Read Tamarack River Ghost Online
Authors: Jerry Apps
Tamarack River Ghost
Fiction:
The Travels of Increase Joseph
In a Pickle
Blue Shadows Farm
Cranberry Red
Tamarack River Ghost
Nonfiction:
The Land Still Lives
Cabin in the Country
Barns of Wisconsin
Mills of Wisconsin and the Midwest
Breweries of Wisconsin
One-Room Country Schools
Wisconsin Traveler’s Companion
Country Wisdom
Cheese: The Making of a Wisconsin Tradition
When Chores Were Done
Country Ways and Country Days
Humor from the Country
The People Came First: A History of Cooperative Extension
Ringlingville USA
Every Farm Tells a Story
Living a Country Year
Old Farm: A History
Horse Drawn Days
Campfires and Loon Calls
Garden Wisdom
Rural Wit and Wisdom
Children’s Books:
Eat Rutabagas
Stormy
Tents, Tigers, and the Ringling Brothers
Casper Jaggi: Master Swiss Cheese Maker
Tamarack River Ghost
A Novel
Jerry Apps
Terrace Books
A trade imprint of the University of Wisconsin Press
Terrace Books, a trade imprint of the University of Wisconsin Press, takes its name from the Memorial Union Terrace, located at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. Since its inception in 1907, the Wisconsin Union has provided a venue for students, faculty, staff, and alumni to debate art, music, politics, and the issues of the day. It is a place where theater, music, drama, literature, dance, outdoor activities, and major speakers are made available to the campus and the community. To learn more about the Union, visit
www.union.wisc.edu
.
Terrace Books
A trade imprint of the University of Wisconsin Press
1930 Monroe Street, 3rd Floor
Madison, Wisconsin 53711–2059
3 Henrietta Street
London WCE 8LU, England
Copyright © 2012 by Jerry Apps
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any format or by any means, digital, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or conveyed via the Internet or a website without written permission of the University of Wisconsin Press, except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles and reviews.
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Apps, Jerold W., 1934–
Tamarack River ghost : a novel / Jerry Apps.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-299-28880-8 (cloth: alk. paper)
ISBN 978-0-299-28883-9 (e-book)
1. Swine—Wisconsin—Fiction.
2. Factory farms—Wisconsin—Fiction.
3. Farm life—Wisconsin—Fiction.
4. Reporters and reporting—Wisconsin—Fiction.
I. Title.
PS3601.P67T36 2012
813'.6—dc23
2012009944
To
Sue, Kate, and Natasha
21. Yes or No to Factory Farms
I began this novel while in the Boundary Waters Canoe Wilderness Area of northern Minnesota. It was in early September 2009 that my son and canoe partner, Steve, and I were staying in Moose Cabin at Hungry Jack Lodge and day-tripping into the famous canoe area. On a rainy afternoon, when we appreciated having a roof over our heads, I posed a “what if ” question to Steve, who is chief photographer at the
Wisconsin State Journal
. (My novels always begin with “what if?”) I asked, “What if an agricultural reporter is caught up in the potential demise of his newspaper and at the same time faces one of the biggest stories of his career, a potential large-scale hog farm coming to central Wisconsin?” Being a newspaperman, Steve was intrigued with the idea. When we weren’t paddling or fishing, we began fleshing out the main characters, and the basic elements of the plot. A year later and once more in the Boundary Waters, we worked on the drafts I had been writing since the last time we were there. This time we discussed subplots, further character development, dialogue, and a host of other matters, including the ghost. Many thanks to Steve, for his knowledge of the newspaper industry, as well as his always honest appraisal of my musings.
All of my writing, novels included, requires a considerable amount of research. Even though I grew up on a farm and had a professional career in agriculture, there is much I don’t know. Emeritus Professor Gerald Campbell, Department of Agricultural and Applied Economics, University of Wisconsin–Madison, College of Agricultural and Life Sciences, helped me understand some of the nuances of integrated agricultural firms as well
as insights into confined animal feeding operations (CAFOs). I appreciate his knowledge and insight.
A big thank you to my friend and fellow historian Elmer Marting, Monona, Iowa. Elmer introduced me to Steve Kregel. The Kregel family operates a well-run hog-producing operation near Guttenberg, Iowa. Steve not only took time to answer my many questions about large-scale hog-producing operations, but he also gave me a tour of one of the buildings so I could see their very modern system firsthand.
