Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

Contents lists available at ScienceDirect

The Extractive Industries and Society journal homepage: www.elsevier.com/locate/exis

Original Article

Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects Fred Sutherland * Michigan Technological University, Social Sciences, 1400 Townsend Avenue, Houghton, MI, United States

A R T I C L E I N F O

A B S T R A C T

Article history: Received 30 June 2014 Received in revised form 12 April 2015 Available online xxx

The Cuyuna Iron Mining Range is a former North American mining district located about 90 miles (145 km) west of Duluth in Central Minnesota. The district is the furthest south and west of the three Minnesota iron ranges (Vermillion, Mesabi, and Cuyuna). It was a strategic supplier of iron ores with the qualities needed by North American steel mills in two world wars. After the rapid decline of mining in the Cuyuna Range during late 1960s; however, much of the mining infrastructure was abandoned. A landscape of former mine communities and scenic lakes where mine pits once were located now remains, but unlike Minnesota’s other two major iron mining ranges, very little has been done identify and promote features of the Cuyuna’s mining heritage to a wider audience. This paper examines the surviving features of the Cuyuna Iron Range that made this district important. It reports findings from surveys of seven iron mining communities which aimed to broaden the understanding of important local sites. The data generated from this effort are being used to inform plans for cultural tourism focused on the iron mining heritage of the Cuyuna Iron Range. ß 2015 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.

Keywords: Industrial archeology Cultural tourism Iron mining heritage Historic property survey Placemaking

1. Introduction Scholars studying communities that once supported mining tend to focus upon the historical documents and sites related to the mining era. Far fewer scholars pay attention to the present-day community trying to survive without the economic revenues those activities had provided. Community planners and development agencies that engage with former mining communities may provide token acknowledgment of a region’s mining heritage. These may be in the form of simple signs or logos depicting workers. However, the redevelopment plans promoted by those agencies frequently demolish, obscure, or ignore the buildings and sites that had the greatest significance to that community. Plans that address modern community interests and feature remarkable sites from a region’s mining heritage can change how communities with mining heritage are portrayed. One region that has undergone phases of mining decline, historical assessment, and economic redevelopment is the Central Minnesota iron mining district known as the Cuyuna Range. Efforts to understand, preserve, and

* Tel.: +1 518 755 0913. E-mail addresses: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected]

promote the mining heritage of this area contain lessons which can be applied to the other mining communities. Two other important regions that feature mining heritage are the networks of mining heritage sites listed on the European Route of Industrial Heritage (ERIH) and the public/private partnerships in the former copper mining district of the Keweenaw Peninsula of Michigan. The latter example involves the National Park Service promoting several privately owned sites related to copper mining as part of the Keweenaw National Historical Park (KNHP). The National Park Service headquarters for this collaboration is located in the community in Calumet, Michigan. Many other mining heritage sites are featured as a single site or community to represent what was once a district-scale mining network, such as the Soudan Underground Mine State Park in Tower, Minnesota. These examples have provided some inspiration on how to portray the Cuyuna Range’s mining heritage to a wider audience. However, the top-down approach of these state, national, or multi-national organizations can make it difficult for the communities within these mining districts to directly shape how the heritage of their region is shared with the rest of the world. Most recently, Liesch (2014) noted how many local residents within the KNHP had little knowledge about basic park information, including the boundaries and sites comprising the park. Having members of the local community involved with the process of gathering and developing content about a region’s

http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003 2214-790X/ß 2015 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 2

F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

mining heritage can reshape how it is featured as a destination. In 2012, partnerships between students and staff of Michigan Technological University were forged between members from the communities associated with the Cuyuna Iron Mining Range of Minnesota in 2012. This collaboration has led to new opportunities and identified key challenges related to mining heritage and tourism. During interactions between members of an ‘‘industrial communities’’ and scholars, it became clear that more than one academic approach would be needed to understand and portray the various aspects of life in a mining district. Since ‘‘industrial communities’’ is not a commonly used term in the social sciences, a thorough explanation is required. 2. Defining an industrial community Industrial communities, such as those which formed in the Cuyuna Iron Range during the 20th-century, are an integral part of the transformations wrought by industrialization on human societies across the world in recent centuries. Industrial-scale production and extraction often required concentrations of labor and capital beyond the levels sustained by small agrarian settlements. Industrialists in North America and Europe frequently had to develop communities to house and support a working population for their industrial operations when there were no nearby urban centers. The limitations of transportation available for working populations in North America and Europe prior to the wide availability of personal automobiles in the 1950s further compounded the challenges of housing and supporting a workforce close to the center of an industrial enterprise. These circumstances, which are typical of places undergoing industrialization, create communities that are often highly dependent upon a single industrial process. They typically contain dense populations of people often spanning various ethnicities, genders, and classes. These communities may or may-not include members of the laborer’s family. Scholars in the disciplines of history, anthropology, and archeology have investigated the records, populations, landscapes, and artifacts associated with communities in and around industrial sites. These three disciplines share scholarly interest in the concepts of space, power, ethnicity, gender, and the impacts of industry upon the health and environment of industrial communities. The methodological range of each discipline offers valuable insights about industrial communities which strengthens and deepens our understanding of them. 2.1. Historians of class construction, community interaction, and corporate influence The early development of industrial communities in the Cuyuna Range occurred from around 1910 to 1932. This period was dictated by how groups of immigrant workers formed class identities around institutions such as worker’s halls and ethnic associations. Many scholars have carefully explored class formation within industrialized societies, although historians were the first scholars to closely study industrial communities. Prior to the 1960s, very few scholars had investigated the industry and community of a particular region with equal attention. One of the first works to accomplish this balance was historian E.P. Thompson’s The Making of the English Working Class (1963). Thompson focused on the transformation of agrarian and crafting societies in Northern England into a more modern-looking industrial workforce organized around the concept of class. In particular, Thompson investigated the forces leading to the political formation of a self-conscious working class that could articulate its grievances collectively. In North America, historians Dawley (1976) and Dublin (1979) undertook similar explorations

of class or group formation among the shoemakers of Lynn and the renowned ‘‘mill girls’’ of Lowell, Massachusetts. Around the 1970s and 1980s North American historians began investigating how industrial communities sustained themselves physically and economically. Buder (1970) explored the arrangement of community structures and underlying ideals within a railcar manufacturing company town. The author investigated how the company town of Pullman, Illinois was ultimately unable to meet the idealistic visions its creators had for creating a healthy and content working population. Gaventa’s (1980) study of coal mining communities included a more detailed investigation of management’s role in shaping how industrial communities develop. The author revealed how managerial policy permeated the society that Appalachian coal miners lived in. These policies framed the ways miners could and could not resist company control. The Cuyuna Iron Range in the 20th-century displayed many complex economic, social and political arrangements. Most scholars before the 1980s only explored one or two dimensions of what makes an industrial community. Since the 1980s, historians have written about industrial communities with a greater appreciation for the interactions that ethnicity, gender, and class have within an industrial community. Their research does not attempt to study an industrial community as economic or labor historians had done. Instead, recent scholars have focused upon how segments of an industrial community interacted with one another. Examples of this work are presented in Arnesen (1993), Kelly (2001), and Dunaway (1996, 2003). Shifflett showed how constructed communities and company policies in the coal mining districts of Appalachia did not destroy or limit the ability of workers to shape their own identity. Arnesen (1993) and Kelly (2001) both emphasized the factors of race in working communities in the southeastern United States. Notably, the former explored the formation of biracial labor coalitions which are able to briefly overcome strong racial divisions within Post-Bellum New Orleans. He demonstrated how managers carefully orchestrated radicalized attitudes between white and black workers in order to divide and defeat efforts to unionize their workforce. The commodity chains of mineral extraction with sites of production are another important perspective that can be revealed by the activities of the Cuyuna Iron Range in the 20th-century. The aspect of the Cuyuna Range that is most often mentioned by iron mining historians is the unusual, but not unique, inclusion of manganese in much of the Cuyuna’s iron ore bodies. Manganese is an important ingredient for making hard steels. This deposit of low grade ferro-manganese ore was recognized during the 20thcentury as a vital strategic resource for North America’s steel industry (Lamppa, 2004, p. 193; Himrod, 1940, p. 61). Cuyuna iron ores containing manganese played a strategic role as the largest domestic supply of manganese to the steel industry of the United States through two world wars and the Korean War. During the Cuyuna Range’s first boom years from 1913 to 1919 around the time of the World War I, international supplies of manganese, mostly originating from Russia, had been cut off. These circumstances heightened the importance of Cuyuna’s ore for steel manufacturers in the United States (Lamppa, 2004, p. 193). One example of how scholars use the study of commodity chains within and between industrial communities is described by Dunaway (1996). The author introduced a careful investigation of household and regional economics to demonstrate that the socalled ‘‘backward’’ and ‘‘isolated’’ communities of Appalachia were deeply tied to the economy of the eastern port cities and global exchanges of commodities. Dunaway’s (2003) second work investigated how black families in Appalachia endured a form of ‘‘super-exploitation,’’ specifically how workers had to supply much of their own food and clothing, often through the efforts of women

