Idaho Medical Association Holds Its First Organizational Meeting [otd 09/12]

On Tuesday, September 12, 1893, a number of Idaho physicians arrived in Boise City from all over the state. They had assembled to organize a state professional medical association. One historian has commented that “the state was overrun with quacks” at the time. A letter from Dr. Carol Lincoln Sweet to physicians statewide prompted the meeting, which was held at the new City Hall.

Boise City Hall, first occupied in May 1893.
[Illust-State]

A New Yorker with a degree from Albany Medical College, Sweet moved to Boise City in 1890 to set up a practice. The professional situation he found disturbed him greatly. Although there had been some vague talk about the deplorable medical environment, no one had done anything about it. Then, in June 1893, Sweet sent out his letter and received an enthusiastic response.

“A Crusade Against Quacks,” was one of the sub-headlines the Idaho Statesman (August 31, 1893) used to announce the planned organizational meeting. A medical society would “advance the interests of the profession … and … take steps to protect the public against the inroads of quackery.” The article quoted the Pacific Medical Journal, which asserted that Idaho had become  “a dumping ground for the poorly educated and the rejected applicants of other state examining boards.”

The doctors' two-day conclave featured technical presentations and fostered camaraderie among the attendees. Twenty-nine charter members organized the Idaho State Medical Society. For their first president, they elected Moscow physician Dr. William W. Watkins. Watkins graduated from the Washington University (St. Louis, Missouri) medical program in 1872. For eight years, he practiced at a town south of St. Louis before moving into that city. Personal health problems led him to move to Moscow in 1887.

Besides his Medical Society service, Dr. Watkins was a member of the American Medical Association and served on the University of Idaho Board of Regents. He was also president of the Moscow Chamber of Commerce. Sadly, in 1901, an apparently insane man went on a rampage and shot Watkins, a local merchant, and a deputy sheriff before a posse shot and killed the shooter. Watkins died immediately, while the deputy died two days later.

Dr. Watkins. Idaho Statesman, 1901.

Five years of study and lobbying by the Society finally led to passage of an acceptable medical practice regime for the state. However, not until 1949 did the legislature create the Idaho State Board of Medicine, which provided a focal point for licensing and regulating medical practitioners in the state.

Like all professional organizations, the Society – later the Idaho State Medical Association – encourages its members to keep their skills current. Resources include programs of scientific papers at its meetings, seminars and continuing education courses, equipment reviews and recommendations, and more.

In 1967, the organization adopted its current name, Idaho Medical Association. In addition to programs for members, the Association sponsors a range of programs to encourage Idaho students who are interested in the medical professions. That includes a Medical Education Scholarship Trust.

At their 2010 Annual Meeting, the Association highlighted a severe shortage of “primary care” physicians in Idaho. They noted that “Idaho is ranked 49th in the nation for physician-to-population ratio,” and that many physicians are approaching retirement. The Association passed a resolution to “facilitate the development of an Idaho Primary Care Scholars Program.” That program would include mentoring as well as a possible expansion of the scholarship trust.
                                                                                                                                     

References: [B&W], [Illust-State]

“Deaths and Obituaries: William W. Watkins, M. D.,” Journal of the American Medical Association, Vol. 37, Chicago (July-December 1901).

Arthur Hart, “Building Delays Frustrate City,” The Idaho Statesman, January 11, 1993.

IMA's History: A Legacy of Leadership, Idaho Medical Association web site.

“Dr. Watkins and Deputy Sheriff Murdered,” Idaho Statesman (August 5-6, 1901)

Caldwell Banker, Newspaperman, and Developer Albert Steunenberg [otd 09/11]

A. K. Steunenberg.
J. H. Hawley photo.

Newspaperman and banker Albert Keppel Steunenberg was born September 11, 1863 in Knoxville, Iowa, about twenty-five miles southeast of Des Moines. After high school, “A.K.” – as he was later known to friends – served an apprenticeship as a printer, advancing to journeyman class after a few years.

He also showed a talent for more than the mechanics of the trade, developing solid abilities as a writer and editor.

He moved to Caldwell, Idaho, in 1886. Although A. K. then had little money, he saw an opportunity at the “moribund” Caldwell Tribune. He persuaded his brother Frank to follow him West and they purchased the struggling newspaper. Frank had previous experience as a publisher and the Tribune did well under their management. Three years after A. K. arrived, he helped form the Caldwell Board of Trade (basically, a chamber of commerce), serving as its first secretary.

