FROM ASSIMILATION TO TERMINATION

Linda LeGarde Grover

“It is commonly supposed that there is no systematic education of their childrenamong the aborigines of this country. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

—Ohiyesa (Dr. Charles A. Eastman), Indian Boyhood (1902)

The Vermilion LakeIndian School

The Vermilion LakeIndian School

Winter 2002–03 225

The Vermilion Lake districtof Nett Lake Reservation lies on thesouthern end of Lake Vermilion inMinnesota’s St. Louis County. Visi-tors to quiet, wooded Hoodoo Pointnear the town of Tower can see acrossthe lake to the reservation on SuckerPoint: the Head Start building, gym-nasium, community center, play-ground, baseball field, and pow-wowgrounds. From that distance theycannot see an old sidewalk runningby the lake to an unused field, a side-walk imprinted with the invisible yetindelible footprints of hundreds ofchildren. Their presence is still felton this site of a long-closed boardingschool that for half a century housedIndian children and attempted toeducate them through assimilation.

The Vermilion area was home tothe Bois Forte people and a centralpart of the vast Ojibwe, or Chippewa,lands that stretched fromMine Cen-ter, Ontario, to the Laurentian Divide(north of Virginia, Minnesota) andfrom Saganaga Lake to the LittleFork River. Treaties in 1842, 1854,and 1888 resulted in a reservationconsisting of two Bois Forte “dis-tricts.” Vermilion is the smaller; themore populated Nett Lake lies about50 miles west. Between 200 and300 residents live in the Vermiliondistrict today.1

Educating children has alwaysbeen of prime importance to theOjibwe people. At the time of west-ern impact—as it is now—educationwas a holistic and lifelong experi-ence. Children learned from theirparents, other relatives, and mem-bers of the community, particularlythe elders, whose wisdom and expe-rience ensured the survival of theculture. But the Ojibwe tradition of

training by observation, modeling,experience, and oral tradition wasnot acknowledged or validated—perhaps not even seen—by mission-aries, entrepreneurs, and policy-makers who arrived in the UpperMidwest in the nineteenth century.The United States’ Indian-educationsystem that followed was built on thepremise that Indian children were notbeing educated and needed exposureto the superior western culture.2

Historically, Indian educationwas linked with federal policies de-signed to force assimilation. In 1819Congress passed the Indian Civiliza-tion Act, which authorized federalfunding for Christian missionarysocieties to establish Indian schools.In 1870 mission schools began con-tracting for government subsidies tooperate as “federal contract” schools.A new system was born in 1879 withthe opening of the federal Indianboarding school in Carlisle, Pennsyl-vania. Its founder, Richard HenryPratt, had previously worked withCheyenne, Kiowa, and Comancheprisoners in Florida. To instill disci-pline and order, he dressed them inold army uniforms and drilled themas a platoon. As a further experiment,he had some of them taught to read.Pratt claimed he had discovered anew way to deal with the “Indianproblem”—by education and assimi-lation. “I believe in immersing theIndians in our civilization and whenwe get them under holding them thereuntil they are thoroughly soaked.”His method became the policy offederal Indian boarding schools forthe next half-century. Generations ofIndian people were supposed to gaineconomic independence by emulat-ing white society and abandoning

tribal cultures. To reach this goal, thegovernment mandated compulsoryeducation. Children were removedfrom their homes and sent to board-ing schools to learn the English lan-guage and values of American cul-ture while forgetting their ownlanguages and values.3

By the 1890s this policy of assimi-lation was firmly in place. In Minne-sota, boarding and reservation dayschools for Indian children had in-creased in number and scope fromthe small mission schools of the1830s to campuses that could housemore than 400 boarders and servemore than 1,700 children. VermilionLake pupils had attended a missionschool on Pike Bay between 1878 and1890. In 1885–86 officials counted163 children in the district; 50 ofthem were enrolled in day school,although average attendance was 25.A dozen years later, a new govern-ment Indian boarding school wasbeing planned for Vermilion Lake.“Capt. G. L. Scott, 6th U.S. Cavalry,Indian agent from Ashland . . . wasin town on Tuesday for the purposeof looking over the site for the Indianschool at Sucker Point,” the Vermil-ion Iron Journal reported in Febru-ary 1897. “That the school will bebuilt is . . . an assured fact.”4

Left:Uniformed students and staff pose by a school building on a wintry day, 1910s

Linda Grover, director of Indian

education for the Duluth public

schools and assistant professor at

the University of Minnesota, Du-

luth, is a member of the Bois Forte

band from the Vermilion district of

Nett Lake Reservation. Her grand-

parents met at the Vermilion school,

and other relatives attended board-

ing schools in Minnesota, Wiscon-

sin, Kansas, and Canada.

226 Minnesota History

The Lake Vermilion area istypical of Minnesota’s north woodsin its natural beauty. Forested anddotted with lakes, the wild and boun-teous terrain had sustained the BoisForte people for countless genera-tions. The Indian school’s location onSucker Point is particularly beautiful,with the deep color of the water some-times contrasting, sometimes blend-ing, with the soft greens, blues, andgrays of the forest and sky. The Of-fice of Indian Affairs chose this loca-tion not for aesthetic reasons, how-ever, but for pragmatic ones: thereluctance of Bois Forte parents tosend their children away to school,the significant number of children inboth the Nett Lake and Vermiliondistricts, and the lobbying from Indi-ans and non-Indians in both districtsfor a school. One Indian family livingin Tower enrolled its children in pub-lic school there, but most VermilionLake children did not attend schoolat all. The trip to the day school at

Nett Lake, some 50 miles away, wasnot possible for them.5

Travel from the Vermilion districtto Tower was difficult; it was two-and-one-half miles across the lake orten miles along the shore by footpath.The lake could be crossed by boat insummer or over ice in winter, butunstable ice in the spring and fall andextensive swampland “rendered [thepeninsula] an island” much of theyear. This isolation made SuckerPoint the planners’ prime choice forthe boarding school. Its remotenesswould help curb runaways, a recurrentproblem at Indian boarding schools.6

Most of the school buildings atVermilion were constructed in 1898and 1899. They were wood-framestructures painted white with ironroofs painted red. Behind them weregrazing fields, farm acreage, and,later, a concrete-and-stone cow barn,the school’s most solid structure.7

The school was picturesque, with itsclean and attractive red-and-white

lines contrasting with the lake andgreenery in summer and blendingwith the snow and ice in winter.

