Charles August Manaige was born Dec. 7, 1847 in Madison, Wisconsin. His father, Pierre Manaige, was a native of France, and his mother was a part-Winnebago, or Ho-Chunk Indian.
Charles and his family came to Minnesota in the early 1840s. His father was an interpreter for the government, sent to avoid bloodshed and disputes in the territory. The Winnebagos first settled at what is now Long Prairie in Todd County. Charlie remembered that he never had seen a white man, except his father, until he was about six years old. Charlie spent his childhood with other Winnebago children, sharing games such as ball play and becoming proficient as a hunter with bow and arrow.
On Jan. 25, 1846, wearing high-heeled boots to give him the required height, Charles enlisted in the U.S. Army. He served as a private in Company F, First Regiment, Minnesota Heavy Artillery under the command of Captain Hugh J. Owens. Eight months later, on Sept. 27, 1865, Charles was honorably discharged in Nashville, Tennessee.
After the war, Charlie farmed near St. Clair and later operated a butcher shop. He also spent some time at Mankato.
As a young man, he visited the Shakopee vicinity frequently, and on July 30, 1870, Charles A. Manaige married Pelagie Eliza Faribault.
They lived in Shakopee for the rest of their lives.
“Charles A. Manaige and his wife, Eliza Faribault Manaige lived across the street from the Mill Pond, a famous gambling place on First Avenue in the 1920s. Charles was Ho-Chunk Indian, and Eliza was part Dakota. And they were not too thrilled about what happened across the street. You see that big building over there,” said Charles’s granddaughter, Florence Kelm, as she pointed to the sprawling Mill Pond across the road. “That is a tavern, and at night it gets very noisy, and people came outside and make nuisances of themselves.
“People used to come over on our land and lie on the grass. They broke bottles against our trees and threw things at our house. They called us ‘Indians’ and did many things to taunt us. We are Indians, you know, that is, we have Indian blood.
“Grandfather went to the village authorities, and asked if we couldn’t have some protection, as there were little children at his house … but because we were Indians—we didn’t get any help!”
Florence remembered Charles put a fence up, but “the people broke it down each time he put it up.”
Charles decided, “So, I will take the law into my own hands! I am not going to have those drunken bums lying on my green, green grass; I’m not going to have those drunken bums leaning against my beautiful trees; I’m not going to have them polluting the pure water of our creek. They are going to keep off our property!”
And so, Charles used to sit under the tree with a shotgun across his knees and threaten anyone who came near from the tavern side of the property!
Charles Manaige worked for a number of years in Shakopee as a painter and paperhanger and also served in the police force.
A familiar figure, Charlie was endeared to young and old. The old veteran, riding in his horse-drawn carriage, made daily trips from his home at the east part of the city to do the family shopping. No matter the weather, Charlie still would visit downtown Shakopee. Not so many years back, Charlie could be seen morning, noon, and later afternoon, with his grandchildren seated beside him in the carriage, going and coming from the grade school. The duty was one of his greatest pleasures, and the pleasure was vividly recorded on his beaming face.
Charles and Pelagie had four children, two sons and two daughters. Isabelle was born in 1871 and married Harvey Randolph Leach in Des Moines, Iowa. They had nine children. Melvin was born in 1872 and died April 12, 1931. He married and lived in Brooklyn, New York. Eugene Curtis was born 1874 and died of tuberculosis in 1903. Grace was born in 1876 and died at Friendship Manor in November 1966.
Charles, at 82 years old, became the Paul Revere of Shakopee in December 1929. He was driving in town in his horse and buggy when he heard the opening volley of shots happening at the First National Bank. Hightailing the old mare up the main street in Shakopee, he gave the alarm. He kept shouting, “Hey…the bank is being held up. Everybody, get out your guns.” Charlie was in grave danger of being hit by the barrage of bullets that swept the main street, but he still continued his heroic dash.
Two months before he died, Pelagie died. Since that time, Charlie had a severe cold, which developed into pneumonia. For several days he was confined to his bed at home, and as his condition became critical, he was moved to the Veteran’s Hospital in Minneapolis, where he died.
