OBITUARY Iron River Reporter May 22 1928 "Meade LaPlante, Last Civil War Veteran, Taken: Full Military Rites Today For Crystal Falls Veteran"
The fast shrinking ranks of blue have lost another member.
Meade LaPlante, 81, revered Crystal Falls citizen and last remnant of the county's civil war veterans, who trod courageously as a youth in the weary march of Sherman's forces to the sea, died Saturday [May 19] at 5 p.m. at his Fourth street home.
From 10 o'clock this morning to 2 o'clock this afternoon the body will lie in state at the American Legion rooms at Crystal Falls. At 2 p.m. with American Legion in charge, funeral services will be held in the Legion rooms. Tribute to the man who enlisted when a youth of 17 and served honorably with the Union soldiers will be paid by the Rev. Stanford Closson, pastor of the First M.E. church, and then the cortege, with a vanguard of uniformed soldiers, will wind to the Crystal Falls cemetery.
CARRIED COLORS Picturesque and proud in the Union blue uniform he was presented a year ago by the Louis Bowman Post, of Crystal Falls, this last survivor will be missed from the ranks on occasions of patriotic observances. It was his glory and pride, despite his age, to lead processions on Memorial and Independence day bearing the national colors.
The illness which came over him a year ago was contracted on such an occasion. Present as a guest of honor at the American Legion convention in Iron River, he took ill during the day and was taken home. Unusual vitality warded off the illness until three and one half months ago when he was fatally taken down in bed.
He enlisted with the Co. B 52 Regiment, Illinois Volunteers on Jan. 13, 1864, at Aurora, Ill., at the age of 17 and was discharged two years later. Most vivid in his recollections was the march of the Union forces to the sea and this event he frequently described vividly to eager listeners of later wars.
BORN IN ILLINOIS He was born at Naperville, Ill. on Nov. 18, 1847 and on July 2, 1874 married Elsie Cardinal, at Wrightstown, Wis. They resided at Fort Atkinson and in 1888 moved to Crystal Falls where they resided uninterruptedly.
Mrs. Ralph Waite, Peter, and Charles, all of Crystal Falls, are surviving children. Besides his widow, he is survived by a sister, Mrs. Louisa Morrell, of Hammond, Ind.
Mr. LaPlante was an honorary member of the American Legion of Crystal Falls and a member of the G.A.R
FUNERAL NOTICE Iron River Reporter May 25 1928
NEWSPAPER ARTICLE Diamond Drill Dec 26 1924 "Barber Shop Bubbles" [Meade LaPlante predicts an early spring in December]
There's a dispute among the neighbors on Fifth Street and the territory east between Michigan and Forest over a bird that Meade LaPlante discovered eating berries off a mountain ash tree at the old Gaffney property. Mr. LaPlante immediately sent out word that he had seen the first robin. Robert "Bags" Wilson said that Meade was correct, so did Robert Wilson, Sr., and he added to his announcement the prestige of the office of chief of police. The women folk of the neighborhood were called out to view the strange sight - a robin in late December.
"Must mean an early break up," said Mr. LaPlante. "It's a sure sign. I remember once seeing a robin on Lake Koshkenong 'fore the war, and we didn't have any winter that year. Turned warm January 1st and I planted potatoes on Lincoln's birthday."
Harry Reynolds brought out the point that Lincoln's birthday wasn't celebrated "'fore the war," but Meade sat him down with the remark that "children should be seen and not heard."
Everything was running along lovely, and the loungers brought out their fishing tackle (figuratively, of course - and how most of the hunting and fishing is done by the inhabitants of the shop) when John Stolberg breezed in.
"See any robins out your way?" queried Mr. LaPlante.
"No, neither did you," replied Mr. Stolberg.
"Now, see here," said Meade, as he borrowed enough fine cut from Harry Reynolds to replenish his exhausted supply, "I don't want to start a fuss in your neighborhood, but I tell you that's a robin."
"And I tell you that you don't know a robin from a russett shoe," replied Mr. Stolberg. "If keeping peace in the neighborhood is calling a copper breasted grosbeak a robin, then I am off the peace stuff."
"A what?!!!", shot back Meade. "Where in h--l did you ever hear of that animal?"
"In the old country," replied John.
"I thought so," replied Meade, "and they're all in the old country yet, if there ever was such a thing, for I tell you that's a robin."
"No 'taint," replied John.
"Yes, 'tis," replied Meade, "I guess that I know. You're as bad as C.T. Roberts. I found a lizard in the snowbank once and he said it was a spider that I had found in a bunch of bananas. You know as much about that robin as C.T. did about the lizard," and Meade grabbed his cap and departed.
NEWSPAPER ARTICLE Diamond Drill Jan 18 1924 "Barber Shop Bubbles"
"Tell you t'was a cold day yesterday," said Meade LaPlante Monday as he seated himself in the old "runway" in its new location -- the Crystal Inn barber shop.
