Shotguns and Write-In Votes, Part 1

By Charles Pederson

Welcome to Part 1 of a three-part story about two remarkable county women, Cora McQuestion and Elizabeth Ries. They won high municipal office only a few short years after women could legally vote in the United States.

The story of two female Scott County politicians is in some ways unremarkable; many women take part in politics. But in other ways, Prior Lake mayor Cora McQuestion and Shakopee mayor Elizabeth Ries, both elected in the mid-1920s, were trailblazing outliers, given that they were among a handful of female U.S. mayors elected only a few years after women fought for and, in 1920, won the right to vote in national elections.

A Long Struggle

Some individual states had already introduced women’s suffrage, or the right to vote. For example, Wyoming had introduced female suffrage in 1869 and allowed women to vote for president in 1892.

Locally, the first steps toward female suffrage in Minnesota occurred in 1875. That year the Minnesota constitution was amended to allow women to vote in school board elections. In 1881 and the decades that followed, women’s suffrage groups tried but failed numerous times to amend the Minnesota constitution to allow women to vote in a presidential election.

As a federal matter, though, women began seriously to advocate for the vote long before the U.S. Civil War, as early as the 1840s. However, the first U.S. Constitutional amendment was not introduced in Congress until 1878. Another 40 years passed before Congress in August 1920 passed, and the states ratified, the 19th Amendment (women’s suffrage), making it part of the Constitution. About 26 million adult women became eligible to vote in the presidential election of November 1920.

The 19th Amendment emboldened women in Minnesota to enter political life themselves. Moreover, the 1920s were a good decade generally for female mayors in Minnesota. Lillian Cox Gault, of Saint Peter, became the state’s first female mayor, elected in 1921, the very next year after women’s suffrage was legal. She boldly stated, “I see no reason any woman should not enter politics.” Cora McQuestion and Elizabeth Ries soon followed Gault’s path.

Cora McQuestion

Among other things, the 1920s were known for bank robbers. (See the dramatic article, “35-Day Crime Spree,” Part 1 and Part 2, in the Scott County Historical Society blog.) On a summer night in 1922, Cora McQuestion, age 40, was thrust into the limelight. Bank robbers tried to break into a Prior Lake bank that night. Unfortunately for them, McQuestion lived across the street and happened to see the men. “She got the [family] shotgun and fired a volley with the result that the criminals fled,” stated the Jordan Independent. McQuestion was recognized with a citation and “substantial reward from the [Minnesota] Bankers Protective Association.”

McQuestion was born and raised in rural Prior Lake, where she “grew to charming womanhood in the community of her birth,” according to the Independent. She married and raised a daughter. She apparently had few ambitions beyond that. Yet the political bug bit McQuestion, just in time for the 1926 election.

Cora McQuestion and daughter, Cecelia. Courtesy of Scott County Historical Society.

In her first taste of politics, McQuestion ran against local man Ed Muelkam. The Independent reported that “the vote was very large, probably the heaviest the village ever had.” She soundly defeated her male opponent, in this case by 29 votes. The Minneapolis Journal reported that “her victory was quite as decisive as the affray with the bandits.”

Despite the gains women had made with the vote, as proven by McQuestion’s election, change was not universal. An article in the Jordan Independent from March 11, 1926, for example, omitted McQuestion’s first name, Cora, in favor of her husband’s, James, as was the custom: “The vote on mayor . . . Tuesday was, Mrs. James McQueseion [sic] 82, Ed Muelken [sic] 53.”

Unsurprisingly, given her penchant to use weaponry, McQuestion’s political platform endorsed stronger law enforcement. And having run on law and order, McQuestion oversaw the hiring of Prior Lake’s first police officer.

McQuestion’s life after she left office is full of mystery. Obviously, however, she continued in her community’s respect. The Jordan Independent ran an obituary in mid-December 1942. It extolled McQuestion as “a woman of strong mind and forthrightness” who took a “deep interest in public affairs, was for a term some years ago elected as Mayor of Prior Lake Village, one of the few women-mayors in the history of the state.”