Charles A. Manaige, Shakopee’s 91-year-old Civil War veteran, the sole surviving member of General Shield’s Post of the Grand Army of the Republic, died in January 1938. His funeral was at St. Mary’s Catholic Church, with Fr. Michael McRaith officiating. Interment was at the Valley Cemetery beside his wife, Pelagie Faribault Manaige. Most businesses were closed during the funeral as Shakopee saluted the old soldier.
Eleanor Gates was born Sept. 26, 1874, in Eagle Creek Township, which is now part of Shakopee. Her father was William Cummings Gates, and her mother was Margaret Ann Archer. Eleanor was an American playwright who created seven plays that were staged on Broadway. Her best-known work was the play The Poor Little Rich Girl.
Eleanor remembered growing up in Eagle Creek, Shakopee, and Dakota Territory, and she later described her early life in her novel The Biography of a Prairie Girl, which she wrote in 1902:
“Up and down the oxen toiled before the plow, licking their tongues, as they went along, for wisps of the sweet, new grass which the old-board was turning under. After them came the biggest brother, striving with all his might to keep the beam level and the handles from dancing as the steel share cut the sod into wide, thick ribbons, damp and black on one side, on the other green and decked with flowers.
“And, following the biggest brother, trotted the little girl, who from time to time left the cool furrow to run ahead and give the steers a lash of the gad she carried, or hopped to one side to keep the stepping with her bare feet upon the fat earthworms that were rolled out into the sunlight, where they were pounced upon by rivaling blackbirds circling in the rear.”
Gates remembered growing up in Shakopee and the Dakota Territory. “I do not exaggerate the somber side of prairie life, nor do I exaggerate the joys,” Gates is quoted as saying in newspaper articles. “I believe that the country child grows old sooner than the city child, because the country child often does manual labor of a heavy kind when he or she is not physically able to do it. The plainswoman is frequently gray and worn at thirty-eight or forty; the plainsman is often bent, impaired in sight by the sun, and old at forty-five. I do not say that this is always so, but it is commonly so.”
When she was a young girl, she moved to the Dakota Territory. From there, Eleanor moved to California for college. Gates married another playwright, Richard Walton Tully, in 1901 after they had both completed their studies at the University of California, in Berkeley.
Gates had worked initially as a writer for a newspaper in San Francisco, as well as writing novels. In 1907, one of her novels was illustrated by Arthur Rackham. Her best-known work was the play The Poor Little Rich Girl, which was produced by her husband in 1913. Tully divorced her in 1914 citing desertion, which Gates admitted.
Before Gates’s divorce had been finalized, she married another divorcé, Frederick Ferdinand Moore, in Paterson, New Jersey, in October 1914. In 1916 they separated when they both realized that they were not legally married.
At the beginning of 1915, Gates founded the Liberty Feature Film Company, which was said by Motion Picture News to be the only film company to be owned and managed by women. The company was led by the wife of an Alaskan businessman, Sadir Lindblom. In the year that it existed the company created several two-reel films.
The first film, produced in 1917, was The Poor Little Rich Girl, which starred Mary Pickford. Shirley Temple starred in the 1936 remake of the same name. The new film had made two million dollars by the end of 1939.
Eleanor Gates died March 7, 1951, at Los Angeles County General Hospital. But she is remembered as a writer from Eagle Creek Township in Shakopee!
According to Florence Leach, granddaughter of Pelagie Eliza Faribault Manaige, three Dakota Indians who were killed in the Battle of Shakopee in 1858 are buried near the house and close to the orchards. “The graves are flat, and you cannot see them. Grandfather Faribault buried them and concealed the graves so the Chippewa would not find the bodies and scalp them. We were traders and friendly to all Indians.”
An Indian girl was also buried there. According to Florence, “Grandmother said this girl was a very fine horsewoman, and one day she was on horseback and racing across the fields with a group of young men. The girl was in the lead, but she turned in her saddle to see how far ahead she was, and to wave to the men, when her horse stumbled and she was thrown and broke her neck. She died, and they buried her here.” Florence also recalled that Pelagie Eliza Faribault Manaige, her grandmother, remembered that the girl had bracelets on her wrists. “I know these Indians are buried here because when I was a little girl, my brother and I started to dig into the graves to see if we could find the bracelets. We did not think it was wrong, for we were just little children.”