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

working in the home, so that owners of marginally profitable plantations and industries in Appalachia could survive. A similar ‘‘super-exploitation’’ situation occurred early in the Cuyuna Range when miners were required to pay for their own tools. It proved to be one of the most resented features of the district’s contract mining system and would spark a ‘‘wildcat strike’’ in 1913. Robert Gordon’s A Landscape Transformed explored an iron mining and smelting district in Northeastern Connecticut. His approach demonstrated how people living in the region adjusted the ways they engaged with their landscape as the production of iron waxed and waned from the 18th to the 20th centuries. He focused on the effects that logging, mining, and controlling waterways had upon how people lived in the landscape. After the 1850s most iron-making industries in the region avoided competition for mass quantities of iron and steel. This choice led to a gradual decline in iron production to the point where forests were allowed to regrow, mine pits turned into recreational lakes, and land where piles of mine tailings existed were redeveloped for domestic housing (pp. 115–116). Many of these changes have occurred or are occurring on the former iron mining landscape of the Cuyuna Range. The environmental and social impacts of mining in the Midwest during the late 19th and early 20th-century are significant and ongoing. Using Gordon’s approach to landscapes through the lens of industrial ecology can help uncover the relationship people had with their mine environment. Major accidents such as mine collapses, landslides of tailings, or major fluctuations in the water table would have had very real impacts on the mine community and how they continued to live in their industrial landscape. The Cuyuna Range was propelled into the headlines of papers across the midwest when an accident at the Milford Mine claimed the lives of 41 miners in 1924. This accident fits with a pattern of rapid industrial development described by other scholars of industrial communities. Wallace conducted a detailed study of community, mining, and disasters. His research provided features that help inform the social and environmental issues that led to accidents like the Milford Mine Disaster on the Cuyuna Range. The author followed the rise of a coal mining district through the perspectives of the mine owners and the communities that supported the operations. Wallace skillfully portrayed business and laborer’s viewpoints on the mining practices and how they were lived-out by those in the coal district. One of Wallace’s conclusions about the mentality of the coal mine operators in 19th century Pennsylvania was particularly revealing. The author stated that these owners felt they had to choose between a sure loss, on the one hand, and, on the other, the substantial probability of a larger loss combined with a small probability of no loss at all, they tended to choose the risky alternative. . .. They avoided the sure financial loss attendant upon taking all recommended safety precautions and opted for the more risky and ultimately more costly, alternative of neglecting safety and gambling they could ‘get away with it. [pp. 449–450] The owners of the Milford Mine, a generation later and thousands of miles away from St. Claire, Pennsylvania, were in haste to bring their iron ore to market. They may have also been making a similar wager with their miners, as had the owners of the coal mines of St. Claire, Pennsylvania in order to maximize their short-term profits. Three other relevant historians that have published works related to industrial communities in the last 20 years. They are Crawford (1995), Lankton (1997) and Alanen (2007). These authors have taken a more sophisticated view of industrial communities than many scholars prior to the 1980s. Crawford (1995) investigated how company towns and company policies changed

3

from 1890 to 1940s, giving equal weight to the influence of managers and workers in shaping how these closely controlled industrial communities operated. Lankton (1997) shared some connections to earlier scholars like Wallace, providing a broad analysis of an entire industrial society and exploring its development gradually over time. He enriched his study of mining communities with sections that focused on the distinctive ethnic practices of the pioneering copper mine settlements of the Keweenaw Peninsula in Michigan and how a snowy winter climate challenged and changed the ways that this industrial community sustained itself. In addition to exploring ethnic practices of the pioneering mine settlements, Lankton (1997) also looked at technological change and social unrest among the communities in the Keweenaw Peninsula of Michigan. He deftly tied the development of the one-man-drill for underground copper mining to significant social unrest in the region. In Minnesota’s Cuyuna Iron Range, no specific technological change can be traced to a rise in labor unrest. However, there were developments in mining practices after 1920 toward greater output in open pit mines using ever-larger excavation machines that needed fewer laborers. This likely helped to increase the population of unemployed miners that were the political base for the election of Karl Emil Nygard, the communist mayor of Crosby, the largest community in the Cuyuna Range at the height of the Great Depression in 1932. Like Michigan’s Copper Country, there were significant populations of first and second generation immigrants from Italy and Finland in the Cuyuna Range. These politically well-organized immigrants joined with Balkan immigrants in effectively resisting the policies of mining companies by striking in 1913 and at the ballot-box in 1932. Both the Copper Country of Michigan and Cuyuna Range of Minnesota share very cold, and sometimes harsh, winters. However, the most important environmental factors limiting the development in the Cuyuna Range were the obscured nature of the Cuyuna’s iron deposits coupled with the large amount of privately held land. Until the arrival of Longyear’s diamond-core drill technology in the early 20th-century, the Cuyuna Range would remain hidden beneath hundreds of feet of glacial soils. After the Cuyuna Range had been producing iron ore for 17 years, events such as the Milford Mine Disaster in 1924 revealed that regardless of who or what was at fault, that the underlying geology of the district was still not well understood. Much like the Copper Country of Michigan, as the highest grade and most easily exploitable deposits were removed in the Cuyuna Range it faced increasing challenges to remain competitive with other mining districts. Alanen (2007) contributed to modern scholarship on industrial communities by analyzing how that company town related to the larger neighboring urban centers of Duluth, Minnesota and Superior, Wisconsin both socially and economically through the 20th-century. In many ways, the two Cuyuna Range communities of Ironton and Crosby, Minnesota shared a similar relationship: one held more of the entertainments and vices while the other contained many of the wealthier working-class and middlemanagement housing. Historic records are rich with interesting examples about the formation and conflicts within industrial communities. However, other forms of study help inform about features of daily life and de-industrial decline which many industrial communities, including the Cuyuna Range, face at some point in their development. 2.2. Anthropological and archeological views on industrial communities and de-industrialization Over the last 40 years, anthropology has become interested in societies that are industrialized or are rapidly industrializing. This

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 4

F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

is, in part, due to the fact that many areas that were once almost exclusively agricultural or pastoral are increasingly being transformed by expanding global markets driven by industrialized nation-states. One advantage of anthropology over the approaches used by historians is that it is able to record and study industrial communities directly by asking community members questions and testing hypotheses of past behaviors against those recorded in the present. Modell and Brodsky (1998) highlighted examples of anthropological scholarship informed by experiences from industrial communities across the globe. Modell and Brodsky (1998) explored the physical and social transformations of Homestead, Pennsylvania during a time of rapid de-industrialization from the 1980s to the early 2000s. In addition to the riveting photographs of industrial decay, the authors documented the transformation of bonds and beliefs between generations of working class families and those between the industrial community and the steel companies, as the painful reality sets in that the steel industry, or any other industry, would never come back in their lifetime. She documented the transformation of bonds and beliefs between generations of working class families and those between the industrial community and the steel companies as the painful reality set in that the steel industry or any other industry would never come back. Modell and Brodsky (1998) observed steel workers’ perceptions of their community changed as their places of employment gradually transformed from hopeful sites of future work, to work that would not return, and even become entirely new places (like an upper middle-class water park) they could neither afford nor want to be associated with. Archeology is another academic discipline which brings unique insights into the study of industrial communities. The archeology of industrial communities has often focused upon households and the goods consumed by those living in them. From this perspective, archeologists have attempted to better understand the choices and behaviors of industrial communities in ways that were not documented or communicated openly with outside observers. Palus and Shakel (2006) studied an industrial community on Virginius Island, West Virginia. The authors compared the differences in materials recovered from the houses of managers and laborers and noted how these differences between the two types of households (both in the cost of goods and the amount) increased over time as the workforce transitions from a highly skilled gunsmiths toward semi and unskilled machine-tenders. Papas (2004) took a different approach to studying industrial communities using archeology. The author noted that ‘‘In order to address industrial communities adequately, an open model of community creation based on personal interaction is required’’ (p. 160). The author also revealed how the placement of housing for single and married loggers at a remote logging camp in California reflected paternalistic notions of observation and privileges based on the workers marital status. The arrangement of space, based on authority, status, and the levels of interactions between segments of the workforce informed his study. Papas (2004) reported that single loggers in the camp had less amenities and were forced to live closer to manager’s housing and central offices than the married loggers (pp. 172–174). McGuire and Reckner (2005) add an additional dimension to the discussion on industrial communities. Their work does not only attempt to understand a dynamic event from the past, but also seeks to connect with and engage two types of distinct ‘‘descendants’’ from former working communities around Ludlow, Colorado. The authors reached out to the biological descendants of the coal miners, both to gain further insights from them and raise awareness of the violent clash between miners and management. The second group of modern descendants McGuire and Reckner (2005) approached are those they defined as the ‘‘descendant community’’ of working people in present-day Ludlow. These

