BLIND LAKE, Minn. — Blind Lake is not very different from any of the lakes around it.
But it holds a long-forgotten, deathly secret uncovered by three women documenting the history of the lake, located in a Cass County township by the same name in north-central Minnesota.
ADVERTISEMENT
Lifelong Blind Lake resident Mary Krecklau joined forces with Cecelia McKeig and Renee Geving to document the history of the township and its people in a book titled "Blind Lake Township and Surrounding Townships."
They interviewed township residents to gather the history that surrounds the lake and scoured through newspapers and historical documents to fill in the blanks that human memory could not account for alone.
Before incorporation, it started like Pine River, Backus and other communities as a site where loggers gathered during the state's big logging boom. Not far to the south, the logging railroad was a bustling place near Cross Lake. The train ran some 10-15 miles north of Cross Lake before forking off into the lake itself.
"A three mile-spur was built going west into picturesque Blind Lake and extended out onto a wooden pier," the book says. "Here, log booms were hoisted onto the log cars for the trip to Cross Lake. A camp was located on the southeast corner of the lake."
Just as water is necessary for life, in 1890 when the Blind Lake camp started, it was a vital part of transporting the heavy lumber out of the wooded northland to more bustling communities where it could be converted to cash.
According to "Blind Lake Township and Surrounding Townships,” lumber camps like the one on Blind Lake would employ 80-100 loggers who made their home at the camp for extended periods of time.
"These camps were built and moved as the timber around them was exhausted. Some of the better-known camps were located at Blind, Inguadona, Girl, Wabedo and Pine lakes," the book says.
ADVERTISEMENT
The Blind Lake camp was operated by L.G. Cook, who also operated two others.
"They logged around Blind Lake nearly four winters," the book says. "Maurice Peterson was clerk of Camp #2. Oxen were used for hauling as late as 1894 — the loads averaged 5,100 feet. The Blind Lake spur was built out onto the lake on a wooden pier about two feet above the water level.
“Here logs boomed on the lake were hoisted out and placed on the log cars for the trip to the Cross Lake dump,” the book says. “During the course of operations at Blind Lake, equipment was either lost or discarded into the lake around the pier. Some objects recovered from the lake were peavey poles, bridge and track spikes, parts of a locomotive, flat car, coupling pins, links, and a coupling bumper. They were hard to retrieve as there (is) at least two feet of bark accumulated beneath the trestle."
The Northland Pine Company, in charge of the camps, paid $35 per month with board to loggers. Hoisters, who were in very short supply, earned $2.50 per day plus board back as far as 1906.
The existence of the camp served as an economic boon for more than just the company and its laborers. As a result, people came to provide for the growing customer base resulting in new farms, stores and more to feed and be paid by the loggers.
"John Strauch, a farmer, contracted 1,000 bushels of potatoes to Northland Pine Company at 40 cents a bushel," the history book says. "The company is also buying hay at prices from $3 to $5 per ton."
The suddenly swelling population of settlers didn't always result in great relationships with the nearby Native Americans.
ADVERTISEMENT
In July 1894, around the end of the camp's lifespan, a man named Andrew Leighton was in charge of watching stock at the camp until he went missing.
"Mr. Leighton was employed by L.G. Cook at his camp on Blind Lake as a watchman, looking after the stock and taking care of things generally during the summer months. When the haying crew went up in July 1894, Mr. Leighton was not there, but as his gun was gone, it was supposed he was on a hunting expedition. As the days passed by, and he did not return, the men became suspicious that there had been foul play," the book says.
He was missing without a word for five weeks before even a single tip was uncovered. It seemed Leighton ran afoul of some local Native Americans, according to an Aug. 22, 1894, article in the "New Ulm Review," as reported by the Blind Lake book.
"One Indian (identified as Skunk in the article) told a friend of his that the Indians had killed him and sunk his body in the lake," read an Aug. 25, 1895, Brainerd Dispatch article quoted in the book. "Warrants have been issued and officers started Monday to capture the murderers."
Officers theorized that Leighton was murdered in the act of stealing the supplies and goods at the camp. Several attempts were made to find the missing man, including dragging the lake, but only nature itself would solve the mystery of the unfortunate Mr. Leighton.
