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 . . .
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Use my email address to contact me directly. If you post a comment here, I would appreciate it if you let me know who you are. I cannot reply to anonymous comments - there is no way for me to get back to you.