tracks in the snow, he braved the dangers of Indian and British warfare and carried to the starving army many a load of provisions. His grandfather, Edmund Johnson, was also distinguished for his love of liberty, his powerful strength, and great daring. He was a captain in the Revolutionary War and so agile was he that he could easily leap over a yoke of oxen.

Cynthia Johnson Hewitt (his mother) was left a widow when he was but two years old. The farm was sold and sometime afterward she married George Ardres Downing, a skilled mechanic.

Mr. Hewitt’s early life was spent as were the lives of boys of those early days. He began school at seven, and his extreme bashfulness made it a great event in his life. He attended the village school, taught by a Mr. Brush, and his instruction included a little geography and sums in “Pike’s” arithmetic. At this time most problems were solved in pounds, shillings, and pence, and in this study he became proficient. In the school of his early days, blackboards and globes were unknown. The maps in geography were regarded as useless and the instruction was of the most arbitrary character. Although punishment by force was common, he escaped that disgrace.

His winter days were spent in school. During the summer he helped make quilts or assisted in the general housework. Judged by our standard, the conveniences of his early days were few. There were no shoe or tailor shops, but itinerant shoemakers would spend a day or a week at the various houses supplying the needs of the inhabitants. To him, his first pair of shoes formed a great event in his history (and a real pair of shoes did not come till he was twelve years old) and so careful was he of them that when he came to a dusty place in the road he would take them off and wrap them in his handkerchief.

His mother was a woman of great mental power, and as he was then much in her society, she made a powerful impression on his life. She filled his young heart with stories of Revolutionary days, and while he turned the (spinning) wheel, she inculcated those principles of integrity for which his life has always been distinguished. His mother was a woman of firm religious conviction, and though she lived many miles from the Baptist Church, when Sabbath came she would gather her children together and struggle through the almost impassable woods to the place of worship. The intellectual stimulus which he got from his mother showed itself in his desire for study and improvement. So when his next teacher came, a man by the name of Grosvender, he was a boy active in body and mind. To swim a mile was almost a daily occurrence, and one day he challenged his teacher to a foot race. This was unfortunate, for during the struggle he fell and injured his knee. For months he was confined to his bed, but his energy conquered. He arose finally and determined he would have an education – and for a year he walked two miles to school daily, dragging his useless limb after him. Although it took him two hours to hobble over as many miles, his time in school was well spent. It was a proud moment for him when the teacher gave public testimony to his superiority as a scholar. At this time too, he was a fine penman, and copies from his hand were sought after by the scholars.

When Deacon Munger came from an adjoining district for a teacher, Mr. Grosvender recommended the boy with the best principles, and with the best record as a scholar. He successfully fulfilled the duties of a teacher for several terms, and received $12 a month and ‘board around.’ He had a month of advanced scholars, who were nearly his equal in arithmetic, but they never knew it, for many a fortnight found him by the fireplace pouring over his books by the pitch pine light. The knowledge which he thus obtained was lasting, much of it being as vivid as ever seventy years afterward.

After finishing his school, he went to work in a brickyard and then learned the tanner and currier’s trade of his brother, Edmund J. Hewitt.

In 1825, he married Polina Childs, and then came to his ears stories of the West, an almost unknown land. He resolved to leave the conservative East and face the pioneer struggles of the West. In those needy times he found a strong helpmate in his wife. She had been a school teacher at fourteen, receiving six shillings a week, and for a number of years had charge of a large family of younger children. These struggles had brought out her mental and moral powers. She cheerfully faced many hardships, and when in the solitude of Michigan forests, financial loss, and disease threatened destruction, her spirit rose triumphant and dispelled the fear of failure. Of her, he always loved to speak, and during his last days, when the subject of his early trials was mentioned, and she was referred to as being of undaunted spirit, he said with all the vigor he could use, ‘Yes, to her I owe all that I am.’