This concludes Part 1 of our three-part article, focusing on Cora McQuestion and her political trajectory. Next week, Part 2 picks up the thread by following the rise of Elizabeth Ries, a Shakopee resident who broke the glass ceiling at about the same time as McQuestion.

If you are interested in writing for the SCHS blog, email info@scottcounthistory.org or call 952-445-0378.

Never Forgotten: Gerald Anderson, Part 4

Please Note: This blog post is an account of World War II, including violence, illness, death, and other themes that may not be suitable for younger readers.  While these stories are an integral part of history, some of the following content may be slightly graphic in nature.

This is the fourth and final part of Gerald Anderson’s story. Use the links below to catch up on Parts 1-3.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The following is an excerpt from “Never Forgotten: Stories by Scott County, Minnesota, WWII Veterans” by Tom Melchior. This is the story of Navy veteran Gerald Anderson, who earned a Baker Third Class ranking. As part of the Commissary Branch, bakers were responsible for all kinds of baking, operating ovens and other baking equipment, and setting up field ovens when ashore.

Gerald shipped out to the South Pacific, namely the Solomon Islands and what is now Papua New Guinea, aboard the USS Perida.

Assigned to the USS Kent

I went back to Bremerton.  I feared I would be assigned to the Bunker Hill.  Instead, I was assigned to the USS New Kent, a troop ship. It held 175 men as ship’s company and took on 2500 troops at any one time. This life was so different than the islands. I was finally NAVY! By comparison, it was paradise!

We had hammocks to sleep in. They rolled with the ocean swells and I loved it. The ship had a real bakery with electric ovens. The bakery measured about four feet to walk in and the length was about 18 feet. It was fully equipped. We could bake bread and stay ahead and feed 2500 men.  We made one pound loaves of bread. We could not make things like cake when the water was a little rough. The batter would spill out of the tins before it was baked. We tried cobblers, bear claws, cinnamon rolls, etc. The bakery was made of stainless steel and was always clean. We always had supplies to work with. The only time we used C-rations was in really rough water.

The war was still going on. The Japanese suicide planes were dive bombing our ships. We could see the “dog fights.” None of the Japanese planes dove for our ship. They seemed to be trying to sink the aircraft carriers, destroyers, and cruisers. 

On board ship we ate standing up with trays at a narrow counter. They fit into a grove to keep them from sliding away. The sleeping quarters were hammocks. Clothing and all personals were kept in a sea bag that was at one end of the hammock. At the other end was a pillow. I took my hammock out, when we were below the equator and hung it under the gun turrets. It was beautiful at night. The ocean just glistened and sparkled like millions of diamonds. The ship rocked easy and steady. I loved it!

Life on board ship was good. I was given a Baking I class rating as soon as I was on board my ship. I was the only Baking I class, but there were always two shifts. The chief commissary steward’s name was Jenson. He was a thorn in my side until they put him off the ship. He was not a creative person and was jealous of my ability to come up with new ways of baking and serving food, which the ship’s company always enjoyed. Finally, Lieutenant Davis, a supply officer, had Jenson transferred and did not replace him.

The Islands

The only time I remember getting off the ship was at Manila. That was because after a certain length of time at sea, they had to let you walk on land to get your legs adjusted again. It was here that the natives climbed the trees and got bananas for us. We think they may have been green or something because we all got severe cramps and really sick. We also drank the two warm beers we were given. To this day I cannot stand the smell of bananas. 

We stopped at American Samoa at Pago Pago, Tonga, Iwo Jima, Enivetok, and Kwajalein in the Marshall Islands, Guam in the Marianna Islands, Bora Bora, New Caledonia, Truk (this island was an area just full of sunken ships – a real graveyard), New Zealand, and Australia. 

On one of the islands where we picked up supplies, there were little weevils in the flour. They ate the glutton in the flour so the flour would raise up but then fall flat. It looked like we had poppy seeds in the bread. The men complained but we told them we didn’t know what happened even though we did.