workers, while not biologically related to those that fought in the Colorado Coal Field War, face some of the same labor disputes that were fought-over by Ludlow’s workers a generation earlier (pp. 235–236). The authors hoped that the archeology of the conflict site would allow biological descendants greater influence over the former industrial community’s legacy and that the project could help to inspire the descendant community of present-day workers through the examples of those who had struggled before them. Frequently, industrial communities are so deeply tied to a single productive or extractive industry that when that particular industry declines or closes suddenly, most of the community scatters in search of new work and better opportunities. This process is described in extensive detail by Modell and Brodsky (1998). What is often left behind in these cases are fragments of the industrial processes on the landscape along with a portion of the worker housing and other community structures. No single source records these de-industrialization processes with complete detail in the Cuyuna Range as Modell and Brodsky (1998) did for Homestead. The third volume of Cuyuna Country comes the closest to presenting all of the social and economic impacts on the working population of the region in the late 1960s to early 1970s from the decline in mining. There are pieces of that story that are present in the local newspapers from the era, audio recordings of long-time residents made by local historical groups such as the Cuyuna Range Heritage Network, and lastly from the data that can be gathered from the landscape of former company homes that supported the mining industry of the area. The visual remains that are often left behind in these cases of rapid de-industrialization are fragments of the former industrial processes on the landscape and a portion of the worker housing along with other community structures. While these are common features in former industrial communities like the Cuyuna Iron Range, they might be obvious to an untrained eye. While not strictly an archeologist, Francaviglia (1991), studied former mining districts across the United States, carefully detailing how to observe and identify the major physical features that distinguish these former industrial communities. For example, the author describes such features as the clusters of nearly identical company homes or the piles of tailings created from separating ore from waste rock (p. 161). Francaviglia’s last chapter, ‘‘Perceiving the Landscape,’’ is informative because he discussed how several former mining communities in North America have survived through marketing their heritage to tourists after their primary industry declined. These heritage activities included taking tours through abandoned mines, sometimes with a former miner as a guide or looking at a landscape that is ‘‘frozen in time’’ not intentionally but because development and construction was halted so suddenly when the industry began to deteriorate. Francaviglia’s (1991) investigation of how former mining communities changed once their days as extractive centers ended shows how the history of these places is often mobilized in the present to bring meaningful employment to the remaining residents. The examples provided by these authors demonstrate that the choices a community makes can create new values and purposes for former industrial sites. These processes can help to integrate or further alienate residents with connections to that former industry from the rest of their community. In order to use historical, anthropological, and archeological sources together for studying industrial communities, such as those in the Cuyuna Range, some unifying concepts of power and the creation of space are needed. 2.3. Unifying perspectives using theories of power and the creation of space Across the disciplines of history, anthropology, and archeology there are some common themes that appear to be shared by many

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

of these works. The organization of spaces within an industrial community to serve the purposes of a single productive or extractive industry is one such theme. One theorist who can help interpret and unify the observations about the uses of space by industrial communities is Lefebvre (1974), who discussed how spaces are conceived, perceived and lived (p. 30). Merrifield (2000) reflected that one of Lefebvre’s interests was how capitalism, which is often closely tied to industrialization, seeks to transform spaces for its own purposes. Gottdiener (1993) observed that Lefebvre’s approach to space treats spaces as both the means and product of social relations. Papas (2004) exploration of how the California logging settlement was organized based on the degree of trust that managers had with unmarried and married loggers reflects this notion. Lastly, Crawford’s (1995) exploration of company towns can be understood in the way spaces, community-wide and within the home, changed over time to reflect the differing opinions of managers and their industrial communities. In the case of Crawford’s (1995) work, managers had more control over how spaces were conceived and workers had the most control over how each space was ‘‘lived’’. The negotiation and change in those spaces came from how they were perceived by the managers and the industrial community. The power relationships in an industrial community is another shared trait between history, anthropology, and archeology. Scott (1990) examined the unequal and negotiated state of power relationships between groups of people. Gaventa (1980) and McGuire and Reckner (2005) highlight studies conducted in the three disciplines that investigated the roles of power between managers and laborers in industrial communities. Scott (1990) maintained that forms of compliance are a negotiated state and are not innate or natural. Gaventa (1980) carefully showed that the coal mining management frequently changed its policies in order to ensure ‘‘quiescence’’ or a compliant workforce as Scott (1990) might have described it (p. 21). Scott also mentions that behaviors have different meanings depending upon their context ‘‘on’’ or ‘‘off’’ from public display. McGuire and Reckner (2005) used the archeology of a major labor conflict to empower modern industrial communities to stand up for rights and privileges at risk in modern labor negotiations that were won by their laboring ‘‘descendants’’ a generation ago. One scholar who helps to unify both concepts of space and power in the way the three disciplines view industrial communities is Pred (1984), who argued that places are essentially the product of human interactions connected to their own unique history of activity and power relations. Arnesen’s (1993) assessment of dockworkers in New Orleans is of a location where strong divisions between tasks and races existed in the early 20thcentury. However, as the scale of shipping began to increase and changing practices threatened formerly ‘‘secure’’ well-paying jobs, the dock-working community united across racial and social divides. This unified front changed these dockyards from a place of divided workers into a unified group that brought the entire dockyard to a halt until their grievances were addressed. Much like the dockyards, places such as the Finnish Worker’s hall in the Cuyuna Range served to help unify an ethnically diverse workforce of miners during the first strike on the Cuyuna Range in 1913. The hall was a political and social hub of activity early in the mining district’s history. Modell and Brodsky (1998) observed steel workers perceptions of their community change as their places of employment changed into derelict sites that contained memory and fading hopes for manufacturing jobs to return. Francaviglia’s (1991) investigation of how former mining communities changed once their days as extractive centers ended shows how the history of these places is often mobilized in the present to bring meaningful employment to the remaining residents.

5

2.4. Can multi-sited archeology support studies of industrial communities? One recently developed theory in archeology has significant potential to unify the diverse stories and perspectives across the Cuyuna Iron Range. Specifically, and as articulated by Ryzewki, multi-sited archeology, borrowed from multi-sited ethnography, provides a useful foundation for comparing the innovative sites of the Cuyuna Range by identifying and then exploring certain unifying themes that interconnected them. Ryzewski based her approach upon the work of G.E. Marcus, who developed the original framework of multi-sited ethnography in 1995. The author, quoting from Marcus, argues that the main ways to tie multiple sites together is to ‘‘follow the people, follow the thing, follow the metaphor, follow the story, follow the life/biography, or follow the conflict’’ in order to compare and evaluate the connections revealed between each site (p. 252). Ryzewski explored the multi-sited archeology of three colonial-era iron working sites in Rhode Island in order to understand the involvement of a particular family and their influence over many generations upon the ‘‘production, innovation, and the role of industries in the developing Northeastern American colonies’’ (p. 254). She reported that the three sites are so fragmentary that each on its own contributes little information. When, for example, the data collected inform each of the other sites connected to the decisions and developments by the Greene family, the fragmentary contexts enhance her understanding of the larger regional and global contexts of Rhode Island’s colonial industry (pp. 254–256). Not every scholar agree that a multi-sited approach is the best way to explore connections between different sites. While almost no analysis critiques examples of multi-sited archeology, ethnographers have debated multi-sited studies since the time Marcus coined the term in 1995. Some critics have only displayed reservations about the possibilities of multi-sited studies while offering very limited alternatives to address some of the wider connections and possibilities multi-sited methods provide (Cook et al., 2009). Candea (2007) offered a different critique that advances the debate between the traditional ‘bounded’ site and the multi-site approach with its seemingly limitless connectivity and ambiguity. For Candea (2007), the alternative offered about a constructed bounded site ‘‘is premised on the realization that any local context is always intrinsically multi-sited’’ (p. 175). The author acknowledged that the forces of globalization and interconnection that inspired scholars such as Marcus to develop multi-sited ethnography required a new approach rather than continuing to embrace the site concepts rooted in the 19th century (p. 169). She stated that a cultural site, as an arbitrary location, one with no overarching ‘meaning’ or ‘consistency’ is to remember that all these heterogeneous people, things, and processes are ‘thrown’ together, and to question, in the evidence of their uneasy overlap in one geographical space, the completeness of the ‘cultural formations’ to which one might be tempted to think they ‘belong’. Crucetta [a cultural site studied by Candea] in this sense is not an object to be explained, but a contingent window into complexity. [p. 179]. Candea (2007) concluded by suggesting that ethnographers should adopt approaches from other disciplines, such as archeology done in advance of road construction. Her definition of an archeologically informed site, . . .is delimited by concerns which are totally arbitrary from a research point of view (the future layout of a motorway or parking-lot, for instance). The site in developer-funded archeology is perhaps the most obvious metaphor for what I have called

