APRIL 2019

APRIL  2019
The Age of the Millionaire

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Showing posts with label Indiana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Indiana. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 12, 2019

THE BELLE OF BEDLAM

I wonder what was going through the mind of lawyer M.E. Leliter, on the afternoon 27 April, 1908, when he was told Mrs. Belle Gunness was in the anteroom of his Main Street office. I doubt he was pleased to see her. But you never think the worse, do you?  Belle was a genial and pleasant, 48 year old church-going woman, but substantial. And at 6 feet, even taller than "M.E.".  Community gossips said that Belle had been seen carrying two 100 pound hogs, one under each arm.. Still, "M.E." thought he could detect the aura of hidden pain behind Belle's sharp blue Nordic eyes.
In Chicago, the stout young Belle (above) had buried two of her children -  not an unusual tragedy in the nineteenth century.  But then,  in 1900,  her husband Anton Sorenson, had died of heart disease. With the proceeds from Anton’s two life insurance policies,  Belle and her three daughters had purchased a farm on the northeast outskirts of La Porte Indiana, out on McClung Road past Pine and Fish Trap lakes. 
It was there a year later she had married widower Peter Gunness.  on 1 April, 1902.  But tragedy seemed to have followed Belle from Chicago.  That very summer, Peter’s young daughter had died after a short illness. And then in December, Peter himself had been struck on the head by a falling sausage grinder, and killed. Well, life on a farm was hard, and dangerous.  And "M.E". forced a smile as he stepped out to greet the lumbering,  280 pound now middle aged woman.  But this day Belle was not interested in pleasantries. Someone, Belle announced,  wanted to murder her.
Her tale had a tinge of unreality to "M.E,"'s ears.  He was one of the most prominent of the 14,000 citizens of La Porte,  Indiana. Fifteen passenger trains a day passed through on their way to and from Chicago, 60 miles to the northwest.  Perched atop the prairie, the town was surrounded by farms, including the one owned by "M.E.", and, of course,  Belle's.  But it was also home to the Meinaid Rumely Factory, whose 2,000 employees assembled steam powered thrashers,  and were rushing to manufacture one of the world’s first internal combustion farm tractors, the “Kerosene Annie”.
As befitted a prosperous middle class community, just down the street from "M.E."’s office stood the new red sandstone Romanesque Court House (above), with oak paneled court rooms and stained glass windows. The disturbed Belle and her accusations seemed more fitting to the lurid crime ridden alleys of Chicago than the small, quiet, proper and hard working Victorian style, La Porte, Indiana.
The potential assassin was Ray Lamphere (above), who until recently had been Belle’s hired hand. Six weeks ago, Belle said,  she had fired Ray, and he had threatened her and her two youngest daughters. “I'm afraid he's going to kill me and burn the house,” Belle told "M.E." . Thank goodness Belle’s eldest daughter, Jennie, was safely away at a finishing school in Los Angeles.  Yes, Belle had spoken with the police. Twice she had charged Ray with trespassing. But, explained the angry Belle,  the police had refused to grant her a protection order, and had dismissed her allegation that Ray was insane. Now, out of an excess of caution, Belle wanted to amend her will.  She wanted to be certain that her estate would to go to her children. And, if for some reason, they were deceased,  then Belle wanted all her property to go to a Norwegian orphanage back in Chicago.  "M.E." took down the information, and made an appointment for Belle to return in a few days to sign the completed document.
Then shocking news came with the morning light. There had been a terrible fire at the Gunness farm in the early morning hours of 28 April, 1908.  Despite the noble efforts of Belle’s new hired hand, and two passing men, no one had made it out of the house alive.  Eventually the beams and the furniture had crashed into the basement.
By noon the heat had retreated enough for workers to shift the ashes. There they found the pitiful bodies of Belle’s three children, Myrtle and Lucy Sorensen, and Philip Gunness, aged 5,  as well as the blackened, headless corpse of a woman presumed to be Belle. And when the cops arrested Ray Lamphere, he blurted out, “Did widow Gunness and the kids get out all right?”  It seemed an open and shut case. Except... when told of the bodies, and of the charges Belle had made against him the day before,  Ray was heard to ruefully say, “After all,  she wanted me killed because I knew too much..”  Was this the foundation for an insanity plea, or even self defense - from a woman?  But it did cause the police to pause for a moment.