“Grandmother caught us digging, and she was so worried that she called the priest. He told her not to worry, we had done no harm; but just a few years later we tried it again, and uncovered bones. It scared us because we hadn’t believed anyone was really buried there. Of course, Grandmother found us, covered the hole, and she was frightfully upset; again she called the priest, and he comforted Grandmother. We all went out to the graves, and he said a little prayer.”
“Then the priest told Grandmother he didn’t think those Indians minded our digging for them one bit, as long as we were only trying to find out if they were really there. Now, the priest felt sure our curiosity was satisfied, and we would let them rest in peace.”
(Some information from Marian Winter story for the Sibley House Historic Site.)
William Louis “Bill” Quinn was born near Coldwater Springs near Fort Snelling, Minnesota on November 4, 1828. His father was Peter Quinn, who was an Irish immigrant who married Ineyahwin, also known as Mary Louisa Finley, who was a mixed-blood Christeneauz (Cree) Indian. Therefore, William was half Cree by blood.
When Bill was 20 years old, he married a half-blood Dakota woman, Angelique Jeffries, of the Mdewakanton band in 1848. By 1856, the couple had three children, all of which were one-quarter Dakota. Bill was fluent in Chippewa, Dakota, English, and perhaps other languages. At various times he was a clerk, a scout for the army, and an interpreter. Bill was employed as a clerk in the Indian trade for many years.
In the spring of 1851, Thomas A. Holmes employed Bill as a guide. They packed for one week, and Bill had already decided on two possible places for a town. They ascended the Minnesota River and cooked a meal in a hollow near the old Dakota Indian village of Tiŋta-otoŋwe. Thomas and Bill looked the place over, and climbed the bluffs north of the settlement, and Thomas was even more impressed. They decided to continue up the river to Le Sueur. But soon Thomas and Bill returned to the first landing, and deemed it the more favorite place to locate. And so Thomas Holmes picked the area near Tiŋta-otoŋwe, and called the area Holmes Landing. It was here that Thomas built a trading post for the Dakota Indians in Tiŋta-otoŋwe (which was close by where today is Sommerville Street, and continued until beyond Memorial Park.)
One interesting story about William Louis Quinn happened a few years later.
In 1862, Bill and his family were at the Yellow Medicine Agency, where he worked in William Forbes’ store. In 1862-1865 he was a scout, guide, and messenger. Bill was chief of scouts at Fort Wadsworth from 1867-1870. For 30 years, starting in 1870, Bill was immersed in learning, documenting, and providing testimony about the genealogy of Dakota mixed-bloods. In an article written in 1901, Knute Steenerson discussed his experience of being a pioneer. He had a saloon in the village of Lac que Parle. “I sold whiskey by the drink, pint, quart, and gallon. Along in the winter came a half-breed from St. Paul. He had driven up by team—there was no railroad at that time—and he was going to Big Stone Lake, he said, to buy scrip from the Indians.” Scrip allowed the holder to appropriate about 480 acres of land not already occupied for people who were half-Dakota.
“His name was Bill Quinn. He had seventeen hundred dollars in cash in his pocket book. He came into my saloon often and treated the crowd, no matter how many there were or how few. He would throw a five-dollar bill on the counter and did not want any change. When I gave him change back, he would throw it on the dirty floor and tramp on it. So I learned after a while to please him and never gave him change, but slipped the bill into the money drawer and set up the drinks. This pleased him entirely.”
“So he proceeded on to Big Stone Lake and in about a week or ten days he was back again. He brought his son and his son’s sweetheart with him. They were pretty good-looking half-breed Indians. He said he had caught them wild on an island in Big Stone Lake and wanted to ‘buckle them up’ and marry them. So he bought ten gallons of whiskey and ten gallons of cherry brandy. I was invited to the wedding, which was held at the house of a French squaw man, who lived down the river a few miles. The next thing was to send for a justice of the peace to ‘buckle them up,’ as he said.” Knute continued, “A New England Yankee was sent for. His name was Mr. Stowell, and he performed the ceremony. But Mr. Quinn was in such a hurry that he sang out between drinks, ‘buckle them up, buckle them up,’ and then again he would jig and laugh. Well, after it was done Quinn said he was so glad that they were ‘buckled up.’”
