The Electrification of Monroe County: A Five-Part History

Visitors to the Monroe County Local History Room in Sparta can find many unique windows into the past: an old switchboard from the days before cell phones, military artifacts going as far back as the Civil War, 3-D photographs from a cross-country road trip taken by a county resident in the 1950s, and so on.

Along the museum’s east wall is a small barn containing at least two dozen tools and machines used on farms more than one hundred years ago. This includes a barrel churn and dash churn, both of which were powered by hand and used to make butter, as well as a corn sheller to separate kernels from cobs and a fanning mill that cleaned grain before it was ground into flour.

The biggest machine by far is a treadmill from the Hill family farm outside of Tomah. Unlike modern treadmills, which are used by people for exercise, this machine was powered by hooves and paws. Whenever the Hill family needed to use their cream separator, a dog or ram would be placed on the treadmill and compelled to walk. As it did, the treadmill would turn a belt, which would power the separator.

Eventually, the treadmill, like many other farm implements, was replaced by a gas-powered engine, making farm work easier for both humans and animals. By placing these items on display, we are offered a small but important glimpse into daily life before electricity.

When the U.S. government conducted a census of the nation’s farmers in 1920, it asked the standard questions about acreage, crop yield, the number and variety of livestock, and so on. However, for the first time, it also asked farmers about utilities. Did their farm have a telephone? Did they pipe water into their home? Did their farm have gas or electric lights?

The results were eye-opening. Less than 9% of Wisconsin farmers had either gas or electric lights. And while this was above the national average of 7%, it still meant that most farmers in Wisconsin still lit their homes and barns with kerosene, candles, or some other method.

The takeaway was unmistakable:  farmers needed someone to bring them light.

In Monroe County, residents of the cities and villages had enjoyed well-lit streets for years, if not decades. This was due to local plants, either privately or publicly owned, which generated power through water, air, or engines. But residents living outside of municipal boundaries had no access to these plants and the benefits they provided. Instead, they had to find other ways to bring power and light into their lives.

Farmers often relied on windmills, which could generate enough power to pump water and irrigate a field, but little else. In the 1890s, the village of Cashton used such a windmill to pump municipal water, while the George Warren Company in Warrens used windmills to help power its business.

Some county residents used gasoline-powered engines, though these were rare and usually reserved for businesses rather than homes. In Kendall, William Waters and his son Earnest used one to power their “wood-sawing machine,” while Fred Moote added a two-horsepower engine to his blacksmith shop. In Cashton, Charles Tosterud used a similar engine to freeze homemade ice cream for his restaurant.

Eventually, a better option came along:  Delco-Light Plants, which were large engines that could generate anywhere from 600 to 1,250 watts of power, depending on the model. This was enough to light a dozen 50-watt light bulbs but not much else. Invented by Charles Kettering in 1913, a Delco-Light Plant was powered by either air-cooled gasoline or kerosene, and came with sixteen glass jars that served as the storage battery. According to a 1920 advertisement, they were “a complete electric light and power plant for farms, country homes, schools, churches, stores and small towns.” One year after going on sale, Kettering’s company had sold 21,000 plants across the United States.

The first record of a Delco-Light Plant in Monroe County is from October 1918, when Fred Degenhardt of Cashton had one installed at his home. The following year, a Delco store opened on Water Street in Sparta, which sold not only power plants but entire lighting systems. Eventually, Delco plants were installed in locations as diverse as St. Mary’s Church near Cashton, Pelley’s Dam Resort north of Sparta, and the Portland General Store owned by C.N. Homstad.

The man responsible for bringing Delco plants to Monroe County homes was Phil Appleman. A resident of Cashton, Appleman served as the company’s local representative. He not only sold the plants but installed them himself. One newspaper, writing of Appleman in 1919, referred to him as a “live wire,” and Appleman later claimed that Delco-Light “is doing more for the farmers of Monroe County than all other farm lighting plants together.” As proof, he included the names of more than 25 residents who used Delco plants. It is a testament to Appleman’s skills as a salesman that his customers could be found across the entire county, from Oakdale to Melvina, Wyeville to Sparta, Valley Junction to Tunnel City.

While rural areas made slow progress towards electric lights, there was still no solution when it came to preserving food. Because electric refrigerators would not become readily available in Monroe County until the 1930s, residents relied on time-tested methods for keeping their food cold and safe. During winter, ice was harvested from millponds by small armies of “ice men,” who used large saws to remove it in blocks that sometimes measured 20 to 30 inches wide.

In Norwalk, ice was harvested from Moore’s Creek, while the residents of Oakdale used ice cut from Maum’s Pond by Oscar Tralmer, owner of Tralmer’s General Store. In Kendall, Charles Collins cut ice from both the Elroy swimming pool and a nearby creek, then brought it back to Kendall in 400-pound blocks. One history of the village noted that Collins was “well-loved” by village residents and would “treat the kids along his ice route to a small chunk of ice to suck on during a hot summer day.”

Once harvested, the ice was stored in warehouses, where it was covered in sawdust to keep it from melting too fast in the spring. From there, ice would be sold to homes and businesses. Milk, butter, cheese, meat, and other perishable products were kept alongside the ice in boxes, which acted as simplified refrigerators.

If ice wasn’t an option, people could store their food underground, where temperatures were cooler. Fruits and vegetables could also be canned, which kept them fresh for months, while meat could be brined and smoked. One history of Oakdale noted that “pork sometimes was put up in its own fat, and then covered with a salted rag. Hams were sometimes buried in oat bins to keep the rats and mice away.” Despite these efforts, food poisoning, called “summer flu,” was rampant.

Food poisoning was not the only danger for those living without electricity. Newspapers from the early 20th century contain endless articles on engines crushing hands, men falling off windmills, and kerosene lamps exploding. These latter accidents could be particularly brutal. In 1869, the Sparta Democrat reported on Mrs. William Casey, whose lamp exploded “by some means or other” and engulfed her in flames. Thinking quickly, Casey threw a blanket over herself to stifle the fire, and was on track to recover. Nevertheless, the paper took this opportunity to remind its readers that kerosene “is not always as pure as it should be,” and that “too much care cannot be taken to avoid accidents of this description.”

Even when they weren’t lit, kerosene lamps were a danger. More than once, a local newspaper featured reports of children who became sick after mistakenly drinking kerosene. In most instances the child survived, though it was a reminder to parents that even the most basic tools could be fatal. (As more of the county became electrified, these articles were replaced with stories of children being electrocuted, often while climbing power lines.)

Well into the 1920s, rural electrification remained a low priority for those in power. Not until 1935, when Franklin Delano Roosevelt delivered his annual message to Congress, did the issue gain an ally with the power and influence to get it done.

Only two years into his first term as president, Roosevelt’s speech touched off a spark of progress that would see electricity come to all corners of the country, including the fields and valleys of Monroe County. And all it took was two words: rural electrification.