They sold the newspaper around 1893. A. K. bought farm land about four miles from the city, but the following year he joined with a group of partners to establish the Commercial Bank of Caldwell. Within a few years, the Steunenberg’s had interests in a number of businesses in Caldwell and around the state. That included placer gold sites along the Snake River, a coal mine west of Driggs, and a hydroelectric power plant near Bear Lake. A.K. handled most of the day-to-day operations, while Frank became heavily involved in state politics.

The Illustrated History, published in 1899, noted that the bank had flourished “and sells exchange throughout the United States and Europe.” By 1903, the bank had outgrown the old building, so they had a new one built. The partners also reorganized the bank company, increased its capital, and renamed it the Caldwell Banking & Trust Company.

Within a few years, the firm opened banks in St. Anthony (that town’s first), Glenns Ferry, and Paris. (Paris is about ten miles southwest of Montpelier, Idaho.) Two other banks were established in Oregon. A.K. himself had a fine mansion built in Caldwell for his growing family.

Commercial Bank of Caldwell, A.K. at rear window.
Steunenberg family archives.

Irrigation projects had always particularly interested A.K. and Frank: They invested in many ventures in the Boise Valley. For a time, A.K. was Treasurer of Caldwell’s Pioneer Irrigation District. They were also early investors in Ira Perrine’s central Idaho project. That eventually led to the construction of Milner Dam and the founding of Twin Falls [blog, May 7].

Then a traumatic event altered the course of A.K.’s life. He had never sought political office – serving on the Caldwell city council and once as mayor only when pressed to do so. Frank, however, progressed from the legislature to Idaho Governor, serving two consecutive terms in 1896-1900. During his second term, he incurred the wrath of the Coeur d’Alene miners’ union.

On December 30, 1905, a bomb planted by union hit man Harry Orchard murdered Frank at his own front gate. Orchard was quickly caught and persuaded to confess. (The linked “Idaho Meanderings: Steunenberg, Trial of the Century, Labor, Legal, Political History” blog specializes in information related to that event.)

A.K. and his brother had always been very close; they and their families shared important anniversaries and celebrations. A.K., like many Idahoans, held union leaders ultimately responsible for the assassination. He did everything in his power to see that they were brought to justice. Unfortunately, surely worn down by grief, Albert Keppel Steunenberg died in mid-March, 1907, at the age of 44.
                                                                                  

References: [Hawley], [Illust-State]

“[AK Steunenberg News],” Caldwell Tribune, Caldwell, Idaho; Idaho Statesman, Boise (July 1889 – March 1907).

J. Anthony Lukas, Big Trouble: A Murder in a Small Western Town … , Simon & Schuster (July 6, 1998).

Fur Trader David Thompson Builds Kullyspell House [otd 09/10]

David Thompson, artist’s rendering.
New World Encyclopedia.

On September 10, 1809, fur trader and geographer David Thompson selected a spot on Idaho’s Lake Pend Oreille to build a trading post for the British-Canadian North West Company.

He chose a site only a few miles from the mouth of the Clark Fork (12-14 miles across the lake from today’s Sandpoint). Thus, canoes, rafts, and other vessels could reach the post via the river or from any place on the lake. The structures his men assembled were the very first ever built by Anglo-Americans in the future state of Idaho. Thompson’s Narrative described the construction in a long paragraph. The roof proved adequate against rain, which would run off, but slowly melting snow tended to seep through. He wrote that, “the floors were of split Logs, with the round side downwords.”

London-born to Welsh parents in 1770, Thompson arrived in Canada at age 14, as an indentured apprentice to the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC). Toward the end of that apprenticeship, David was able to hone his skills in mathematics, navigation, and surveying.

Thompson quit the HBC in 1797, after HBC management ordered him to discontinue his survey work and focus on trading. He took a position with the rival North West Company. David’s new employers encouraged his surveying, which included verifying locations along the Canadian border with the United States.

In 1798, Thompson surveyed Turtle Lake, located about ten miles north of today’s Bemidji, Minnesota. He judged that a creek there could be considered the source of the Mississippi River, an important consideration in the boundary negotiations between the U. S. and Great Britain. His determination is now considered incorrect, but he was not off by that much. (And prior to that, no one really had any idea where the source might be.)

In 1804, Thompson was made a full partner in the North West Company. Word that U.S. President Thomas Jefferson had dispatched the Corps of Discovery to explore the Pacific Northwest spurred the Company to greater effort there. Starting in 1807, Thompson explored and surveyed west of the Divide – especially the Columbia River watershed. Kullyspell House was just one of several trading posts he built or helped establish in Idaho, Montana, Washington, and Western Canada.

