This is a blog about music, photography, history, and culture.
These are photographs from my collection that tell a story about lost time and forgotten music.

Mike Brubaker
{ Click on the image to expand the photo }

The Big Brass Return

08 November 2025


Back in the olden days,
let's call that anytime prior to our own memory,
folks had decidedly fewer things to brag about
than they do in our 21st century.
 





A man might strut about in a new hat or coat;
show off a new pocket watch or custom carriage;
or brag about a fancy necklace he bought for his wife.
But in those olden times men just didn't have  
very many luxury items to choose from. 






Yet in the mid-19th century some fellows
chose to pose for their portrait leaning on
a very large, shiny brass contraption
twisted into a complicated form
with valves and slides.






These were not ordinary pictures
for friends and family.

They wanted us to pay attention.
This was a musician in charge
of the foundational notes in music.
The Big Brass. 



Today I present four portraits 
of gentlemen who posed with their pride and joy,

a Bass Saxhorn.








My first musician is a young man who proudly posed with his over-the-shoulder E-flat bass saxhorn. The image was developed on a dark metal tintype or ferrotype photograph, roughly 2¼ by 3¾ inches. The little tintype plate is inserted into the camera and captures the light onto a special emulsion that the photographer has painted on the thin sheet metal. It records a positive mirror image instead of a negative image like on film. Consequently his face and saxhorn are reversed from a true likeness. 



This is clear when you look at his cap which has reversed letters. When I "flip" the image using digital software we can see how the instrument, now properly oriented, was played balanced on the left shoulder with the right hand on the valve keys. The letters on his cap now read C. C. BAND. The tintype process produces a unique single photo that was not reproducible at the time. It was popular in America from from around 1859 to 1880. The simplicity of the background on this young man's photo suggests it was a quick novelty photo, maybe taken outdoors or in a tent by a photographer working a fair or amusement park where this man's band was performing. 




1868 catalog of the Isaac Fiske Brass Instrument Company
of Worchester, Massachusetts  



Over-the-shoulder saxhorns were a brass instrument family that became popular in America bands  in the years before the Civil War of 1861-1865. The design originated in Paris in 1845 with a patent by Adolphe Sax who wanted to create a set of conical brass instruments which would cover a full range of sound from sopranino to contrabass. His original patent was for saxhorns with upright bells but the plumbing design cleverly allowed for different configurations. In America the saxhorn bell was arranged to rest on the player's left shoulder with the bell pointing backwards. Since a band usually marched at the head of a parade, this rear-facing bell aimed the music back toward the marching soldiers, thereby keeping everyone in military step. 

The bass saxhorns were especially popular because previously there had been no brass instruments capable of producing low bass tones LOUDLY. The slide trombone in this era had a narrow cylindrical bore and did not have as dominant a voice as it would later have in modern times. It was also difficult to play in tune, given the infinite positions of the slide. But saxhorn's conical bore gave it a greater dynamic range and its valve action let it play in tune over a full chromatic scale. Adolphe Sax's best known invention, of course, was the saxophone which is also made of brass and comes in a variety of sizes. 


1869 catalog of the Boston Musical Instrument Manufactory 

In the 1860s saxhorns were produced by a number of American band instrument companies who marketed them as a ready-made set in seven sizes beginning with the smaller soprano voiced E-flat and B-flat cornets and then expanding to alto, tenor, baritone, bass, and contrabass saxhorns. Manufacturers also offered the same set in an optional design with the bell pointing upwards. In 1868 an Isaac Fiske E-flat bass in brass would cost $130. Made with German Silver, a shiny nickel plate finish, added $20 to the price.  According to the website calculator at www.in2013dollars.com that $130 bass saxhorn in 1867 would now cost around $2,846 in 2025.    
 




My second bass saxhorn player is pictured with his instrument on a carte de visite, a photo made by an albumen print from a collodion negative. Mounted on cardstock it is about 4½ x 2½ inches, roughly the same size as the tintype but lacking some of its clarity. First introduced in the late 1850s, the carte de visite, or cdv, was contemporary with the tintype but it overtook the tintype in popularity because its process allowed for multiple copies from an original negative. Most photographers offered a dozen prints for $1.00.   