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 6

F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

an arbitrary location: devoid of its own intrinsic meaning from an archeological point of view (although of course not from the developer’s), such a site can only ever be a window into complexity, and never a holistic entity to be explained. [p. 181]. Candea (2007) provided support for adopting a type of multisited perspective to regional sites that did not impose connections and introduce ambiguities between places where it does not serve a specific purpose. Industrial sites are inherently interconnected through economic, geologic, social, and infrastructural systems. To explore every avenue that intersects with a particular place or region would be to fall into the trap that Candea (2007) warns scholars to avoid. The primary research featured in this article only looks through the ‘window’ of sites, providing context to the formation, development, and decline of iron mining in a small region of Minnesota. However, as Candea (2007) points out, they are joined ‘‘in ways that are intrinsically multi-sited’’ on a global scale (p. 175). Analysis presented by Cobb and DePratter (2012) is a recent and relevant application of multi-sited archeology used to better understand fragments of a complex system of production and cultural exchange. In their study, the authors investigated the production of ceramic vessels known as Colonoware at a time and region that was at the intersections of various colonial, indigenous, and enslaved cultural influences in the Savanna Valley of Georgia. Using a multi-sited approach, by ‘‘following the thing’’ (in this case, the ceramics), Cobb and DePratter (2012) ‘‘reconcile the subjectivities of agents and communities with the broader currents of colonialism and globalization over the past five centuries’’ (p. 449). The authors concluded that Colonoware, which has influences from European, African, and Native American vessels, is not only about determining a ‘‘fixed identity’’ for the makers and users of the ceramic, but about locating the ‘‘shared histories’’ and complex relationships of the region in the colonial era (p. 456). Exploring a region through the influences of regional and global forces, as Cobb and DePratter (2012) did, is valuable in the study of a district like the Cuyuna Range, since historians have rarely investigated its relationships beyond those with the mining ranges immediately north of it. This approach linked the development, production, decline, and closing of the iron ore industry to a larger and ever-changing world system without subordinating the individual site’s role or significance as it might be in other types of analysis. Wood (2000), an ethnographer, explained that multi-sited studies are rooted in an understanding of Walerstein’s World Systems Theory of global commodity chains between sites of production and consumption. However, the author stated that multi-sited studies are ‘‘grounded less in the relations of production upon which world-systems theory focuses and more in the symbolic and (broadly defined) political creation of historically particular and culturally specific realities through the exercise of various forms of power’’ (p. 144). While this may seem to make adopting multi-sited archeology to a mining district more challenging, it nevertheless emphasized the intersections of people and ideas in a place, such as the Cuyuna Range, could augment the existing historical literature on the production of iron ore for the region. 2.5. How scholarly research applies to mining districts such as the Cuyuna Range Industrial communities have been studied by historians, anthropologists, and archeologists, who have revealed social and physical arrangements that make these communities distinctive from other human populations. Each discipline brings different insights and reinforces the general body of knowledge provided by the others. History’s long experience with industrial communities

has formed the basis of how industrial communities are studied through to the present. Anthropology is able to obtain primary information through interviews and observations of living industrial communities. Archeology, with its often strong attention to housing and consumption, helps us to understand the frequently undocumented lives of industrial communities away from the workplace. Besides the shared components of what makes an industrial community, the scholarship also agrees upon some of the relationships and developments that industrial communities share. Tensions and conflicts frequently occur within industrial communities as diverse populations in the community attempt to negotiate the sudden changes wrought by new technologies and fluctuating economic conditions that industrialization brings in its wake. As circumstances lead toward the eventual decline and closing of the industry that once defined an industrial community, many of its members may scatter to become a part of other industrial communities. Those left must then decide if they will also leave or try to develop a new economy, often based on celebrating the history and heritage of their former industrial past. Various sources have illustrated some of the different factors which shaped the development of the industrial communities in the Cuyuna Range. These authors will help clarify what was influencing the choices each group made to create this distinctively 20th-century mining landscape that survives into the present. Understanding the myriad of local, regional, and global connections which fostered developments not seen in other iron mining districts can redefine the existing narrative about the Cuyuna Range as only a small-scale regional oddity. Scholars across history, anthropology, and archeology have explored the transformation of communities brought about when the main economy of a region shifts into a post-industrial cycle as it has in the Cuyuna Range for the last 40 years. Frequently, industrial communities are so deeply tied to a single productive or extractive industry that when this particular industry declines or closes suddenly, most of a community’s working age residents scatter in search of work and better opportunities. The legacies of industrial structures and community facilities give testimony of the sometimes booming activity in former mining districts. Highlighting important sites in the Cuyuna Range and fitting them into a shared narrative about social, economic, and technological change can be accomplished using a multi-sited approach. By using the insights from these disciplines and the results of a 2012 historic structures survey, the history of the Cuyuna Range can be developed beyond its current historic status as a regional oddity into a nationally and globally significant mining district. By exploring sites of social change and development in the Cuyuna Range, this research contributes toward scholarship on community development, iron mining history, and the application of multi-sited archeology on an industrial district. To begin the process of unraveling the important features of this 20th-century mining district, a concise review of the conditions before iron mining began is necessary. 3. Historic background of the Cuyuna Range The Cuyuna Iron Mining Range is located in Crow Wing County, which is approximately 90 miles (145 km) west of Duluth in Central Minnesota. Since the 1880s, the historic iron ranges of Northern Minnesota have supported populations of European immigrants and their descendants that include Scandinavians, Southern European, and Slavic peoples. Prior to 1900, Crow Wing County’s European-American settlements and economy revolved around logging and small-scale farming. In 1870, the Northern Pacific Railroad line became an important transportation link between the area and larger urban centers further south such as Minneapolis and Saint Paul.

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

The hub of activity and European-American settlement in the region that would become the Cuyuna Range was centered around the Northern Pacific Railroad station in Withington, built in 1871 (Cuyuna Country, vol. 1, 2004, p. 70). This community was renamed Deerwood in 1882 in order to reduce confusion in shipments with the community of Worthington, Minnesota (Cuyuna Country, vol. 1, 2004, p. 70). Early settlers in Withington/Deerwood included German, Irish, Swedish, and Norwegian families (Cuyuna Country, vol. 1, 2004, pp. 70–89). As Lamppa (2004) explains, these early settlers and logging companies controlled much of the land by the time organized iron exploration efforts began to be conducted in the region during the late 19th century (p. 195). Many local historic accounts about the early years of prospecting for iron ore near what to would become Cuyuna Range, such as Cuy-Una (1976), have a ‘‘highly narrative quality’’ detailing singular individuals seeking to bring the mining district into being (p. 5). Since the 1870s, when the first railroads crossed the region, magnetic anomalies had been reported by surveyors familiar with such distortions near other iron-bearing deposits. Because the land was not easy to consolidate and no outcrops of ore were present, developing these iron resources eluded early prospectors such as Henry Pajari in the late 19th century. The Cuyuna Iron Range was named after Cuyler Adams and his dog ‘Una’ shortly before the opening of the first iron mine in 1907 (Lamppa, 2004, p. 191). Mr. Adams helped to map the buried iron ore deposits, attract investors to the region, and develop vital railroad connections between the mines on the Cuyuna Range and the ore docks in Duluth (Cuy-Una, 1976, p. 6). Many of the earliest iron mines were underground operations, but as the 20th century progressed, nearly all of the mining operations began or transitioned into open pit operations. The Cuyuna mining district experienced two major spurts of growth during both world wars. Many iron ores from the Cuyuna Range contain the mineral manganese, a vital ingredient in the hard steels used to fabricate tools, weapons, and armor. These ‘manganiferous ores’ played a strategic role as the largest domestic supply of manganese for the steel industry of the United States. During the Cuyuna Range’s first boom years around the time of the First World War, from 1914 to 1918, international supplies of manganese, mostly originating from Russia, had been cut off. These circumstances heightened the importance of Cuyuna’s ore for steel manufacturers in the United States (Lamppa, 2004, p. 193). After reaching a peak annual production of 3,714,634 tons in 1953 mining activity began to decline (Cuyuna Country, vol. 3, 2004, p. 16). Only 1,600,000 tons were shipped in 1966 and trending down further to 308,000 tons shipped by 1972 (Cuyuna Country, vol. 3, 2004, pp. 28–29). This downward trend in production reflects the changing markets where supplies of cheaper foreign iron and steel put some of the domestic buyers of the Cuyuna Range’s ore out of business. New technologies like taconite production developing on the neighboring Mesabi Range became the preferred ore used by those remaining domestic iron and steel producers. These pressures began to manifest themselves through a wave of mine closures, beginning in the early 1960s, that demonstrate how these economic and technological forces had greatly lowered demand for highgrade iron ores from the Cuyuna Range. Yearly accounts of iron ore mining and shipments from the Cuyuna Range record only 162,056 tons of ore shipped in 1979 and 591,269 tons mined (Cuyuna Country, vol. 3, 2004, pp. 28–29). By 1983, the last year of reported ore shipments, only 14,580 tons of iron ore was sent from existing stockpiles at Cuyuna’s mines (Cuyuna Country, vol. 3, 2004, p. 29). The final mining report listed in the timeline states: ‘‘The annual report of the mine inspector in February showed no ore shipped from the Cuyuna Range in 1985.’’ After the stoppage of mining activity in the region, much of the former mining land was acquired by the Minnesota Department of

