It was raining on the day of the execution. As Fletcher described it, The rain during the forenoon had the effect of making the streets and almost
every other place exceedingly sloppy and muddy. The ground having recently been frozen, the mud was not very deep, but every place was very slippery.

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Before it was called Richvalley, the community the French family was living in was known as Keller Station. Isaac Keller and his brother owned large tracts of land in this area, as well a popular Inn and Tavern that was the social hub of that neighborhood. Isaac Keller actually owned the land that the Frenches, and now the Hubbards, had been living on. On their way to the cabin, the posse locates Keller; they also find a doctor, and they bring both men with them. Visit us online at itshometownhistory.com

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Aaron French moved in from Cincinnati. He had only been here approximately 6 Months. So he himself was a transient character, he had attempted to be a businessman in Cincinnati, involved in the meat packing industry and went broke. And so he decided to maybe, try his hand at farming. Visit us online at itshometownhistory.com

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I remember the first time I tried to visit the French family grave, just outside of Wabash, Indiana. It was a Sunday, in the middle of the winter, one day before the mini-blizzard that closed county schools and buried every car on Market Street up to its door handles. I had just moved into town, and I was feeling the things you feel when you move someplace new.

I was wondering if the people were nice, and I thought of the friends I hoped to make. I wondered if the new job would work out, and I hoped that Wabash was a good place to call home. Visit us online at itshometownhistory.com

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As the dawn approached on October 8th, 1871, the residents of Peshtigo, Wisconsin were met not with the soft light of morning, but with a horizon seething in ominous red. The town, cocooned in a pastoral stillness, began to stir under a rain of white ash—heralds of the maelstrom to come. Father Peter Pernin, the local parish priest, greeted his flock with growing alarm as smoky tendrils wove through the air. The sanctuary, which stood as a beacon of solace for the townspeople, would soon become the center of their struggle for survival. On this fateful Sunday, as a tiny cabinet holding sacred traditions—the holy tabernacle—was clutched in desperation, the Great Peshtigo Fire was awakening, stretching its fiery limbs across the town.

The deadliest fire in American history was about to claim its place in the annals of forgotten tragedies, its ferocity eclipsing even the great Chicago Fire which raged simultaneously to the south. Join us as we step back into the past to uncover the harrowing story of the Peshtigo Fire. We'll sift through the embers of history to honor the memory of those lost and bring to light the lessons learned from a catastrophe that reshaped our understanding of fire and our relationship with the untamed wilderness. In this episode, you'll hear firsthand accounts, learn of miraculous survivals, and discover why the Peshtigo Fire remains one of the most devastating yet overshadowed events in American history.

For more stories that bring history to life, visit us at itshometownhistory.com. In this episode, we not only delve into a critical piece of Wisconsin history but also shine a light on the often-overlooked historical disasters that have shaped our environment and communities. It's a journey through time, echoing the stories of survival and resilience that define our collective past.

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In the eighth part of our captivating journey through the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, we take a mesmerizing detour to the awe-inspiring Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. Known even beyond the UP borders, these towering cliffs rise about 200 feet above the lake, presenting a natural gallery of mineral-stained beauty. These cliffs are not merely "pictured" for their fame but painted by nature itself with a rich tapestry of colors. Iron paints swathes of red and orange, while copper leaves strokes of blue and green. The deep hues of manganese create brown and black shadows, contrasted by the soft whites of limonite. This polychromatic display is a geologic masterpiece created by the abundant metals that lie beneath the land.

Join us on this colorful voyage at itshometownhistory.com, where history and natural splendor collide.

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Welcome to the seventh installment of our Upper Peninsula series, where we stand at the edge of the Quincy Mine, once the beating heart of Hancock, Michigan's mining prowess. The rhythmic sound of the hoist, a reminder of the earth's riches extracted from its depths, sets the scene for today's exploration.

The Quincy Mine, celebrated as the Madison Square Garden of ghost mines in northern Michigan, was not only an industrial marvel of its time but also a bastion of human determination, plunging two miles beneath the earth across 92 levels. Outshining its counterparts in scale and depth, the Quincy holds its rank as Keweenaw County's second most lucrative copper mine.

Journey with us as we descend into the tales of ingenuity and ambition that run as deep as the mine itself at itshometownhistory.com.

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In the sixth episode of our trek through the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, we delve into the echoes of discord at Eagle Harbor, where the serene shores belie a past marred by conflict. Eagle Harbor's Fletchy's Otter Belly Lodge, once known as the Shoreline Motel, holds the memories of a notorious clash between a local doctor and the influential president of Michigan's mightiest mining operation.

This episode uncovers the undertones of the struggle that permeated the community, a microcosm of the larger rift between the mining behemoths and the heartbeat of the towns they towered over. The strife, ripe with tales of power plays and the unyielding spirit of the locals, adds a poignant chapter to our series, and a special feature will follow in our Black Label edition to illuminate this riveting slice of history.

For narratives that traverse the intricate web of our nation's past, capturing the spirit of both the monumental and the mundane, keep following our journey at itshometownhistory.com.

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In the fifth installment of our Upper Peninsula saga, we venture into Phoenix, Michigan, a town enveloped in tales as enduring as its structures. Here, legend speaks not of bridge trolls but of a sentinel of history, guarding her domain not beneath an overpass but within the walls of a 148-year-old general store. The "troll" of Phoenix turns out to be an 87-year-old matriarch, whose presence is as much a staple of the town as the vintage wares lining the shelves of her store. From her customary perch at the front window, she oversees her kingdom, greeting passersby and patrons with a formidable scowl that has become her trademark and, unwittingly, her charm.

As we peel back the layers of Phoenix's unique character, we are reminded that history is not just about places and events but the people who give them color and texture. To continue the journey through the rich tapestry of hometown stories, visit us at itshometownhistory.com.

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In Part 4 of our Upper Peninsula series, we step into the silent remnants of Gregoryville, where the whispers of the past are as tangible as the morning mist. Unlike the preserved structures of Fayette, Gregoryville offers a hauntingly different experience—the ghost town where not only the people but the very buildings themselves have faded into apparitions.

From the vantage point of the deserted Maple Leaf Bar, the land holds tight to its stories, with only the vestiges of rotting machinery dotting the landscape as clues to a once-bustling life. As I gazed across the barren spaces, the absence of life echoed the robust history that once coursed through the now-quiet veins of this forgotten town.

Join us as we unearth the mysteries of Gregoryville's disappearance and recount the lives that once animated its now-silent streets. For more explorations into the haunts of history and the stories of the Upper Peninsula, visit us at itshometownhistory.com.

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