“We had a good time at the wedding. Some were drinking, some dancing, and others talking. It was a sort of cosmopolitan gathering. There were Dakota Indians talking with the lady of the house around the cook stove. There were the squaw man and old Bushma taking French. There were Fritz and Rosenbaum talking German. There were Ole Olson and John Johnson talking Norwegian. They were all enjoying a trot sling and conversation between themselves, while Bill Quinn was dancing with a glass in his hand, to the music of the violin played by the half-breed, Joe Laframboise. A more pleasant and jolly time I have never enjoyed.”
(From Knute Steenerson’s Recollections The Story of a Pioneer, Minnesota History Magazine, Vol. 4, Issue 3-4, 1921, pg. 130-151.)
Timothy Canty came to Shakopee as an employee of Thomas A. Holmes. Some said that Timothy came on the flat boat Wild Paddy in the fall of 1851, though others think he arrived a short time later. He came to file on a tract of 80 acres granted him by the government because of his involvement in the Mexican-American War, also known as the Invasion of Mexico.
The Mexican-American War (1846-1848) marked the first U.S. armed conflict chiefly fought on foreign soil. It pitted a politically divided and militarily unprepared Mexico against the expansionist-minded administration of U.S. President James K. Polk. Polk believed the United States had a manifest destiny to spread across the continent to the Pacific Ocean. A border skirmish along the Rio Grande started off the fighting. It was followed by a series of U.S. victories. When the dust cleared, Mexico had lost about one-third of its territory, including nearly all of present-day California, Utah, Nevada, Arizona and New Mexico.
Timothy was born in Lower Canada, and came to the eastern part of the United States at an early age. He was in the Mexican-American War, and was in many of the battles, including Cerro Gordo, Buena Vista, and Vera Cruz. After working with Thomas A. Holmes in Shakopee, he worked on the steamboats, including Greek Slave and Pocahontas.
Tim married Margaret O’Keefe in St. Paul in 1851. When the Civil War arrived, he wanted to go, but Tim couldn’t leave his wife. His wife lost her sight, and was blind at that time, so Tim stayed to be near his wife.
Timothy was dressed in keeping with his manner of living, and his ways and his philosophy was simple, direct, unassuming, and not given to boasting. He did reminisce occasionally about his experience in the Mexican American War, and when General William Tecumseh Sherman became prominent in the Civil War, Canty recalled that he had served under Sherman when Sherman was in the American forces in Mexico.
Tim, as he was called, even went so far one day as to assert that he knew Sherman well. “He’s a fine officer and a real man,” he observed to a group of settlers in Guyermann’s store in downtown Shakopee. Tim had been there to purchase his weekly supply of groceries. Many of the settlers felt that Timothy was exaggerated a bit, and that he didn’t know the great Sherman as well as he claimed. They often asked again and again, but Tim made little comment.
One day the news brought up the Minnesota River from St. Paul said that Sherman was making a tour of the west, and would pass through Shakopee. It happened in the late 1860s. When the news of the impending visit was announced, there was great excitement.
“Where’s Canty?” some of the settlers asked. “He ought to be here, since he claims Sherman knows him so well.” When Timothy was told, he didn’t say much. A few of the townspeople hinted that Tim couldn’t make good with his claim.
Finally, the day of the general’s visit arrived. Homesteaders and city residents formed quite a sizable crowd. Along noon a cloud of dust was seen down the trail. “Here they come!” someone shouted.
Presently the stage came into view, drawn by four large horses. The driver swung around the corner at Strunk’s Drug Store and stopped with a flourish. A cheer arose and General William Tecumseh Sherman put his head out of a window to acknowledge the greeting. His eyes roved over the crowd as he spoke. Suddenly, he stopped and the watchers saw his attention was riveted on a man in the rear of the crowd. Timothy Canty was there, having come to Shakopee to get his scythe sharpened. He was still carrying the scythe.
“Hello Tim!” Sherman called. “Don’t you remember me?” Tim came forward and shook hands. For some time their hands were clasped and the embarrassed settlers who had doubted Tim’s claim saw tears welling in the eyes of the two veterans – the general of all the armies and the humble homesteader.
“I want to congratulate you on your success in the later war, General,” Tim faltered.
“Thank you, Tim,” said Sherman. “Say, do you remember that big black horse I had in Mexico? Wasn’t he a dandy?” Then the general grew serious. “How is the world treating you, Tim, my boy?”