And then there was the mystery of the woman’s body. When doctors examined the corpse they described it as belonging to a woman weighing no more than 150 pounds.  Neighbors who had sewn clothing for Belle were adamant that the corpse could not be Belle's   So back to the ashes went the searchers. And what they found raised even more questions; they found men’s pocket watches, rings and wallets. A lot of watches, rings and wallets.
While the police were still mulling over this perplexing development, a man named Ray Helgelien arrived in town,  looking for his brother.  Andrew Helgelien (above) had responded to a notice in a South Dakota lonely hearts column. “Wanted — a woman who owns a beautifully located and valuable farm in first class condition, wants a good and reliable man as partner in the same”.  The lady needed help paying off the farm's mortgage, and offered matrimony and love in return. After exchanging several letters, Andrew had left home with $300 cash in his pocket.  Ray had not heard from his brother for several weeks, and finally opened a final letter mailed to him, but arriving after he had left. It was post marked from La Porte. It read,  “My heart beats in wild rapture for you, My Andrew. I love you. Come prepared to stay forever.”  Having seen newspaper stories about the grisly finds in the burned out farm house, Ray suspected that Andrew may have done just  that.   Had Belle placed that notice?  The local post office confirmed that Belle had mailed and received 8 to 10 letters a day, for years. The searchers spread out across the farm and started digging.
First they found and disinterred the body of daughter Jennie,  who was supposed to have been away at school in Los Angeles.   Then, under the pig pen the searchers found the bodies of ten to fourteen men and women, many of whom had been last seen visiting Belle’s farm, or working  there as maids and cooks.
Included among these remains was a body identified as being that of Andrew (above). In his corpse, as is in many of the others, the medical examiner found cyanide. The police were now more than willing to think the worst. 
How many victims had been fed to Belle’s hogs, or buried in undiscovered graves elsewhere on the farm? When finally added up the list of known and suspected victims reached forty.  Belle Gunness could well have been the most prolific, and one of the most hard working serial murderess in American history.
The jury at Ray Lamphere’s trail found him not guilty of murder, but guilty of arson. The jury also issued a statement asserting that Belle’s body had been found in the ashes. That did not match what the medical examiner had to say about the body. And Ray insisted to the day he died that Belle had escaped.
For the next decade, sightings of Belle (above) were reported from all over America and Scandinavia. But the most intriguing story was that of Esther Carlson, who in 1931 was arrested in Los Angeles,  the location of Jennie's supposed finishing school.  Esther was charged with the murder of a Norwegian immigrant, which matched Belle's preferred victims.  Like Belle, Esther's motive was alleged to be theft of the victim's money.  Also like Belle, Esther's weapon of choice had been cyanide. But nothing was ever proved, and Esther died in jail  while awaiting trial.
But two expatriates from La Porte identified photos of Esther Carlson (above) as Belle Gunness. The ages and time lines seemed to match,  Belle would have been 71 years old in 1931, and if Belle had lost weight,... Could they have been the same person?  Did Belle slaughter every human being close to her,  pin it on a simpleton fall guy, and escape to California, where she went on making a living by killing?   If that seems a far fetched a tale, remember that it is the nature of most people, that when they hear of a tragedy,  their first thought is sympathy,  and almost never of evil - even though sometimes that is exactly what a tragedy is.
- 30 -

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

SISSYSPHUS ON THE WABASH

I want to take you back to a time when there were just two million Hoosiers in the whole wide world, and yet Indiana had 13 seats in the United States House of Representatives and 15 electoral votes. Today they have just nine,  and 11 electoral votes. Even more improbable to modern ears, this smallest state west of the Allegheny mountains was a crucial "battleground" state, oscillating like a bell clapper, clanging first Republican and then ringing Democratic, changing six times between 1876 and 1888, swinging each time at the whim of some 6,000 reasonably fickle independent voters.