When Vermilion opened in 1899,it offered classes through the approxi-mate equivalent of fourth grade; by1911 its top level was comparable totoday’s sixth or seventh grade,although the students were generallyolder. The school was administeredby a superintendent and between twoand five teachers over the years, aswell as support staff such as a cook,matron, and handyman. Althoughopened for Bois Forte children, theschool enrolled students from otherOjibwe bands as well as other tribalgroups fromMinnesota, northwest-ern Wisconsin, and parts of Canada.In fact, in the early years, only about20 percent of the pupils were BoisForte. Absent were the 30-or-so stu-dents expected from Nett Lake. Al-though the day school had closed inthe summer of 1898, parents resistedsending their children away.8

Ojibwe family on Lake Vermilion, about 1905

Winter 2002–03 227

Like the staff at all Indian board-ing schools, Vermilion Lake’s super-intendent, teachers, and staff wereresponsible for recruiting and retain-ing sufficient numbers of pupils tomaintain government funding. Thefirst superintendent, Oliver H. Gates,began before Vermilion opened.(Gates also helped reopen the NettLake day school in 1902, when itbecame apparent that its childrenwould never enroll at VermilionLake.) Although many accounts existof children being forcibly torn fromtheir families and sent to boardingschools, there is no evidence of thatpractice at Vermilion. However,coercion was certainly a useful tool.Typically, the Vermilion recruiterwould visit families, point out thedifficulties of their existence and thefutility of efforts to continue livingthe Indian way, promote the educa-tional and life opportunities thatschool offered, and attempt to per-suade the families to send their chil-

dren with the recruiter—that veryday, if possible.9

Recruiting efforts at Vermilionschool were successful. By the1906–07 school year there were 40pupils. This number peaked at 120 in1909–10 and leveled off at 100 to 115pupils for the next decade. Atten-dance was good, and the problem ofrunaways appears to have beenminor. One reason may have beenthe presence and effective utilizationof the Indian staff, such as MarySusan LeGarde Riegert, the cook:“She was always good to us, and shedidn’t care if we talked Indian in thedormitory. She talked Indian with uswhen she was putting us to bed,”recalled a former student.10

The Indian staff was crucial tothe school’s success. During the1900s and 1910s, between three andseven Indian people were employedas workers and vocational teachers.The cook also taught cooking; thelaundress, sewing and laundering;

the laborer and disciplinarian, farm-ing and industrial arts. Unlike mostsuperintendents, Indian employeescontributed to the stability of theschool by staying for years and know-ing the students and families. Manyof them, including Mrs. Riegert, Mr.and Mrs. Peter Wetenhall, Mrs.Angus, and Mr. Anderson, did muchof the successful recruiting. Parents,powerless in the face of federal policy,worried about their children’s healthand safety, both physical and spiri-tual.11 The Indian staff at Vermilionmade a sad situation more bearablefor students and their families.Mary Riegert, for example, a

local Ojibwe widow with five smallchildren, became the cook shortlyafter the school opened, stayed fornearly 20 years, and then workeduntil retirement at other Indianschools. She was promoted to be acombination cook and domestic-artsteacher and eventually became thegirls’ matron. Her children attended

Lakeside view of the “Government Indian School, Tower,” from a postcard, about 1910

228 Minnesota History

the school, then a Bayfield, Wiscon-sin, Catholic boarding school, andfinally Haskell Institute, an Indiantrade school in Lawrence, Kansas.Several of Riegert’s nieces andnephews also attended the Vermil-ion school, drawn there by her pres-ence. Because the boarding-schoolsystem was designed to break the tiesso revered by Indian families, theopportunity to attend a school withrelatives was especially appreciated.12

At most boarding schools,including Vermilion, children wereintroduced to a philosophy of educa-tion far different from the gentle oraltradition that they, their parents, and

grandparents had experienced. Onarrival, they were “sanitized”; that is,bathed, sometimes by a staff mem-ber, and deloused, whether they hadlice or not. Their clothing wasthrown away or stored, and theywere outfitted with a school uniform.Boys were not allowed to wear theirhair long, and girls were given thehairstyles of non-Indian schoolgirls.This alteration in appearance wasmeant to be the first step in changingthe entire American Indian popula-tion by way of its youngest, mostimpressionable, and most pliablemembers.13

Children usually wore military-style uniforms like those Pratt had

introduced at Carlisle. At larger In-dian schools, uniforms were some-times elaborately decorated withepaulets and insignia, but Vermilion’swere plain. The boys wore dark,military-style jackets, pants, and caps.The girls wore dresses made by theolder students and staff members;only girls who “needed” a dress gotone. The bolts of government-issuedfabric varied by the year, so the girlswere dressed in a variety of darkgingham plaids, solids, and prints,sometimes poorly woven or badlysewn. The boys’ ready-made uni-forms were sometimes of shoddymaterial, poorly cut, ill fitting, anduncomfortable. Shipments of uni-

Staff members (from left) Mrs. Riegert, Mrs. Angus, and Mrs. Wetenhall relax with young Conrad Wetenhall on a warm day, 1910s

Winter 2002–03 229

forms and school supplies to theVermilion school were sporadic andusually late. In 1910, when the newuniforms arrived before schoolopened, Superintendent Thomas F.Rodwell thanked the Indian bureauand noted the improvements: “1. Thequality of the uniforms are an im-provement . . . both in material andcolor (boys). 2. In style they are morebecoming, and neater (boys). 3. Thefit of the coats are fine, the pantsnot so good.”14

Not only the students’ appear-ance changed at school. They weretaught to stand at attention with eyesstraight ahead, a difference in de-meanor for Indian children who hadlearned at home that an indirectstance with eyes lowered indicatedrespect. Sometimes children weregiven new names, as well. No wonderthat children sometimes returnedhome changed in ways that wereneither understood nor desired.15

