The Fluoride Monument

Exactly 65 years ago today Grand Rapids became the first city in the country to fluoridate its water, adding the compound in an effort to curb tooth decay. In 2007 the city dedicated a new monument to their fluoridation fever in the form of a sculpture called “Steel Water.” These days water fluoridation has become controversial, with a growing voice of dissent from citizens. But, even if Grand Rapids should one day cease its fluoridation, the city will always have a strange place in history as the first U.S. city to add the tooth-decay preventative to its water supply.

Bones of Contention: Apes, Ape-Men, or Humans?

A fascinating report from the 19th Century—“The Mound-Builders of Michigan” by Henry Gillman—describes various artifacts found in and around ancient earthworks in the state of Michigan. In these
mounds, excavators found fragments of skeletons. But these bones showed some strange characteristics. The tibias unearthed in the mounds were flatter than human bones by a significant degree. One skull found was markedly smaller than the average human adult, though scientists who examined it declared the skull an adult. The bones had several traits in common with chimpanzees.

Did chimpanzees live in Michigan 5,000 years ago? If so, why would someone bury them in mounds? And why have no chimp remains been discovered in modern times in Michigan? Perhaps the ape-like traits tell us something else—not that apes lived in Michigan 5,000 years ago, but that an ape-like creature with intelligence on a par with humans lived in Michigan back then.

Sightings of such a creature continue to this day. We call them Bigfoot.

Picture of a Ghost Town

Henry Ford's Alberta Village

The Ford sign on Lake Plumbago

Henry Ford’s Ghost Town, Part 2

In 1935, Henry Ford bought thousands of acres of land in the middle of nowhere on Lake Plumbago. Today the site lies eight miles south of L’Anse on US 41, still in the center of nothing. When Ford needed wood for his cars, and felt his suppliers were cheating him, he opted to acquire existing sawmills (like the Big Bay mill) or build his own where he could both harvest the trees and process them for use in the bodies of his cars, most notably the station wagons known as “woodies.” Since Ford Motor Company used 200-300 million board feet of lumber each year, maintaining control of the lumber supply became vital. In Baraga County Ford constructed a sawmill. More than that, however, he engineered a village where workers could live, grown their own food, and work all in one centralized location.

Quaint houses reminiscent of Cape Cod provided shelter for the workers and their families, while on-site schools tended to the children. Each family received two acres on which to grow their own food. On the advice of the U.S. Forest Service, Ford implemented selective cutting practices which, while common in the logging industry today, were at the time innovative. Signs along the road informed passersby that the Ford Motor Company owned everything they saw around them, from the trees to the buildings. Like a miniature version of the Roman Empire, Ford’s holdings—spread across far-flung and remote lands—served both to showcase his power and satisfy practical needs for lumber.

When Henry Ford died in 1947, his company fell into the hands of new leaders with aspirations more pragmatic than Ford’s. The company soon shut down most of the village industries which, though innovative, had proved costly. In 1954, the Ford Motor Company donated the Alberta Village and its 2,000-acre forest to Michigan Technological University in Houghton. Today the site, known as the MTU Ford Center, survives as a forestry lab for Michigan Tech and a nonprofit museum dedicated to preserving the memory of Ford’s ambition and vision.

Visitors can experience the village industry concept, and learn about Ford and his empire, all summer long via a video presentation and interpretive displays. The museum is open Tuesday through Saturday 9:30 AM to 3:30 PM, from June 15th through mid-October. To find Alberta, just follow U.S. 41 north from Marquette, Michigan.

Tomorrow, see what Alberta looks like today…

Henry Ford’s Ghost Town

A sign along U.S. Highway 41 announces “Alberta Village” while, behind the sign on the shores of Lake Plumbago, the Ford Motor Company logo graces a hillside. Across the highway from the lake sits a cluster of quaint cottages and vaguely industrial-looking buildings. Tourists whizzing past on U.S. 41 would hardly guess that they’ve bypassed a parcel of automotive history.

No industry had a greater impact on Michigan, both economically and socially, than the automotive industry. Ford, Chevrolet, Cadillac, Pontiac—all these names have become inextricably linked with Michigan and Detroit in particular. After all, Detroit didn’t become known as the Motor City because of the boats motoring around in the harbors. Yet one automaker did more than bring jobs and industry to Michigan. He sought to change the very face of Michigan, leaving his legacy scrawled across the entire state. That man was Henry Ford.

Everybody knows about the Ford Motor Company, and nearly everyone knows Ford pioneered the assembly line. Few people realize, though, that Ford also pioneered a concept called “village industries,” via his massive social engineering efforts. Ford took the 19th Century political concept of manifest destiny to a whole new level, helping to create the Village of Kingsford in Dickinson County, buying up Big Bay and its mills in Marquette County, and turning numerous southern Michigan towns into industrial centers.

The remains of many of Ford’s towns—including his Pequaming bungalow, which supposedly houses ghosts these days—dot the landscape of Michigan. Yet one such place exemplifies the village industry concept better than any other—Alberta Village.

Tomorrow, the rest of the story…

Santa and His Cryptids

Tonight children will try to stay awake until Santa arrives at their homes. They hope to glimpse that jolly elf and, perhaps, some of his reindeer. His flying reindeer.