Typhoon

I will never forget is the typhoon we went through. We had gotten word that it was in our path. We were as well prepared as possible. The ship had become my home, so I felt safe, but it really moaned and groaned. The waves were so high that you could look up and see water. The ship was in the low of a swell. The typhoon lasted for a couple of days. We dropped all anchors and kept the engines going, heading the ship into the swells. Several ships did not make it. If they were too small, they rolled over or capsized. This was the area where the convoy of ships that were to be used to invade Japan was forming. We were near the Philippines at the time. The convoy had so many ships that as far as you could see, you saw only ships. They were like stepping stones all over the ocean. It was massive! This convoy is where I was on August 14, 1945, the day the war ended. The peace treaty was signed on board the USS Missouri, which was in the convoy.

End of the War

I am sure if that invasion had taken place, I would never have made it back alive. When we would have sailed into Japan, we were scheduled to land at Wakayama, Honshu, Japan. The gun emplacements dug into the hills were innumerable. The Japanese were prepared to “fight to the last man.” I have heard the estimates of over a million lives would have been lost if the invasion had taken place. I am so thankful that this war ended and that horrible event never happened.   I realize the loss of lives when we dropped those atom bombs in Japan. I don’t think their lives were any less valuable, but war is without sanity.

I did witness the effects of those bombs because I was with a group allowed to tour the damage at Hiroshima. I can’t begin to try to put into words what I saw there. Devastation was as far as you could see. On one of the trips to Japan, we pulled into another seaport. We saw sunken, half submerged Japanese ships. We took our small landing craft and went from ship to ship. From the parts above water we took souvenirs. When we got back to our own ship, all the souvenirs were taken from us. I’m sure the officers kept them for their collections.

On one of the trips out of Japan, we were loaded with confiscated Japanese rifles. We brought them out into the ocean and dumped them. I kept one of the rifles and sent it home. It is hanging on the wall at the cabin. Anyone in ships company could keep a rifle. My key ring with the bakery tag that also hangs on the cabin wall is from the USS New Kent.

Coming Home

            Gerry docked in San Francisco in March of 1946. He and Ione planned to be married, but the ship was given orders to head for Norfolk, where the ship would be put in the mothball fleet.  However, the ship had boiler problems and had to be towed back.  

When we transferred to the landing craft that took us to shore, we all looked back at our ship. I know I had feelings of “it’s over.” The ship had become my home and I really loved her. I had earned enough points and so it was goodbye to the USS New Kent.

The only plan I had in my mind as I began my journey home was to marry Ione, my constant companion who was to help me for the 50 plus years to untangle and soothe the hurts, the fears, the confusion and the loyalties that were me.

Reflections

I don’t know how these horrors affected the way I lived my life. I only know that they were always “right there.” I had nightmares of them over and over again and would wake up drenched in sweat. Sometimes the dream was an actual event, and sometimes a new twist, but always horrible and frightening. I still can’t explain how fear feels. There are some things that happened that I still can’t talk about now and maybe never will be able to talk about. They are personal and horrible beyond belief. I have had such a wonderful life since then, that I believe those memories should stay buried in my mind. They don’t cause the terrifying dreams/nightmares anymore like they did for over 50 years. Ione and I have talked about this so much lately. It seems like when the war was “50 years ago,” then I was finally able to start talking about my experiences. It is still just as real and just as horrible, but it seems more distant and not quite as threatening. I feel very good about being able to finally allow my mind to spill it out, much like the volcanoes on Bougainville.

Our sons were never allowed to whistle or scream, and they didn’t know why. I told them why after 50 years. I reminded me of the bombing. Tom Brokow’s book, The Greatest Generation, freed me to talk about it. This is the last dream/nightmare I remember having: I was on a sinking ship.  It seemed black everywhere, like it was all burned out. I crawled to safety and the ship sunk. I had this dream only about one year ago. I have no regrets, no bitterness, no anger and I am proud of my part in what was called World War II.

Gerry Anderson was awarded 4 battle ribbons with 4 gold stars. He finished his Navy career as a First Class Baker.

Never Forgotten: Gerald Anderson, Part 3

Please Note: This blog post is an account of World War II, including violence, illness, death, and other themes that may not be suitable for younger readers.  While these stories are an integral part of history, some of the following content may be slightly graphic in nature.