Dressed in a bandsman's uniform this man rests his elbow on top his saxhorn's bell. His long uniform coat, epaulet bars, and kepi hat are similar to the uniform of a Union army regimental band. Unfortunately the cdv has no imprint on the back for the photographer, so the bandsman's location could be anywhere. But his cap does have letters above the brim. The focus is not very clear but I think it reads: WA & ** 58 I.  The WA would stand for Washington D.C. but it might be MA for Massachusetts instead. I think this photo dates from the Civil War years mainly because his uniform is very simple. After the war ended uniforms became very elaborate with lots of ornamental braid and fancy shako hats with feather plumes. 

 





Band of 107th U.S. Colored Infantry
Source: Library of Congress

A military band in the 1860s was largely just a brass band with drums. Generally woodwind instruments were not used though a few bands included a single E-flat clarinet or piccolo to play high treble melodies. In this photo from the Library of Congress archives, the Band of 107th U.S. Colored Infantry stands at attention outside the band's barracks. It was taken during the Civil War. The band of 18 musicians has a full set of over-the-shoulder brass instruments from cornets on the left to basses on the right. The bandleader stands on the left with a front-facing cornet. A band like this would typically perform concerts standing in a circle around their leader with all their instrument bells facing outward like the spokes of a wagon wheel. This amplified the band's sound and allowed their music to be heard all over an army's encampment.






My next bass saxhorn player is not dressed as a military bandsman but is clearly a dapper young civilian with his feet casually crossed and with, again, an elbow resting on his saxhorn's bell. This is another unmarked cdv so it is impossible to identify his location. But I think the round corners of the cardstock dates it to after the war, maybe 1870s. Notice the ribbon on his lapel. A prize for a band competition? Maybe a souvenir of a fraternal convention? 



Unknown Union regimental band
from Dowagiac, Michigan
Source: Library of Congress


In this albumen photo from the Library of Congress archives we see a Union regimental brass band from Dowagiac, Michigan. There are twelve men posed with a set of ten over-the-shoulder saxhorns and a pair of drums. They appear to be in a photographer's studio, but I suspect this was taken outdoors. Most of the brass instruments of this era used rotary valves, a German invention, rather than French piston valves. Like any technology in the early industrial age, musical instrument companies were constantly seeking to improve designs and boost sales of their instruments. The rotary valves in the 1860s were not as reliable and had a slower action than piston valves, so by the 1880s American musicians no longer favored over-the-shoulder saxhorns and instead switched to piston valve cornets, euphoniums, helicons, and tubas. 




My last saxhorn player is also in civilian dress with a velvet collar suit coat and satin vest. He upends the standard saxhorn pose to have his instrument resting on its bell. I believe it is the smaller B-flat bass. His chinstrap beard gives him a very patrician air, not a farmer but a businessman, I think. He is also posed in a kind of improvised studio with a linoleum floor and a simple fabric backdrop. 

Surprisingly, he is one of the few musicians in my collection of saxhorn players that has a name. On the back of this cdv is written Samuel Miller and there is an imprint for the photographer, too. "Photographed by Geo. W. Wilcox, Travelling Photographer". Unfortunately both names are too common and not enough to identify where or when this photo was taken. My best guess is sometime in the 1870s and somewhere in Pennsylvania, which was known to have a lot of itinerant photographers and Quaker chin beards.






These men chose to include their saxhorn in their portrait for a reason. It was not a photographer's prop. They wanted to project an image of personal pride and of musical accomplishment. In a way the saxhorn could be a tool signifying their occupation as a musician or a symbol of their musical avocation. But in the mid-19th century a big shiny saxhorn was also something to show off and brag about. Look at me. Listen to my voice. I play the BIG BRASS.  




Here is great video of Tanner Morgan,
band director of Edmond Memorial High School, in Edmond, Oklahoma, 
demonstrating his E-flat Over-the-Shoulder Bass Saxhorn.
His instrument has piston valves instead of the rotary valves seen in my photos.
His YouTube channel Musical Maintenance has more terrific videos 
of his school's Historical Brass Band. 