One impeller of these rhythmic revolutions came in the winter of 1885 when the dynamic Democratic Governor Isaac Gray (above), dreamed of becoming President of the whole United States. Gray  decided that after being Governor, he wanted to be a United States Senator. And since Senators were elected by the legislature, which was split pretty evenly along party lines, Governor Gray came up with a clever plan to ensure himself  the stepping stone post of Senator. First he jammed through a gerrymander redistricting of the state legislative offices, re-designing ten traditionally Republican state assembly seats so they would more likely elect Democrats instead. This would prove to be such an outrageous power grab, a Federal court would finally declare it unconstitutional in 1892. But that was all part of Gray's plan, because he knew the voters would take their revenge far sooner than the courts.
So, in the summer of 1886, Grey convinced his Democratic Lieutenant Governor, Mahlon Manson. to take early retirement. Then he scheduled a mid-term election to refill that post. And as Gray had expected, the Republican base was so energized by the Democratic gerrymander, that their party was swept back into power that November with a 10,000 vote majority, recapturing seven of those redistricted Assembly seats that were supposed to go Democratic.  (The state Senate, remained unchanged at  31 Democrats and 19 Republicans.)  
But more importantly for Governor Gray, the newly elected Lieutenant Governor was a Republican, Robert Robertson. Thus, should Democrat Gray offer his resignation as Governor in exchange for being elected U.S. Senator, the Republican dominated Assembly would probably go along because that would make the Republican Robertson the new Governor. Now, such ambition was not an impossible dream, as another Hoosier politician would shortly prove – one Benaman Harrison.
Yes, Grey (above) had a nifty plan, clever enough to be worthy of Machiavelli. But it faced one insurmountable hurdle. Governor Isaac Grey was without doubt the most hated Democratic governor among Democrats, in the entire history of the state of Indiana. He was the original DINO -  a Democrat in Name Only.
Twenty years earlier, at the close of the Civil War, this same Isaac Grey,  had been the Republican Speaker of the state Assembly (above).  To pass the 13th, 14th and 15th Amendments to the U.S. Constitution, making ex-slaves American citizens, and giving black males the right to vote, Speaker Grey had literally locked the doors, preventing Democrats from bolting the building and thus denying a quorum to the Republican majority. While the trapped Democrats sulked in the cloak room, Speaker Grey staged successful votes for the three Constitutional Amendments. It had been a brutal scheme, again worthy of Machiavelli, - like Gray's latest plot.. But the Democrats never forgot Grey had counted them as "present but not voting",  even after he had switched to the Democrats and gave them the Governorship.  And as the Assembly session for 1887 opened, these hard liners were willing to set the state on fire if they could also burn up their Governor's Presidential dream boat.
The Indiana State Senate (above)  was about to come into session at  9:35 on the morning of Saturday 24 February, 1887, when Republican Lt. Governor Robertson entered the second floor chambers to take his seat as the new President pro tempore of the Senate.  But a flying squad of Democrats physically blocked him from reaching the dais. He shouted from the floor, "Gentlemen of the Senate, I have been by force excluded from the position to which the people of this state elected me.” But at this point the out going President pro tempore, Democratic Senator Alonzo Smith, ordered doorkeeper Frank Pritchett, to remove the Lt. Governor, “...if he don't stop speaking.”
As the doorkeeper and his assistants advanced on Roberts, the duly elected president pro tempo announced, “They may remove me. I am here, unarmed.” Smith testily responded, “We are all unarmed. We are fore-armed, though.” That belligerent mood was now general in the chamber. Republican Senator DeMotte from Porter county shouted something from the floor, and acting President Smith ordered him to take his seat. Responded DeMotte, “When he gets ready, he will.”
As the Lt. Governor was dragged toward the rear doors of the Senate Chamber a Republican Senator shouted that if he went, all the Republicans were going with him. President Pro tem temp Smith shouted back, “They can go if they want to. They will be back, ” he predicted. At this point Republican Senator Johnson challenged the chair directly, telling him, “No man will be scared by you.” “You're awfully scared now, “ said the Democrat. “Not by you”, answered the Republican. It sounded like five year olds had taken over the state senate.