Company management grew even more alarmed when they learned of plans by the American John Jacob Astor [blog, July 17] to exploit the fur riches of the Pacific Northwest. They declined a partnership offer from Astor, but apparently left the door open for further negotiations.

Early in the summer of 1811, Thompson headed east to Montreal; he needed a rest. Along the way, he received orders to go back and see what the Americans were up to. Oddly enough, he apparently gained the impression that Astor and the North West Company were, in fact, already partners. When Thompson reached the Pacific outlet of the Columbia in July, he found the Americans occupying a completed base at Astoria.

Astoria, 1813. Sketch by clerk Gabriel Franchère.

After examining Astoria and consulting with his (he thought) new partners, Thompson headed east to report. By then, Kullyspell House had proven to be a bust; too little income for its considerable upkeep. He closed it down and shifted the area’s operations to a newer post, Spokane House (9-10 mile northwest of today’s Spokane).

Thompson never returned to the West. Today, he is considered the greatest New World geographer ever. He surveyed roughly a fifth of the North American land area, and his maps remained a primary benchmark for over a century. He died in February 1857.
                                                                                                                                     

References: [B&W], [Brit]

Bob Gunter, “Kullyspell House,” Sandpoint.com (1998-2010).

James P. Ronda, Astoria and Empire, University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln (1990).

David Thompson, David Thompson’s Narrative, 1784-1812, Champlain Society, Toronto (1962).

Indians Attack Utter Wagon Train, Survivors Resort to Cannibalism [otd 09/09]

On September 9, 1860, a wagon train rumbled along the Oregon Trail, leaving its campsite on the western side of Castle Creek (about 30 miles west of today’s Mountain Home, Idaho). Most of the emigrants were from Wisconsin, and the nominal leader was Elijah P. Utter*.

Attack on circled wagons.
Retouched still shot from an old Western movie.

Having gotten a late start from the Midwest, the train was well behind the last of the “normal” groups when it reached the Fort Hall area. From there, a party of dragoons provided an escort as far as Rock Creek. There is some uncertainty as to why the troops returned east without waiting for the expected escort from further west. Whatever the case, a troop did not come to meet them for the simple reason that they thought the traveling season was over.

After leaving Castle Creek, the train turned northwest and ascended some high ground. An ominous cloud of dust turned into a mass of Shoshone and Bannock warriors, singing war songs. The emigrants circled the wagons and prepared to defend themselves, while the Indians screamed and waved blankets, trying to stampede the stock.

Heavy fire began on both sides, with the warriors riding around the enclosure, rousing great swirls of dust. Donald Shannon, who has researched the Utter disaster extensively, said in an Idaho Public TV interview, “This was one time that Hollywood sort of got it right.”

After an hour or so, the attackers drew off and signed for a parley: no harm done, we want to be friends … all we want is food. Caught far from water, the pioneers agreed and fed quite a few who entered the wagon circle. Then the Indians disappeared. The whites rolled out of their defensive position. Continuing along the Trail, they did not take the most obvious direct route to reach the river. The Indians reappeared, threatening the train from a distance.

Area of Utter Massacre. D.H. Shannon image.

The emigrants began their descent to the half-mile-wide plain that spread for over a mile along the river. Almost immediately, the Indians resumed their attack and killed three men. The whites struggled into a circle again, at a location far from water. This time the warriors pressed the attack. They continued into the evening, and then yelled and fired at any movement during the night.

After a second day of siege, the emigrants made a desperate attempt to break out. They left half the wagons behind for the Indians to loot, but that failed to entice all the attackers away. Only when the whites abandoned all the wagons and other possessions did the Indians cease their attacks.

If anything, the horrors suffered by the emigrants after that were worse, but the details are gruesome … and beyond the scope of this article.

In the end, 25 of the 44 people in the train died in the attack or from starvation later. Some unfortunates resorted to cannibalism to survive. Additionally, four children were abducted – three of them soon died and the other never returned to his family. No other Indian attack on the Oregon and California trails caused greater casualties and suffering.

* “Utter” was the preferred family spelling of this Germanic name. Many early accounts gave the name as “Otter,” which suggests that the Old World spelling was “Ütter.” The Ü (u-umlaut) is pronounced rather like the English “ou” or “oo.” (But not quite … my old-school German language teacher insisted on the proper, somewhat guttural sound.) Thus, people recording verbal accounts might perhaps be excused for writing it down as “Otter.”
                                                                                                                                     

References: [B&W], [Hawley]

Donald H. Shannon, The Utter Disaster On The Oregon Trail, Snake Country Publishing, Caldwell, Idaho (1993).