While Vermilion children werefortunate to have a school nearby,even those who lived within walkingdistance could not go home until theend of the school year. This was partof the assimilation plan; even briefcontact with family was considereddetrimental. Vermilion studentslived in a dormitory where girls andboys were separated by floor or wing.Students slept two to a bed, at leastuntil 1910. They washed and ate theirmeals in another building. Showerand toilet facilities, located in a base-ment, were inadequate. Three show-ers had to accommodate 120 students,and the septic system, installed be-tween 1911 and 1914 and functioningfor only a few years, could not handlethe volume of use.16

Outside the classroom, studentswere overseen by a girls’ matron and aboy’s disciplinarian. Native languageswere not allowed, but some Indianstaff spoke Ojibwe with the children

in the dormitory, although this wasnot officially “known” by the teachersor superintendent. Discipline wasstrict and regularly included spank-ing, whipping, and at least one in-stance of a student having to kneel ona navy bean for an hour. Punishmentsat schools that students attended afterVermilion were even more severe.Some had “cells” or “dungeons,” darkrooms where students were confinedfor days and given only bread andwater; some used psychological pun-ishment, such as forcing a young boyto dress like a girl for a month orcutting a rebellious girl’s hair as shortas a boy’s. One Vermilion graduateattempting to run away from HaskellInstitute sustained injuries requiringhospitalization and resulting inpermanent disability. Although thereare no written records of this degreeof punishment at Vermilion, formerstudents recalled at least one punish-ment that resulted in a student’s

Below left: Female students in matching dresses, 1913, including EmmaMantell (first row, left)

and Rhoda St. John (first row, right). Below right: James Mantell, with roomy jacket and rolled

pants legs, and John Anderson, whose school uniform was a better fit

230 Minnesota History

death. (Tallies of the number of stu-dents who died there vary greatly,from very small in federal reports tomuch larger in the accounts of formerstudents.) Robert Gawboy recalled,“A lot of Indians died in that Indianschool. . . . I know. I was there.”17

As at all Indian boarding schools,pupils at Vermilion had work assign-ments. Girls cooked, cleaned, washedclothes, and sewed. Boys worked inthe school’s sawmill, repaired andmaintained buildings, and laboredon the grounds. Both boys and girlsworked in the dairy, a popular placebecause they liked the animals. Olderstudents helped take care of theyounger children, making sure thatthey washed and dressed in themornings, teaching them to keeptheir clothing in order and make theirbeds, and comforting them when they

were lonely and homesick. Everyoneworked on the farm, planting andcultivating vegetables, which wasoften backbreaking and exhausting.Student labor made the Vermilionschool self-sufficient in many ways.18

Most Indian boarding schoolsincluded farming in their curricu-lum, regardless of its feasibility indiffering locales. With the 1887 Gen-eral Allotment (Dawes) Act, the fed-eral government had broken reserva-tion lands into allotments of 40, 80,or 160 acres distributed to individualband members. (The people of theVermilion district were assignedparcels at Nett Lake, 50 miles away.)This new concept of land ownershipfor Indians gave another direction toeducation policy: children would betaught to farm in preparation for as-similation into rural America. Boys

would become farmers who producedfood for their nuclear families as wellas cash profits; girls would becomefarmers’ wives who would instillEuro-American values in their chil-dren. Vermilion Lake Indian School’ssuperintendents enthusiasticallyfostered agricultural education butmet with limited success because ofnortheastern Minnesota’s rocky ter-rain, swampland, and short growingseason.19

By 1910 Vermilion Lake Indianschool had grown to 120 pupils, 8staff members, and 10 buildings: adormitory, school, employees’ livingquarters, double cottage for the su-perintendent and school engineer,laundry, commissary, barn, boat-house, and cottages for employeeswith families. In the next few years

Gas lamps illuminate the dining room, where students ate beneath a tattered American flag and presidential portraits

Winter 2002–03 231

five more employees’ cottages werebuilt with the help of male students.The decade that followed was a rela-tively stable time. Attendance wasgood, and there was a consistent coreof three or four dependable staffmembers, a turnover rate lower thanat most boarding schools. But inmany ways the school began to stag-nate, as each of the succeeding su-perintendents became discouragedtrying to communicate with a federalgovernment—distant in miles andfarther away in spirit—that requiredvoluminous, highly regulated writtenreports and moved slowly in supply-ing the school’s needs. Pleas formoney to improve facilities wentunmet, and the buildings began todeteriorate. Each superintendentfrom 1910 to 1919 requested moneyfor repair, replacement, or additional

facilities, requests that were unan-swered or only partially funded.20

For example, Dr. Thomas Rod-well, superintendent and physicianat Vermilion from 1907 to 1910, re-signed to return to his medical prac-tice in Wisconsin after fighting aconstant and losing battle to improvethe school buildings. In his finalreport to the Department of the Inte-rior, he stated that many Indian chil-dren still were not attending becausetheir parents would not send themaway. He hoped that “as the countryis being rapidly settled up by whitefamilies, and the district school issure to follow . . . should the Indianpupil happen to live near one of thesedistrict school[s], he or she couldreadily take up the work and a greatgain would be made in advancementby such pupil.” Rodwell also reported

that the school’s buildings were inneed of repair; plumbing and sewagesystems were being stretched farbeyond their capacity; and an infir-mary was needed.21

Health was another reason In-dian parents were reluctant to sendtheir children to boarding schools.Rheumatic diseases, pneumonia,meningitis, and tuberculosis hadbeen problems during Rodwell’ssuperintendency, along with less life-threatening but serious illnesses suchas trachoma, a contagious eye infec-tion that can cause blindness. His1909–10 report lists one death fromcerebral spinal meningitis, as well asone of acute rheumatism that resultedin cardiac failure. (Students in otheryears died from measles, influenza,blood poisoning, diphtheria, and byaccidents such as drowning and falls.)