7

Natural Resources and developed into the scenic Cuyuna Recreation Area. This parkland has a system of trails, campgrounds, and scenic lakes where iron mining pits once existed. Much of the mining infrastructure was scrapped and removed from the landscape, while trees have grown over the once bare mining terrain. 4. Bringing the Cuyuna Range’s story to a wider audience In 2011, Laura Ukura-Leir, a resident of Ironton, Minnesota, contacted Michigan Technological University about studying the history of the Cuyuna Iron Range. She had grown-up in Ironton during the waning years of iron mining during the 1960s and early 1970s. Laura believed that this mining history should be shared with a wider audience beyond the borders of the former mining district. She requested that Michigan Technological University use their expertise with industrial heritage to help local stake-holders develop plans for improving the local economy while celebrating the region’s rich past. Michigan Technological University’s Industrial Heritage and Archeology (IHA) program has engaged with current and former industrial communities for over 25 years. In that time, the program has developed expertise in studying the physical and cultural traces of industrialization around the world on sites dating from the 1600s to the middle of the 20th century. By the fall of 2011, the author, having heard about Laura’s request, decided to visit the Cuyuna Range, where he observed many of the remaining sites with connections to the mining heritage of the district. After those visits, the author began to work with Professor Timothy Scarlett to develop ways in which to identify and encourage public participation for the sites which ‘‘told’’ the best stories about iron mining history in the Cuyuna Range. Shortly after this time, Professor Scarlett and the author planned to engage with a wide audience of local stake-holders in order to decide how to best use their expertise to assist the former mining communities of the Cuyuna Range. Nine meetings were held in various locations during 2012. Several of the meetings were with local leaders representing major employers such as the Crosby Medical Center and the CrosbyIronton School District. Other community meetings were held with local civic institutions including the Deerwood Lions Club, Heartwood Assisted Living Center, Cuyuna Range Heritage Network, and the Hallett Memorial Library. Feedback from the audience was collected about what Michigan Technological University’s IHA programs could do in the Cuyuna Range after a short presentation about the types of work and knowledge generated by past IHA ventures with the West Point Foundry in New York State and sites of Mormon pottery works in Utah. A common concern voiced by attendees, and members of the local business community in particular, was that recreational visitors to the region spend little time or money in the local communities. Their perception was that the typical regional visitor travels directly to the Cuyuna State Recreation Area and then leaves the next day without stopping to visit local shops or venues that could generate badly needed economic support to the region. The recreation area has trails and lakes created from the former iron mining operations in this region, but has little in the way of signage indicating historic mining remnants on this man-made landscape. This local perception about tourist behavior has led many members of the community to question whether they are directly benefiting from the surges in recreational tourism the region has experienced in recent years. 5. Cultural tourism as a strategy for placemaking Using a community-based approach for cultural renewal and economic revitalization can serve as an example for heritage

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 8

F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

management and tourism development. Collaborations that bring professional scholars together with motivated citizens and civic leaders have the potential to uncover and promote meaningful sites that neither locals or outside agencies could accomplish alone. This strategy is a variation of the process that urban planners Schneekloth and Shibley (1995) call placemaking. The authors define this practice as the ‘‘daily acts of renovating, maintaining, and representing the places that sustain us,’’ with equal emphasis on the inputs from trained professionals and community members (pp. 1–2). The collaboration between professional scholars and community members to develop new representations of these former Minnesota iron mining communities is an example of placemaking. Cultural tourism, including heritage tourism, has been reported to be one of the fastest growing and most important sectors of tourism in the 21st century (Rypkema et al., 2011, p. 19, Mandala, 2009, pp. 2–3, Timothy, 2011, pp. 25–27). The types of sites featured in heritage tourism often include museums, cultural events, and historic sites. Timothy (2011) has noted that featuring a region’s heritage tourism potential is gaining recognition from community planners as a key part of any development strategy (p. 259). Academic research enriches the representations of places through discovery of significance and promotion of authenticity to both local residents and visitors. These aspects of authenticity and significance should be a part of any successful heritage tourism strategy. Scholarship investigating heritage tourism has noted that adding a historic or cultural component to a region’s featured tourism destinations does improve the average length of time visitors spend in a region, the amount of money that they spend during their visit, and its prospects for attracting visitors to the local community and businesses. A report produced for Utah’s Department of Community and Economic Development (DCED) revealed that an average tourist visiting Utah spent US$425 per visit, over an average of 3.3 nights per trip (Buehler and Trapp, 2000, p. 29). Tourists coming to Utah especially for cultural heritage spent an average of US$615 per trip and stayed an average of 4.7 nights per trip (Buehler and Trapp, 2000, p. 29). More recently, Minnesota Travel (2012) reported that a significant segment of the tourist population classified as the ‘‘Cultural Explorers’’ to Minnesota is one of the most desirable tourist segments to attract because of their ‘‘past travel to/within Minnesota, leisure spending – both overall and within the state of Minnesota, anticipated increase in travel spending over the next 12 months, interest in visiting Minnesota in the future, and likelihood to visit Minnesota in the next 12 months’’ (p. 10). 6. Initial plans, community meetings, and fieldwork methods One plan which developed from discussions with community members was the systematic recording of historic structures from the era of active mining in the district from approximately 1910 to 1960. This list was intended as a tool to help the community decide which historic sites and regions of the Cuyuna Range need further attention. The list of neighborhoods and sites generated could then be used to determine which places should be preserved and featured in any future industrial heritage tourism plans. In early May 2012, a series of short history presentations about seven former industrial communities in the region were advertised in the local newspapers including the Crosby-Ironton Courier and Brainerd Dispatch. Further notice was provided through fliers on local community bulletin boards and the town halls of each community. At the end of each public talk a request for help with documenting these same seven communities was made. From those talks, 10 volunteers were recruited and trained in late May of 2012 at the Heartwood Center in Crosby. The volunteers were trained in the

techniques for recording of historic structures to determine historic neighborhoods and sites from the standards set by the National Register of Historic Places and the Minnesota State Historic Preservation Office. Much of the field methodology and the style of the forms used to record different sites came from the materials taught in the ‘‘Documenting Historic Structures’’ class required in Michigan Technological University’s Industrial Archeology program. For example, the sections in one of the required texts for the class, Recording Historic Structures, provided guidance on how to properly take photographs and sketch plan drawings of structures. The sections of greatest relevance were ‘Photography’ (pp. 52–87) and ‘Recording Vernacular Building Forms’ (pp. 142–157). Each surveyor was given a clipboard with a mechanical pencil, documentation sheets, a flier describing our documentation project, including a way to contact us with questions, and a short guide on architectural features from sections of McAlester and McAlester (1997, pp. 32–62). In addition to these printed materials, volunteer surveyors were asked to supply a digital camera capable to recording images at 300 dots-per-inch (dpi) or better. Several surveyors decided to include a ruler to aid in sketching structures. One surveyor decided to craft her own name badge (similar to the one she had as an enumerator for the 2010 United States Federal Census) so members of the community could know her name, making her more approachable and giving her a degree of authority about the work she was doing. Much like the 2010 United States Federal Census, where the author had served as an enumerator, the larger communities were divided into segments called ‘‘assignment areas’’ to be canvassed on foot by each volunteer. The historic structures survey began in several of the smaller communities, such as Cuyuna and Riverton, Minnesota. The volunteers were assigned streets with only minimal advanced planning required because surveyors could see where their fellow surveyors were and alternate blocks with one another quite easily. However, careful planning with larger communities such as Deerwood, Crosby, and Ironton that contained dozens to hundreds of potential structures required that each surveyor be given a map highlighting which streets were a part of their assignment. While surveying these larger communities, it was sometimes found that cars were needed to cover the required distances between structures to document. 7. A comparison of 1979 and 2012 survey results The majority of the files about historic sites in the Cuyuna Iron Range are kept at the Minnesota History Center near the state capital building in Saint Paul. These documents are stored over 130 miles (209 km) away from the Cuyuna Range, making them difficult for most members of the community to access. The files are not available in a digital format. Most of the records in these files date from a historic structures surveys conducted over 30 years ago by Stipanovich (1979). In the author’s report, about 40 structures from the Cuyuna Range were recorded. These records focus mostly on historic sites located in Crosby and Ironton. Commercial, civic, and infrastructural sites form the majority of the historic features that Stipanovich (1979) documented. In terms of National Register of Historic Places nominations, 12 sites in the Cuyuna Range were selected to be nominated in the early 1980s based, at least in part, on the information collected from the 1978–1979 historical-cultural survey. Of those 12 sites, eight nominations were accepted. Since that time, the condition of several sites has changed and many sites dating from the 1940s to 1960s have become eligible to the National Register of Historic Places. The somewhat limited scope of his survey in the Cuyuna Range did not appear to explore the potential for historic sites in the less-populated communities of the region or to fully explore

