A Small Town 4th of July in 1926
A 4th of July parade on Main Street Deerfield, Wisconsin. Photo courtesy Deerfield Historical Society
Written for the Deerfield Independent in 1969 by Lloyd F Anderson. Note: Deerfield is a small village 16 miles east of Madison in Dane County. In days gone by, Deerfield’s 4th of July celebrations were held along the banks of Koshkonong Creek, west of the village near Liberty Road. The creek was known as Lee’s Creek, named after the Sievert Lee farm through which it ran. Old timers in the area still refer to it as Lee’s Creek.
In the early days of the century after a long, cold winter and a busy spring, with planting complete and the crops coming along fine, it did not take much of an excuse to bring the good people of the Deerfield community together for a summer picnic.
With July 4 for Independence Day, the timing was perfect. During the early twenties, area firemen, already pressed with the costly new economics of the automobile age, made this community picnic an annual event. Lee’s Woods was usually selected as the picnic site, a delightful place of virgin forest, a clean-flowing creek, the home farm of my wife’s grandparents. The big event of the afternoon to the sponsors was the water fight, wherein two Deerfield firemen fought neighboring village departments with a powerful stream of water supplied by a fire truck pumping direct from Lee’s Creek. The first firemen’s picnic to stay in my memory begins with the pleasant walk up the railroad track from the village and the seemingly endless line of “dressed up” people, carrying small American flags and large picnic baskets. It seemed that everyone dressed in white or black in those days, and white was the color of summer celebrations.
In the morning, the main event was the ball game. Marshall was the favorite opponent in those days. The ball field was in an open bit of cow pasture, and as usual were much concerned to avoid what “Casey thought was third base.” I was very proud to be selected by one of my many uncles to go around with him pushing a wheelbarrow, removing these hazards before the game! Noon hour was speech time. The formula was simple. Do your best to get a LaFollette, if unavailable, almost anyone else would do. The speaker was important. People listened attentively. For many, this was the only opportunity of the year to get close to a candidate. Only an occasional drunk could be found – far from the speaker’s platform. These were long-winded fellows, and it took almost two hours and a pitcher of ice water to complete the message. This, of course, was followed by a good deal of hand shaking. Ice cream went well. Vanilla only... (and) hamburgers (10 cents). Stand draped with red, white and blue bunting sold pop, cooled in large zinc tubs, filled with blocks of melting ice. No colas in those days. Strawberry and orange were the best sellers. Root beer of course, and two flavors – Green River and Cream Soda, that were favorites of mine.
The pony race was great fun to watch and thrilled the kids, but was something of a farce. Neri Howe had the fastest pony in the area, and always won…year after year. The same with the great finger pulling contest, it was always Carl Mickelson (south) against Oscar Michaelis. All afternoon, until dusk, Dr. Van Sant led the Deerfield Community Band. His group, never very large, grew steadily smaller as the day progressed, with “home brew” taking its toll of the more thirsty band members. Finally came the great water fight. One fire engine with two outlets was the power source. The teams stood 100 feet apart. Marks were placed behind them beyond which they could not retreat. One man, the backer, turned his back to the enemy. The nozzle man faced the other team and directed the hose.
Herman Thompson and Otto Sorum were the early Deerfield Championship team. They easily beat out neighboring villages and once fought Belleville for so long the fight had to be stopped in a draw. However, while the Deerfield boys walked home, both Belleville Firemen ended up in the hospital. Later, Herman’s brother, Peter, teamed up with Otto Sorum and they became State Champs. On two state tours, they won every water fight while Pete, to show how they grow them around Deerfield, picked up silver and gold medals winning foot races.
(There were) no beer tents in those days. Prohibition. But in the back seats of the automobiles or in tubs on the edge of the park could be found ample supplies of long, dark bottles called “home brew.” This evil-smelling, foul-tasting concoction turned sunburned faces even more red in the summer. While enjoying the home brew, many a farmer would reach down into the depths of his long snap-topped pocketbook for money to bet on Deerfield’s Water Fighting Team, under the eye of his mildly disapproving wife. Luckily, we always had a winner.