Daredevil Cyclist Evel Knievel Attempts Snake River Canyon Jump [otd 09/08]

On Sunday, September 8, 1974, motorcycle stunt rider Robert Craig (Evel) Knievel launched his jet-powered “Skycycle” across the Snake River canyon at a spot near Twin Falls, Idaho. Idaho was Evel’s second choice to the Grand Canyon. As a Sport Illustrated writer put it, the U.S. Park Service had “refused to grant him permission to kill himself on federal property.”

Knievel in the Snake River canyon.
Sport Illustrated cover.

Perhaps the most successful professional daredevil of all time, Robert was born in 1938, in Butte, Montana. A high school dropout, he picked up his nickname – originally “evil” – during a teenaged stint in jail for reckless driving. He relished the image, but later used the “Evel” spelling to distance himself from outlaw motorcycle vibes.

A gifted natural athlete, Knievel pursued several action sports, including pro rodeo, ice hockey, ski jumping, and motocross. He arranged what is said to be his first public motorcycle stunt in 1965. He tried a forty-foot jump over two mountain lions and a cage filled with rattlesnakes. His crash damaged the snake pen and sent some of the reptiles slithering toward the spectators. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, the show itself was apparently a resounding success.

So he decided to go into the motorcycle daredevil business. He tried it with a troupe for awhile, but went solo in the fall of 1966. As Knievel’s jumps – at county fairs, car shows, and other events – got longer, his fees slowly increased.

That was also when his string of injuries – some of them quite severe – began. Yet wild crashes and survivable (barely) injuries fueled his publicity campaign. Finally, on December 31, 1967, his spectacular jump over the Caesar’s Palace fountain, and equally flamboyant crash, won him national recognition: “the guy’s obviously nuts, but … Wow!”

After weeks of recuperation, Evel went right on jumping, earning larger and larger fees. Although he succeeded on the vast majority of his jumps, the ever-present element of danger attracted hordes of fans. And Knievel didn’t disappoint, mixing in enough crashes and injuries to set several Guinness World Records.

Evel’s fame reached “fever pitch” in the Seventies. His image graced everything from lunch boxes to tricked-out bicycles. Sensible people deplored the craziness. But all across the country, uncounted numbers of young boys tried to emulate his stunts with their bicycles, and many ended up in the hospital. The kids didn’t just not care how dangerous it was, they wanted it to be risky: “I can jump six trash cans.” [Not!]

Skycycle descending on its chute.
Evel Knievel Official Web Site.

Yet feeding such an image forced Knievel onto a treadmill. He needed a topper … like jumping the Grand Canyon. Rebuffed on that notion, Evel looked for another spot and finally chose the Twin Falls location: over 500 feet deep and a quarter mile wide, with scary drop-offs on both side.

Unfortunately, after a long build-up, he couldn’t pull off the jump. The Skycycle’s steam-powered takeoff started all right, but then his parachute deployed way too early. He almost made it across anyway, but ended up floating down into the canyon.

This spectacular misfire did no damage to Knievel image, and he continued to draw fans. Even when he stopped jumping himself in the late Seventies, his name drew crowds to the show starring his son Robbie. After something of a lull, he regained and then kept his marketability into the year of his death in late 2007.

Knievel is a member of the Motorcycle Hall of Fame and one of his motorcycles is on display at the Smithsonian. 
                                                                                                                                     

References: Stuart Barker, Life of Evel Knievel, St. Martin's Press (2008).

Owen Edwards, “Daredevil,” Smithsonian Magazine (March 2008).

Evel Knievel Official Web Site.

Steve Rushin, “Seeing All The Good In Evel,” Sports Illustrated (November 29, 1999).

Boise Banker, Businessman, and School Advocate Horace E. Neal [otd 09/07]

Boise businessman Horace Edwin Neal was born September 7, 1859 in Van Buren County, Iowa, about 100 miles southeast of Des Moines. He was still a small child when the family moved to a farm near the Missouri River in southeast Nebraska. Horace pieced together several years of college classes, taught school for three years, and then worked for several years in Kansas and eastern Colorado.

H. E. Neal. [Illust-State]

Horace and a younger brother, W. Scott Neal, moved to Boise in 1890 and started a business dealing in insurance and real estate. Scott continued with that business for many years, but in 1891 Horace became one of the founders of the Capital State Bank of Idaho. He served first as Assistant Cashier and then, in 1894, as Cashier, a job he held for over a decade.