And here is a short 1955 film of
"Rally Round the Flag" by G.F. Root
played by "The Presidents Own" United States Marine Band
on authentic early instruments including a rank
of over-the-shoulder saxhorns.
Where they found these antique instruments is as big a puzzle
as some of the mysteries in my vintage photographs.
Maybe they borrowed them from the Smithsonian Museum?







For more photos and history 
of over-the-shoulder brass instruments
click these links to my other stories: 
The Big Brass






This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday
where bloggers around the globe
celebrate 800 weeks of inspiration!





Hats and Clarinets

01 November 2025

 

What makes me choose a photograph for my collection?
Usually it's due to the musical instruments.
Often it's on account of the era or decade.
Occasionally it's because I know who they are.
But sometimes it just comes down
to smiles and hats.

And every now and then I get lucky 
and find a beautiful photo,
a perfect portrait.

This is one of them. 



These two fellows, maybe father and son, were artfully arranged by a skilled photographer who understood side lighting. In this neatly crafted pose the younger man sits on a low rattan chair as his older partner leans over a bass drum. Their clarinets, bowler hats, and affable smiles attract immediate interest. The mustache and bouquet of roses are a bonus. It's a postcard print on AZO brand paper but the divided back is blank. The drum head has a wonderful musical lyre design with the name "Hartford City Band."   

Most of the musician portraits in my collection are images of people like this, whose names are unknown to me. Their photographs were taken long ago and the details of who, when, and where were not recorded on the print. Though sometimes there are clues that let me deduce a rough idea of time or place, more often than not the faces remain anonymous. According to Wikipedia there are 22 towns and cities in the United States named Hartford. And bowler hats were pretty popular for several decades. The best I can do is guess: two bandsmen in nice suits somewhere in America around 1906-1928.

Of course the two men in the photo knew who they were and why they posed for a camera. Investing time and money for a proper professional portrait was once, and still is, an occasion to look your best since the main purpose of a photo is to share it with friends and family. And for musicians it's an opportunity to show off their instrument and get a memento of a special concert.  

The reason I collect these photos is naturally because of their musical theme. But not every musician's portrait makes the cut. Antique photos of clarinet players are as common as pigeons in the park. So for me to add a picture of two clarinetists to my archive it has to be special. This photo hit all the marks. We don't need to know their names to see two good friends proud of their music. Their expressions make us genuinely happy to make their acquaintance. If they were selling tickets to a concert of the Hartford City Band we'd buy six, please.





Though these two clarinetists must remain forever silent
 we can still imagine what music they might have played.
Here is an arrangement for two clarinets
of the famous Flower Duet 
from Léo Delibes' tragic opera Lakmé.
It is beautifully played by
Jose Franch-Ballester and Bernardino Assunçao, clarinets.

They produced this in 2020 as part
of a series of videos made during covid isolation.









This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday
where every photo has a story.



 
 

Paper Airplanes, part 3

25 October 2025

 
It's useful to have a good friend
join you when taking a trip.






A buddy riding shotgun
helps with navigating
through unfamiliar places.






And, of course, conversation with a companion
breaks up the monotony of a long journey. 






And when in heavy traffic
a second pair of eyes
reduces the chances of a nasty accident.




Today I feature four photos of good pals 
who once bravely took to the air
undeterred by the rickety framework
of their aircraft.






My first intrepid duo sit just aft of the wing of a monoplane, apparently balanced by the little inline motor at the front. There is no propellor but I suppose that is because it is spinning too fast for the camera. A sizeable crowd of people are lined up on the airfield below them. The landing gear with its shopping cart wheels does not inspire confidence. But maybe the airplane never flew very fast.

 This postcard was mailed in France to a young woman in Rennes, the capital city of Brittany. Though the postmark is unclear the sender helpfully wrote a date of 4-10-1910 above their message. 