"Yes, t'was kind of cold up my house," said "Bags" as he jabbed his brush filled with the lather into a customer's ear.
"Coldest day I've ever seen in years," said Meade, as he unlimbered his new briar pipe, struck the bowl deftly on the rim of the new brass cuspidor with a tap, tap, tap, that made one think of a woodpecker who was working in one of the trees in front of Tim Murphy's house.
"What made you say that?" queried Bill Welch.
Meade grasped the bowl of his pipe between the second finger and the thumb of his right hand, walked over to the "poor box", and deftly shoved the waiting "cut plug" into the pipe with the forefinger of his right hand while his left hand swung around and grasped the tail of his coat tail. Badly charred as by fire.
"Yes, I see that, but what has that got to do with the cold weather of yesterday?", replied Bill.
"Well, yu see," said Meade and he scratched a match on the new linoleum floor carpet, applied the flame to the well filled bowl, took two or three long pulls, removed the stem from his mouth and approvingly gazed on the well ignited layer of tobacco, then with his left hand he executed an overhand drop with the flaming match, landing it squarely into the center of the yawning cuspidor. He watched it burn out and then suddenly came to life again with "What's that got to do with it? I tell yer. Yu see it's this way" - slight intermission while Meade takes several long puffs to make sure that the tobacco is burning and Phil Shaw, "Cub" Olson and the scribe are settled back in their seats in an expectancy that was soon realized.
"Yu know that I have one of the warmest houses in town. Never knew it to freeze inside my house before, even when there is no fire, but that's not often, I tell yu I keep that airtight of mine full of coals. Yesterday I didn't do nothing but poke wood in from the time that I got up until I went to bed. We were all sitting around the durn stove most of the day. Got 5 feet away from it and you got chilled through. I'd sit there and heat up my face to a cheery red and by that time my back would be just on the verge of freezing. Then I'd turn around and thaw all of my back. Then it would be time to get my face back for a thawing out. That's the way I spent the day."
"Well along about four o'clock Pete came over to see if it was any colder in my house then it was over in his'n. We talked along. I was sitting down while he was standing up - all of us around the stove, you know - and I got dry. So I went to the kitchen to get a glass, and draw up about three quarters of a glass full from the faucet. Then I returned to the sitting room and stood with my back to the stove hold'n the glass in my hand and listen' to Pete and his mother talkin'. All of a sudden my wife said, "You're a-burnin" - the tail of your coat is afire." I reached my left hand around to feel there where the fire was and Pete got up hastily and said, "Let me have the glass of water." He took the glass of water from my hand expecting to throw the water on the fire to put it out, but darn if the water hadn't froze tight while I was holding it in my hand. My wife had to run to the kitchen stove and pour some of the hot water onto the fire to get it out."
Phil looked at me and I looked at him. Then I looked at "Cub" and "Cub" nodded towards "Bags" as much as to say, "Get on to what's coming."
"Bags" had dug the lather out of the customer's ear by this time and had piled it on the fellow's chin, and with his left hand grasping a brush and resting on the head rest, he struck a posture of one in meditation. His eyes were riveted on the overhead radiator and his hand was mechanically massaging the lather into the customer's chin with a rapidity of movement that would put Bill's Jazz orchestra into the discard. He was getting his bearings for a companion piece. Of a sudden he exclaimed, "that was cold all right, but were any of you fellows ever in Dave Mendelson's store in Alpha?" Chair
Phil, "Cub" and I allowed we had, but Meade, who by that time had fallen into his customary position on the end of the "runway", his right leg thrown saucily over his left and his pipe belching smoke in a volume that would put the chimney of the school heating plant into the background, snapped out -
"What's that got to do with our house?"
"I was just going to tell yu," replied "Bags" in his most polite manner. "I think it was two years ago Thursday that we buried Jimmie Peters. Although the day was the coldest I have ever seen, our Legion Post turned out strong and believe me it was some task to walk from the Alpha station to the top of the hill. We were all bundled up well. I wore a heavy cap with ear flaps on it. In some way my left ear got uncovered while I was going up the hill and it froze stiff. I had about a half an hour before the funeral would start, so I decided to go into Dave's store and thaw my ear out. I grabbed a handful of snow and beat it for the store."
"When I entered Dave's, he was sitting in front of a red hot stove in the back of the store with his overcoat, overshoes, and cap on, both ear flaps down. I grabbed off my cap and started thawing out my left ear, using the snow that I had brought in. It took me about five minutes, I should think, to thaw it and just as I felt that it was getting back into consciousness, I happened to look into the mirror that Dave had hanging on the wall and I'll be darned if my right ear hadn't froze still right here in the store while I was busy thawing out my left ear."
The tabernacle out in Salt Lake City, where one can hear a pin drop when it strikes the floor if dropped at the opposite end of the room, had not a thing on the shop at the moment or two or three. Then the calm was broken by Meade removing his pipe from his mouth, tapping it gently on the brass cuspidor, putting it hastily in his pocket, and without looking to right or left, he made a "bee line" for the exit. Then "Cub" exploded.