Horace also had interests outside the bank. At the same time that company was founded, he helped open a chapter of the Young Men’s Christian Association, serving as the organization’s secretary. Unfortunately, that attempt only lasted three or four years before it dissolved. (A new, successful YMCA was formed in 1900, but Neal was then too busy with other activities to take part.)

After being first appointed as Boise City Treasurer in 1893, Neal was then elected to the position. He held the job through 1899. He was also Treasurer of the Independent School District of Boise City for awhile, and would remain a member of the Board of Trustees for many, many years. He and his wife (he married a Boise woman in 1893) were active members of the Methodist Church. Horace taught Sunday school and was at one time President of the state Sunday School Association.

Neal also branched out into other businesses, including investments in oil exploration, mining, a lumber company in Oregon, and a long-distance telephone service. In 1902, he and a group of investors formed the Fairview Investment Company, which successfully developed what is now known as the Fairview District of Boise.

In 1906, delegates at a National Irrigation Congress were given a tour of the Capital State Bank. They were greatly impressed, and knowledgeable observers proclaimed it to be one of the “great banking institutions of the West.” But trouble was brewing.

The details of the “Panic of 1907” are beyond the scope of this article. But the general loss of confidence in the U. S. financial system hit the Capital State Bank hard, and it failed to open for business on January 21, 1908. An independent auditor stated that the bank’s assets fully covered every depositor. But it would take time to convert those assets to cash, if need be; people must be patient. Sadly, that wasn’t good enough and the bank never opened its doors again.

Bank Run in New York, 1907. Library of Congress.

A scapegoat needed to be found. Officials soon arrested Neal, charging him with multiple counts of forgery. Eighteen months of expensive legal sparring followed before prosecutors admitted they had no case and dropped all charges against Horace. By the fall of 1909, he was back in the insurance and real estate business.

Neal also maintained his interest in the education of young people. He continued to serve on the school boards for the county as well as the Methodist Church. He was also Director of the Ada County Boys’ and Girls’ Clubs for a time. Although his company handled real estate loans, he never went back into the banking business.

Horace E. Neal passed away in February of 1932.
                                                                                                                                     

References:[Illustrated State]

Robert F. Bruner, Sean D. Carr, The Panic of 1907: Lessons Learned from the Market's Perfect Storm, John Wiley & Sons, Inc., New York (2007).

“[H. E. Neal News],” Idaho Statesman, Boise (April 1891 – February 1932).

W. C. Jenkins, “The Capital State Bank of Idaho,” The Irrigation Age, Vol. XXI, No. 11, Chicago, Illinois (September 1906).

The Copper Handbook: A Manual of the Copper Industry of the World, Vol. IX, Horace J. Stevens, Houghton, Michigan (1909).

Lumber (and Fire) in Pioneer Idaho

A few weeks back, I had to stock up on copies of my book Boise River Gold Country (thank you, Skip Myers). While I was flipping through books to make sure they were okay, one particular image stuck in my mind. (FYI: The book includes over 200 what I call “vintage” photos.) 

Whipsaw. University of Idaho Archives.

The image gives you a whole new perspective on what the pioneers went through. The two men are muscling a “whipsaw” back and forth through a log. (Sometimes they dug a pit to provide a more solid base than the log framework shown in the picture.) I assume these fellas would trade off. Who wants to be the guy on the bottom getting sprayed with sawdust and bark chips?

The earliest solid structures in pioneer Idaho were log cabins. But that’s wasteful of timber and it’s hard to make the structure weather-tight. Even after miners had been around for several years, sawmills were not that common because they needed a reliable source of water power. (Hauling a steam engine into the back country was pretty much out of the question for many, many years.) Also, even when a few mills went into operation, the demand was so great that lumber prices remained high, and men could still make money with a whipsaw.

So when you see an old photo of a cabin, shop, or even just a shed, imagine, if you will, how much sweat and effort went into whipsawing all that lumber. As a matter of fact, many of the early arrivers – Peter Pence, among others (blog Oct. 12) – got their first stake by cutting planks.

Lewiaron, 1862. Nez Pierce County Historical Soc.

All that raw lumber came at some risk. Idaho City suffered a bad fire in 1864, a worse one in 1866, and an even more destructive one in 1867. Other pioneer towns – including Boise City – suffered similar events.
                                                       

References: An Illustrated History of the State of Idaho, The Lewis Publishing Company, Chicago (1899). honor.