The Erie Canal caused a stream of immigration to flow to Michigan and in 1826 he joined the westward pushing emigrants and landed at Detroit when it had a population of but little more than 2000. At this time the people were mainly gathered on Woodward and Jefferson Avenues. The French largely predominated and obtained most of the land in the vicinity of the river. St. Ann’s and a Presbyterian Church were the only ones built. Gristmills were run by oxen and the town had the appearance of a frontier post. He held dear recollections of Larned Cole, A. C. McGraw, Frazer and of Father Richard and the first printing press.

After landing, he obtained an Indian guide and started through the pathless forests to find land upon which to build a house. He finally located at Walled Lake and here underwent all of the privations of pioneer life. For weeks every one of the party was prostrate from fever. There were none to tend the sick, none to provide food, and it was here that he shed the first tears of despair. He crawled from the house, that was filled with the sick and sat down upon a log, almost wished that death would bring them relief, and it was here that Polina Hewitt showed the strength of her character. Half dead herself she encouraged him until the fever abated its fires. Foreseeing that a life here would be intolerable he disposed of what little land he had and returned to Detroit.

Here he went into business, but a good opening presented itself at Ypsilanti, and in 1831, he came to the city that has since been his home. He rented a building on Main St. and soon had a prosperous shoe shop in operation. He, unaided, did the cutting for twenty two men while his wife did all the stitching for the shop besides doing her household duties and boarding twelve men. Such work naturally brought success. He bought farming lands and building lots and soon erected a store on the corner of Congress and Washington Streets. Naturally a man of integrity and business ability would be called upon by his fellows to transact their business and so we find him filling various offices of public trust. He was one of the trustees under the first village ordinance, was town clerk before the village was incorporated, was treasurer in 1839 and president in 1840 and in 1842 was elected to the State Legislature. He was not a public speaker and did not seek political honors. He sought results rather than theory.

He was very active in Masonic works and was the first secretary of the Lodge of Freemasons. His relations with his fellow men were peculiarly happy. During his last hours, he recalled with pleasure that as far as he knew, he had never wronged a person willfully. He was one of the very few who, amid a variety of business transactions, was never the party to a lawsuit.

With regard to his religious views, he was always reserved. He never scoffed. He never condemned. A conversation with him but a few weeks before his death showed that he stood as high on the mountain that gives the glimpse of immortality as is given most of us to stand. Conscious of his own impending death, he was calm and hopeful of the future, no doubts followed to darken his declining moments. He had been a kind father, a tender husband. He had honored his fellow men and had received their esteem. He had nothing to regret, all to hope for, and, as he looked back over the past, he could say in the language of him who sat at his post in the Legislative hall, ‘This is the last of earth. I am content.’ Reverend T. W. MacLean conducted the funeral exercises Tuesday from the late home.”

Founder of Walled Lake and Ypsilanti Pioneer
Although this is a wonderfully written life story, pieces are missing that made me want to find out more about Hewitt and his life and legacy, misfortune and triumph. Several books, including the History of Oakland County by Samuel Durant, published in 1877, and History of Oakland County Michigan..., written by Thaddeus D. Seeley in 1912, credit Walter Hewitt with being the founder of the community of Walled Lake. Though trained as a teacher, tanner, and shoe and boot maker, at the age of 25, in June, 1825, Hewitt built a log cabin in the wilderness surrounding what came to be called Walled Lake, and attempted to establish a farm in the swamps. However, after several years without much success, he moved with his young family to Detroit, where, it seems, he worked as a shoemaker. There his wife presented him with a son, Edmund, who was born November 14, 1829.