The fast shrinking ranks of blue have lost another member.
Meade LaPlante, 81, revered Crystal Falls citizen and last remnant of the county's civil war veterans, who trod courageously as a youth in the weary march of Sherman's forces to the sea, died Saturday [May 19] at 5 p.m. at his Fourth street home.
From 10 o'clock this morning to 2 o'clock this afternoon the body will lie in state at the American Legion rooms at Crystal Falls. At 2 p.m. with American Legion in charge, funeral services will be held in the Legion rooms. Tribute to the man who enlisted when a youth of 17 and served honorably with the Union soldiers will be paid by the Rev. Stanford Closson, pastor of the First M.E. church, and then the cortege, with a vanguard of uniformed soldiers, will wind to the Crystal Falls cemetery.
CARRIED COLORS Picturesque and proud in the Union blue uniform he was presented a year ago by the Louis Bowman Post, of Crystal Falls, this last survivor will be missed from the ranks on occasions of patriotic observances. It was his glory and pride, despite his age, to lead processions on Memorial and Independence day bearing the national colors.
The illness which came over him a year ago was contracted on such an occasion. Present as a guest of honor at the American Legion convention in Iron River, he took ill during the day and was taken home. Unusual vitality warded off the illness until three and one half months ago when he was fatally taken down in bed.
He enlisted with the Co. B 52 Regiment, Illinois Volunteers on Jan. 13, 1864, at Aurora, Ill., at the age of 17 and was discharged two years later. Most vivid in his recollections was the march of the Union forces to the sea and this event he frequently described vividly to eager listeners of later wars.
BORN IN ILLINOIS He was born at Naperville, Ill. on Nov. 18, 1847 and on July 2, 1874 married Elsie Cardinal, at Wrightstown, Wis. They resided at Fort Atkinson and in 1888 moved to Crystal Falls where they resided uninterruptedly.
Mrs. Ralph Waite, Peter, and Charles, all of Crystal Falls, are surviving children. Besides his widow, he is survived by a sister, Mrs. Louisa Morrell, of Hammond, Ind.
Mr. LaPlante was an honorary member of the American Legion of Crystal Falls and a member of the G.A.R
FUNERAL NOTICE Iron River Reporter May 25 1928
NEWSPAPER ARTICLE Diamond Drill Dec 26 1924 "Barber Shop Bubbles" [Meade LaPlante predicts an early spring in December]
There's a dispute among the neighbors on Fifth Street and the territory east between Michigan and Forest over a bird that Meade LaPlante discovered eating berries off a mountain ash tree at the old Gaffney property. Mr. LaPlante immediately sent out word that he had seen the first robin. Robert "Bags" Wilson said that Meade was correct, so did Robert Wilson, Sr., and he added to his announcement the prestige of the office of chief of police. The women folk of the neighborhood were called out to view the strange sight - a robin in late December.
"Must mean an early break up," said Mr. LaPlante. "It's a sure sign. I remember once seeing a robin on Lake Koshkenong 'fore the war, and we didn't have any winter that year. Turned warm January 1st and I planted potatoes on Lincoln's birthday."
Harry Reynolds brought out the point that Lincoln's birthday wasn't celebrated "'fore the war," but Meade sat him down with the remark that "children should be seen and not heard."
Everything was running along lovely, and the loungers brought out their fishing tackle (figuratively, of course - and how most of the hunting and fishing is done by the inhabitants of the shop) when John Stolberg breezed in.
"See any robins out your way?" queried Mr. LaPlante.
"No, neither did you," replied Mr. Stolberg.
"Now, see here," said Meade, as he borrowed enough fine cut from Harry Reynolds to replenish his exhausted supply, "I don't want to start a fuss in your neighborhood, but I tell you that's a robin."
"And I tell you that you don't know a robin from a russett shoe," replied Mr. Stolberg. "If keeping peace in the neighborhood is calling a copper breasted grosbeak a robin, then I am off the peace stuff."
"A what?!!!", shot back Meade. "Where in h--l did you ever hear of that animal?"
"In the old country," replied John.
"I thought so," replied Meade, "and they're all in the old country yet, if there ever was such a thing, for I tell you that's a robin."
"No 'taint," replied John.
"Yes, 'tis," replied Meade, "I guess that I know. You're as bad as C.T. Roberts. I found a lizard in the snowbank once and he said it was a spider that I had found in a bunch of bananas. You know as much about that robin as C.T. did about the lizard," and Meade grabbed his cap and departed.
NEWSPAPER ARTICLE Diamond Drill Jan 18 1924 "Barber Shop Bubbles"
"Tell you t'was a cold day yesterday," said Meade LaPlante Monday as he seated himself in the old "runway" in its new location -- the Crystal Inn barber shop.
"Yes, t'was kind of cold up my house," said "Bags" as he jabbed his brush filled with the lather into a customer's ear.