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

the neighborhoods of former company houses built for employees of the iron mines. In the near future the digital files created from the 2012 historic structures survey will be delivered to the Minnesota Historical Society in order to update and enhance the records at the Minnesota History Center. After reviewing and editing all of the field forms and photographs generated from the historic structures survey in mid-November 2012, a tally of 876 standing structures were documented with 1676 digital images taken. The span of time between the sites ranges from approximately 1960 back to a log structure that likely predates 1910. Over the winter of 2012 and early spring of 2013 the project supervisor and author transcribed the data sheets and placed the digital photographs into a database of regional historic structures using Filemaker-Pro 12 software. Digitizing the locational information from the 2012 historic structures survey has allowed internet-based repositories to be connected to the database in significant ways. One such source is the United States Federal Census files available on Ancestry.com (Ancestry, 2014). These records were linked with the addresses of historic structures in several neighborhoods. This additional linking to the Federal Census allows users accessing this data to know who lived in various community dwellings, their employment, and what their cultural affiliation was. In the fall of 2013, the librarians of the Hallett Memorial Library in Crosby asked if they could offer a printed version of the database as a resource to local residents. After discussing the print costs and features to include for each site, the library agreed to cover the print costs of the data and even support the cost of digitally scanning the original field forms so they can be archived with the other digitized records. The digitized files were printed in three volumes, with the Crosby volume divided into two parts due to the large number of sites located. These reference copies are not intended for the public to write in or modify, but future plans include offering a printed copy at the Cuyuna Range Heritage Network that members can add notes into. If funding to develop a web-based version of the digital database becomes available, then it is possible that users could access and contribute new information as the historic sites change in the future. This information could then help local citizens and civic planners to better represent the historic mining character of the district in their efforts of place-making in the 21st century. A follow-up effort in the coming months could encourage local property owners and civic leaders to back district or individual nominations to the National Register of Historic Places based upon the 2012 survey findings. Neighborhoods of former mining community structures such as Crosby’s ‘Honeymoon Row’, ‘Gold Coast’, and ‘Lakeview’ have the potential to be nominated as districts to National Register. Other neighborhoods in the communities of Deerwood, Ironton, and Riverton also appear to have similar potential. Further consultations with the Minnesota State Historic Preservation Office (SHPO) could help foster nominations in these communities. 8. Future plans with community survey data In addition to informing a doctoral dissertation on the Cuyuna Iron Range, the community survey data collected in 2012 can be used to help the seven remaining former iron mining communities develop new methods to attract and retain cultural tourists to the region. One proposed effort is to have an interdisciplinary research group made up of students from Central Lakes College in Brainerd, Minnesota. These students can undertake the background research necessary for future tourism marketing and development planning. This team will conduct a tourism market profile and segmentation study, identify niche markets and other target groups appropriate for the Cuyuna Range communities, summarize the current relevant

9

marketing and economic research on heritage tourism in Minnesota and Industrial Heritage tourism more broadly, and study other topics identified in collaboration with their partner organizations, particularly Brainerd Lakes Economic Development Corporation and the Cuyuna Lakes Chamber of Commerce. The community survey data collected in 2012 can be used to identify neighborhoods, sites, and features that are suitable to promoting the historic iron mining heritage of the Cuyuna Range to different segments of the local and tourist population. The community stories, recorded by local surveyors interacting with their neighbors in 2012, are among the most valuable pieces of information the survey collected. Those stories describe the character of immigrant neighborhoods, social halls, businesses, and civic institutions that supported iron mining in the Cuyuna Range for over 75 years. Once the community stories are effectively linked to the places identified in the 2012 community survey it can be connected to the preserved mining landscape held within the bounds of the Cuyuna State Recreation area managed by the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources. Liesch (2014) demonstrated in his study of the Keweenaw National Historical Park (KNHP) that lifetime residents within and tourists visiting post-mining landscapes do not easily perceive the legal boundaries across a wide geographic area comprised by a historic mining park and its surrounding landscape. The author noted in his ethnographic study that ‘‘visual cues,’’ whether a formal entrance sign or a shared style of architecture, are key to connecting a historic post-mining landscape together in the minds of others (p. 310). Efforts to accomplish this understanding of the mining landscape in the Cuyuna Range using selective signage, guide materials, and community education would smooth the way toward integrating the idea of the Cuyuna Range as a place of mines and mine communities. The return of some limited mining activity to the Cuyuna Range promises to bring new opportunities and complications for community efforts of placemaking around the region’s mining history. Shifting global prices for iron, manganese, and the decreasing energy costs due to the energy boom in neighboring states west of Minnesota, such as North Dakota, have made this more feasible. Previous scholarship on industrial communities has not explored the return of an industry to an industrial community. Works such as Storm (2008) explore industrial communities that exist in urban settings and how they adapt to new, mostly nonindustrial, uses of former industrial sites. The emerging situation in the Cuyuna Range has the potential to unearth new possibilities in the study of industrial communities. At the northern tip of the Cuyuna Range in the town of Emily, Minnesota some serious efforts have been made since 2009 to develop a manganese ore processing plant. According to ‘‘Manganese News/Events’’ (2014), Crow Wing Power, a company seeking to develop mineral resources in the region, has completed much of the feasibility and environmental review stages have been completed for their proposed facility. Starting in the spring of 2014, some preliminary discussions have been announced to see if mining companies would like to purchase low-grade ore piles from former mine locations owned by the town of Ironton. The reactions since that presentation have been mixed with some in support of mining and others deeply concerned with how it might affect the natural and historic landscape (Richardson, 2014). Some local heritage groups such as the Cuyuna Range Heritage Network have published statements against the return of mining that could jeopardize the historic landscape and natural beauty of the area (CRHN Newsletter, 2014, p. 4). A resolution drafted by the Cuyuna Lakes Trail Association was recently passed by the Cuyuna Range town of Riverton. In that resolution, Riverton formally stated their support for ‘‘the continuing use of the abandoned mine pits and surrounding land within the Cuyuna Country State Recreation Area

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 10

F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

as a unique and valuable recreation asset, to be preserved and protected’’. Other neighboring communities are considering similar resolutions. How local leaders choose to balance sustainable economic projects, such as tourism, with the significant economic benefits of rekindling mining activity will determine the fates of many people living across the region in the years to come. Conversations between the author, the Brainerd Lakes Economic Development Corporation, groups representing recreational tourism, and representatives for mining interests have only recently begun. If a comprehensive plan can be developed to ensure that each type of economic development complements, rather than competes against, one another in the Cuyuna Range then the region is poised for a brighter future along with a strong connection to its mining heritage. 9. Discussion and conclusion The Cuyuna Iron Range was truly a 20th-century industrial community. This was not only because its entire mining lifespan fell within that space of time, but also because of the sites which were tied to pivotal events of that century. Many of the authors introduced during the literature review provide supporting evidence which validates the distinct 20th-century values and ideals embodied in various places on the Cuyuna Range. The ‘‘trajectories’’ that Ryzewski explores in her multi-sited study of Rhode Island ironworking include ‘‘family, landscapes, materials, and ironworking spaces’’ (p. 257). For example, the model of ‘‘follow the people’’ used in Ryzewski’s work, easily applies to the sites of Cuyler Adams’ early development efforts at the Kennedy Mine location and by his son Robert Adams in fostering the massive sintering plant at the Portsmouth mine. During the middle of the 20th-century, the Zontelli family had a competitive edge on Cuyuna’s ore processing at their Virginia Mine, which also processed ores from local mines owned by members of the Adams family (Zontelli, 2014, pp. 19–20). Lastly, through the trajectory of families we can explore the sites which feature in debates around the development new processes to revive the mining industry after the early 1960s. The Zontelli’s role in that debate fostered national and international research, in the case of the Krupp-Wren process, with ties extending as far as central Germany. While the trajectory of following families on different sites is revealing, the narrative power of that approach often needs to be blended with information on the ideas driving these families to create these sites and spaces. This could be supported by the approaches used by theorists such as Lefebvre (1974) and Pred (1984) to emphasize the creation of space and place. Focusing upon sites that are bounded by the ideas and people involved with their creation and persistence may help address the critiques that Candea (2007) had regarding the seemingly open-ended values used to connect multi-sited studies together. Many ‘‘trajectories’’ mentioned by Ryzewski are reminiscent of Gordon and Malone’s (1994) ‘‘components of industry’’ which include human resources, natural resources, and the ‘‘costs of wealth’’ that involve accidents or environmental degradation (pp. 37–51). Because of the complexity and inherently interdependent nature of industry in the 20th-century, there are many sites across the Cuyuna Range that share some of these common trajectories or components. The structures within communities surrounding the mines of the Cuyuna Range tell an effective story of the region’s development. Gordon and Malone’s (1994) ‘‘Human Resources’’ component of industry includes discussions of organizational skills from managers and businessmen (pp. 41–42). Many of the earliest structures that supported early mineral exploration efforts were situated around the railroad hub of Deerwood. Property investors