Children planting a garden at one of Minnesota’s Indian boarding schools, about 1900

232 Minnesota History

Rodwell closed his final report byurging the Department of the Inte-rior to build a suitable hospital, esti-mated to cost $5,500. He added thatthis would not only benefit studentsbut would help parents overcometheir prejudice against boardingschools. Although it was requested byevery superintendent in the decadefollowing, a hospital was never built.22

Rodwell’s successor, Dr. A. H.Spears, spent one tumultuous year atVermilion. Dr. Otis O. Benson thenbecame superintendent in 1911 andstayed until 1916. Previouslyassigned to the boarding school onMinnesota’s White Earth Reserva-tion, Benson felt that his duty toIndian children went above and be-

yond academic and vocational educa-tion. According to his annual reports,he earnestly watched over his stu-dents’ moral and ethical develop-ment, stressing his own values ofsobriety and thrift. Benson becameinvolved in booster and chamber ofcommerce efforts in Tower and en-couraged the Tower school district toallow a few Vermilion graduates tocontinue their schooling in town.23

Benson’s relationship with Towerwould result in support from its citi-zens and politicians when the Ver-milion school encountered problemslater on.

Benson’s successor, Henry A.Edsall, outlined the pressing need forbuilding maintenance and repair in

his 1917 report. The next year, hesolicited the aid of the academicteaching staff. When the Vermilionschool closed temporarily during theinfluenza epidemic of 1918, Edsallrequested that teachers help withrepairs. When some declined, thesuperintendent persisted, creating ahostile climate. Edsall left in Decem-ber 1918.24

One reason that the governmentneglected the Vermilion school isthat it was being considered forabandonment. Nett Lake was—andstill is—the larger of the two BoisForte districts, and in some years itsday school served more Bois Fortestudents than Vermilion did. Nett

School picnic, about 1915. Among the seated staff (beginning second from left) are Mrs. Angus,

Maggie Barney, Mrs. Wetenhall, and Mr. Wetenhall; John Anderson stands at right.

Winter 2002–03 233

Lake, in fact, lobbied unsuccessfullyto have its day school become aboarding school to replace Vermil-ion. One Vermilion superintendentwrote that the only reason the schoolremained open was that studentsand staff made repairs—albeit withlimited skills and materials—so thatthe cost to maintain Vermilion wasnearly nothing. As the facilities dete-riorated, the price of repairs, main-tenance, and new construction in-creased from Rodwell’s estimate of$5,500 for a hospital in 1910 to Ed-sall’s request of $53,350 for manyprojects in 1917. Not included werethe superintendents’ estimated costof a much needed road connectingthe reservation with the main road

into Tower: $12,000 in 1918 and1919, of which Tower and St. LouisCounty would pay half.25

Superintendents also repeatedlybegged for improvements such asnew lavatories to replace the “de-plorable” ones in the dormitories; acentral-heating plant; playgroundequipment; single beds instead ofdouble for the students, to curtail thespread of contagious diseases; and aseptic system so that the school’s rawsewage would not empty into thelake. Unsanitary conditionscontributed to parents’ fears thattheir children would take sick anddie while at school, and students did,indeed, continue to suffer from tra-choma, tuberculosis, pneumonia,

and other diseases common at In-dian boarding schools. From 1909 to1917 each superintendent’s annualreport listed between one and fourdeaths from communicable diseases,a lack of medical care and resources,or accidents. Outbreaks of measles in1913 and 1915 left the school quaran-tined for weeks, and typhoid andscarlet fever resulted in quarantinesin 1914. Mrs. Riegert stayed at schoolwith sick students during thesetimes, once nursing her nephew, whodied of black diphtheria contractedat school. When the worldwide influ-enza pandemic of 1918 reached Ver-milion, resulting in the deaths ofseveral schoolchildren and severalIndian adults living nearby, the

Staff of Vermilion Lake Indian School, 1910s (from left): Mr. Hughes (engineer), Miss Corey, Mr. Dawson (farmer),

Mr. Tobey (behind Dawson), John Anderson, Mary Riegert (cook/matron), Mrs. Holiday (seamstress), Peter

Wetenhall (disciplinarian), Mrs. Hughes, Maggie Benson (employee Maggie Barney married the superintendent),

Otis Benson (superintendent), Mrs. Wetenhall, and an unknown woman.

234 Minnesota History

school was closed from October 12through December 10. Because fund-ing was based upon class days andstudent hours, school was extendedinto the summer of 1919 to make upfor time lost.26

Even during Vermilion LakeIndian School’s most successful yearsit, like other boarding schools, didnot offer an education comparablein curriculum or quality to that ofmajority-culture public schools.In the end, the system failed twice:Indian people, determined to main-tain family ties and cultural identity,did not assimilate, and the systemcreated generations of poorly edu-cated students who had learned todistrust it. The time and effort spentforcing Indians to learn the ways ofthe majority culture cut into timeallotted to academics and vocationaltraining. Only basic reading, writing,and arithmetic were taught at theVermilion school—with emphasis on“develop[ing] the Indian youth intogood, industrious, and sober citizens”and “no attempt . . . to introduce anyof the so-called ‘frills’ of education,”according to Superintendent Benson.Certainly the parents of Vermilionstudents wanted their children to begood, industrious, and sober, alongwith other Ojibwe values. At home,children were reared, in addition, tobe respectful, cooperative, mindful ofthe group, modest, kind, considerate,and honest. Years later a Vermilionstudent said, “I liked my lessons andit was a disappointment to me thatwe spent so little time on them. Wewere kept busy working, which didn’tleave as much time for school as wewould have liked. When I went toTower school I was quite a bit behindthe other students my age.”27

The “outing system” developedat Carlisle was seldom used at the

Vermilion school. Theoretically, stu-dents in outing programs gainedexposure to life in American society.Girls were often sent to families asmothers’ helpers, boys to farmers ortradesmen. Some worked all or partof the day and spent nights at school,while others’ placements requiredliving away from school. Studentswere sometimes paid, but the moneywent to the school, which distributedfunds as it saw fit to students whopetitioned for clothing, fare to travelhome for the summer, or other needs.Transportation logistics made outingfrom the Vermilion school difficult,however, and in 1914, when GeorgeLeGarde lost a finger while “workingout” in a brickyard, SuperintendentBenson reported that the programwas more trouble than it was worth.His accident report stated that therewas plenty of work to be done rightat the school, and outing appears tohave ceased.28