Discussions with my brother, Donald, helped me to recall how we cared for hogs on the home farm when we were growing up and raised as many as fifty hogs during the war years of the early 1940s. I also want to thank Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources conservation warden Todd Schaller for information about firearms and equipment DNR conservation wardens have at their disposal.
Several people took time to read various drafts of the material. My wife, Ruth, read sections of the manuscript and offered helpful comments. My daughter, Sue, elementary teacher, author, and reading specialist, read parts of the manuscript several times. Her eye for character development and plot sensibility was greatly appreciated. Natasha Kassulke, editor of
Wisconsin Natural Resources Magazine
, read the entire manuscript and offered several valuable suggestions for its improvement. I can’t say enough about Kate Thompson’s contributions. She digs into my stories, looks around to find out if they make sense, and then makes suggestions both large and small to make the story a better one. Thank you, Kate.
A special thank you to Raphael Kadushin, senior acquisitions editor at the University of Wisconsin Press, for believing in my work and supporting me every step of the way. Many others have helped and encouraged me, as I worked my way through the development and writing of my several novels. A big thanks to everyone who in one way or another helped me with this one.
Prologue
April 1900
Tamarack River Valley, Central Wisconsin
“Daylight in the swamp!” yelled the log-driver foreman as he pounded a stick on the bottom of a cooking pot. “Daylight in the swamp!” A hint of pink showed above the pine trees to the east, but it would be another half hour before sunrise. The night temperature had dropped into the low thirties, and white frost covered everything, not unusual for April in Wisconsin. The mighty Tamarack River roared as it tumbled over rocks and raced south. Logs, thousands of them, filled the river, which was just below flood stage. Huge chunks of blue ice also floated on the water, some breaking apart when they crashed into the rocks, sending up plumes of frigid spray.
“Hell, it’s still dark,” mumbled Mortimer Dunn, one of a dozen log drivers sleeping in the big white tent the crew of sturdy men had pitched on the banks of the river the previous night, just before the sun went down. Dunn’s big, brown German shepherd slept beside him. Prince was his constant companion in the woods and on the river. The dog wore a leather collar with a little brass bell attached, so Mortimer could keep track of him while he was hustling logs caught in an eddy or hung up on rocks, something that happened often on river drives. Mortimer also carried a wooden whistle in his pocket, one he had carved. He used it to call Prince when they became separated, as sometimes happened when they moved down the river.
Dunn, only five feet seven and 165 pounds, was part of an elite crew in charge of guiding logs down the Tamarack River when the ice went out in the spring. They moved the logs from the pine forests north and east of Stevens Point to Lake Poygan, then on to Lake Winnebago and the sawmills in Oshkosh.
“Doin’ you men a favor. Worked you kinda late last night, so thought we’d get an early start today so we can knock off a little earlier this evening,” the foreman said in a too loud voice.
Most log drivers also worked as lumberjacks during the long winter. They earned twice the money as log drivers as they did as lumberjacks; riding the logs on the river was a far more dangerous job. As lumberjacks, they sawed down giant pine trees and, with teams of oxen and bobsleds, toted the logs to the river’s edge, where they stacked them in huge piles, waiting for the spring breakup, when they rolled the logs into the Tamarack’s cold, brown, swirling waters.
The men, cursing and scratching themselves, crawled out of their bedrolls, dressed, and prepared for breakfast. With breakfast finished, several greased their legs and waists with lard to protect them a bit from the icy cold water. The cook prepared lunch for them and placed it in nose bags, canvas sacks they took with them so they could eat without leaving the river and the thousands of logs they shepherded south. The men climbed into their bateaus, double-bowed boats, and began their day’s work.
Mortimer Dunn and Prince, riding in their bateau, brought up the rear of the crew, ready for any emergency the log drivers might face as they kept the big pine logs, some of them four feet and more in diameter and twenty feet long, moving in the rapid current of the river. Mortimer’s specialty was undoing logjams, which meant first locating the key log that must be dislodged before the logs in a pile-up could begin moving. Though a small man, he was all muscle, with the agility of a cat, a characteristic that served him well on the river drives.
