Migrating to Michigan Read online

  Owen’s eyes got really big. “People were killed chopping down trees? No way!”

  “Way,” answered Professor Tuesday. “Those trees were very tall and very heavy. Did you feel the ground shake when it fell?”

  We nodded our heads silently.

  Mister Adams gestured to the professor in sign language. The professor watched closely, then spoke, “Mister Adams wants to know what the farmers were growing in the field.”

  He thought for a while, trying to remember exactly what the farm field looked like. “I think they were growing celery, but I can’t be sure. Dutch farmers usually grew crops like celery and onions. The soil in the Holland area is rich with silt from the river systems, making it good for producing crops for food and trade.”

  “The man we saw on the path said he bought some food, tools, and some fishing hooks,” I said. “Didn’t his crops do well?”

  “Not necessarily,” answered the professor. “He may have just started his farm. Some families lived in huts or shelters made from tree branches while they cleared enough land for a farm, just like in Frankenmuth and other settlements. The winters were much colder and windier in Michigan than in the Netherlands, which made life in the New World very difficult for the Dutch. They needed to trade for some items and the closest place to trade was Grand Rapids … a distance of twenty miles or more.”

  “He walked all that way?” asked Owen.

  “Yes, he did,” said the professor. “Most early immigrants didn’t own horses, so they walked wherever they needed to go.”

  Mister Adams made the sign that he was hungry.

  “I am hungry, too,” said the professor. “Let’s talk over lunch. I’ve written down some notes that you may want to include in your report. Bring your journals and pencils—this will be fun.”

  Foreign Food

  The University Cafeteria—Today

  It was a nice walk from the professor’s office to the university cafeteria. It wasn’t as windy as Holland or as cool as Frankenmuth. Though Rachel kept sniping at Owen, I was enjoying myself. I also enjoyed being around Mister Adams. He is one funny little dude.

  My thoughts were interrupted when Owen sneezed, “AH-H-H-CHOO!” Then he said, “Excuse me.”

  “Bless you,” said the professor.

  “See, Professor,” Rachel said, “Owen is always tripping and sneezing and stuff.”

  “I think Owen said it best,” added the professor, “nobody’s perfect.” The professor rubbed Owen’s head.

  At the cafeteria we each took a tray. “I’m treating everyone to lunch today,” said the professor kindly. “Choose whatever you’d like as long as it is healthy.”

  The cafeteria had a special island with just Mexican food. That’s Owens favorite kind of food. I went to the pasta bar because I love Italian food. Rachel got some Chinese stir-fry. The professor had his usual lunch, a tuna fish sandwich cut in two and two hard-boiled eggs. Mister Adams ordered a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich on toast and a big, juicy dill pickle. Everything looked very good, and we were all hungry. As we were picking out our lunches, I thought about one of the wonderful things that immigrants have given us—different kinds of food.

  We all took a seat at a table at the back of the cafeteria. The table was by a window that looked over the university campus. It was nice and quiet, perfect for having a pleasant talk.

  Before Owen started eating, he said, “Thank you for lunch, Professor.”

  Mister Adams said “thank you” in sign language.

  “Yes, thank you,” I added. When Rachel didn’t say anything, I kicked her leg under the table.

  “Oh, yah, thanks Professor,” Rachel added.

  “You’re all very welcome.”

  Before Mister Adams started to eat his sandwich, the professor took a knife and sliced his nephew’s pickle. What happened next almost made Rachel and me hurl. Mister Adams took his sandwich apart and put pickle slices on top of the peanut butter and jelly.

  “Is he really going to eat a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich with pickles on it?” Rachel asked as she scrunched up her face.

  “Yuck,” I said.

  Then Owen spoke up, “I’d be willing to give it a try.”

  The professor just chuckled and said, “To each his own.”

  As we munched on our food, the professor asked us questions. “What things were the same in the German and Dutch settlements we visited?”

  “Well,” Owen said between bites of his taco, “both had farms and farmers.”