Hewitt worked four years in Detroit in the boot and shoe trade. Then, according to his biography in the History of Washtenaw County (published in 1881), he and his young family decided to seek their fortune in the growing village of Ypsilanti, to which they moved in 1831. Traveling from Detroit to Ypsilanti in those days was an adventure in itself. In The History of Ypsilanti, written by Harvey Colburn in 1923, the author gives us a sense of what was involved: “The road was almost impassable to an ox team and it sometimes took three days to make the thirty-mile trip. For years after its opening, the Detroit road ran through seas of mud and over miles of jolting corduroy; no teamster thought of leaving home without an axe and log chain to cut poles to pry his wagon out of the mud. For a time the road was so impassable that travelers had to come from Detroit by way of Plymouth and Dixboro.”

Unfazed by such challenges, however, Walter, his wife Polina, and their young son Edmund completed the trek to Ypsilanti, where Walter again took up the business of tanning and making shoes and boots.

A Political Pioneer and Champion of Law and Order
In the History of Washtenaw County, Michigan we read: “As early as 1829 the township of Ypsilanti was organized, under authority of a Legislative enactment approved Oct. 1, 1829. Three years later the villagers of Ypsilanti assembled within the shop of John Bryan, to carry out the provisions of another Legislative enactment, which provided for the organization of their village. This meeting was held Sept. 3, 1832, and resulted in the return of John Gilbert as Village President; E. M. Skinner, Village Recorder; Ario Pardee, Village Treasurer; and Abel Millington, Mark Norris, Thomas R. Brown, James Vanderbilt, Walter B. Hewitt, Village Trustees.”

The Trustees’ job was to decide what improvements were needed in the village, such as new roads and operating statutes, and then to make sure these were implemented by committees they appointed. After serving as a village Trustee, Hewitt played an expanding and important role in establishing Ypsilanti. He was made town treasurer in 1839 and elected president of Ypsilanti in 1840. In 1842 he was elected to the State Legislature.

Hewitt’s service to the community went far beyond politics, however. In the early 19th century, Ypsilanti, like America’s Wild West, seemed to attract a criminal element, and Hewitt and other law-abiding citizens sought to make their village safe for women, children, and families. The History of Washtenaw County tells us that “During the year 1838 many malcontents paid visits to the settlement, committed many robberies and depredations, and created a panic of no usual character. To remedy such an evil, the citizens assembled at the house of Abiel Hawkins, considered well a proposition to organize a committee of defense, and at a second meeting held at Mr. Hawkins’s house, Dec. 15, 1838, decided to form a society known as The Ypsilanti Vigilance Committee.”

Hewitt was an active member of the Vigilance Committee. In Past and Present of Washtenaw County, written by Samuel W. Beak in 1906, we learn more about the committee’s efforts to restore law and order in Ypsilanti: “The meetings of this society were of the most secret character and their methods of work were carefully guarded. But they showed results, for before the end of the year 1839, one hundred and twelve men had been convicted, $10,000 worth of stolen property had been recovered, and a number of bad characters had been driven out of the community.”

During this decade the Hewitt family grew rapidly. Edmund was born on November 17, 1832, and was followed by a sister, May. On February 23, 1834, Lois joined the family. Charles was born on October 3, 1836, and Walter Jr., the youngest, on September 29, 1839. Still another child died in infancy.

Hewitt supported his family by tanning leather and making shoes and boots. His business was first located on Congress Street (Michigan Avenue), but, according to reports, was destroyed by a major fire in downtown Ypsilanti in 1851. Polina (sometimes spelled Pauline or Paulina) not only helped her husband by sewing shoes all day, but also ran a boarding house with as many as 12 boarders. The boarding house may possibly have been the Hewitt residence at 201 Pearl Street, in the area of present-day Washington and Pearl Streets.

As the family accumulated money, Hewitt was able to purchase a farm in the area that now bears the family name - Hewitt Road. We read in the History of Washtenaw County that “In 1850 he bought a farm near Ypsilanti which has occupied a share of his attention since. He lost about $4,000 in 1851 by a fire consuming his building and stock which were only partially insured.” That same year, during the great fire that destroyed most of downtown Ypsilanti, his business was also burned down. In the city directory for 1873-74, Walter’s occupation is listed as “farmer.”