Schoolwork sometimes lackedcontinuity at Vermilion because ofteacher turnover, a problem at manyIndian boarding schools. In addition,Vermilion experienced difficulty find-ing teachers qualified in industrialand vocational training—particularlycarpentry and farming—who wouldrelocate to a remote place and workwith Indian children. The physicalcondition of the buildings hamperededucation, too. For example, duringthe 1914–15 school year, the eveningstudy hour had to be canceled whenthe gas lighting failed. The facultysubstituted “leisure-time” classes inlace making, fancywork, and agricul-ture, which were done by candlelightin small groups. Students and adultsalike enjoyed the social interaction,and these activities continued whenthe gaslights were repaired.29

The first students to completestudies at Vermilion, or “run out of

grades” and look for classes beyondits approximate fourth-grade cur-riculum, were Wilbur and AmeliaRiegert, Peter Holden (superinten-dent-to-be Rodwell’s nephew—Rodwell was married to an Indianwoman), and Louisa Blue Sky. In1905 the four walked across LakeVermilion through the winter toattend school in Tower, once gettinglost in a blizzard.30

Beginning with these four, stu-dents graduated from Vermilionevery year. The number peaked at16 in 1919. Promising students wereencouraged to further their educa-tion at Haskell Institute or otheroff-reservation Indian vocationalschools. However, many chose toreturn home, an indication that theassimilation policy had failed. Somegraduates asked to stay at Vermilionfor further training or employmentas laborers, cooks’ helpers, or dormi-tory helpers. A few attended theTower school, which in 1910 beganreceiving a subsidy of 15 cents perday from the Office of Indian Affairsto defray the costs of educating stu-dents from outside the district. Mostpupils, however, did not graduatebut simply became too old to attend.Their formal education ended withtheir Vermilion school experience,whether they graduated or not.Some stayed at the school, continu-ing to go to classes and work oddjobs because they had nowhere elseto go. All students had to be listed onsuperintendents’ reports, and theIndian office regularly directed thatthose children be transferred to an-other school or sent home.31

In August 1919, at the end ofthe Vermilion school’s most stableand successful decade, the annualmaintenance appropriation forChippewa (Ojibwe) schools and

Winter 2002–03 235

Vermilion Lake employees (from left): Wilbur Riegert,

Maggie Barney, and John Anderson

agencies in Minnesota was greatlyreduced, and the Commissioner ofIndian Affairs ordered the schoolclosed. This came as a surprise to thestudents, staff, the town of Tower,and especially Superintendent C. E.Dennis. Hired in December 1918after the influenza epidemic, he hadworked to rebuild the staff, improvemorale, and get students caught upwith their studies. He reported asuccessful year and had cultivated afriendly relationship with the TowerCommercial Club.32

Dennis was told to close theschool immediately and move to theKlamath Indian Agency in Oregon.Two long-time staff members weretransferred to other schools: Mrs.Riegert, matron, to Yankton, SouthDakota, and Miss Jacker, seamstressand sewing teacher, to CheyenneRiver, South Dakota. Livestock was tobe sold and any harvest distributed.33

Dennis immediately informed theTower Weekly News and asked theTower Commercial Club for help. Itspresident, G. C. Carlson, and secre-

tary, Herman T. Olson, immediatelyurged Senators Knute Nelson andFrank B. Kellogg and CongressmanWilliam L. Carss to keep the schoolopen, stressing the importance ofon-reservation education to the Ver-milion Lake community. Carss andNelson supported this, while “nearlyall Indian families in the area” peti-tioned the Commissioner of IndianAffairs.34 In spite of these efforts,the school closed.

For the next two years, the Vermil-ion and Tower communities workedto reopen the school. “Over at theVermilion Lake Indian School thereare twenty-six little Indians runningat large with not even a remote possi-bility of an education. Red tape atWashington is depriving these chil-dren of an education. Were theywards of this district they would becared for as they have a right to be,”wrote the editor of the Tower WeeklyNews. “They are American childrenregardless of their color. They have aright to be treated right. . . . Minnesotais justly proud of its school system.A child without an education in ourgood state is a rarity. Let us interestourselves at once in behalf of thesechildren,” the editorial concluded.35

Rewarding the efforts of business-men, politicians, educators, and In-dian families, the government re-opened the Vermilion school in 1921,but the school never fully recovered.Few school records exist from the1920s, but older people in the Ver-milion and Tower area remembervacant buildings and small numbersof children, most from the immedi-ate vicinity. Some buildings in poorcondition were torn down. At leastone burned. Because overland trans-portation had improved, more of theolder children attended public schoolin Tower. The per-capita subsidyfrom the Indian bureau continued,

236 Minnesota History

making it feasible for the Towerschool to accommodate more stu-dents from the reservation. Vermil-ion Lake Indian School was becom-ing an on-reservation day school,serving fewer children in lower gradesand acting as a “feeder” to the publicschool, much like the school at NettLake. This development reflected anational trend. By 1928 about halfof all Indian children who attendedschool were in public schools.36

Superintendent Rodwell’s 1910 wishwas coming true.

