Gosh am I running late this year as here it is Christmas Eve day. I need to get a Christmas post on here and will borrow from previous years and add a little more as I go along.
The Christmas season in 1905 was tragically interrupted by Frank's assassination as was last year by the shootings at
Sandy Hook Elementary School (last years post).
Violence and intolerance continue in the world, including another
recent school shooting. Once again we are thinking of those so tragically impacted by such events, and our family past and present, friends, readers, military personnel and those less for
tunate
then us, be it they are in the U.S.A. or in the more dangerous and oppressive
parts of the globe. In the now ending year of 2013, we have remained
a nation and a government with deep divisions. However, Christmas and
the New Year bring eternal hope for a more tolerate and peaceful 2014...from
our family to yours.
This year I am resuming the now Christmas tradition of posting the excerpt below from
Big Trouble. As you may know, the passage regarding the family's' Christmas gathering at A.K. and Carrie
Steunenberg's house is a personal favorite. I had expanded on the excerpt two years ago and will add a bit more this time around. The passages from
Big Trouble are not necessarily in order of appearance in the book but I have tried to keep it chronologically correct.
In contrast to the joyous occasion at A.K's. and Carrie's home, I have ended with the more gruesome description of Frank's condition following the
bombing. I debated doing so as a holiday entry but those events occur in
juxtaposition for a reason. I decided to remain true to the intent of Lukas and the
message he was trying to convey.
I have left some related
links in the text and maintained a list of additional ones at the end.
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Belle Steunenberg |
From Big Trouble:
"The community's general air of well-being was reflected in the bustling jollity of
Caldwell's
holiday festivities, formally ushered in on Saturday, December 23,
with Christmas exercises at three downtown churches. The most
impressive were those at the Presbyterian Church, the house of worship
that attracted many of Caldwell's leading citizens. Belle
Steunenberg
had stood proudly among its founders, a teacher in its Sunday School, a
doyenne of the congregation, a community leader 'jeweled with
Christian graces,' until her inexplicable defection to
Caldwell's tiny eight-member Adventist Church
when it was inaugurated a year before—an act of such breathtaking
betrayal it had left a strong residue of resentment in the front pews."
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Gov. Frank Steunenberg |
"To assuage some of the bitterness among Belle's former congregation, the governor
still attended an occasional Presbyterian service, though without much
enthusiasm. He once confessed to a friend that 'his church attendance,
he feared, was prompted more by anticipation of an intellectual treat
than spiritual improvements.' He had to concede that the Presbyterians
knew how to put on a show. That Saturday, the adult choir's 'Joy to the
World' had been followed by songs from the youngest congregants,
including a solo by the governor's niece, Grace Van
Wyngarden,
still pale from her bout with typhoid; a 'Rock of Ages' pantomime by
Mrs. Stone's class, the young ladies dressed as the heavenly host, all
in gold and silver, with wings sprouting from their shoulders; and
finally the smallest child of all, Gladys Gordon, singing a 'rock-a-bye'
with the aplomb of a
prima donna and 'a clear, sweet voice that sounded to the roof.'"
"Then
a portly member, dressed as Santa Claus, pulled up in a sleigh and
taking his traditional position in the choir loft, delivered a gay,
bantering speech. 'Have all you children been good this year?' he asked
to squeals of affirmation. Descending to the foyer, Santa opened his
sack, tossing out green net bags tied up with crimson yarn, each
containing candy, nuts, and a bright golden orange. All this in the glow
of an admirable balsam—which the congregation's men had cut in the
crisp air of the
Owyhee Mountains—now
dressed out in cardboard angels and colored balls and illuminated this
year, for the first time, by genuine electric lights."
"For the next few days, he (
Harry Orchard)
tried to get a fix on the ex-governor's schedule. He didn't catch up
with him until Christmas day, when he saw him with his family on his
way to his brother
A.K. Steunenberg's house for the holiday dinner."
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AK & Carrie Steunenberg home. |
“At noon on
Christmas Day,
the governor and Belle attended the traditional family dinner at A.
K.’s house. The hustling young entrepreneur and his family occupied an
imposing Colonial Revival mansion, its great front portico supported
by three Tuscan columns, approached by a new cement sidewalk on North
Kimball Avenue, where the city’s 'quality' clustered in the lee of the
Presbyterian Church.”
"Although Frank, A.K. and their
wives certainly ranked among Caldwell's first families, they were less
self-assured than they appeared. In a town that had long cherished the
notion of unrestrained opportunity, the uncomfortable specter of
social class reared its head. When James Munro, a clerk in the
Steunenberg bank, married Estella
Cupp,
the eldest daughter of the town's most prominent real estate broker,
the Tribune called them 'the popular young society people'—a frank
recognition that a 'smart set' was coalescing in this nominally
egalitarian community. A Young Man's Dancing Club invited the socially
active young people to occasional soirees at Armory Hall."
"Some of Caldwell's new elite never quite felt they belonged.
During a prolonged stay in the nation's capital, Frank Steunenberg
shied away from the fashionable dinner parties to which he was
invited. 'Why,' he told a friend more eager than he to see how the
smart set lived, '
to accept one of these invitations means the wearing of an evening costume and what a pretty figure I would cut!'"
"A.K.
Steunenberg had a thick sheaf of credentials. But consider his reaction as a guest of Bob and
Adell Strahorn,
the most worldly members of Caldwell's inner circle, at their summer
home in northern Idaho. 'You can imagine my consternation when I
'butted' into a regular dress suit card party,' A.K. wrote his wife. 'I
was the only one who did not wear a white front and a claw hammer. And
to make matters worse they played a game called 500 I think I had never
played before. Being like a fish out of water anyhow that did not tend
to give me any reassurance...I sailed in and got through without
making any very bad breaks or spilling my coffee. The ladies were
perfectly lovely and seemed to try and relieve my embarrassment and I
guess the men did too...The main theme of conversation at the card
party was the help problem...not being able to procure help of any
kind.'"