A Contributor to Culture and Community
Not to be discouraged by his misfortunes, Hewitt continued to work the farm and built an even grander business and store at the northeast corner of Congress and Washington Street. The address is now 126, 128 and 130 West Michigan Avenue. This was a three-story building that housed not only his shoe and boot factory and store, but an auditorium named Hewitt Hall, which provided a venue for local talent and added much vitality to the growing community. This was the place where Ypsilanti’s Frederic Pease staged concerts and operas, and introduced his operetta “Enoch Arden,” and where plays such as Uncle Tom’s Cabin brought the audience to tears. It was the place, too, where Ypsilanti men were recruited for the Civil War and where, at the end of the war, the entire community celebrated with speeches, flag waving, and poetry.

Among the performers who entertained Ypsilanti at Hewitt Hall were Tom Thumb and his wife, and the poet Will Carleton. Frederick Douglas spoke there three times, in 1866, 1867, and 1888. People came from far away to attend various events, and were able to stay overnight down the street at the Hawkins House Hotel. In 1893, after the building of the Ypsilanti Opera House, Hewitt Hall was rented by the Ypsilanti Light Guard. In 1914, it became a roller rink, which was much damaged by a fire that year. By 1937, both Hewitt Hall and the entire third floor of the commercial building were razed, possibly due to deterioration.

Perhaps the exposure to musicians and performers at Hewitt Hall were the basis for the love of music and talent pursued throughout his life by Hewitt’s son, Walter, Jr. The latter became a published composer, a celebrated organist, and a professor of music at the Normal College.

Walter B. Hewitt’s efforts to uplift the community with entertainment and enlightenment at Hewitt Hall were not his only contributions to Ypsilanti culture. Playing an instrumental role, he joined with others in his church congregation in 1856 to build the beautiful First Presbyterian Church on Washington Street. According to Samuel W. Beck, author of Past and Present of Washtenaw County, Michigan, the building committee of which Hewitt was a part was responsible not only for helping to plan the building with the architect George S. Green, but for raising the entire cost of $16,000 and making sure the new building met all specified standards.

By the time the church was built, Hewitt and his family were living just a few blocks away from both the church and his booming store and factory, at 442 North Huron Street. There, the hard-working, good-spirited Polina Childs Hewitt, who was the sixth child of Mark Anthony and Hannah Childs, died on February 1, 1873, at the age of 71. Walter lived on as a widower for 13 years and died in his home in 1886.

Here this narrative comes full circle, back to Walter B. Hewitt’s obituary. Perhaps, as you drive down Hewitt Road, you can now better appreciate how much all of us owe to the brave young men, such as Walter Bernard Hewitt, who, with fortitude, courage and faith, helped not only to build Ypsilanti, but to give it shape as a vital community.

(Janice Anschuetz is a local historian who is a regular contributor to the GLEANINGS.)


Like David Copperfield, Hewitt rose from poverty and misfortune to riches and glory...

[Photo caption from original print edition]: Walter Hewitt & Polinda Childs Hewitt

[Photo caption from original print edition]: A Christmas trading card with the inscription: “Presented by Hewitt & Champion, Fine Boots and Shoes. Ypsilanti, Mich.”

[Photo caption from original print edition]: An Easter trading card: “Presented by Hewitt & Champion, manufacturers and dealers in Boots, Shoes and Rubbers, fine work a spe- cialty, Ypsilanti, Mich. (Patent applied for)”

[Photo caption from original print edition]: The three story building at 126, 128 and 130 West Michigan Avenue (the current address) housed Hewitt’s shoe and boot factory and store, and also an auditorium named Hewitt Hall

[Photo caption from original print edition]: Hewitt played an instrumental role in 1856 in the planning and building of the First Presbyterian Church on Washington Street

[Photo caption from original print edition]: Walter & Polina’s son Edmund with his granddaughter Gladys taken in 1912

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