A general fight now broke out in the Senate chamber, with the outnumbered Republicans giving such a good account of themselves that one Democrat drew a pistol and – BANG! - shot a hole in the brand new ceiling of the still unfinished statehouse. Into the acrid gun smoke and sudden silence this unnamed Democrat announced that he was prepared to start killing Republicans if they kept fighting.
With that, Lt. Governor Robertson was thrown out of the Senate and the doors were locked and bolted behind him. As the official record notes those were “...the last words spoken by a Republican Senator in the 55th General Assembly.” The Senate then tried to get back to business, appropriately taking up Senate bill 61, setting aside $100,000 for three new hospitals for the mentally insane. It was decided it was self evident the state was going to need them, and the measure was approved by a vote officially recorded as 31 Ayes, 0 nays and 18 “present but not voting”. Ah, revenge must have seemed sweet for the Democrats – for about half an hour.
Outside in the central atrium, the gunshot had attracted a crowd, mostly from the Republican controlled House on the East side of the capital. Faced with a bruised and enraged Robertson, the Republicans caught his anger. Similar fights sparked to life in the chamber of the House of Representatives, and a “mob” of 600 angry Republicans descended upon every wayward Democrat in the building, punching and kicking them, and, if they resisted, beating them down to the marble floors of the brand new “people's house”.
Eventually, the pandemonium returned to its source; the Republicans laid siege to the Senate chamber. They beat against the doors, and smashed open a transom. Vengeful Republicans poured in and the haughty Democrats were assaulted in their own chamber and thrown out of it. By now Democrat Governor Grey, down in his offices on the first floor, had heard the ruckus upstairs, and had called in the Indianapolis Police. Four hours after the legislative riot had begun, order was restored to the capital of Hoosier democracy. History and many newspapers would record it as the “Black Day of the Indiana Assembly.”
The following Monday the triumphant Republican dominated Assembly dispatched a note to the battered Democratically controlled Senate, that the Repubs would have no further correspondence with the Dems. Snap of finger dismissal. The Senate counter-informed the lower house, ditto, and same to you.. State government in Indiana had ground to a halt. Lt. Governor Robertson never presided over the Senate, and Governor Gray never served as a Untied States Senator. He came to be known as the “Sisyphus of the Wabash”, after the legendary Greek king, renown for his avariciousness and deceit. A few years later Hoosiers elected to choose their Senators by popular vote,  I suppose under the theory that the general population of drunks and lunatics could do no worse then the professional politicians had already done.  And they were most certainly correct.
- 30 

Thursday, May 10, 2018

THE BELLE OF BEDLAM

I wonder what was going through the mind of lawyer M.E. Leliter, on the afternoon 27 April, 1908, when he was told Mrs. Belle Gunness was in the anteroom of his Main Street office. I doubt he was pleased to see her. But you never think the worse, do you?  Belle was a genial and pleasant, 48 year old church-going woman, but substantial. And at 6 feet, even taller than "M.E.".  Community gossips said that Belle had been seen carrying two 100 pound hogs, one under each arm.. Still, "M.E." thought he could detect the aura of hidden pain behind Belle's sharp blue Nordic eyes.
In Chicago, the stout young Belle (above) had buried two of her children -  not an unusual tragedy in the nineteenth century.  But then,  in 1900,  her husband Anton Sorenson, had died of heart disease. With the proceeds from Anton’s two life insurance policies,  Belle and her three daughters had purchesed a farm on the northeast outskirts of La Porte Indiana, out on McClung Road past Pine and Fish Trap lakes. 
It was there a year later she had married widower Peter Gunness.  on 1 April, 1902.  But tragedy seemed to have followed Belle.  That very summer, Peter’s young daughter had died after a short illness. And then in December, Peter himself had been struck on the head by a falling sausage grinder, and killed. Well, life on a farm was hard, and dangerous.  And "M.E". forced a smile as he stepped out to greet the lumbering,  280 pound now middle aged woman.  But this day Belle was not interested in pleasantries. Someone, Belle announced,  wanted to murder her.