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Bernardus Steunenberg |
“None of these insecurities could be detected
that Christmas afternoon as a gracious A.K. welcomed the boisterous
clan beneath his portico. No fewer than thirty
Steunenbergs gathered around the heavily laden table, headed by the
seventy-two year old patriarch, Bernardus,
a shoemaker by trade, a Mexican War veteran who’d come west from Iowa
to join his children earlier that year. Seven of his ten offspring
were there that afternoon: five sons—Frank; A.K.;
Pete, the most raffish of the brothers, a part-time printer who sometimes dealt cards at the
Saratoga; Will and John, lifelong bachelors and partners in a shoe store (“Fitters of Feet,” they called themselves) just behind the
Saratoga—and two daughters—
Elizabeth (“Lizzie”), married to Gerrit Van Wyngarden,
a Caldwell contractor who’d built both Frank’s house and the new
Caldwell Banking and Trust building, and Josephine (“Jo”), at
thirty-four still unmarried, who made a home for John, Will, and
Bernardus
at her commodious house on Belmont Street, while finding time to
repair Franks’ shirts as well. The “plump” and jolly” A.K. played Santa
at his own festivities, distributing elaborately wrapped gifts to all
the children.”
"The 'social event of the season' took place that night, a gala masquerade ball at Armory Hall, nest door to the Saratoga, attended by several hundred townspeople decked out in garish masks and costumes. 'Tailors in town did a booming business in rented evening wear of all kinds.
"'After it got dark, I (
Orchard)
went up to his residence and took a pump shotgun with me and thought I
would try to shoot him when he was going home...I was there an hour or
so before I heard him coming home, and he come soon after I got up
there but he got in the house before I got my gun together.'"
What
we now know would be the final family gathering on Christmas that
would include Frank, was fortunately not tainted by this bungled
assassination attempt on Christmas day—yes, even the ex-governor walking home with his family on Christmas day did not dissuade the beast from trying
to slay its pray. Of course, the family could never imagine that
this would be Frank's last Christmas at his brother A.K's, with only
five days until the tragic events on December 30th, 1905, when past assassination failures would finally end in a tragic and dastardly success.
"The night before the governor's walk had witnessed the season's grandest dinner party,
cohosted by Caldwell's social arbiter,
Queen Carrie Blatchley; William Judson Boone;
and their spouses for a group of refined young couples, including two
attorneys, an insurance agent, a pastor, and the manager of a lumber
company. 'Very pleasant,' Boone recorded in his diary. 'Fine time.'"
"Indeed,
to Boone, his guests, and many others, that winter in Caldwell seemed a
fine time and place to be alive. Despite its early dependency, there
lingered in town a fragile sense of autonomy—the notion that its
citizens controlled their own destiny....
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William J. Boone |
On that snowy night of the
governor's walk, Caldwell looked for all the world like the quintessential ninetieth-century American community, sufficient unto itself, proof against an uncaring world."
"The Reverend Mr. Boone and his wife had been entertaining their closest friends, the
Blatchleys, when they heard a "terrific" noise. They thought something had fallen on the roof."
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A walk with grandpa Julian |
"
Julian Steunenberg (my grandfather) and Will
Keppel (nephew of Belle/son of her brother Edward
Keppel) came running. A sturdy youth with a shock of blond hair, strikingly like his father in face and figure,
Julian had been particularly close to the governor.
He and Will had been strolling two blocks behind him when they felt the
explosion, then dashed with pounding hearts to Frank's side, where they
were quickly joined by
Garrit Van
Wyngarden, the governor's brother-in-law, who lived two blocks west on
Dearborn.
Together the trio tried to lift the grievously wounded man, but as they
did the flesh on his legs simply gave way. Finally, someone got a
blanket, into which they paced the governor, managing to carry him that
way into the house and lay him on a bed in his daughter's downstairs
bedroom."
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The exploded gate. |
Will Steunenberg
had just eaten supper and was back at his store arranging a display of
boots when the concussion spilled them on the floor. A minute later,
Ralph Oates rushed in to say
there'd been an explosion at Frank's house...When he reached the house, his brother had already been moved inside. Belle was lighting
kerosene
lamps to replace the electric ones, for the neighborhood's electric
power had been knocked out by the blast. Window on the north and west
side of the house had been shattered, as had those in other houses for
blocs around. Shards of glass littered the floors. A huge clock had
toppled from its shelf, striking
five-year-old Frank Junior, who'd been lying on the leather couch below."
"When
Will entered the front bedroom, it was 'horrible': the governor
writhing on the bed, his right arm hanging by a few shreds, his right
leg mangled, both legs broken at the ankles. He kept asking to have his
legs rubbed."
"Three of the town's doctors-John Grue, W.E.
Waldrop, and John A. Myer—had arrived. There was nothing they could do."
"Just
past 7:30 p.m., he gasped three or four times, like a man trying to
catch his breath, and muttered something unintelligible. As Will leaned
closer, trying to hear those last syllables, the governor sank back and
died. "
"'Frank died in my arms', Will wrote a sister in Iowa
, 'and I hope the fellow that killed him will die in my arms, only in a different manner.'"
—
Big Trouble by J. Anthony Lukas
Other Related Blog Links
Canyon Hill Cemetery
Assassination: Idaho's Trial of the Century on Public Television
12/31/1905 - Assassinated with a dynamite bomb (Footnote.com Spotlight)
Click here to see a blog post about the home of A.K. and Carrie Steunenberg.
Click here to see the 1880 Census entries for the Steunenberg family.
Google Street View of A.K. Steunenberg home (give it a minute to load).