I grew up in Burnett County, WI, and have lived most of my life here. I’ll admit, I haven’t always appreciated it. I’m not an outdoorswoman, and while I’ve taken part in lake life at my family’s cabin on Devil’s Lake, hunted deer in the Namekagon Barrens, paddled down the Yellow River, and participated in all of the activities Burnett County offers, I didn’t particularly enjoy them. I can admire the beauty of the land, but I don’t have the hunger for outdoor activities and wild game that draws so many people here.
However, I do love a good story. I come from a family of yappers, people who always have something to say. “Small-town life” always has a story to tell, whether it’s a personal matter shared with the disclaimer, “I shouldn’t really be telling you this,” or my personal favorite, “You didn’t hear this from me, but…” Or it is family lore passed down through generations, usually involving a relative connected to you through some twisted branch of the family tree (your great-uncle’s second wife’s brother, for example).
My grandfather was born in 1925, and I had spent my entire life listening to his stories. With animated expressions and sweeping hand gestures, he would tell me about the Great Depression, the first time he saw a train in Danbury, and the first time he saw a TV; about his many years as a teacher and principal at Webster High School; and about his work as a realtor, driving instructor, builder, and so many other things that could fill several pages. I’ve lived in homes he built with his own hands. I could write an entire book about the man, and it would be thoroughly entertaining.
But even though I teased him for being ancient—born when dinosaurs walked the earth—he wasn’t actually around when Burnett County was established in 1856, just eight years after Wisconsin achieved statehood. He wasn’t alive at the start of the 1800s, when the North West and XY trading posts were active in what is now Forts Folle Avoine. And he definitely wasn’t around when the Chippewa drove out the Sioux.
My primary knowledge of Burnett County’s history comes from newspapers. I love newspapers, and old newspapers are a particular passion of mine. I’m drawn to the blunt, often distasteful language reporters used, and I even appreciate that facts weren’t always the priority. While news is supposed to be unbiased—who, what, where, when, and why—older newspapers often reflected the opinions of their time. Hearsay and sensationalism were part of the package. Entertainment, a good story, and a little outrage were standard fare. I don’t think that’s what news should be now, but as a lover of small-town gossip, I can’t help reading an 18th-century newspaper without relishing the tale.
I hope you enjoy!
-Olivia Main-Wells