"Coldest day I've ever seen in years," said Meade, as he unlimbered his new briar pipe, struck the bowl deftly on the rim of the new brass cuspidor with a tap, tap, tap, that made one think of a woodpecker who was working in one of the trees in front of Tim Murphy's house.
"What made you say that?" queried Bill Welch.
Meade grasped the bowl of his pipe between the second finger and the thumb of his right hand, walked over to the "poor box", and deftly shoved the waiting "cut plug" into the pipe with the forefinger of his right hand while his left hand swung around and grasped the tail of his coat tail. Badly charred as by fire.
"Yes, I see that, but what has that got to do with the cold weather of yesterday?", replied Bill.
"Well, yu see," said Meade and he scratched a match on the new linoleum floor carpet, applied the flame to the well filled bowl, took two or three long pulls, removed the stem from his mouth and approvingly gazed on the well ignited layer of tobacco, then with his left hand he executed an overhand drop with the flaming match, landing it squarely into the center of the yawning cuspidor. He watched it burn out and then suddenly came to life again with "What's that got to do with it? I tell yer. Yu see it's this way" - slight intermission while Meade takes several long puffs to make sure that the tobacco is burning and Phil Shaw, "Cub" Olson and the scribe are settled back in their seats in an expectancy that was soon realized.
"Yu know that I have one of the warmest houses in town. Never knew it to freeze inside my house before, even when there is no fire, but that's not often, I tell yu I keep that airtight of mine full of coals. Yesterday I didn't do nothing but poke wood in from the time that I got up until I went to bed. We were all sitting around the durn stove most of the day. Got 5 feet away from it and you got chilled through. I'd sit there and heat up my face to a cheery red and by that time my back would be just on the verge of freezing. Then I'd turn around and thaw all of my back. Then it would be time to get my face back for a thawing out. That's the way I spent the day."
"Well along about four o'clock Pete came over to see if it was any colder in my house then it was over in his'n. We talked along. I was sitting down while he was standing up - all of us around the stove, you know - and I got dry. So I went to the kitchen to get a glass, and draw up about three quarters of a glass full from the faucet. Then I returned to the sitting room and stood with my back to the stove hold'n the glass in my hand and listen' to Pete and his mother talkin'. All of a sudden my wife said, "You're a-burnin" - the tail of your coat is afire." I reached my left hand around to feel there where the fire was and Pete got up hastily and said, "Let me have the glass of water." He took the glass of water from my hand expecting to throw the water on the fire to put it out, but darn if the water hadn't froze tight while I was holding it in my hand. My wife had to run to the kitchen stove and pour some of the hot water onto the fire to get it out."
Phil looked at me and I looked at him. Then I looked at "Cub" and "Cub" nodded towards "Bags" as much as to say, "Get on to what's coming."
"Bags" had dug the lather out of the customer's ear by this time and had piled it on the fellow's chin, and with his left hand grasping a brush and resting on the head rest, he struck a posture of one in meditation. His eyes were riveted on the overhead radiator and his hand was mechanically massaging the lather into the customer's chin with a rapidity of movement that would put Bill's Jazz orchestra into the discard. He was getting his bearings for a companion piece. Of a sudden he exclaimed, "that was cold all right, but were any of you fellows ever in Dave Mendelson's store in Alpha?" Chair
Phil, "Cub" and I allowed we had, but Meade, who by that time had fallen into his customary position on the end of the "runway", his right leg thrown saucily over his left and his pipe belching smoke in a volume that would put the chimney of the school heating plant into the background, snapped out -
"What's that got to do with our house?"
"I was just going to tell yu," replied "Bags" in his most polite manner. "I think it was two years ago Thursday that we buried Jimmie Peters. Although the day was the coldest I have ever seen, our Legion Post turned out strong and believe me it was some task to walk from the Alpha station to the top of the hill. We were all bundled up well. I wore a heavy cap with ear flaps on it. In some way my left ear got uncovered while I was going up the hill and it froze stiff. I had about a half an hour before the funeral would start, so I decided to go into Dave's store and thaw my ear out. I grabbed a handful of snow and beat it for the store."
"When I entered Dave's, he was sitting in front of a red hot stove in the back of the store with his overcoat, overshoes, and cap on, both ear flaps down. I grabbed off my cap and started thawing out my left ear, using the snow that I had brought in. It took me about five minutes, I should think, to thaw it and just as I felt that it was getting back into consciousness, I happened to look into the mirror that Dave had hanging on the wall and I'll be darned if my right ear hadn't froze still right here in the store while I was busy thawing out my left ear."
The tabernacle out in Salt Lake City, where one can hear a pin drop when it strikes the floor if dropped at the opposite end of the room, had not a thing on the shop at the moment or two or three. Then the calm was broken by Meade removing his pipe from his mouth, tapping it gently on the brass cuspidor, putting it hastily in his pocket, and without looking to right or left, he made a "bee line" for the exit. Then "Cub" exploded.