“Fine, General, fine,” said Timothy. “I have a good maple homestead and a wife and boy out here a ways.”
“That’s good. Take care of yourself,” Sherman called as he resumed his seat to continue the journey. After short remarks to the crowd, General Sherman’s coach was again on its way.
The crowd melted slowly and silently, and several went to find Tim, who had disappeared. But when Tim arrived back to Shakopee later, the reception was wholly different. The settlers were inclined to look with awe on the man who had been so intimate with Sherman. It was reported that this feeling never did wear off entirely, and persisted even until Timothy’s death in 1885.
(Some information from Timothy Canty Typical Pioneer: Father of Local Man was Personally Acquainted with General Sherman. Shakopee Tribune, 1925. In Recollections of Early Pioneers 1925 compiled by Betty A. Dols, 2000, Shakopee Heritage Society.)
Witch-e-ain was around 15 years old in early 1840s. Witch-e-ain’s father was another chief named Mock-ah-pe-ah-ket-ah-pah. (Although some people said that Witch-e-ain’s father was Wah-pa-sha).
The name of Witch-e-ain is closest to the Dakota word wićíte, “the human face,” although like some of LaFayette Houghton Bunnell’s other names, it is highly corrupted. The name “Face” could allude to her beauty and seductiveness. The name may also be a corrupted front formation from Wićítokapa, “the eldest born,” although this posits such a degree of corruption as to defy probability.
In the early 1840s, a special celebration was happening in Wah-pa-sha’s band. They assembled, and after elaborate preparation and sanctification of the ground by invocations and incense, the chief speaker came forward, and in a sonorous address lauded the virtues of chastity and warned against the sin of bearing false witness.
Wah-kon-de-o-tah, the great war-chief of the band, addressed his warriors in a quiet and affectionate manner, and told his braves to maintain the truth as sacred, and not offend the spirits of their ancestors. Wah-pa-sha then called for the virgins and matrons to come forth, and for some time there was the silence of expectation.
Again the call was made for any virgin to come forward and receive her reward. Two maidens came partly forward, but, upon reaching the line of denunciation, faltered and turned back, probably from modesty. We-no-nah, the wife of the speaker, and eldest sister (or cousin) of Wah-pa-sha, motioned to her youngest daughter, Witch-e-ain to come forward.
After repeated calls by the crier of the assembly, Witch-e-ain came modestly forward and was crowned goddess of the feast that immediately followed. Her head was encircled with braids of rich garniture and scented grass, and presents of colored cloths, calicoes, yarns, beads and ribbons were lavished upon her as the tribe’s representative of purity.
Wah-pa-sha said that Witch-e-ain could pick either LaFayette Houghton Bunnell or Thomas A. Holmes, as both allowed royal alliance for the family. Witch-e-aim said she did not like the trader, and preferred LaFayette. When Bunnell declined her offer, Witch-e-ain’s withering, silent contempt was clear.
During the feast, Thomas was so enchanted that he decided at once to make Witch-e-ain his wife.
Witch-e-ain was allowed to marry European American traders, like Thomas A. Holmes, in the fashion of the country. This means that these marriages were not recognized by law or religion. The French speaking traders of Canada term for this is “a la faḉon du pays.” Some people would call them “country wives.” While many marriages brought loving couples together for the rest of their lives, other marriages were very short-lived or violent. Many traders married native women, but also had other wives back home. Sometimes when the men retired from the fur trade, they returned to their legitimate, or legally married wives.
These marriages came with the expectation that trade between the woman’s relations and the trader would be secured, and that aid would be mutually provided in times of need. It was also the hope of the woman’s family that the trader’s generosity would increase after the marriage took place. The marriages between these two groups would lead to the creation of the Métis people, who would be considered the offspring of the fur trade.
So Thomas gave Wah-pa-sha an offer that he accepted. Based on this, Witch-e-ain then picked Thomas A. Holmes. This was in the early 1840s.
Thomas then married Witch-e-ain a la faḉon du pays. They were married in the fashion of the country, and lived together. But Witch-e-ain did not like living with Thomas. Like a caged bird, she soon pined for her Dakota prairie home. By the spring, while flowers bloomed, Witch-e-ain died of consumption.