Part 1 Part 2

The following is an excerpt from “Never Forgotten: Stories by Scott County, Minnesota, WWII Veterans” by Tom Melchior. This is the story of Navy veteran Gerald Anderson, who earned a Baker Third Class ranking. As part of the Commissary Branch, bakers were responsible for all kinds of baking, operating ovens and other baking equipment, and setting up field ovens when ashore.

Gerald shipped out to the South Pacific, namely the Solomon Islands and what is now Papua New Guinea, aboard the USS Perida.

The temperatures were always over 100 Fahrenheit with about 85 Fahrenheit at night. At first, we slept on the ground, but later we got cots and even blankets. We burned a big pile of navy blankets because we had no use for them. Our tents would get ripped apart by shrapnel. Mostly we would put a new one right on top of the old one. Our bathroom was a tent with two sides, with seats, and a trough dug in the middle. We each carried our own paper.

We had earthquakes caused by the volcanoes. They rolled you out of your cot. Often our planes could not take off because of the violent shaking and rolling of the ground.

All doctoring and dentistry was done out in the open. The bread mixer flew apart and hit me in the face. The dentist put pegs in my front teeth. I had an awfully sore mouth for awhile. Our dentist, Dr. Mayerle of Chaska, just marvels that those pegs are still in place and are a very good fit. If you ever have watched MASH on television, that’s a pretty good example of what our hospital was like. I gave a direct blood transfusion one day to a man who had both legs amputated. I lay on a table with only a sheet between us. I never knew his name or if he survived.  

There was nothing built when we got to Bougainville, so we started from nothing. Supplies came in on our ships, and we built everything with canvas and stakes. The galley had center pole and a roof, but no sides. The ovens were heated with a diesel generator. The galley was bombed away many times and rebuilt. We were all on C rations until we got it built again. The ovens in the pilot’s galley were electric. Sometimes supply ships were hesitant to come in because of the constant shelling from the hills. We would often not get the provisions when we needed them. I remember even being rationed on ammunition.

One morning when I was on my way to the bakery, the shells started coming in. I ran back, grabbed Frank, and dove into our foxhole right outside our tent, and saw our tent blown away. He would have been killed. Frank always said I saved his life.

The Japanese also came down to watch our movies when we had them, but the movies had to end because they made too easy a target.

I spent two Christmases on Bougainville and they were much like any other day. We did have a church service, although not regularly. A young Catholic priest led all the services for everyone. All attended, no matter what faith they were. That young priest was killed on Bougainville. Prayer was an important part of my daily life. I had then and still have a firm bond with my Lord.

During the entire time I was overseas, I saw only three women. One was a nurse, who came to pick up the wounded. I believe one of the wounded she came for was the man I gave blood to because I saw her there. The other two were with Bob Hope, who came to Bougainville around Christmas time to give us a show. I remember the protection he and his group were given. I guess it makes sense now, but at the time it made me angry. Machine guns were all around the stage pointing at our men!  I never got to see the show, but we did feed them in the pilots’ galley.

Men reacted differently under fire and the continued stress. Many walked into the ocean or disappeared into the jungle. I saw them. It was hard to see. I carry those pictures in my mind. The officers tried to stop the suicides or spot the ones who were showing signs of snapping, but they didn’t always catch it.

There were quite a few little Koala bears. They were cute, lived in trees, and came down to steal food. There were also coconut rats everywhere. We hated them!  There were coral snakes that lived in and around the coral. They were poisonous. Before we could swim in the ocean, they would spray the beach with fuel and ignite it to clear the beach of snakes. There were many mosquitoes. At first, we had nothing, only the ground to sleep on and no covering. Later, we did have netting to put over our cots. There were also many kinds of lizards. They did not bite, so we ignored them.

We swam sometimes on Sunday afternoons. We also had ball games on the strip. The other entertainment was Tokyo Rose over the loud speaker once that was in place. She told us what we were missing.