Her tale had a tinge of unreality to "M.E,"'s ears.  He was one of the most prominent of the 14,000 citizens of La Porte,  Indiana. Fifteen passenger trains a day passed through on their way to Chicago, 60 miles to the northwest.  Perched atop the prairie, the town was surrounded by farms, including the one owned by "M.E.", and, of course,  Belle's. But it was also home to the Meinaid Rumely Factory, whose 2,000 employees assembled steam powered thrashers,  and were rushing to manufacture one of the world’s first internal combustion farm tractors, the “Kerosene Annie”.
As befitted a prosperous middle class community, just down the street from "M.E."’s office stood the new red sandstone Romanesque Court House (above), with oak paneled court rooms and stained glass windows. The disturbed Belle and her accusations seemed more fitting to the lurid crime ridden alleys of Chicago than the small, quiet, proper, Victorian, La Porte, Indiana.
The potential assassin was Ray Lamphere (above), who until recently had been Belle’s hired hand. Six weeks ago, Belle said,  she had fired Ray, and he had threatened her and her two youngest daughters. “I'm afraid he's going to kill me and burn the house,” Belle told "M.E." . Thank goodness Belle’s eldest daughter, Jennie, was safely away at a finishing school in Los Angeles.  Yes, Belle had spoken with the police. Twice she had charged Ray with trespassing. But, explained the angry Belle,  the police had refused to grant her a protection order, and had dismissed her allegation that Ray was insane. Now, out of an excess of caution, Belle wanted to amend her will.  She wanted to be certain that her estate would to go to her children. And, if for some reason, they were deceased,  then Belle wanted all her property to go to a Norwegian orphanage back in Chicago.  "M.E." took down the information, and made an appointment for Belle to return in a few days to sign the completed document.
Then shocking news came with the morning light. There had been a terrible fire at the Gunness farm in the early morning hours of 28 April, 1908.  Despite the noble efforts of Belle’s new hired hand, and two passing men, no one had made it out of the house alive.  Eventually the beams and the furniture had crashed into the basement.
By noon the heat had retreated enough for workers to shift the ashes. There they found the pitiful bodies of Belle’s three children, Myrtle and Lucy Sorensen, and Philip Gunness, aged 5,  as well as the blackened, headless corpse of a woman presumed to be Belle. And when the cops arrested Ray Lamphere, he blurted out, “Did widow Gunness and the kids get out all right?”  It seemed an open and shut case. Except... when told of the bodies, and of the charges Belle had made against him the day before,  Ray was heard to ruefully say, “After all,  she wanted me killed because I knew too much..”  Was this the foundation for an insanity plea, or even self defense - from a woman?  But it did cause the police to think.
And then there was the mystery of the woman’s body. When doctors examined the corpse they described it as belonging to a woman weighing no more than 150 pounds.  Neighbors who had sewn clothing for Belle were adamant that the corpse could not be Belle's   So back to the ashes went the searchers. And what they found raised even more questions; they found men’s pocket watches, rings and wallets. A lot of watches, rings and wallets.
While the police were still mulling over this perplexing development, a man named Ray Helgelien arrived in town,  looking for his brother.  Andrew Helgelien (above) had responded to a notice in a South Dakota lonely hearts column. “Wanted — a woman who owns a beautifully located and valuable farm in first class condition, wants a good and reliable man as partner in the same”.  The lady needed help paying off the farm's mortgage, and offered matrimony and love in return. After exchanging several letters, Andrew had left home with $300 cash in his pocket.  Ray had not heard from his brother for several weeks, and finally opened the last last letter, post marked from La Porte. It read,  “My heart beats in wild rapture for you, My Andrew. I love you. Come prepared to stay forever.”  Having seen newspaper stories about the grisly finds in the La Porte burned out farm house, Ray suspected that Andrew may have done just  that.   Had Belle placed that notice?  The local post office confirmed that Belle had mailed and received 8 to 10 letters a day, for years. The searchers spread out across the farm and started digging.
First they found and disinterred the body of daughter Jennie,  who was supposed to have been away at school in Los Angeles.   Then, under the pig pen the searchers found the bodies of ten to fourteen men and women, many of whom had been last seen visiting Belle’s farm, or working  there as maids and cooks.
Included among these remains was a body identified as being that of Andrew (above). In his corpse, as is in many of the others, the medical examiner found cyanide. The police were now more than willing to think the worst. 