Leighton's remains finally surfaced 13 months after he went missing and were found floating in the lake. He had a chain loosely wrapped around part of his body, and it appeared at one time chains were also wrapped around his wrists, until decomposition set in and they came off.
"The chains around the body were not sufficiently heavy to keep the body down after the hands were released," the Dispatch article said.
ADVERTISEMENT
Though decomposition was advanced, Leighton's brother from Minneapolis was able to identify him by a scar on his leg and a pocket watch chain, but not watch. The remains were temporarily buried in the north to keep them until colder temperatures set in and he could be returned home in November.
Authorities later revealed that their most likely suspect had died in the year since Leighton first went missing, because of an unrelated, violent encounter at a nearby ranch.
The Blind Lake history book describes a document from Park Rapids on Aug. 21, 1894, that read: "Details of the fight between whites and Indians at (James) Curo's ranch are beginning to come in. A few Indians tried to carry off a sack of flour from Curo's store without paying for it. Curo objected and a scuffle ensued, in which Curo was getting the worst of the fight.
“His son John picking up a rifle struck an Indian over the head, the lock sinking into his skull. The Indians went to Leech Lake reservation, threatened to get help and kill the settlers on the border of the reservation. Parties came in early this morning and purchased large quantities of ammunition to take back. Dr. Cutler has gone out to attend the injured Indian," the book says.
The above James Curo was the first postmaster, ranchman and merchant of Hackensack, who, together with Bye Bartlett, named the town of Hackensack after their former hometown, according to the "Celebrating 100 Years" Hackensack centennial book, though records on geneaology.com claim Curo came from Maine.
"Legend has it they named the town after Hackensack, New Jersey, because the mosquitos were as numerous and big as in their home town," the Hackensack book says.
This injured Native American may be the same one later referenced in the 1895 Brainerd Dispatch article, left fatally injured in the Curo incident in Hackensack.
ADVERTISEMENT
"This man is said to have confessed just before his death that he had killed a man at Blind Lake, weighted his body with chains and sunk the body in the water, and that he took his watch but afterwards threw it in the lake for fear someone would know it," The Dispatch article read.
If the confession was accurate, it matched closely the mode by which Leighton was disposed of. The account included details not widely known until Leighton's body was found, specifically, the lack of a pocket watch and the means by which he was weighed down.
Another Native American implicated in the incident was reported dead by drowning in Leech Lake in the spring of 1895.
Either by coincidence or out of caution, the Blind Lake Camp closed operation not long after Leighton's death. Prior sources indicated the camp operated for approximately four years following the 1890 founding.
Since its incorporation, the township developed and grew into its own tight-knit community, complete with several school houses, churches and the ill-fated Spurrier Hotel on the shore of Blind Lake, owned by William Spurrier Jr., who blew up the hotel and himself with dynamite.
Many memories have been made in the community since then, whether they be Krecklau's family catching bluegills in the water that washed out one of the township roads during recent floods or ice skating on the lake.
If not for a trio of history seekers, these memories and the story of the year-long, dark secret hidden beneath Blind Lake's surface could have been lost forever. Now, good and bad, these stories are immortalized in a small book about how the township became a community.
ADVERTISEMENT
Blind Lake
- Location: Cass County, south of Longville
- Area: 76.14 acres
- Shore length: 1.41 miles
- Deepest point: 20 feet
- Fish species: black bullhead, black crappie, bluegill, brown bullhead, hybrid sunfish, largemouth bass, northern pike, pumpkinseed, walleye, yellow bullhead, yellow perch, central mudminnow, golden shiner
- Public water access: One ramp is located on the south end of the lake at the end of Fourth Street Northeast.
- Interesting fact: Blind Lake became part of a township in 1905, though at that time it was part of Wabedo Township. It wasn't until Dec. 18, 1917, that Blind Lake became its own township. Authors Mary Krecklau, Cecelia McKeig and Renee Geving theorized that Blind Lake received its name because it is hidden between hills so well that it is hard to tell it is there until you crest the surrounding hills.
Sources include Minnesota Department of Natural Resources Lake Finder
The Trust Project