The pilots had a better diet than we did, more fresh fruit. They could sit down and eat. Whatever time they came in we fed them. We got to eat the same food they did. One of the pilots was gonna have a birthday and he wanted apple pie. He brought apples in from Australia. I did ride in the planes with the pilots many times. The pilots were not supposed to take me along, but they knew I could bake apple pies. I went with him over the island of Rabaul while he dropped his load of bombs. There was a seat in the back where I sat. This was a thrill I will not forget. I went with them on practice runs over our ships. We’d go up really high, so high you could barely see the ship, and then dive at it. The ship got bigger and bigger, and then the pilot pulled the plane straight up. I did get sick a couple of times when we got back, but I would do it again if asked.

We did get time off, and during that time we wrote letters and washed clothes. Letters were our lifeblood. Sometimes, it would be days and even weeks before we got mail. The letters we wrote were all censored before they left the island. When people got my letters, they would be cut up – a word here and there, or entire paragraphs. I always read all my other mail first and saved Ione’s till last.  Her letters were so important!

Gerry got a 30 day rehab leave, his first in two years and four months, after serving 18 months on the islands. 

When we were finally ready to make the trip home by train, I wore my dress blues. I was thinking I wanted the folks to see me as a sailor and accept me. I was always proud of the fact that I was in the U.S. Navy. 

The feeling of “being home” was just as soon as I stepped onto American soil. My folks and Ione met me at the train depot. I remember sitting by Ione on the way home. It was, in a way, difficult to be home. I could not share any of my last two years. I did ask Ione to marry me, and we bought an engagement ring in downtown Minneapolis. When my 30 days were up, I was afraid to go back. I was sobbing like a baby when I walked away from the folks and Ione. I dared not look back.

Never Forgotten: Gerald Anderson, Part 2

Please Note: This blog post is an account of World War II, including violence, illness, death, and other themes that may not be suitable for younger readers.  While these stories are an integral part of history, some of the following content may be slightly graphic in nature.

Part 1

The following is an excerpt from “Never Forgotten: Stories by Scott County, Minnesota, WWII Veterans” by Tom Melchior. This is the story of Navy veteran Gerald Anderson, who earned a Baker Third Class ranking. As part of the Commissary Branch, bakers were responsible for all kinds of baking, operating ovens and other baking equipment, and setting up field ovens when ashore.

Gerald shipped out to the South Pacific, namely the Solomon Islands and what is now Papua New Guinea, aboard the USS Perida.

Bougainville

After the Marines had secured the beach head on Bougainville, we moved up there on LSTs during the night. I sat on one of three bulldozers. When we got to the bay, the front of the LST dropped down, and we were hit by artillery shells from the hills and we lost many men. I lost all my belongings. I followed the bulldozer in waist deep water going ashore. The LSTs were all sunk. As soon as we hit land, we dug fox holes. I found out I could dig with my fingernails. This bay was named Empress Augusta Bay. The area on the island was called Torokina. We had to restock by taking supplies off the men who had been killed coming ashore. 

Shortly after this, I was reassigned to a new unit, Casu 12.  My old unit, Acorn 15, lost about 600 men, who were either killed or wounded. Out of 800, fewer than 200 of us were left. We were not combat trained. We were issued rifles, but we had no gun training. Some of the men had never even fired a gun. We had been trained to serve on board a ship, but not in the ways of jungle combat. We had not been taught how to dig a foxhole or given any tools

This bay, which would be home for 18 months, was shaped like a crescent. It was about two miles deep (into the jungle) by 10 miles of shore. It was coral and very swampy. We could not dig very deep, or we would be in water. We always dug our foxholes right next to our beds because we never knew when shelling would start or when the Japanese planes would strafe the bay. We had to bury the dead men at night because we could not use light of any kind. The odor of death was so powerful. A body began to decompose within hours after death. After the attacks that killed so many, we had to pile the bodies, both American and Japanese, and cover them with airplane fuel and burn them. I was 19 years old. I lived with this for the entire 18 months I was there (and also for the next 50-plus years.)

We could see the Japanese bomber planes coming way up high. We got to understand that when our anti-aircraft guns would fire at them, the Japanese fighter planes would come in low to strafe the ground. They were trying to hit our planes. We had to hit the ground and we always covered our heads with our arms. The strafing was so frightening. The planes dropped incendiary bombs, and the shells that came out of the hills whistled or screamed. The bombing and shelling lasted for hours. To this day, anyone whistling makes me tense and hurts my head.