How many victims had been fed to Belle’s hogs, or buried in undiscovered graves elsewhere on the farm? When finally added up the list of known and suspected victims reached forty.  Belle Gunness could well have been the most prolific, and one of the most hard working serial murderess in American history.
The jury at Ray Lamphere’s trail found him not guilty of murder, but guilty of arson. The jury also issued a statement asserting that Belle’s body had been found in the ashes. That did not match what the medical examiner had to say about the body. And Ray insisted to the day he died that Belle had escaped.
For the next decade, sightings of Belle (above) were reported from all over America and Scandinavia. But the most intriguing story was that of Esther Carlson, who in 1931 was arrested in Los Angeles,  the location of Jennie's supposed finishing school.  Esther was charged with the murder of a Norwegian immigrant, which matched Belle's preferred victims.  Like Belle, Esther's motive was alleged to be theft of the victim's money.  Also like Belle, Esther's weapon of choice had been cyanide. But nothing was ever proved, and Esther died in jail  while awaiting trial.
But two expatriates from La Porte identified photos of Esther Carlson (above) as Belle Gunness. The ages were a close, Belle would have been 71 years old in 1931, and if Belle had lost weight,... Could they have been the same person?  Did Belle slaughter every human being close to her,  pin it on a simpleton fall guy, and escape to California, where she went on making a living by killing?   If that seems far fetched a tale, remember that it is the nature of most people, that when they hear of a tragedy,  their first thought is sympathy,  and almost never of evil - even though sometimes that is exactly what a tragedy is.
- 30 -

Saturday, February 24, 2018

THE TRIUMPH OF GEOGRAPHY

I admit that it would be an oversimplification to say Detroit became the center of the American auto industry because in 1863, Henry Ford (above) was born in it's suburb of Dearborn, Michigan. That accident of birth may have been why, out of the thousands of backyard inventors and tinkers it was Henry who in just 30 years went from failure to earning the modern equivalent $188 billion. But the real key to Detroit's success was just good old geography.
See, in 1900, there were 8,000 automobiles in America,built by over 1,000 inventors from Bangor, Maine to San Francisco. But a realistic look at the market showed that if you wanted to be successful at making cars you needed six things – steel, coal, rubber, cheap land for your plant, workers and customers. And it turned out that 1900 Detroit, was the perfect time and place for all those things to come together. Well, not perfect. It was a compromise, but as compromises go, it was perfect.
First, if you want to make steel, you need iron ore, and around the northwestern edge of Lake Superior – in the forests of Minnesota, Wisconsin, Ontario, Canada and the upper peninsula of Michigan – were some of the world's richest outcrops of soft cherty iron oxides. Humans started mining this iron in the 1840's, when the ore was so rich it could go straight into a smelter. 
They started out producing iron right next to the mines, heating the ore over wood fires to over 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit and then scraping off the impurities. But you can't make an automobile out of iron. You need steel.
The forests that surrounded the mines might have supplied enough fuel to turn that iron into steel, but burning one pound of wood only gives you about 7,000 British Thermal Units of heat. However burning a pound of coal produces almost 3 times as many BTUs. The problem was the nearest coal deposits were 1,500 miles and more to the south. 
Ships being the cheapest method to carry bulk cargoes,investors, mostly from Cleveland, Ohio, built fleets to transport ore out of Lake Superior, through Lake Huron to the bottom of Lake Michigan and Lake Erie.  Where in the 1840's they could connect to the Erie Canal and reach New York City.
In 1903, at the age of 39, Henry Ford had his third try at making automobiles - The Ford Motor Company. Henry had little money left to invest, and was installed as Vice President of his own company. The new factory (above)  was in the Milwaukee Junction neighborhood of Detroit, and it was already home to a few other would-be automakers. But the largest industry in town was making heating and cooking stoves. Which they made out of iron.
Ford Motor Company's first car, the Model “A”, was a 2 seat “runabout” with an 8 horse power engine under the driver's seat. It only came in one color – red – and was advertised as “The most reliable machine in the world”, which it was not. Still, Ford sold 1,708 cars in 1903, and was able to offer an improved model, the “AC”, in 1904, with a 10 horse power engine. That year they also introduced the Model “B”, with it's 24 horsepower engine up front. But the “B” cost 3 times what the Model “A” did, and did not sale well.