  “That’s true,” said the professor as he peeled one of his eggs. “Farming was and is an important job. Early settlers relied on farming plus fishing and hunting for their food. The Germans grew common crops that were big parts of their diets, like beets, potatoes, and cabbage. The Dutch tended to grow specialty crops that could be used for trade, like celery and onions. What immigrants couldn’t make, grow, shoot, or catch, they had to get through trade or purchase.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “That one Dutch guy had to walk all the way to Grand Rapids and back just to pick up a few supplies. I don’t think I could do that.”

  The professor agreed. “There weren’t grocery stores nearby like we have today, so farming was a common job for immigrants for many, many years.”

  “So,” Rachel noted, “the immigrants who first came to Michigan were all farmers?”

  “Not all,” said the professor. “Some were also craftsmen and shopkeepers. Opening up a new territory or a state offered plenty of opportunity for people who were willing to work hard and build a business. Though not all immigrants were successful, many were able to make a good living.”

  The professor took a bite of his tuna fish sandwich and continued, “So, what other things were the same with the two communities?”

  “Both of them immigrated to Michigan for religious reasons,” Rachel said smartly.

  Mister Adams pointed one finger up, and another toward her, then brought them together.

  “Mister Adams says you are right,” the professor noted. “Very good, Mister Adams, and very good, Rachel, you are correct. Both the Dutch and the Germans did move to Michigan for religious reasons. The Germans moved to Frankenmuth in order to be missionaries to the Chippewa Indians. The Dutch established a home in Holland, Michigan, in order to preserve their religion and culture.”

  We ate silently for a while. Mister Adams was making yummy sounds as he enjoyed his sandwich. The crunching sound the pickle made as he bit into his peanut-butter-and-jelly and pickle sandwich made me shiver. He was wearing a big streak of jelly on his face. The professor took a napkin and gently wiped his nephew’s face.

  “Any other similarities?” the professor asked.

  Owen spoke up once again, “There were lots of big trees in both places. And, it looked like they had to be cut down to make room for farms and buildings.”

  “Right you are,” said the professor. “In those days Michigan looked very different than it does today. Very large, old trees covered much of the state.”

  “What happened to them?” I asked.

  “Almost all of those trees were cut down during the lumbering era in Michigan,” answered the professor. “The hardwood trees in the Holland and Grand Rapids area—such as oak, maple, and walnut—were important to establish Grand Rapids as a city known for furniture building.

  “What’s a lumbering era?” Rachel asked.

  “From about the mid-1800s until the early 1900s, lumber companies in Michigan hired thousands of immigrants to cut down trees and saw the tree trunks into lumber. These trees were used to build houses and furniture.”

  Professor Tuesday drew a mitten shape on a piece of paper. “Imagine that this is the Lower Peninsula of Michigan,” the professor said. Then he drew a line from the basin of Saginaw Bay over somewhere toward Muskegon. “Land south of this line is mostly made up of good, fertile soil that is useful for farming. Hardwood trees grew mostly in this southern area of the Lower Peninsula. The northern part o
f the Lower Peninsula and the entire Upper Peninsula of Michigan are made up of mostly sandy soil that isn’t ideal for farming. But, it is very good for growing pine trees.”

  Without another word, the professor stood up and left the table. When he returned, he was carrying big bowls of ice cream with fudge sauce, one for each of us. Mister Adams clapped his hands in delight. We all said thanks one more time before digging into the treats.

  “Now, where was I?” asked the professor. “Oh, yes, I was talking about the lumbering era. The best trees for building were pines. The most valuable of all the trees were white pines. Some called them cork pines because the best trees floated like corks in the river. Most of these beautiful trees have been gone from Michigan for some time. But, you can find out more about them at Hartwick Pines State Park, north of Grayling, Michigan.” Professor Tuesday thought for a moment. “Maybe we should see some of the lumbering era immigrants this afternoon.”