(Some information from Lafayette Houghton Bunnell, Winona (We-No-Nah) and Its Environs on Mississippi in Ancient and Modern Days, Winona, MN: Jones & Kroeger, 1897; History of Wabasha County: Together with Biographical Matter, Statistics, Etc. Gathered from Matter Furnished by Interviews with Old Settlers, County, Township and Other Records, and Extracts from Files of Papers, Pamphlets, and Such Other Sources as Have Been Available. Also a History of Winona County, H.H. Hill & Company, 1884.)
According to Mary Cavanaugh DuBois, “Everyone in the community knew ‘Indian Minnie,’ who made beautiful beaded articles. The purses mother had her make were not leather, but made from rubber inner tubes. They had beaded handles and rubber streamers decorated with beads. The price was $1.00 each.”
Minnie Josephine Otherday was born in a tipi on July 24, 1877 on the north side of the Minnesota River in Tiŋta-otoŋwe. Her parents were Jim and Lucy Otherday. Her grandmother was the sister of Chief Ŝakpe II, whom the city of Shakopee was named.
According to Diane Sexton, “My grandma had a pair of baby booties and a pillow made by Minnie, they always fascinated me as a young girl. She later donated them to the historical society.” Marcia Wagner remembered, “When I was a girl Indian Minnie lived on the Indian Road, on the Eden Prairie side. I used to take a walk and visit her. She was a very nice lady. Went to school with her granddaughter Darlene. I grew up in Eden Prairie on Spring Road, so Indian Road was just like a hop and a skip away.”
In the 1980 McDevitt family history book, there is mention of Minnie:
“Because the homestead only consisted of fifty acres, his father rented land at a number of places and also purchased some land at two different sites adjoining the city of Shakopee. These tracts of land that his father had purchased are now a part of the city of Shakopee and many homes have already been built on this land…To get to one of the rented fields, they had to drive across the old bridge at Shakopee onto the Indian Road, where they would see Indian Minnie sewing under a shade tree and the young Indian boys running and hiding behind trees, aiming and shooting their Fourth of July guns.”
(Some information from online discussion on If You Grew Up In Shakopee…)
Bror Folke Persson (Pearson) was born on a farm in southern Sweden July 30, 1906. Bror Folke, meaning “brother of the people,” was a particularly apt name for a man who devoted his life to his family, parents, and communities. He was kind and had a good sense of humor.
Dr. Pearson immigrated to America in 1919, and became a doctor for 42 years in Shakopee, starting in 1934. Dr. Pearson used to come directly to homes any time of the day or night, whenever called. He delivered more than 2,500 babies in Shakopee.
Gwen Johnson Humphrey remembered when Dr. Pearson “brought [me] into the world, then in the next few years brought four of my six brothers also. He was always at our house it seemed tending to either one or all seven and never left without giving someone a shot, Through measles, German measles, chickenpox, [tonsillectomies], stitches and owies he was always there.”
In 1939, Dr. Pearson, a local priest, and the editor of the local paper visited the convent of Franciscan nursing nuns and asked them to take over the decrepit county poor house and run it as a hospital and a home for the elderly.
By 1952, the little hospital was no longer big enough, and Dr. Pearson led the effort to build a new hospital with 120 beds, an emergency room, and a full services laboratory.
Dr. Pearson married Elizabeth Stephens in 1935, and after 40 years, Beth died in 1976. They had three daughters and a son. Pearson retired from his Shakopee practice in 1976, the same year Beth passed away.
Dr. Pearson received the 18th annual Franciscan International Award. The honor goes to someone whose humanitarian efforts and singular devotion to others live up to the ideals of St. Francis. Other recipients have included Dr. Billy Graham, Dr. Charles Mayo of the Mayo Clinic, and Harry Reasoner, nationally known ABC Television news anchorman. In 1976, it went to a little-known doctor from a small Minnesota town.
In 1980, he wed Dr. Dora Zaeske, and they were together for 22 years, traveling the world and working as humanitarians.
Dr. Pearson worked as a physician in locations in South America, the West Indies, and Taiwan, and a Navajo Reservation in Ganado, Arizona. He also led an effort to sponsor a leprosarium in Zambia, Africa.
In 1970, a new elementary school in Shakopee, B.F. Pearson Elementary School, was named after him. It is located at 917 Dakota Street South.