By the late 1920s, it was clearthat federal Indian policy neededreform, and a movement led by JohnCollier, a publisher and executivesecretary of the American IndianDefense Association, took shape.In 1928, a survey team headed byLewis B. Meriam of the Universityof Chicago completed The Problem ofIndian Administration, a two-year

study commissioned by the Depart-ment of the Interior. This “MeriamReport,” a critical analysis of theIndian bureau, stressed the need foreducation in a “natural setting ofhome and family life,” better teachers,and a better curriculum that incorpo-rated cultural values and vocationaltraining suitable to the job market—not to maintenance of school facili-ties. It promoted day schools andrecommended that pre-adolescentchildren not be sent to boardingschools. The Meriam Report con-cluded that the primary task of Indianeducation was to provide children andparents with the skills to succeed asindependent citizens in both Indianand white cultures. It acknowledgedthe failure of assimilation policy andlaunched a “New Deal” in Indianeducation.37

More changes came when the1934 Johnson-O’Malley Act providedthat public-school districts would

receive federal money to educateIndian children. Although the Officeof Indian Affairs had been sendingsubsidies to some public schools for40 years, contracting would now bedone on a federal-state basis, withthe states disbursing funds to indi-vidual school districts. The possibil-ity of new or increased funding mademany districts eager to serve largernumbers of Indian students, andsome used the money to pay salariesor to construct or improve buildingswith the justification that all stu-dents—including Indians—wouldbenefit.38

Although the Johnson-O’MalleyAct had a positive and profoundeffect on Indian students that contin-ues today, Vermilion Lake IndianSchool did not benefit greatly. It didreceive “JOM” money but, since thenumber of students had dwindled to34 by 1936, this was not a large sourceof revenue. O. R. Sande, Minnesota’s

Public school in the still-unpaved town of Tower, postcard, about 1910

Winter 2002–03 237

director of Indian education, calcu-lated that “if the contribution fromthe Indian Office were consideredtuition, the rate would be 42.7 centsper pupil per day of attendance.”39

By 1940 Vermilion Lake IndianSchool served between 25 and 30students from the immediate areaand employed two teachers and onepart-time cook. Most of the largerbuildings and some of the employeecottages had been torn down. Theold laundry building had been con-verted to an all-purpose school build-ing, with two classrooms on thelower floor and a lunchroom, apart-ment, and “shop” classroom on theupper. The curriculum, now compa-rable to Tower’s, emphasized acade-mic subjects more than vocationaltraining. The primary-grades teacher(through grade 3), who also taughtsewing to the girls, commuted dailyfrom Tower; by this time there was adirt road into the reservation. Sheregularly visited with families in thearea and learned “quite a vocabulary”in Ojibwe from her students. Theupper-grades teacher (4 through 6),who also taught shop class to theboys, lived in the upper-floor apart-ment all year. He was active in com-munity life on the reservation, keptan extensive garden, and enthusiasti-cally assisted the students and theirfamilies with gardening projects. Thecook, a woman from the reservation,worked mornings preparing a bal-anced meal. Each week studentswere chosen to assist in peeling veg-etables, fetching water, starting thefire in the wood stove, and washingthe dishes, tables, and floor aftereach meal. The school had no run-ning water or indoor plumbing—theshort-lived septic system having longsince failed—and, as a result, therewas particular emphasis on hygiene.

The county health nurse visited regu-larly. Floors and towels were washedwith bleach and rubbing alcohol wasused to disinfect hands.40

Both teachers stayed for severalyears, and when the primary-gradesteacher left, she went to the Towerschool, working with some of thesame students and families fromVermilion until her retirement. Shedescribed teaching at Vermilion asan enjoyable experience, a learningexperience. In addition to her Ojibwevocabulary, she supplemented hereducation with Indian studies coursesfrom the University of Minnesota.41

This contrasted greatly with the ear-lier Indian education policies of sup-pressing native language and culture.The teacher was now also the learner,the students now also the teachers.

In 1945 the Vermilion school-house was remodeled. The exteriorwas painted, the classrooms, apart-ment, and lunchroom redecorated,and an oil-burning heater installed.Maps, globes, a set of encyclopedias,and new texts and library books werepurchased. However, enrollmentkept shrinking. In 1946 daily atten-dance averaged 19 of the 24 pupilsenrolled—all day students from the

Vermilion Lake school building, about 1940, when enrollment

totaled no more than 30 day students

238 Minnesota History

Bois Forte children of the Vermilion Lake district, about 1915

area. Beginning that year, Minne-sota’s director and supervisor ofIndian education recommended intheir annual report to the Office ofIndian Affairs that the school beclosed and the students transportedto Tower, where they could be given“the opportunity to attend a moderngraded elementary and high school.”42

In 1952 the state’s Indian educa-tion department reported that eightsmall reservation schools—but notVermilion Lake—had been closed“during the past few years” becausethey were expensive to staff andmaintain and it cost less to transportstudents to nearby towns. Since the1940s, Minnesota had made “everyeffort. . . . to eliminate the small seg-regated (mostly Indians enrolled)schools,” a report assured the Officeof Indian Affairs, citing “inferioreducation,” the failure of pupils totransfer successfully to secondarypublic schools, and the improvededucational opportunities at consoli-dated schools. Since the number ofpupils attending Vermilion haddropped to between 12 and 15 annu-ally by the early 1950s, its closingwas only a matter of time.43

In 1953 Congress passed HouseConcurrent Resolution 108 to “free”Indians of “segregation.” This new“termination” policy dictated thattribes were to disband and Indianpeople were to be encouraged toleave their reservations (and familiesand communities, an echo of earlierassimilation policies) and live incities. The tribes would eventuallylose federal recognition and, ulti-mately, federal aid, including fund-ing for Indian education. Introducedin phases, termination policy was ineffect until 1958. Nationally, 61 tribeswere terminated, but the MinnesotaChippewa Tribe remained intact.Nevertheless, this policy helped

and families. Close by is a gymna-sium and, where the dormitory stood,a community center with medicaland dental facilities and a nutritionprogram for elders. There is a play-ground, a baseball field, and pow-wow grounds. The sidewalk thatpassed the school buildings is nowsurrounded by tall grass. It runs bythe community center and ends at anempty field. The ruins of the sturdycow barn—Superintendent Edsallonce said that it housed the animalsmore comfortably than the dormi-tory did children46—stand as a com-munity landmark across a nowsmoothly blacktopped road. Fromthe ruins, the “farm road” leads to anew housing development on the sitewhere hundreds of schoolchildrenonce worked long hours in the fields.A short distance away is the FortuneBay Resort and Casino, built and runby the Bois Forte Band, which hasmade possible many of the recentimprovements on the reservation.And next to the casino is the BoisForte Museum and History Center

erode political and cultural identityamong all American Indian people,including those of the VermilionLake district.44