  Then the professor turned to Mister Adams. “Before I forget, I just want to say how proud I am of Mister Adams for paying attention and not wandering off during our last trip back in time.” The professor patted his nephew on the head, “Thank you, you were very good.”

  Mister Adams said “you’re welcome” in sign language.

  The professor finished the last of his tuna fish sandwich in two bites and then asked another question. “We talked about things that were the same, what were some of the things that were different between the two settlements?”

  “They spoke different languages,” Owen said.

  “Duh,” Rachel replied, “no kidding.”

  “Owen made a good point,” said the professor. “Though the Dutch and German languages can sound somewhat similar, they aren’t the same. There are even different words and manners of speech within each language.” The professor paused for a moment. “Were there any other differences in the two colonies?”

  “The Dutch colony had a school, we didn’t see one in Frankenmuth,” Rachel said, as she read through her journal notes.

  “The German community did build a school in connection with the church very soon after the settlement was established,” noted the professor. “Did you notice anything else?”

  “I know! I know!” Owen said excitedly. “We saw Native Americans near Frankenmuth. But the man on the path near Holland said they didn’t have many native people. That’s a difference, isn’t it?”

  The professor jumped up from the table and danced around. “Very, very good! There were Native Americans living near Frankenmuth … mostly Chippewa Indians. However, very few native people lived near Holland. Do you know why?”

  Owen and Mister Adams shrugged and shook their heads.

  “In 1821 three tribes, the Potawatomi, Chippewa, and the Ottawa signed a treaty in which they gave up their claims to all land in Michigan south of the Grand River. In exchange for their land, the Native American tribes were paid $5,000 a year for twenty years. Plus, they were given $1,000 a year for a blacksmith and a teacher.”

  “So, the Grand River is north of Holland?” I asked. “That’s why they didn’t see Native Americans very often.”

  “Right,” said the professor. “We’ve all learned a lot today. Are you ready for some more?”

  “Yes!” Owen, Rachel, and I shouted together. Mister Adams made a fist with his hand then bent his wrist up and down.

  “That means yes,” the professor said with a wide smile. “It sounds like we should get back to our work. I can’t wait to show you the next stop on our journey.”

  I was excited to hear that.

  The Irish in Michigan

  Mackinac Island—August 1840

  When we got back to the professor’s office, he had to take a phone call.

  “Yes, Sweetie Pie,” said the professor. “Everything’s just fine. No. No. Yes. He’s just fine. Well, yes, I did have to give him a talking to about wandering off, but he is safe and doing well. We are having a wonderful time together. Alright, I will see you this evening. Goodbye.”

  “Was that your wife?” Rachel asked.

  “Heaven’s no,” said Professor Tuesday, “that was Mister Adams’s mother.”

  “But you called her Sweetie Pie,” Owen said.

  The professor looked confused. “I called her that because that’s her name … Sweetie Pie.”

  “So you are telling us that Mister Adams’s mother is named ‘Sweetie Pie’?” I asked.

  “Why, yes,” said the professor.

  “Your family has some weird names, Professor,” Owen said.

  Professor Tuesday laughed out loud, “I guess we do at that.”

  Rachel played tic-tac-toe with Mister Adams while the professor prepared for our next visit into history. Mister Adams won every game. Rachel wasn’t very happy about that. She likes to win. Owen was looking at a book about the Finns in Michigan. As he read the book, his lips moved with every word. That bugged Rachel, too.

  Professor Tuesday’s glasses slipped to the end of his nose. As he tapped away at his keyboard, he stopped for a moment, then he looked up. “Owen, Rachel, Jesse,” he asked, “did you bring jackets?”

  “My mother put a jacket in my backpack,” Rachel said. “It’s supposed to rain this afternoon.”

  Owen shuffled over to his backpack and started fishing around inside of it. “Yah, I’ve got one.”

  I showed the professor my jacket. “Why did you ask if we had jackets?”

