By Charlie at Pasty Central (Chopper) on Sunday, July 20, 2014 - 09:50 am:
Rudyard, Michigan's motto is "Small But Friendly", not to be confused with Rudyard Montana's: "596 Nice People - 1 Old Sore Head". Edie and I passed through Rudyard in the eastern U.P. last week on our way from Marquette to Petoskey (and back the very next day) and were reminded of how Rudyard got its name back in the 1880's - the subject of our July 20 Pasty Central Day in History.
The second photo appeared on the Pasty Cam about 14 years ago, a scene along the tracks near Rudyard. It's from Jon Jacobson, whose Picture Michigan website morphed from a regional daily photo site (like Pasty Central) into a popular wedding and portrait photography business. And we just had to throw in the link to an old home movie from Rudyard taking us back to the Winter Wonderland in 1965.
There aren't many old photos of Rudyard on the web. But there are a number of stories from the folks who settled the town, including this one from Henry Jarvi (courtesy of D. Savoie's Welcome to Rudyard):
Before I came to Rudyard, I worked for a time in an iron mine at Stambaugh, near Crystal Falls. One day in 1904 two gangs were set to work in a gallery twelve feet high by ten feet wide, two hundred feet below the surface. Each gang had to drill with a machine air drill three twenty foot holes and fill with sticks of sixty per cent dynamite and fit with percussion caps and ten minute fuses.
It was agreed that we would light our fuses first and then go fifteen feet and climb the ladder which led to the opening in the roof. The second gang would then light their fuses and follow us up the ladder. Suddenly someone in the other gang shouted, "Are you ready?" and I called back "No!"
After this, hearing nothing further, we went on with our work. Then I shouted that we were ready, but getting no answer, I called again with the same result. Then I said "Those fellows must have gone," so I went to look and saw little sparks spluttering from the side of the wall of the deserted gallery. I knew what this meant, the fuses had been lighted and the men had gone. So I shouted to the others to light our fuses and come quickly. No sooner had they lighted the last one of our three that the first of the charges ahead exploded with a deafening report. Our light was blown out and we were in darkness, caught like rats in a trap.
There were five more charges yet to explode. Then I remembered that there was a little hollow place on the opposite side of the gallery beneath an overhanging shelf of rock about two feet wide. Crawling on our hands and knees, we groped about until we found this little shelter. Here we lay face downward while charge after charge exploded, filling the air with smoke and dust and hurling huge masses of rock all around.
The rocky shelf above us quivered and shook, threatening with every fresh explosion to fall and crush us to death. Finally there was silence and still we waited and waited lest there should be another explosion yet to come. Nothing further happened, however, and stumbling through the smoke and darkness over the masses of dislodged and broken rock, we reached at length the ladder and escaped from that dreadful gallery.
We discovered afterwards that the men ahead of us had mistaken the word "No" for the Finnish word "Jo," meaning "Yes" and which is pronounced "Yo." Can you wonder that when Henry Johnson came around seeking men to come and colonize Rudyard, that we did not hesitate to quit the mines for the health and freedom of life on a farm.
Maybe next Sunday we can visit farther west in the U.P. to the other end of the tracks surrounded by Rudyard Kipling's name. Have a good week :o)