and developers such as Matt and George Crosby who had experienced the poorly organized, unsanitary, and saloon-dominated boomtowns of the Mesabi Range planned to build a community that would not suffer from those problems. Not every outcome of the highly organized communities such as Crosby, Minnesota went according to plan. The initial decade of boom growth, from 1910 to 1920 approximately, is apparent on the landscape by the general age of most homes and businesses in the commercial districts dating from this period of time. While no true ‘‘company towns’’ were built here, many real-estate investors such as Cuyler Adams and the Crosby brothers had a strong influence on the development of the Cuyuna Range’s mining settlements. Francaviglia’s (1991) discussion of the unique landscape of industrial communities containing rows of similar style homes and storefronts seemingly frozen in time could describe any of the surviving Cuyuna Range communities. From the beginning, the town of Crosby was carefully laid out and organized. It is interesting to see a separation of housing by neighborhoods with ‘‘Honeymoon Row’’ dwellings for workers with families and other neighborhoods such as Lakeview with many boarding houses for single male laborers. This arrangement of houses is similar to the way logging camp housing was divided in the study done by Papas (2004). The author concluded that a paternalist mindset where managers kept themselves within eyesight of, but separated from the un-married laborers was intended to promote better behavior among the single male workers (p. 160). Despite the organizational control built into the initial plan for the town of Crosby there are still a few homes located along alleyways rather than on major avenues in the grid street system. It is highly unlikely the Crosby brothers planned for or desired to see their narrow plots further divided when the town of Crosby was founded. This physical remnant of house infilling on subdivided lots reveals the acute need for housing in that initial era of booming growth. This mirrors the company towns studied by Crawford (1995) where workers found ways to express their individuality whether it was within, outside of, or in the unexpected placement of their dwellings. A challenge to the peaceful and orderly working community landscape envisioned by George and Matt Crosby was the building of the Finnish Worker’s Hall in 1913, which would become the epicenter of strikes and socialist political activity directed against mining management. This site became a place where diverse immigrant communities met and organized themselves to press for better working conditions, similar to the diverse ethnic workforce studied by Arnesen (1993). This heterogeneous labor group created political consciousness, like the English working class described by Thompson (1963), allowing them to strike and negotiate terms with managers without much input from regional or national labor organizations. After 1920, a significant economic decline and shift in mine technology toward greater production that required fewer laborers kept the number of new community structures built to a relatively low level. However, many middle-manager homes along the ‘‘Gold Coast’’ neighborhood of Crosby date from this era, suggesting those employed above the regular miners were establishing successful careers in the district. This development in housing is exactly the opposite of what Palus and Shakel (2006) observed in with the quality of housing and living conditions for workers at the armory in Harper’s Ferry as their workforce gradually became less skilled machine tenders rather than skilled craftsmen in the early to middle 19th century. By the start of the Great Depression in the 1930s, some satellite communities, like the town of Manganese, gradually became abandoned. The housing from these smaller communities were often relocated to other towns. The rows of uniform style houses in

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

a community like Riverton are clearly depicted in photographs from the early 20th century. However, in the present these same ‘‘orderly’’ residential streets are interrupted by smaller dwellings reported to have been hauled in from other former mining communities like Manganese. This pattern of relocating, rather than demolishing and building new structures elsewhere repeated itself again when, according to local accounts, the almost complete demolition of the ‘‘Balkan Street’’ neighborhood in Crosby prompted some residents to move their dwellings to neighboring Ironton in the middle of the 20th-century. Dwellings dating from the 1940s and 1950s are fewer and limited to neighborhoods that developed east and north of the ‘‘Gold Coast’’ area in Crosby and in isolated portions of other surrounding communities like Riverton or Deerwood. This neighborhood of midtwentieth-century colonial revival structures contains dwellings that are not as large and elegant as those further south and east along the shores of Serpent Lake, but they are larger than the miner’s dwellings from neighborhoods like ‘‘Honeymoon Row’’ further to the north and similar neighborhoods to the west. Few sites date specifically to the last decade of active mining in the Cuyuna Range from the early 1960s to early 1970s. However, many were transformed during this time. The ‘‘Balkan Street’’ neighborhood of Crosby where many ethnic Serbian and Croatian mine workers had resided was largely demolished to make room for a new high school. The scrapping of the last Cuyuna Range head frame in 1979 at the Croft Mine site triggered a local backlash against this erasing of mine features from the local landscape sparking a new era of commemoration. Cuyuna Range residents endured social and economic trauma as their primary sources of wealth creation closed. This circumstance was similar to the loss felt by working class residents studied by Modell and Brodsky (1998). Rather than preserving the stories of places through photographs as Modell and Brodsky did, other types of commemoration of the industrial heritage of the Cuyuna Range were undertake from the 1970s into the present. The mid-1970s the efforts to memorialize and document features of the mining community and industrial landscape have been driven from within the region, such as the Croft Mine Historical Park and from outside groups, like the 1979 Stipanovich survey of historic structures. Each effort had success and their legacies are still with the region in terms of the Croft Mine Park property and the files used to manage cultural resources from the state historic preservation offices in St. Paul. These projects also left many other important features of the surviving industrial and community landscape without context. The 2012 historic structures study may be the first time where outside scholarship interests have joined with locally supported preservation efforts to benefit the entire Cuyuna Range. Places to memorialize mine laborers have been few until recently. The commemoration ceremony for the 90-year anniversary of the Milford Mine Disaster occurred on February 5th, 2014 (Richardson, 2014). A granite marker placed on the corner of Curtiss and 4th Street in 1995 to commemorate the dead and injured miners of the Cuyurna Range during the 20th-century are very recent trends to remember the miners and the community that supported mining in this region for nearly 70 years (Cuyuna Country, vol. 3, 2004, p. 30). As of early 2015 very little historic signage and interpretation is being provided for visitors traveling in and through this former mining landscape. Three specific structures studied in the Cuyuna Range Survey are either on the National Register and struggling for funds or are worthy of nomination once restored. Laura Ukura-Leir has purchased the former Finnish Worker’s Hall with the intent of renovating the structure back to the way it looked over 100 years ago. If the restoration is successful the site may again become eligible to the National Register for its significance in defining the

11

political character of the Cuyuna Range in the first quarter of the 20th century. The Ironton Town Hall and firehouse building is on the National Register, but succeeded in acquiring a portion of the funds it needs to stabilize and maintain the structure up to building codes required for large social events like those it used to host in the early to middle of the 20th century. A third local landmark and a former social hub of the Cuyuna Range is the Spina Hotel, listed on the National Register and the focus of a 2000 study by the Minnesota Historical Society and Midwest office for the National Trust for Historic Preservation for renovation planning and assessment services. Roscoe (2002) has published a short article on the efforts to preserve that structure (p. 19). Unfortunately, for the Spina Hotel, the challenges that face its rebirth have not changed significantly since the writing of Roscoe’s article 13 years ago. He stated: In spite of improving economic conditions and favorable building-rehabilitation costs, the Spina is languishing for two reasons. First, a developer for the project has not stepped forward. Second, Carl Perpich, [the owner of the Spina Hotel] has resisted selling the building outright [to any potential developer. [Roscoe, 2002, p. 58] Despite efforts to share revenues and offer Mr. Perpich rights to live and use portions of the Spina as he wishes, he was and is unwilling to reach any sort of compromise. Roscoe (2002) concludes with brief explanation of the possible motives of Perpich to resist the economic and preservation benefits of collaborating with developers. The author states, ‘‘According to local observers, Perpich continues to live in the Spina as a tribute to his deceased wife’’ (p. 58). This motive, to leave things in a seemingly unchanged state as a tribute, is laudable except for the fact the throughout the article there are notes about the deteriorating roof and damage to the upper levels of the structure due to lack of basic maintenance. Some possibility of renovating the site may occur when the elderly Carl Perpich passes away and leaves the property to his heirs. A broad base of research has been collected on specific sites and neighborhoods across the Cuyuna Range. This information has been integrated into scholarly studies by historians, anthropologists, and archeologists. The next phase of work will have to apply this information toward shaping the narrative about the region’s importance for visitors and local residents alike. Acknowledgments I would like to acknowledge the help and assistance of my dissertation committee chair Professor Timothy Scarlett for providing guidance and support throughout the research process. I would like to thank Professor Fred Quivik for his valuable instruction while I was a student in his Documenting Historic Structures class. Laura Ukura-Leir has been a vital local facilitator for us and an agitator for positive change across the region. The volunteer surveyors that documented their communities with me in 2012 gave a lot of their time, patience, and knowledge to make this project succeed. These volunteers include: Pat Chase, Jay and Jody Idzoric, Kathy Jasperson, Joe Lusk, Jack McAllister, Kathy Novak, Paula and Bonnie Robinson, Laura Ukura-Leir, and Leif Underdahl. Sadly two of these volunteers, Kathy Jasperson and Joe Lusk, passed away within a year of survey’s completion. The work of these scholars, leaders, and community volunteers will live on through the stories and places of mining heritage they have shared with the world. References Alanen, A.A., 2007. Morgan Park: Duluth. U.S. Steel, and the Forging of a Company Town. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis.