OBITUARY Iron River Reporter May 22 1928 "Meade LaPlante, Last Civil War Veteran, Taken: Full Military Rites Today For Crystal Falls Veteran"
The fast shrinking ranks of blue have lost another member.
Meade LaPlante, 81, revered Crystal Falls citizen and last remnant of the county's civil war veterans, who trod courageously as a youth in the weary march of Sherman's forces to the sea, died Saturday [May 19] at 5 p.m. at his Fourth street home.
From 10 o'clock this morning to 2 o'clock this afternoon the body will lie in state at the American Legion rooms at Crystal Falls. At 2 p.m. with American Legion in charge, funeral services will be held in the Legion rooms. Tribute to the man who enlisted when a youth of 17 and served honorably with the Union soldiers will be paid by the Rev. Stanford Closson, pastor of the First M.E. church, and then the cortege, with a vanguard of uniformed soldiers, will wind to the Crystal Falls cemetery.
CARRIED COLORS Picturesque and proud in the Union blue uniform he was presented a year ago by the Louis Bowman Post, of Crystal Falls, this last survivor will be missed from the ranks on occasions of patriotic observances. It was his glory and pride, despite his age, to lead processions on Memorial and Independence day bearing the national colors.
The illness which came over him a year ago was contracted on such an occasion. Present as a guest of honor at the American Legion convention in Iron River, he took ill during the day and was taken home. Unusual vitality warded off the illness until three and one half months ago when he was fatally taken down in bed.
He enlisted with the Co. B 52 Regiment, Illinois Volunteers on Jan. 13, 1864, at Aurora, Ill., at the age of 17 and was discharged two years later. Most vivid in his recollections was the march of the Union forces to the sea and this event he frequently described vividly to eager listeners of later wars.
BORN IN ILLINOIS He was born at Naperville, Ill. on Nov. 18, 1847 and on July 2, 1874 married Elsie Cardinal, at Wrightstown, Wis. They resided at Fort Atkinson and in 1888 moved to Crystal Falls where they resided uninterruptedly.
Mrs. Ralph Waite, Peter, and Charles, all of Crystal Falls, are surviving children. Besides his widow, he is survived by a sister, Mrs. Louisa Morrell, of Hammond, Ind.
Mr. LaPlante was an honorary member of the American Legion of Crystal Falls and a member of the G.A.R
FUNERAL NOTICE Iron River Reporter May 25 1928
NEWSPAPER ARTICLE Diamond Drill Dec 26 1924 "Barber Shop Bubbles" [Meade LaPlante predicts an early spring in December]
There's a dispute among the neighbors on Fifth Street and the territory east between Michigan and Forest over a bird that Meade LaPlante discovered eating berries off a mountain ash tree at the old Gaffney property. Mr. LaPlante immediately sent out word that he had seen the first robin. Robert "Bags" Wilson said that Meade was correct, so did Robert Wilson, Sr., and he added to his announcement the prestige of the office of chief of police. The women folk of the neighborhood were called out to view the strange sight - a robin in late December.
"Must mean an early break up," said Mr. LaPlante. "It's a sure sign. I remember once seeing a robin on Lake Koshkenong 'fore the war, and we didn't have any winter that year. Turned warm January 1st and I planted potatoes on Lincoln's birthday."
Harry Reynolds brought out the point that Lincoln's birthday wasn't celebrated "'fore the war," but Meade sat him down with the remark that "children should be seen and not heard."
Everything was running along lovely, and the loungers brought out their fishing tackle (figuratively, of course - and how most of the hunting and fishing is done by the inhabitants of the shop) when John Stolberg breezed in.
"See any robins out your way?" queried Mr. LaPlante.
"No, neither did you," replied Mr. Stolberg.
"Now, see here," said Meade, as he borrowed enough fine cut from Harry Reynolds to replenish his exhausted supply, "I don't want to start a fuss in your neighborhood, but I tell you that's a robin."
"And I tell you that you don't know a robin from a russett shoe," replied Mr. Stolberg. "If keeping peace in the neighborhood is calling a copper breasted grosbeak a robin, then I am off the peace stuff."
"A what?!!!", shot back Meade. "Where in h--l did you ever hear of that animal?"
"In the old country," replied John.
"I thought so," replied Meade, "and they're all in the old country yet, if there ever was such a thing, for I tell you that's a robin."
"No 'taint," replied John.
"Yes, 'tis," replied Meade, "I guess that I know. You're as bad as C.T. Roberts. I found a lizard in the snowbank once and he said it was a spider that I had found in a bunch of bananas. You know as much about that robin as C.T. did about the lizard," and Meade grabbed his cap and departed.
NEWSPAPER ARTICLE Diamond Drill Jan 18 1924 "Barber Shop Bubbles"
"Tell you t'was a cold day yesterday," said Meade LaPlante Monday as he seated himself in the old "runway" in its new location -- the Crystal Inn barber shop.
