Alfred Arnold of Eckford Township

Alfred Arnold of Eckford Township

An old barn with a stone foundation is a good enough excuse to stop for a photo break. This one is in Eckford Township, Calhoun County, Michigan, on a road I had never ridden before when I came through here last May. Tonight I looked for information about the original owner. It seems this was [...]

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Land-looker

Land-looker

Hays did his own land-looking, but sometimes investors would hire others to do this field work for them. And maybe some actual settlers would hire a land-looker, but I’m not so sure about that part. If so, it would probably be as a guide. Most settlers would want to see the land in person before they’d buy. But investors back east would often need the services of a land-looker.

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Land-looking

Land-looking

She told of one of the practical jokes that was played during the Black Hawk war — one that was played on her by a local Anishinabe man. Her husband Andrew was a physician, not a farmer, and would have bought this land for investment purposes.

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James Fowle

James Fowle

Moscow would look even more like Sleepy Hollow if the decrepit general store building down at the bottom, on the right. was still standing. It was a building that crowded the road, and somehow made the place seem like it was of a different time. But it burned down 5 years ago, and has been replaced by a little convenience store back from the road. This was the first time I had been there since the old store was gone. I missed it, but do have a photo of it somewhere.

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Four generations of Whites

Four generations of Whites

Yesterday I speculated that the homeowner I met on last Saturday’s ride may have, when he was a boy, met the grandchildren of Reuben White, who had served in the militia during the 1832 Black Hawk war. There’s a good chance that I now know the names of those old people who would come to [...]

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Reuben White again

Reuben White again

Saturday on my way to Moscow I stopped here, across the road from the Convis township hall. It’s a place where I had stopped once before, on a Thanksgiving Day ride in 2006. I couldn’t remember the name of the person, a militia veteran of the Black Hawk war, who had farmed here years afterward, [...]

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