Tuesday, October 14, 2014

291014 - Topic: North Dakota




For this episode of Empire Builders, the story centered on wheat farming in North Dakota, and the miraculous manner in which the elopement of two young lovers brought an end to an old grudge between their fathers. The young couple were Jimmy Williamson and Helga Swanson, whose fathers developed large wheat farms on the northern plains.  

According to the program’s continuity, the broadcast began with the playing of “The Yellow and Blue,” which was evidently intended to set the tone for the opening scene on the campus of the North Dakota Agricultural College. One thing the writers were missing in those days was the internet. In the first few lines of script, Helga Swanson even refers to the music as “The Yellow and Blue.” Turns out, though, that the alma mater of the North Dakota Agricultural College (now known as North Dakota State University) is called “The Yellow and the Green.”

Here’s a link to a men’s glee club a cappella rendition of“The Yellow and Blue,” which happens to be the alma mater of the University of Michigan. Perhaps Andy Sannella, Empire Builders musical director, couldn’t get his hands on sheet music for the correct tune, but one must wonder if there were any Wolverines tuning in who wondered why their alma mater was being usurped that way. For a production that prided itself in a high degree of accuracy, it seems odd that a misstep such as this – one that must have been glaringly obvious to at least a portion of the listening audience – was perpetuated on the air. It was not uncommon for those associated in some way with a broadcast’s topic to make a point of listening in to revel in the positive attention brought to their particular group or cause. You have to think it was a bit jarring for people associated with either North Dakota Agricultural College or the University of Michigan to hear the inappropriate song being played.

The story opened without the usual appearance of the Old Timer, focusing immediately on Jimmy and Helga as they discussed their futures upon graduating from North Dakota Agricultural College. The only thing disturbing the two was the ongoing feud between their fathers, Al Williamson and Nils Swanson.

I digress here for a moment . . .

One of the unexpected pleasures of writing this blog about the Empire Builders series is that, due to the GN’s and the NBC staff’s efforts to tie most of their stories to historical fact, it’s actually an interesting education sometimes to read the available continuities and ferret out some of the historical background on which their stories were based. This one is no exception. I’ve never been associated in any way with wheat farming, nor have any of my ancestors going back at least a few generations, so I had either not heard of wheat stem rust, or having heard about it I ignored it. Turns out it was, and apparently still is, a really big deal among wheat growers of this country – especially in the territory of the U.S. once served by the Great Northern Railway.

In the Empire Builders story of October 14, 1929, wheat farmers Williamson and Swanson found out their offspring decided they wanted to get married. This riled them both into a lather. It turned out the two of them had a grudge going back many years, since the days when their son and daughter were children. It all had to do with wheat stem rust, or simply "wheat rust," a virulent fungus that was in real life an enormous problem for the wheat-growing industry in the 1920’s and beyond.

Swanson learned that the wheat rust fungus survives the harsh winters of the northern plains by migrating onto nearby barberry bushes. The barberry bush, which can grow to 15 feet high or more, was a popular hedge plant brought over from Europe. Many homesteaders of Minnesota and the Dakota and Montana Territories found barberry bushes to be an appealing hedge plant that acted as a windbreak on the otherwise barren northern plains. Apparently, there are at least 400 species of barberry plant. One of the more common species, and one that does not contribute to the wheat rust problem as I understand it, is a Japanese variety commonly sold by plant nurseries.

It probably seems sloppy or lazy of me to quote a Wikipedia entry, but I’ve found some authoritative USDA and university extension sites that basically say the following, just in even more verbose prose:  Berberis vulgaris (European barberry) is the alternate host species of the wheat rust fungus (Puccinia graminis), a grass-infecting rust fungus that is a serious fungal disease of wheat and related grains. For this reason, cultivation of B. vulgaris is prohibited in many areas, and imports to the United States are forbidden.”  ["Berberis vulgaris" - Wikipedia]

From about 1918 until into the 1970s, there was an aggressive barberry eradication program in this country designed to save the grain industry in the plains states by attempting to remove all traces of barberry bushes in the affected states. Here’s a map of the contiguous U.S. showing the extent of the effort:



It seems the barberry bush problem is beginning to renew itself. This review of the 10/14/1929 Empire Builders broadcast could easily spiral down into a treatise on fighting wheat rust, but you can always do a little sleuthing about it yourself, if you like.

In the meantime, back to the story . . .

Swanson was aware of the threat to wheat crops posed by wheat rust (and the problem of allowing barberry bushes to thrive in wheat country), and he was also convinced of the virtues of diversified farming. He tried to persuade his friend and fellow farmer, Al Williamson, to diversify his crops and to eradicate barberry plants on his land. Williamson refused, and the two long-time friends very nearly came to blows. Their friendship badly damaged, Williamson moved a hundred miles away, bitterly demanding that Swanson mind his own business and stop trying to tell him how to farm his own land.

The two freshly-minted college grads tried to talk their fathers through their dispute, but all the old hard feelings welled up once again, and conversation died. Jimmy and Helga got desperate and decided to elope. This evolved into a somewhat convoluted plan for Helga to ride the Empire Builder train to New Rockford (where naturally she bumped into the Old Timer), and for her beau Jimmy to meet her there. Eventually, Swanson and Williamson realized what was transpiring, and they came to their senses on behalf of the happiness of their children. Williamson came away with a new perspective about the value of what Swanson was telling him all along.

As far as anyone knows, they all lived happily ever after.

 
 

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