In 1954 the Bureau of Indian Af-fairs ordered the Vermilion schoolclosed “in line with the policy of de-segregation of Indian pupils.” There isno record of efforts to keep the schoolopen. That fall, Vermilion Lake stu-dents were transported to the consoli-dated elementary school in Soudan, afew miles from Tower. Usable books,furniture, and shop equipment weretaken to Tower, and the Vermilionschool building was eventually torndown. Some of the employee cottageswere sold to individuals in Tower,who moved the buildings to town.The school lands became the propertyof the reservation.45

Today, the Vermilion Lakereservation uses the school site forcommunity services and activities.Where the laundry-turned-schoolonce stood is a beautiful Head Startbuilding with facilities for children

Winter 2002–03 239

that opened in 2002, a lovely build-ing in a wooded setting. Honoringand preserving the past, it educatesvisitors about the Bois Forte people,their long migration here, their starkand beautiful means of survivalbased on the traditional teachings oftheir ancestors’ ancestors, and thestory of the Vermilion Lake IndianSchool. The faces at the museum’s

grand opening contrasted, blended,and matched the faces in the multi-generational photo display, faces ofthose who walked before us andthose who watched that day.

Not far from the museum, hiddenon a spot where nothing has beenbuilt or disturbed for years, is a small,overgrown area where Vermilionpeople honor and respect the un-

marked graves of the children whodied at school. They rest in the shelterof the wilds of Sucker Point. On win-ter days and nights, snow covers thisplace and comforts memories with awhite quiet that is heavy and gentle.Summer days and nights, smallbreezes sing soft green whisperingsongs that caress those sleeping chil-dren. Abinoojiiyag nibaawag.47 a

NotesWe descendents of boarding-school childrenthank them and also those who did notsurvive the experience for their courage,which made it possible for us to live asIndian people today.

1. Marvin G. Lamppa, “The VermilionLake People: Vermilion Lake Bois ForteHistory Project,” Iron Range ResearchCenter archives, Chisholm, MN.2. David H. DeJong, Promises of the

Past: A History of Indian Education in theUnited States (Golden, CO: North Ameri-can Press, 1993), 3–21, 107.3. Jeffrey Hamley, “An Introduction to

the Federal Indian Boarding School Move-ment,” North Dakota History 61 (Spring1994): 2–3; Robert M. Utley, introductionto From Battlefield to Classroom: FourDecades with the American Indian, byRichard Henry Pratt (New Haven: YaleUniversity Press, 1964), xii–xiii, quote, 335;Brenda J. Child, Boarding School Seasons:American Indian Families, 1900–1940(Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press,1998), 13.4. Newton H. Winchell, The Aborigines

of Minnesota (St. Paul: Minnesota Histori-cal Society, 1911), 676, 682–83; Mitchell E.Rubinstein and Alan R. Woolworth, “TheDakota and Ojibway,” in They Chose Minne-sota: A Survey of the State’s Ethnic Groups,ed. June D. Holmquist (St. Paul: MinnesotaHistorical Society Press, 1981), 29–30;Vermilion Iron Journal, Feb. 25, 1897, p. 1.Minnesota boarding schools operating in1892 were: Leech Lake (opened in 1867),White Earth (1871), Red Lake (1877), PinePoint (1892), and Wild Rice River (1892).5. C. Larrebee letter, Sept. 19, 1905, in

Letters Received, Vermilion Lake IndianSchool, Consolidated Chippewa Agency Re-cords, U.S. Bureau of Indian Affairs, RecordGroup 75, National Archives and RecordsAdministration, Central Plains Region,Kansas City, MO. (hereinafter cited as RG75, Kansas City); Winchell, Aborigines, 676;Thomas F. Rodwell, Annual Report, 1910,

p. 3, in Superintendents’ Annual Narrativeand Statistical Reports from Field Jurisdic-tions of the Bureau of Indian Affairs,1907–38, National Archives and RecordsAdministration Microcopy M1011, roll 161,copy in Minnesota Historical Society Library(MHS), St. Paul (hereinafter cited as AnnualReport).6. Otis O. Benson, Annual Report,

1916, p. 1.7. H. A. Edsall, Annual Report, 1917, p. 3.8. Benson, Annual Report, 1912, p. 1, 3;

1914, p. 1; Oliver H. Gates to Samuel W.Campbell, 1902, in Great Lakes Consoli-dated Agency Records, 1869–1950, U.S.Bureau of Indian Affairs, National Archivesand Records Administration microfilm, copyin University of Wisconsin, River Falls,archives.9. Child, Boarding School Seasons, 13,

56; Gates to Campbell, 1902; Wilbur A.Riegert, Quest for the Pipe of the Sioux, asViewed fromWounded Knee (Rapid City,SD: J. M. Fritze, 1975), 25.10. Ellen Monroe, interview by author,

Hibbing, Oct. 1992; Rodwell, Annual Re-port, 1910, p. 6, and subsequent superinten-dents’ reports.11. David W. Adams, Education for Ex-

tinction: American Indians and the Board-ing School Experience, 1875–1928 (Law-rence: University Press of Kansas, 1995),210–15. Staff names are from identifiedphotographs in the privately held MaryAnderson collection.12. For further education, some of

Riegert’s younger relatives went to thePipestone Indian School in southwesternMinnesota, Chilocco Indian School inOklahoma, Haskell, and to the Tower pub-lic school. Riegert, Quest for the Pipe, 13–14.13. K. Tsianina Lomawaima, They Called

It Prairie Light: The Story of the ChiloccoIndian School (Lincoln: University of Ne-braska Press, 1994), xi–xiii, 3–6.14. Rodwell, Annual Report, 1910, p. 13.15. Luther Standing Bear, Land of the

Spotted Eagle (1933; reprint, Lincoln:

University of Nebraska Press, 1978), 15–18;Child, Boarding School Seasons, 28–31, 97.See also, Adams, Education for Extinction,276–83.16. Child, Boarding School Seasons, 13;

Rodwell, Annual Report, 1910, p. 6; Ben-son, Annual Report, 1912, p. 1; Lamppa,“Vermilion Lake People.”17. Lamppa, “Vermilion Lake People”;

Student Records, Vermilion Lake IndianSchool, RG 75, Kansas City; “Anishinabe,”in Northern Lights: A Cultural Sampler, ed.Patrick Parks (Ely: Ely Public Schools,1991), n. p.18. Rodwell, Annual Report, 1910, p. 4–5.19. Superintendents’ Annual Reports,

1910–16, especially Benson, 1912, p. 3; 1914,p. 1.20. Superintendents’ Annual Reports,

1910–19.21. Rodwell, Annual Report, 1910, p. 3,

11–12.22. Rodwell, Annual Report, 1910, p.