The largest Japanese stronghold was Rabaul on the island of New Britain.  Our planes would fly over Rabaul with bombs to try and knock out this camp. We never took Rabaul, which is also where the Japanese planes came from when we were bombed and strafed. The incendiary bombs would explode into fire, but unless it was a direct hit, nothing around it would burn. The ground was like a bog and the jungle growth was so green and thick, nothing would burn.

It rained every afternoon. The plants grew overnight. Every day we all had to cut plants that kept growing up in our tents. The plants looked like bamboo. I am sure that after all Americans had left the island, the jungle would have grown over everything we had built in just two to three weeks.

It surprised the Japanese when we came into the bay. They were well fortified on the mountain side. It must have been that the water in the bay was deep enough for ships. They expected us on the other side, the high side. There were two active volcanoes on Bougainville and they would bubble over. We could see the hot lava run down the sides. These volcanoes would kill our radar, so that we did not know when the Japanese planes were coming in to shell us. One night there was very heavy shelling, and we had to spend all night in the foxholes. When morning came, all the jungle trees had been mowed in half. We also had our own ships shooting into the hills from the bay. 

It was our job to feed the men, but under heavy shelling we could not bake. Frank Waliser and I took K-rations and ran through the camp, putting one (or two, three, and sometimes four) into each foxhole. All the while shells were bursting around us.

We used field ovens and a field galley. All the equipment was out in the open. The ovens were about a foot off the ground and made of heavy cast iron. We had a table to knead the bread on. The ovens held ten loaves at a time. I think we had five ovens. We put the dough in a 55 gallon barrel that we had cut in half to rise. The flour came in square tin containers. They held only enough flour for one batch of bread. The flour would mold when exposed to the air. The yeast came dry. The sugar also came in tins. Vanilla at first came in liquid, but the men drank it, so then it came in a pill form. We baked bread and cookies daily. Everything we baked was always eaten. There was no refrigeration. There were never any tables or chairs to sit at, so everybody ate standing up. Everyone ate off their own mess kit plate and was responsible for cleaning it. It was issued at the time you got your clothes.

There was never any fighting among the men that I was aware of. There was segregation though. The blacks were in one area, and whites in another, except for when I worked in the pilots’ galley. There the men were all black, except for AP Sprinkle, Ed Hawney, and myself. I was transferred to the pilot galley when I got a Baking II class rating. That’s when I met AP and Ed and from then on I lived with them.

At about this time the Japanese started infiltrating the camp and would kill one at a time by strangulation with wire. One morning after Frank and I had gone to work, the other two men in our tents were strangled. The Japanese used copper wire and would sneak into the tent in the dark and hold the wire tight. That way there was never any sound. Many men lost their lives this way.  To this day, I sleep with my arms up by my head.

Once a pilot brought in some fresh apples from Australia. I made apple pies, one pie at a time, with my mother’s recipe. They ate them as fast as I made them.  Another time, they brought in what we thought was hamburger. It turned out to be ground goat meat. It was terrible! They also brought in horse meat. It was like ham, only stringy. 

Sometimes we threw hand grenades into the ocean. It killed small sharks and then we had a feast of fresh fish. That feast required a lot of bread baking because the enlisted men were invited. One of the cooks, who was good with preparing fish, was from the Philippines. After the war, he sent me an invitation to a restaurant he opened in Los Angeles. His family had all been killed by the Japanese. He had a real hatred for all of them, killing as many as he could. He threw hand grenades into the prisoner compound at night.

Drinking water was a big premium item. You were issued one canteen per day for all your personal needs. Food was dehydrated, so there was water to prepare it. We also got orange marmalade in gallon containers. There were potatoes, rice, cabbage, eggs, dried beef, milk – all dehydrated foods. We also had canned SPAM and lots of beans. The beans were dried also, and just cooked with salt and pepper. I remember adding sugar to mine and that tasted a little bit better.