In 1900 the southernmost port on Lake Michigan was Hammond, Indiana. And about 60 miles due south of Hammond was the Kankakee Arch, the northern rim of the 500 million year old subterranean Illinois Basin. It lies under most of Illinois, half of Indiana, a big chunk of Kentucky and a sliver of Tennessee. Since 1900, the basin has produced well over 8 billion tons of coal.
By 1901, the furnaces of Hammond were importing 2 ½ million tons of iron ore every year. A new port was constructed 30 miles to the east, to serve what became 6 steel mills pouring out smoke from the Illinois border the U.S. Steel's new mammoth plant in Gary Indiana. 
They called it the Calumet Steel District, and it boasted 37 open furnaces, 8 blast furnaces, with endless lines of rolling mills that would employ 200,000 workers, producing, in 1925, some 8 ½ million tons of steel. And since the rail roads were already delivering coal to the Calumet, it was a minor investment to extend those rails to new electrical generating plants in Chicago.
In 1906, Ford introduced the luxury Model “K”, powered by a 6 cylinder, 40 horsepower engine. They sold less than 1,000 Model K's but the profit margin per car was high enough to make the “K” successful. Despite this Henry was more enthusiastic about his 4 cylinder Model “N” (above), which sold over 2,190 cars in 1906. That year, Henry bought out the chief supporter of the Model “K”. Alexander Malcomson. And as the new President of the Ford Motor Company, Henry was now free to discontinue production of the “K”, and pursue his dream to “Democratize the Automobile”.
A little over 200 miles southeast of Detroit, and about 40 miles south east of Cleveland, on the western edge of the Pennsylvania coal fields, is Akron, Ohio.  Dr. Benjamin Franklin Goodrich had moved his rubber manufacturing company (above) to Akron in 1875, because of the cheap land, convenient canals and railroads, and the labor supply.  But mostly because 25 feet under the sandstone foundations of Akron, there was a lot of coal.
See, back in 1860, the British chemist Charles Greville Williams had described the chemical that made rubber act like rubber – latex. And once described in living plants, the same molecules were quickly found in dead plants – like coal. In particular the kind of coal underlying Akron, Ohio. 
The new synthetic latex wasn't as good as natural rubber. It was better, because in cooking up each batch, you could tweak the recipe for whatever product you were making – like fire hoses or rubber gloves (above) or tubing...
...or tires and inner tubes for the 1890's bicycle craze.  And with that was why Akron, thousands of miles from the nearest rubber tree plantation, became the “Rubber Capital of the World”.
The bicycle craze brought new companies to Akron, like Diamond, Universal, and Goodyear, and, in 1900, a buggy wagon salesman named Harvey Firestone. (above)  Harvey decided to specialize in mass producing pneumatic tires for buggy's and wagons. Many a farmer's ass thanked Harvey Firestone for that innovation. 
And, in 1907, when Henry Ford (above, left) went looking for somebody who could supply enough tires and rubber belts and gaskets for his “car for the multitude”, Harvey (above, right)  was the right man in the right business.
In January of 1907, the 44 year old Henry Ford set up a work shop on the third floor of his factory to design his new car. It had to be simple to assemble and cheap to build. Henry wanted it to be light enough, simple enough and rugged enough that the average customer could maintain it by himself. It had to survive the rutted and pockmarked unpaved roads of America. Presented to the world in the fall of 1908, it would be Henry Ford's Model “T”.
That same year Henry bought a factory 4 miles north of Detroit in Highland Park, Michigan, from the Dodge Brothers -  who had been building engines there for Ford -  Henry also acquired 60 adjoining acres of farmland. Here he would build a massive new factory (above), large enough to allow him to experiment in assembling his Model “T”. 
It was here the Industrial Assembly Line would be born, and all but a handful of the 15 million “T” Fords would be built here, gobbling up the steel from the Calumet mills and rubber from Akron..