8–9, 12. See also Superintendents’ AnnualReports, 1911–17. Trachoma and tuberculo-sis were major, recurring problems at allIndian boarding schools; see Adams, Edu-cation for Extinction, 131–35.23. Benson, Annual Reports, 1912–16.24. Edsall, Annual Report, 1917, p. 2–4;

[C. E. Dennis], Annual Report, 1919, p. 4, 6.25. Benson, Annual Report, 1916, p. 1, 2;

Edsall, Annual Report, 1918, p. 2; [Dennis],Annual Report, 1919, p. 1.26. Superintendents’ Annual Reports,

1910–18, especially Edsall, 1917, p. 2–3, and[Dennis], 1919, p. 4; Riegert, Quest for thePipe, 25. Mrs. Riegert experienced an Indianmother’s worst fear when her teenage sonwas permanently injured at Haskell. Hisinjury left him paraplegic, and he worked atthe Vermilion school for a short time aftercompleting his studies at Haskell; StudentRecords, Vermilion Lake Indian School,RG 75, Kansas City.27. Adams, Education for Extinction, 315;

Superintendents’ Annual Reports, 1910–19,quote from Benson, 1913, p. 20; Child,

240 Minnesota History

Boarding School Seasons, 28, 97; Lamppa,“Vermilion Lake People.”28. Utley, From Battlefield to Classroom,

xiii–xiv; Adams, Education for Extinction,156–57. In his 1910 report, Rodwell men-tioned “trying” one student in the outingprogram; see p. 2. Information on theLeGarde accident is from LeGarde familyoral history.29. Adams, Education for Extinction,

87; Benson, Annual Report, 1915, p. 1.30. Reigert, Quest for the Pipe, 13–14.31. Superintendents’ Annual Reports,

1910–19; on 16 graduates, see [Dennis],1919, p. 4; F. H. Abbott to Benson, 1912,Letters Received, Vermilion Lake IndianSchool, RG 75, Kansas City.32. [Dennis], Annual Report, 1919, p.

4–5, 7; TowerWeekly News, Aug. 1, 1919, p. 1.33. Tower Weekly News, Aug. 8, 1919,

p. 1, Sept. 12, 1919, p. 1.34. Tower Weekly News, Aug. 1, 1919, p. 1;

Letters Received, Vermilion Lake IndianSchool, 1919, 1920, 1921, RG 75, Kansas City.35. Tower Weekly News,Oct. 1, 1920, p. 3.36. Letters Received, Vermilion Lake

Indian School, 1919, 1920, 1921, RG 75,Kansas City; State of Minnesota, Indian

39. O. R. Sande and R. H. Larson, An-nual Report to the Office of Indian Affairsfrom the Director and Supervisor of IndianEducation for the State of Minnesota,1937–38, p. 7, 12, in Education Dept., In-dian Education Section, Minnesota StateArchives, MHS. Minnesota first contractedfor JOMmoney in 1936; Annual Report . . .of Indian Education, 1949–50, p. 15.40. Lamppa, “Vermilion Lake People.”41. Former teacher, interview by author,

1989.42. Annual Report . . . of Indian Educa-

tion, 1946, p. 4, 1947, p. 18.43. Annual Report . . . of Indian Educa-

tion, 1950–51, p. 4, 1951–52, p. 4, 21,1952–53, p. 4, 16, 1953–54, p. 10. Theschools were: Horack and Beaulieu inMahnomen Co.; Jackson, Itasca Co.; Mis-sion, Beltrami Co.; Goat Ranch, Becker Co.;Nett Lake (grades 7–8), Koochiching Co.;and Onigum, Cass Co.44. Philp, Indian Self-Rule, 174–85.45. Annual Report . . . of Indian Educa-

tion, 1954–55, p. 30.46. Edsall, Annual Report, 1917, p. 3.47. This Ojibwe phrase translates: “The

children sleep.”

Scholarship Office Records, 1954, Dept. ofChildren, Families, and Learning, St. Paul;Edward H. Spicer, A Short History of theIndians of the United States (New York:Van Nostrand Reinhold, 1969), 116–18.37. Lewis B. Meriam et al., The Problem of

Indian Administration, Institute for Govern-ment Research Studies in Administration,no. 17 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UniversityPress, 1928); see www.alaskool.org/native_ed/research_reports/IndianAdmin/Indian_Admin_Problms.html.Meriam’s1928 essay, “The Effects of BoardingSchools on Indian Family Life,” is reprintedin The Destruction of American IndianFamilies, ed. Steven Unger (New York:Association on American Indian Affairs,1977), 14–17.President Franklin D. Roosevelt ap-

pointed Collier commissioner of Indianaffairs in 1933; he served through 1945.Kenneth R. Philp, ed., Indian Self-Rule:First-Hand Accounts of Indian-WhiteRelations from Roosevelt to Reagan (Logan:Utah State University Press, 1995), 125,139, 247–48.38. Philp, Indian Self-Rule, 125, 139,

247–48.

The photograph on p. 224 is courtesy the author; those on p. 226, 227, 231, 232, 236, 237, and 238 are

fromMHS collections; p. 228, 229 (right), 230, 233, 235, and 240 are courtesy the Mary Anderson

collection; p. 229 (left) is courtesy the Fond du Lac Education Division.

Patriotic gathering, probably during World War I, of teachers and Indian staff

including Mary Riegert (standing, holding white paper) and Jim Boshey (center).

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