"Yes, t'was kind of cold up my house," said "Bags" as he jabbed his brush filled with the lather into a customer's ear.
"Coldest day I've ever seen in years," said Meade, as he unlimbered his new briar pipe, struck the bowl deftly on the rim of the new brass cuspidor with a tap, tap, tap, that made one think of a woodpecker who was working in one of the trees in front of Tim Murphy's house.
"What made you say that?" queried Bill Welch.
Meade grasped the bowl of his pipe between the second finger and the thumb of his right hand, walked over to the "poor box", and deftly shoved the waiting "cut plug" into the pipe with the forefinger of his right hand while his left hand swung around and grasped the tail of his coat tail. Badly charred as by fire.
"Yes, I see that, but what has that got to do with the cold weather of yesterday?", replied Bill.
"Well, yu see," said Meade and he scratched a match on the new linoleum floor carpet, applied the flame to the well filled bowl, took two or three long pulls, removed the stem from his mouth and approvingly gazed on the well ignited layer of tobacco, then with his left hand he executed an overhand drop with the flaming match, landing it squarely into the center of the yawning cuspidor. He watched it burn out and then suddenly came to life again with "What's that got to do with it? I tell yer. Yu see it's this way" - slight intermission while Meade takes several long puffs to make sure that the tobacco is burning and Phil Shaw, "Cub" Olson and the scribe are settled back in their seats in an expectancy that was soon realized.
"Yu know that I have one of the warmest houses in town. Never knew it to freeze inside my house before, even when there is no fire, but that's not often, I tell yu I keep that airtight of mine full of coals. Yesterday I didn't do nothing but poke wood in from the time that I got up until I went to bed. We were all sitting around the durn stove most of the day. Got 5 feet away from it and you got chilled through. I'd sit there and heat up my face to a cheery red and by that time my back would be just on the verge of freezing. Then I'd turn around and thaw all of my back. Then it would be time to get my face back for a thawing out. That's the way I spent the day."
"Well along about four o'clock Pete came over to see if it was any colder in my house then it was over in his'n. We talked along. I was sitting down while he was standing up - all of us around the stove, you know - and I got dry. So I went to the kitchen to get a glass, and draw up about three quarters of a glass full from the faucet. Then I returned to the sitting room and stood with my back to the stove hold'n the glass in my hand and listen' to Pete and his mother talkin'. All of a sudden my wife said, "You're a-burnin" - the tail of your coat is afire." I reached my left hand around to feel there where the fire was and Pete got up hastily and said, "Let me have the glass of water." He took the glass of water from my hand expecting to throw the water on the fire to put it out, but darn if the water hadn't froze tight while I was holding it in my hand. My wife had to run to the kitchen stove and pour some of the hot water onto the fire to get it out."
Phil looked at me and I looked at him. Then I looked at "Cub" and "Cub" nodded towards "Bags" as much as to say, "Get on to what's coming."
"Bags" had dug the lather out of the customer's ear by this time and had piled it on the fellow's chin, and with his left hand grasping a brush and resting on the head rest, he struck a posture of one in meditation. His eyes were riveted on the overhead radiator and his hand was mechanically massaging the lather into the customer's chin with a rapidity of movement that would put Bill's Jazz orchestra into the discard. He was getting his bearings for a companion piece. Of a sudden he exclaimed, "that was cold all right, but were any of you fellows ever in Dave Mendelson's store in Alpha?" Chair
Phil, "Cub" and I allowed we had, but Meade, who by that time had fallen into his customary position on the end of the "runway", his right leg thrown saucily over his left and his pipe belching smoke in a volume that would put the chimney of the school heating plant into the background, snapped out -
"What's that got to do with our house?"
"I was just going to tell yu," replied "Bags" in his most polite manner. "I think it was two years ago Thursday that we buried Jimmie Peters. Although the day was the coldest I have ever seen, our Legion Post turned out strong and believe me it was some task to walk from the Alpha station to the top of the hill. We were all bundled up well. I wore a heavy cap with ear flaps on it. In some way my left ear got uncovered while I was going up the hill and it froze stiff. I had about a half an hour before the funeral would start, so I decided to go into Dave's store and thaw my ear out. I grabbed a handful of snow and beat it for the store."
"When I entered Dave's, he was sitting in front of a red hot stove in the back of the store with his overcoat, overshoes, and cap on, both ear flaps down. I grabbed off my cap and started thawing out my left ear, using the snow that I had brought in. It took me about five minutes, I should think, to thaw it and just as I felt that it was getting back into consciousness, I happened to look into the mirror that Dave had hanging on the wall and I'll be darned if my right ear hadn't froze still right here in the store while I was busy thawing out my left ear."
The tabernacle out in Salt Lake City, where one can hear a pin drop when it strikes the floor if dropped at the opposite end of the room, had not a thing on the shop at the moment or two or three. Then the calm was broken by Meade removing his pipe from his mouth, tapping it gently on the brass cuspidor, putting it hastily in his pocket, and without looking to right or left, he made a "bee line" for the exit. Then "Cub" exploded.