Owners called her the Tin Lizzie, the Bouncing Betty and the Mechanical Cockroach. The “T” had no fuel pump, so you had to drive uphill in reverse. It had no oil pump. Crankcase oil splashed up onto the cylinders, as well as down onto the ground. To avoid excessive breakage, each linkage of the chassis had a generous amount of “give”, which resulted in a very talkative car .
How do you tell the difference between a rattlesnake and a Model “T”? You can count the rattles on a snake.  Owners did not need a speedometer. At ten miles an hour the hood rattled. At fifteen the radiator rattled. At twenty the top rattled. And at twenty-five miles an hour the transmission fell out. 
It was alleged Henry Ford was training squirrels to run behind each new Model “T” to collect the nuts as they fell off.  
Model “T”s came in only one color – black.  But, went another joke, why did they paint Chevy's Green? So they could hide in the grass and watch all the Fords go by. 
However, one owner insisted he wanted to be buried in his Model “T”, because “its gotten me out of every hole I've ever been in.”
Three hundred and fifty miles almost due south of Henry Ford's new factory, was the college town of Bloomington, Indiana (above) . In 1910 it had less than 10,000 inhabitants, whose primary occupations were farming, quarrying the local limestone, making furniture, and tending to the residents of Indiana University. The town boasted a new courthouse, 5 churches, 2 railroad stations, 2 theaters, and a new library. I.U.'s claim to fame was coach James Sheldon's team which did not give up a single touchdown during their 6 and 1 season. But Bloomington had yet another reason to celebrate the year of 1910.
Near the corner of North Rodgers and West 8th Street, the United States Census Bureau had calculated was the exact physical balance point of the 92,228,496 American citizens enumerated in the 1910 census. 
In short, half of Henry Ford's potential customers lived east of Bloomington, and half west. And half of his potential customers lived north and half lived south of this imaginary fulcrum - 39 degrees, 17 minutes north latitude and 86 degrees 53 minutes west longitude.
In the decade Henry Ford was building his company that center had shifted west 36 miles from outside of Columbus, Indiana to Bloomington. In the coming decade of the Model “T”, it would shift another 28 miles west northwest to just outside of Spencer Indiana. And by the time they finally ended production of the Model “T” in 1928, the center of the customer pool would have moved another 31 miles west southwest to the little town of Linton, Indiana. Each following decade, the center of the customer base would move a little farther from Detroit and farther from Henry Ford.
Henry supposedly retired in 1918, turning control over to his son, Edsel. But that was just a scam, to remove his opponents from the board of directors.  By the time America became involved in World War Two, Henry's corporation had produced more than 29 million automobiles. But he had suffered a series of strokes in the late 1930's, and Edsel became the true president of Ford Motor Company. 
Then in 1943, Edsel died of a stroke, and Henry took up the reins again. But age and wear  ate away at his attention span. Under his tenure Ford Motor Company lost $10 million a month. As his mind faded, his daughter-in-law sued to take control of his company, and installed Henry's grandson, Edsel Ford II as new president.
Henry Ford died in the waning moments of Monday, 7 April, 1947, at 83 years of age.  His funeral procession (above) passed the headquarters of all the major automakers in Detroit, and their employees stood at the curb, to pay homage to the man who had built their industry. 
Henry Ford was a life long antisemitic, and used his fortune to finance antisemitism worldwide.  He also built the first mosque in the United States, for his Muslim employees.  He did business with Nazi Germany, and Hitler praised Henry in speeches.  At home, Henry paid thugs to brutalize labor union organizers.  He also hired African Americans, and paid them equal to white workers.  He was suspicious of mathematics, and as long as he was in control, Ford Motor Company was never audited. Perhaps Henry's ignorance was understandable, since his mother had died when he was 12 and his father had forced him to leave school at 15 to work on the farm.  He hated his father's farm.  It was why the publicity department at Ford Motor Company usually photographed Henry in his machines. He understood machines.  
In short, Henry Ford was a human being, smart and stupid, kind and cruel, arrogant and humble, sometimes in the same moment. He worked hard every day of his life. He was very rich, but wealth merely magnified his faults and strengths. What made Henry Ford one of the richest human beings on the planet, had surprisingly little to do with Henry. It was really just geography.
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