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003

G Model

EXIS-100; No. of Pages 12 12

F. Sutherland / The Extractive Industries and Society xxx (2015) xxx–xxx

Arnesen, E., 1993. Waterfront Workers of New Orleans: Race, Class, and Politics. University of Illinois Press, Urbana. Ancestry.com United States Federal Census Collection. Available from: http:// search.ancestry.com/search/group/usfedcen (2.07.14). Buder, S., 1970. Pullman: An Experiment in Industrial Order and Community Planning, 1880–1930. Oxford University Press, London. Buehler, D., Trapp, E., 2000. The Economic Impact of Utah’s Cultural Sector. Western States Arts Federation (WESTAF), Denver, CO. Available from: http://www. westaf.org/assets/pdf/eis_utah2000.pdf (2.07.14). Candea, M., 2007. Arbitrary locations: in defence of the bounded field-site. J. R. Anthropol. Inst. 13 (March (1)), 167–184. Available from: http://www.jstor.org/ stable/4622906 (15.04.14). Cobb, C.R., DePratter, C.B., 2012. Multisited Research on Colonowares and the Paradox of Globalization. Am. Anthropol. 114 (3), 446–461. Cook, J., Laidlaw, J., Mair, J., 2009. What if There is no Elephant? Towards a Conception of an Un-Sited Field. In: Falzon, M.A. (Ed.), Multi-Sited Ethnography: Theory, Praxis and Locality in Contemporary Research, Ashgate, Surrey, UK, pp. 47–72. Crawford, M., 1995. Building the Workingman’s Paradise: The Design of American Company Towns. Verso, New York. CRHN, 2014. Newsletter of the Cuyuna Range Heritage Network, Spring ed. Crosby, Minnesota. Cuy-Una, 1976. In: Hansen, A. (Ed.), A Chronicle of the Cuyuna Range: Our Little Corner of the Land. Cuyuna Range Bicentennial Committee, Crosby, MN. Cuyuna Country: A People’s History, vol. 1–3. Cuyuna Range Heritage Preservation Society. Bang Printing, Brainerd, MN. Dawley, A., 1976. Class and Community: The Industrial Revolution in Lynn. Harvard University Press, Cambridge. Dublin, T., 1979. Women at Work: The Transformation of Work and Community in Lowell, Massachusetts: 1826–1860. Columbia University Press, New York. Dunaway, W.A., 1996. The First American Frontier: Transition to Capitalism in Southern Appalachia. University of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill, NC. Dunaway, W.A., 2003.In: The African-American Family in Slavery and EmancipationCambridge University Press, Cambridge, England. Francaviglia, R., 1991. Hard Places: Reading the Landscape of America’s Historic Mining Districts. University of Iowa Press, Iowa City. Gaventa, J., 1980. Power and Powerlessness: Quiescence and Rebellion in an Appalachian Valley. University of Illinois Press, Chicago. Gordon, R.B., Malone, P.M., 1994.In: The Texture of Industry: an Archaeological View of the Industrialization of AmericaOxford University Press, New York. Gottdiener, M., 1993. A Marx for our time: Henri Lefebvre and the production of space. Sociol. Theory 11 (1), 129–134. Himrod, A., 1940. The Cuyuna Range: A History of a Minnesota Iron Mining District. Works Progress Administration, Washington, District of Columbia. Kelly, B., 2001. Race, Coal, and Power in the Alabama Coalfields, 1908–1921. University of Illinois Press, Urbana. Lamppa, M.G., 2004. Minnesota’s Iron Country: Rich Ore, Rich Lives. Lake Superior Port Cities Inc., Duluth. Lankton, L., 1997. Beyond the Boundaries: Life and Landscape at the Lake Superior Copper Mines, 1845–1875. Oxford University Press, New York. Lefebvre, H., 1974. The Production of Space. Donald-Nicholson Smith Trans. (1991) Blackwell Publishing, Oxford, England. Liesch, M., 2014. Spatial boundaries and industrial landscapes at Keweenaw National Historical Park. Extr. Ind. Soc. 1 (November (2)), 303–311. Available from: http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2214790X14000653 (2.04.15).

Mandala, L., 2009. New Study Reveals Popularity of U.S. Cultural and Heritage Travel. Mandala Research, US Chamber of Commerce, National Trust for Historic Preservation, Washington, DC. Available from: http://mandalaresearch.com/ images/stories/pressreleases/CHT_release_Oct_20.pdf (5.06.14). Manganese News/Events, 2014. Crow Wing Power: About Us. Available from: http://www.cwpower.com/manganese.shtml (26.02.14). McAlester, V., McAlester, L., 1997. A Field Guide to American Houses. Alfred A. Knopf, New York. McGuire, R.H., Reckner, P., 2005. Building a Working Class Archaeology. In: Casella, E., Symonds, J. (Eds.), Industrial Archaeology: Future Directions, Springer Science and Media Inc., New York, pp. 217–242. Merrifield, A., 2000. Henri Lefebvre: a socialist in space. In: Michael, C., Nigel, T. (Eds.), Thinking Space. Routledge Publications, London. Modell, J., Brodsky, C., 1998. A Town Without Steel: Envisioning Homestead. University of Pittsburgh Press, Pittsburgh. Colle + McVoy Inc for Explore Minnesota. Available from: http://www. exploreminnesota.com/industry-minnesota/research-reports/researchdetails/ index.aspx?nid=195 (27.02.14). Palus, M., Shakel, P., 2006. They Worked Regular: Craft, Labor, and Family in the Industrial Community of Virginius Island. University of Tennessee Press, Knoxville. Papas, E.I., 2004. Fictive kin in the mountains: The paternalistic metaphor and households in a California logging camp. In: Braile, K., Brandon, J.C. (Eds.), Household Chores and Household Choices: Theorizing Domestic Space in Historical Archaeology. University of Alabama Press, pp. 159–178. Pred, A., 1984. Place as historically contingent process: structuration and the timegeography of becoming places. Ann. Assoc. Am. Geogr. 74 (2), 279–297. Richardson, R., 16 July 2014. Cuyuna range remix: could mountain biking and mining co-exist? Brainerd Dispatch. Available from: http://www.brainerddispatch.com/ content/cuyuna-range-remix-could-mountain-biking-and-mining-co-exist (5.09.14). Roscoe, R., 2002. Endangered: Spina Hotel, Ironton, Minnesota. Archit. Minn. 19 (May–June), 58–60. Rypkema, D., Cheong, C., Mason, R., November 2011. Measuring Economic Impacts of Historic Preservation. The Advisory Council on Historic Preservation Report. PlaceEconomics and University of Pennsylvania School of Design, Washington, DC. Available from: http://www.achp.gov/docs/economic-impacts-of-historicpreservation-study.pdf (5.06.14). Schneekloth, L.H., Shibley, R.G., 1995. Placemaking: The Art and Practice of Building Communities. John Wiley and Sons Inc., New York. Scott, J.C., 1990. Domination and the Arts of Resistance. Yale University Press, New Haven. Stipanovich, J., 1979. The Report of the Iron Range Historical-Cultural Survey: October 1, 1978–September 30 1979. Iron Range Resource and Rehabilitation Board and the Minnesota Historical Society, Saint Paul, MN. Storm, A., 2008. Hope and Rust: Reinterpreting the Industrial Place in the late 20th Century. KTH, Royal Institute of Technology, Stockholm, Sweden. Thompson, E.P., 1963. The Making of the English Working Class. Random House, New York. Timothy, D.J., 2011. Cultural Heritage and Tourism: An Introduction. Channel View Publications, Bristol, UK. Wood, W., 2000. Flexible production, households, and fieldwork: multisited zapotec weavers in the era of late capitalism. Ethnology 39 (Spring (2)), 133–148. Zontelli, D., 2014. Zontelli Story Updated from Trip to Italy. Unpublished Manuscript. Generously shared by the author. Deerwood, MN, 23 pp.

Please cite this article in press as: Sutherland, F., Community-driven mining heritage in the Cuyuna Iron Mining District: Past, present, and future projects. Extr. Ind. Soc. (2015), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.exis.2015.04.003