The fast shrinking ranks of blue have lost another member.
Meade LaPlante, 81, revered Crystal Falls citizen and last remnant of the county's civil war veterans, who trod courageously as a youth in the weary march of Sherman's forces to the sea, died Saturday [May 19] at 5 p.m. at his Fourth street home.
From 10 o'clock this morning to 2 o'clock this afternoon the body will lie in state at the American Legion rooms at Crystal Falls. At 2 p.m. with American Legion in charge, funeral services will be held in the Legion rooms. Tribute to the man who enlisted when a youth of 17 and served honorably with the Union soldiers will be paid by the Rev. Stanford Closson, pastor of the First M.E. church, and then the cortege, with a vanguard of uniformed soldiers, will wind to the Crystal Falls cemetery.
CARRIED COLORS Picturesque and proud in the Union blue uniform he was presented a year ago by the Louis Bowman Post, of Crystal Falls, this last survivor will be missed from the ranks on occasions of patriotic observances. It was his glory and pride, despite his age, to lead processions on Memorial and Independence day bearing the national colors.
The illness which came over him a year ago was contracted on such an occasion. Present as a guest of honor at the American Legion convention in Iron River, he took ill during the day and was taken home. Unusual vitality warded off the illness until three and one half months ago when he was fatally taken down in bed.
He enlisted with the Co. B 52 Regiment, Illinois Volunteers on Jan. 13, 1864, at Aurora, Ill., at the age of 17 and was discharged two years later. Most vivid in his recollections was the march of the Union forces to the sea and this event he frequently described vividly to eager listeners of later wars.
BORN IN ILLINOIS He was born at Naperville, Ill. on Nov. 18, 1847 and on July 2, 1874 married Elsie Cardinal, at Wrightstown, Wis. They resided at Fort Atkinson and in 1888 moved to Crystal Falls where they resided uninterruptedly.
Mrs. Ralph Waite, Peter, and Charles, all of Crystal Falls, are surviving children. Besides his widow, he is survived by a sister, Mrs. Louisa Morrell, of Hammond, Ind.
Mr. LaPlante was an honorary member of the American Legion of Crystal Falls and a member of the G.A.R
FUNERAL NOTICE Iron River Reporter May 25 1928
NEWSPAPER ARTICLE Diamond Drill Dec 26 1924 "Barber Shop Bubbles" [Meade LaPlante predicts an early spring in December]
There's a dispute among the neighbors on Fifth Street and the territory east between Michigan and Forest over a bird that Meade LaPlante discovered eating berries off a mountain ash tree at the old Gaffney property. Mr. LaPlante immediately sent out word that he had seen the first robin. Robert "Bags" Wilson said that Meade was correct, so did Robert Wilson, Sr., and he added to his announcement the prestige of the office of chief of police. The women folk of the neighborhood were called out to view the strange sight - a robin in late December.
"Must mean an early break up," said Mr. LaPlante. "It's a sure sign. I remember once seeing a robin on Lake Koshkenong 'fore the war, and we didn't have any winter that year. Turned warm January 1st and I planted potatoes on Lincoln's birthday."
Harry Reynolds brought out the point that Lincoln's birthday wasn't celebrated "'fore the war," but Meade sat him down with the remark that "children should be seen and not heard."
Everything was running along lovely, and the loungers brought out their fishing tackle (figuratively, of course - and how most of the hunting and fishing is done by the inhabitants of the shop) when John Stolberg breezed in.
"See any robins out your way?" queried Mr. LaPlante.
"No, neither did you," replied Mr. Stolberg.
"Now, see here," said Meade, as he borrowed enough fine cut from Harry Reynolds to replenish his exhausted supply, "I don't want to start a fuss in your neighborhood, but I tell you that's a robin."
"And I tell you that you don't know a robin from a russett shoe," replied Mr. Stolberg. "If keeping peace in the neighborhood is calling a copper breasted grosbeak a robin, then I am off the peace stuff."
"A what?!!!", shot back Meade. "Where in h--l did you ever hear of that animal?"
"In the old country," replied John.
"I thought so," replied Meade, "and they're all in the old country yet, if there ever was such a thing, for I tell you that's a robin."
"No 'taint," replied John.
"Yes, 'tis," replied Meade, "I guess that I know. You're as bad as C.T. Roberts. I found a lizard in the snowbank once and he said it was a spider that I had found in a bunch of bananas. You know as much about that robin as C.T. did about the lizard," and Meade grabbed his cap and departed.
NEWSPAPER ARTICLE Diamond Drill Jan 18 1924 "Barber Shop Bubbles"
"Tell you t'was a cold day yesterday," said Meade LaPlante Monday as he seated himself in the old "runway" in its new location -- the Crystal Inn barber shop.
"Yes, t'was kind of cold up my house," said "Bags" as he jabbed his brush filled with the lather into a customer's ear.
