New Salem

“They tell me it’s about thirty miles west of the Missouri River”, replied the immigrant. “In that case you’ll need machinery”, said the man, smelling a chance to make a sale. “I’m telling you”, persisted the salesman, “this is the last chance you’ll have to pick up a plow. There’s not much farming being done west of here.” That information was a bit surprising to the immigrant and he pondered it for several moments. The salesman perceived a weakening sales resistance and put on more pressure. “I have some very good breaking plows right here in the yard.” The result of this conversation was that when the train resumed its way westward, a shiny new breaking plow had been added to the equipment in the immigrant car. Eventually the freight rumbled across the Missouri River Bridge and stopped at Mandan. The young man was met at the depot by his partner, Mr. J.J. Lueck and taken to the Inter-Ocean Hotel for the best meal he had eaten since leaving St. Paul. The next morning the train pulled out of Mandan. The country was now much rougher. The train seemed to climb higher each mile as it followed a river valley westward. There were now no towns and the hills were rugged and forbidding. The young man gazed with some apprehension from the door of his car at the procession of hills of various shapes and sizes. At the first halfway level spot west of Mandan, the train stopped. The crew made their way to the car and began unloading the contents from both sides. Presently all the equipment was dumped along the right-of-way. The engine gave two short blasts of the whistle and the train proceeded on its way toward the western horizon. John Christiansen found himself alone on the plains of Dakota. The surrounding country was dominated by a high butte with a patch of buck brush near its summit. For the first time in his life he was in a region without roads, fences or human inhabitants. The only signs of civilization were the possessions in his custody and the railroad. Many miles to the east was Mandan and to the west was the town of Sims, but neither settlement had any influence on the spot where John Christiansen found himself. One wonders if he realized he was the first settler of the community to be known as New Salem. A short distance to the south stood a butte that drew his attention. It was within easy walking distance and he could keep his camp and the railroad in sight nearly all the way. He made his way over the rich grassy swells and climbed the butte. Here he found his first neighbors. A good-sized prairie dog town extended for about a half mile down the side of the hill. He sat for a long time watching these interesting little animals. He returned to his camp as evening approached, prepared a meal and packed some blankets under an overturned wagon box where he planned to spend the night. During the hours of darkness the wind rose and moaned around the wagon box. The howling of neighboring coyotes caused more apprehension. Sometime during the night a train struggled up the long grade from the east and rumbled past the lonely camp. John slept but little that first night in what was to be his home community for over 70 years. The train proceeded west a few miles to a point on the road known as Bluegrass siding where it left the cars carrying the original settlers that formed the colony. Thus John Christiansen preceded his fellow pioneers to the “promised land” by about 12 hours. What forces had been at work to place these people in Dakota at this particular time “40 miles from nowhere”? In 1882 a number of Evangelical pastors from Illinois, Iowa, Indiana and Wisconsin made plans to plant colonies on the then raw frontier of the plains states. They organized a Colonization Bureau in Chicago. In the fall of 1882 a committee was sent out to visit several western states. They looked over sites in Kansas, Nebraska, Oklahoma and finally, through the efforts of the Northern Pacific Railroad, Dakota Territory. The railroad had ju