In 1995, Central became the fifth- and sixth-grade building, with Sweeney and Pearson elementaries serving grades kindergarten through fourth. As the number of students grew, the five other elementary schools in Shakopee continued, while in 2011, the school was converted to Shakopee’s Pearson Sixth Grade Center, which opened in 2012.
Pearson Sixth Grade Center served all public school sixth graders in Shakopee which included about 650 students. About 43% of the students were people of color.
In 2018, the school was closed for budget reasons. The sixth graders were moved to the two middle schools with other seventh and eighth graders.
In 2020, Pearson Sixth Grade Center became the Pearson Early Learning Center.
After a brief illness, Dr. Bror Folke Pearson passed away Aug. 24, 2004, at Sunrise of Mercer Island, Washington, at age 98.
Dan Eddings was born enslaved, probably in Kentucky around 1852.
So how did Dan Eddings move?
Elnathan Judson Pond married Wilhelmine Minnie Catharina Elisabeth Markus in Shakopee on June 24, 1879. Minnie was born Oct. 21, 1862, daughter of William (1823-1895) and. Wilhelmina (1832-1908) Markus. Elnathan and Minnie had six children. Elnathan’s younger brother, Samuel William Pond, Jr. married Irene Goodrich Boyden. The two couples started housekeeping at the mission farm. Later, Elnathan and Minnie moved across the road to a 170-acre farm. This farm is now part of The Landing in Shakopee, according to Pond Grist Mill Is Start of Something Big by Ginger Timmons, Scott County Historical Society, Shakopee Valley News, Aug. 30, 1972.
Elnathan and Samuel, Jr., sons of Rev. Samuel Pond, Sr. and Cordelia Eggleston Pond, built the Pond Grist Mill in 1875. The mill was built for supplementary income. Elnathan and Wilhelmine’s seven-room, two-story frame house, complete with summer kitchen and woodshed, stood about a block east of the mill. The families moved the big barn from the
The Shakopee Tribunealso discusses “our sole citizen of color.” According to the article, Dan was “quite harmless, although possessing only indistinct ideas of the philosophy of meum and tuum, especially when in the vicinity of a hen roost.” Meum et tuum means mine and thine and is used to express rights of property. In other words, he was a lady’s man. “In earlier days, before race prejudice had spread through the north, Dan often was present at social functions, and there may be those still living who have stepped off a quadrille with him.”
William Weiser, meanwhile, was back with his wife until she died, and then he married Kate Love McCallum. They have nine children before Kate died in 1901. William was a school teacher and brick mason, and died in Everett, Washington in 1919.
Dan spent his post-slave life living and working in Shakopee. In the Aug. 29, 1919 Scott County Argus, Dan “had spent his entire life here, and was well known among the farming community, having worked on many of the farms hereabouts.” He often worked at Lawrence Stemmer’s farm in east Shakopee. (“Threshers in Shakopee ca. 1910” by Shakopee Heritage Society)
J.A. Reitz, a Shakopee photographer, took a picture of Dan in 1915. It was a studio portrait, where Eddings was sitting on a wicker chair covered with a fur pelt. He was wearing a button-down shirt, vest, jacket, and trousers. On the back of the photograph is written “Ni**er—Dan Eddings 1915.” Dan Eddings continued working at various farms until 1919, when he became sick with cancer. He was taken to the county poor house five weeks before he died. The Aug. 29, 1919 Shakopee Tribunenoted, “Dan Eddings, better known to Shakopee as ‘Ni**er Dan,’ died at the county poorhouse Wednesday morning, and was buried that evening.” The Scott County Argusadded, “Dan Eddings, the only local negro resident in this community, died Wednesday morning at 9:45 o’clock at the county poor house where he was taken about five weeks ago. The cause of death was cancer of the stomach.”
Dan Eddings was buried at Valley Cemetery in Shakopee. Valley Cemetery was a public cemetery with no church affiliation. Many of the early families are buried there. The area where he was buried is directly across from pine trees. Valley Cemetery made a note in the remarks: “Known as Ni**er Dan.”
Dan, who was enslaved, worked for years at various farms in Shakopee, and died of cancer, was buried in the potter’s section, a place for the burial of unknown or indigent people. The term is of Biblical origin, referring to a ground where clay was dug for pottery, later bought by the high priests of Jerusalem for the burial of strangers, criminals and the poor.