"Coldest day I've ever seen in years," said Meade, as he unlimbered his new briar pipe, struck the bowl deftly on the rim of the new brass cuspidor with a tap, tap, tap, that made one think of a woodpecker who was working in one of the trees in front of Tim Murphy's house.
"What made you say that?" queried Bill Welch.
Meade grasped the bowl of his pipe between the second finger and the thumb of his right hand, walked over to the "poor box", and deftly shoved the waiting "cut plug" into the pipe with the forefinger of his right hand while his left hand swung around and grasped the tail of his coat tail. Badly charred as by fire.
"Yes, I see that, but what has that got to do with the cold weather of yesterday?", replied Bill.
"Well, yu see," said Meade and he scratched a match on the new linoleum floor carpet, applied the flame to the well filled bowl, took two or three long pulls, removed the stem from his mouth and approvingly gazed on the well ignited layer of tobacco, then with his left hand he executed an overhand drop with the flaming match, landing it squarely into the center of the yawning cuspidor. He watched it burn out and then suddenly came to life again with "What's that got to do with it? I tell yer. Yu see it's this way" - slight intermission while Meade takes several long puffs to make sure that the tobacco is burning and Phil Shaw, "Cub" Olson and the scribe are settled back in their seats in an expectancy that was soon realized.
"Yu know that I have one of the warmest houses in town. Never knew it to freeze inside my house before, even when there is no fire, but that's not often, I tell yu I keep that airtight of mine full of coals. Yesterday I didn't do nothing but poke wood in from the time that I got up until I went to bed. We were all sitting around the durn stove most of the day. Got 5 feet away from it and you got chilled through. I'd sit there and heat up my face to a cheery red and by that time my back would be just on the verge of freezing. Then I'd turn around and thaw all of my back. Then it would be time to get my face back for a thawing out. That's the way I spent the day."
"Well along about four o'clock Pete came over to see if it was any colder in my house then it was over in his'n. We talked along. I was sitting down while he was standing up - all of us around the stove, you know - and I got dry. So I went to the kitchen to get a glass, and draw up about three quarters of a glass full from the faucet. Then I returned to the sitting room and stood with my back to the stove hold'n the glass in my hand and listen' to Pete and his mother talkin'. All of a sudden my wife said, "You're a-burnin" - the tail of your coat is afire." I reached my left hand around to feel there where the fire was and Pete got up hastily and said, "Let me have the glass of water." He took the glass of water from my hand expecting to throw the water on the fire to put it out, but darn if the water hadn't froze tight while I was holding it in my hand. My wife had to run to the kitchen stove and pour some of the hot water onto the fire to get it out."
Phil looked at me and I looked at him. Then I looked at "Cub" and "Cub" nodded towards "Bags" as much as to say, "Get on to what's coming."
"Bags" had dug the lather out of the customer's ear by this time and had piled it on the fellow's chin, and with his left hand grasping a brush and resting on the head rest, he struck a posture of one in meditation. His eyes were riveted on the overhead radiator and his hand was mechanically massaging the lather into the customer's chin with a rapidity of movement that would put Bill's Jazz orchestra into the discard. He was getting his bearings for a companion piece. Of a sudden he exclaimed, "that was cold all right, but were any of you fellows ever in Dave Mendelson's store in Alpha?" Chair
Phil, "Cub" and I allowed we had, but Meade, who by that time had fallen into his customary position on the end of the "runway", his right leg thrown saucily over his left and his pipe belching smoke in a volume that would put the chimney of the school heating plant into the background, snapped out -
"What's that got to do with our house?"
"I was just going to tell yu," replied "Bags" in his most polite manner. "I think it was two years ago Thursday that we buried Jimmie Peters. Although the day was the coldest I have ever seen, our Legion Post turned out strong and believe me it was some task to walk from the Alpha station to the top of the hill. We were all bundled up well. I wore a heavy cap with ear flaps on it. In some way my left ear got uncovered while I was going up the hill and it froze stiff. I had about a half an hour before the funeral would start, so I decided to go into Dave's store and thaw my ear out. I grabbed a handful of snow and beat it for the store."
"When I entered Dave's, he was sitting in front of a red hot stove in the back of the store with his overcoat, overshoes, and cap on, both ear flaps down. I grabbed off my cap and started thawing out my left ear, using the snow that I had brought in. It took me about five minutes, I should think, to thaw it and just as I felt that it was getting back into consciousness, I happened to look into the mirror that Dave had hanging on the wall and I'll be darned if my right ear hadn't froze still right here in the store while I was busy thawing out my left ear."
The tabernacle out in Salt Lake City, where one can hear a pin drop when it strikes the floor if dropped at the opposite end of the room, had not a thing on the shop at the moment or two or three. Then the calm was broken by Meade removing his pipe from his mouth, tapping it gently on the brass cuspidor, putting it hastily in his pocket, and without looking to right or left, he made a "bee line" for the exit. Then "Cub" exploded.
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