Christmas cryptids!

Since no known species of reindeer can fly, we must assume Santa has conscripted eight cryptids—cryptozoological creatures—to assist him in his gift deliveries. Then, of course, we have Rudolph, a cryptid unto himself (remember that glowing nose?). So all you cryptophiles out there, disheartened by hoaxes and chronic skeptics, take heart. Even Christmas has its cryptids…in the guise of airborne ungulates. So keep an eye on the strange Michigan skies tonight!

Have a Merry Christmas!

Fairies and Bigfoot in Michigan Folklore

We all know the Celtic peoples of Europe believed in fairies and other magical beings—pixies, brownies, and their ilk. But have you heard about the May-may-gway-shi?

Because of my interest in all things strange, I have investigated various unusual topics in my home state. On the Web I came upon a passing reference to the Burnt Bluff pictographs, a series of red ocher drawings discovered on the Garden Peninsula southeast of Escanaba, here in the Upper Peninsula. As I researched the pictographs, I found a correlation with another favorite topic of mine: fairies.

It seems that the Algonquian Indians have legends of the May-maygway-shi, the North American equivalent of the fairy. Like fairies, the May-may-gway-shi have an affinity to water. The Algonquian legends associate the May-may-gway-shi with ancient red ocher rock art from the Pre-Columbian era, into which the Burnt Bluff pictographs fall. Some legends say the fairies created the rock art.

The Burnt Bluff pictographs depict humanoid figures with barrel chests, wide shoulders, and almost no neck. The pictographs resemble similar figures found in ancient rock art from the Four Corners region of the U.S.

The figures all  resemble Bigfoot far more than humans. Is this proof Bigfoot exists? Of course not. But it is intriguing…

The Spider Man pictograph.

To read more about the Burnt Bluff pictographs, buy your copy of Strange Michigan today.

The Mysteries of UFOs & Ice Circles

Back in November 2006, a man discovered a wheel of ice floating in the Hemlock River, near the town of Amasa in the western Upper Peninsula of Michigan. The night before, the same man had seen, as HBCC Research puts it, “a vibrating beam of light/pulsating lights” in the skies over the river. No one can say for
certain if the strange light caused the circle. However, a sighting recently reported to me suggests that UFOs might have a history of frequenting bodies of water in the Amasa area.

In the summer of 1977, Mike and his family stayed in a cabin on Cable Lake, northwest of Amasa. One night, Mike took a break from a game of Risk to step outside. Gazing at the sky, Mike noticed a “vibrant star.” As he watched, the “star” zipped to a different location in the sky. Mike wondered if the star had only seemed to move, perhaps an optical illusion induced by turning his head. Just then the star zipped to a different spot.

The points to where the light had shifted would’ve formed a triangle in the sky, had the light drawn a line with its motions. As Mike observed the light, it dimmed and then vanished altogether. Mike heard no sounds coming from the object.

To see photos of the ice circle click here.

Find more tales of UFOs and ice circles when you buy your copy of Strange Michigan the book!

The Parking Ticket That Grew a Beard

Okay, so maybe the parking ticket hasn’t grown a beard, but it’s certainly old enough to have grown one. In April of 2008, the Calumet Village Police received a payment for a parking ticket issued 31 years earlier. The anonymous woman who sent payment, in an envelope with no return address, begged the police not to try to find her because she is “a respectable lady.” How can anyone argue with that? A woman who would pay her $5 parking ticket after 31 years—when the ticket would be old enough to drive, vote, and drink were it a human being—has certainly done her civic duty.

Monsters in the Lake

Lake Superior is vast and deep. Its nickname the Inland Sea stems from its similarities to the oceans. So it comes as no surprise that mysteries lurk in the depths of Superior.

In 1977, Randy Braun snapped a photo of something which he suspects was a giant serpent swimming in the waters of Lake Superior, near the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park in the western Upper Peninsula. Whatever Braun saw that day undulated in the water like a serpent. The snapshot he took of the beast shows a blurry object in the water. Even if he’d captured a crystal-clear image, would the media or skeptics believe it?

Doubtful. But Braun was not the only person to report a serpent sighting in Lake Superior. Legends of lake monsters go back centuries, from the serpent beasts of Indian lore to the historical sightings reported by European settlers. Indian lore speaks of Mishegenabeg, the “great snake,” who could transmute himself into many forms including that of a human. Rock art depicts serpent-like creatures accompanying the deity Mishipeshu. Folklore often places Mishegenabeg’s home near Pictured Rocks or perhaps the Apostle Islands.

In July 1895, the crew of the Curry spotted a sea monster that swam in an undulating motion. Its neck was fifteen feet long. In the 1930s, two fishermen reported seeing a snake-like creature swimming offshore of Pictured Rocks. Perhaps Mishegenabeg had emerged from his lair.

Believe it or not-the sighting reports exist. Lake Superior can challenge Loch Ness or Lake Champlain any day for the title of Best Lake Monster Lair!

Crave more lake monster stories? Buy your copy of Strange Michigan today! The book includes Randy Braun’s personal account of his sighting, as well as tales of other water-borne wonders.