  “We’ll be heading to northern Michigan, and it’s usually colder there than it is here.”

  Professor Tuesday made one last keystroke, then hit the ENTER key on his laptop. The Tuesday Teleporter started its display of light and sound. Then the green cloud formed at the end of the professor’s desk.

  Before we stepped into the past, Professor Tuesday turned to his nephew. “Mister Adams, I talked to your mother a few minutes ago. She told me that if you are extra good this afternoon, she’ll make you spinach for dinner.”

  Mister Adams got all excited. He started jumping up and down, clapping his hands.

  “Euw-w-w-w,” Rachel squealed, “spinach. I hate spinach. He loves peanut-butter-and-jelly and pickle sandwiches, and he actually likes spinach.”

  Professor Tuesday lifted his glasses slightly. “Spinach is very good for you. Mister Adams loves it. Spinach is a special treat for him.”

  “He can have my share,” Owen said. “I don’t like it either.”

  “We’re going to visit some immigrants who left their homeland to come to Michigan because they were starving. They would have been happy to eat spinach, even if they didn’t like it,” said the professor. He adjusted our translators before we put them on our ears. “Put your jackets on before we go.”

  I felt sick to my stomach as I tumbled over and over through time. I thought to myself, “Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this right after eating all that spaghetti.” But, before long, we were standing on a beach. It didn’t look like the sandy beaches I visit when my family goes on vacation up north. The edge of the water was dotted with big rocks for as far as I could see.

  The wind coming off the water was very cold. My teeth began chattering. I was glad the professor told us to wear our jackets. Gulls drifted in the wind above us squawking loudly. Birds dove into the water for fish. Off in the distance, boats bobbed in the blue waves.

  Professor Tuesday took a look at his compass and pointed down the shoreline. “Let’s go this way,” he said.

  We picked our way through the rocks. Owen stopped now and then to skip stones on the water. Mister Adams seemed to enjoy watching him. The professor’s nephew even tried to skip a stone himself. But it just went KERPLUNK into the icy cold water.

  “What is it with boys?” Rachel asked to no one in particular. “Why do they always have to throw rocks?”

  Owen didn’t even bother answering Rachel. He just kept pitching rocks into the lake.

  “Where are we, professor?” I asked.

  Professor Tuesday stopped and turned to answe
r. “We are on Mackinac Island in 1840. I’d like to visit some Irish immigrants. You’ll notice that there aren’t any fudge shops, T-shirt stores, or high-powered ferry boats. But, the island has been a popular vacation spot even before 1840, just as it is in our time.”

  As we rounded a point on the island, a beautiful harbor stretched out ahead of us. We could see several boats pulled up on shore. Men were climbing in and out of the boats. They were working on something. Professor Tuesday stopped so we could watch.

  The workers lifted heavy nets out of the boats. They pulled fish from the nets and threw them into large buckets on the shore. The air smelled like fish and pine trees. We turned away from the harbor and began walking up a road. Businesses and homes lined both sides of the street. A huge fort sat at the top of a big hill outside of town.

  The professor was going to make a point about something when he looked around. His face told me that he was scared.

  “Where’s Mister Adams?” asked the professor.

  “Where’s Owen?” Rachel asked.

  “The last time I saw them, they were skipping stones and throwing rocks into the lake. Maybe they fell into the water,” I said.

  Professor Tuesday ran back to where we began our journey on Mackinac Island. We looked high and low in and around the water. Owen and Mister Adams were nowhere to be found. We shouted their names, but no one called back.

  It was time to start worrying again.

  Finding Friends

  Mackinac Island—August 1840

  After we searched the area where the two of them had been, we headed back toward the harbor. As we passed some fishing boats, we saw them. They were standing near the shore next to one of the big buckets of fish.

  Owen and Mister Adams looked up as we walked toward them. “Professor,” Owen said excitedly, “did you see the size of these fish? They’re huge! I’ve never caught one so big. Shucks, I’ve never even seen fish this big.”