4-10-1910 
Voulant profiter du beau
temps ce nouvel aviateur
a pris  la voie dis airs pour
venir dire mille chosis aima.
bles anx amis de Rennes
De plus les amities du
tant la famille.
~
Wanting to take advantage
of the good weather,
this new aviator took
to the skies to say a thousand
kind things to his friends in Rennes.
Furthermore, to the friendships
of both the family.

The Wright brothers first demonstrated their Wright Flyer on 8 August 1908 at a horseracing course near Le Mans. In the following two years other aviation inventors had demonstrated their flying machines. So in 1910 when the "nouvel aviateur" (I think it is the younger man riding behind the pilot at the front) had a faux photo made of himself and his older companion, the idea of flight in a powered machine had clearly taken hold of the French public's imagination. However, due to the popularity of novelty photo postcards, I think it likely that most people then had seen more pretend aviators than real ones. 

In the case of this postcard the aeroplane was imitating one developed by a celebrated Frenchman, Louis Blériot (1872–1936) one of the great pioneers of aviation. He is credited with designing the first successful single-wing monoplane which he flew across the English Channel on 25 July 1909. Here is a video of a replica of the famous Blériot XI, built and flown by Mikael Carlson at the 2019 Hahnweide Oldtimer Fliegertreffen, a major aviation event that brings together enthusiasts of historic aircraft at the Hahnweide airfield near Kirchheim unter Teck in Germany. This airplane is powered with an original 7-cylinder Gnôme-Omega rotary, 50 hp engine. 






* * *




This second paper airplane photo shows two gallant German army officers in a biplane not unlike the Wright brothers machine, though with questionable construction. They seem to be lost among the clouds with two other aeroplanes, a similar biplane and a monoplane. So it's a good thing one officer has a map and can point out the direction they need to go.

The postcard was sent on 19 June 1913 from Darmstadt, Germany to Fräulein Luise Krimmel of Kostheim, a district of the city of Wiesbaden on the Rhine River. 






Hanging off the frame of the airplane's cockpit
is a chalkboard with the message:  

Beim Höhenweltrekord
auf dem Griesheimer Sand
~
At the altitude world record
on the Griesheimer Sand

The reference is to a place, the German military base of Griesheim, which was near Darmstadt and was the site of the Imperial German Army's first airfield. It was a built on a sandy grassland area, previously used as an artillery firing range, called the "Griesheimer Sand." In 1908 a German aviation pioneer, August Euler (1868–1957), conducted glider flights there and recognized the land as suitable for an airfield. In 1909 he secured a lease on a portion of the site (380 acres) to use as an airfield.

On 31 December 1909, Euler earned the first civil pilot's license in Germany and began a pilot training program. By 1911 he had trained 74 pilots including Prince Henry of Prussia, the brother of the German Kaiser, Wilhelm II. In 1913 the airfield was designated "Flying station Darmstadt-Griesheim" so it's very likely that these two officers were student pilots from the first official class of German military aviators. 

I couldn't find any reference to an actual altitude record set at Griesheim, so it's probably a joke made by the two men. However Wikipedia does provide a list of altitude records and under fixed-wing aircraft records. Orville and Wilbur Wright's first powered flight in December 1903 only flew to a height of 10 ft (3 m), but by January 1910, the French aviator Louis Paulhan set a new record of 4,603 ft (1,403 m). 

That was surpassed in June 1910 by an American pilot, Walter Brookins, who reached 4,603 ft (1,403 m) flying a Wright biplane. Two months later, at an event in Scotland, another American aviator, John Armstrong Drexel, pushed the record to 6,621 ft (2,018 m) in a Blériot monoplane. By Boxing Day at the end of that year the new altitude record was 11,474 ft (3,497 m) set in Los Angeles by Archibald Hoxsey in another Wright brothers' biplane. Tragically Hoxsey died five days later in a plane crash while trying to set a new record.

In 1913 the high altitude record stood at 18,410 ft (5,610 m) set in September 1912 in a Blériot monoplane by the French aviator Roland Garros (1888–1918).  His heroic legacy is commemorated by the annual French Open tennis tournament held at the Roland Garros Stadium in Paris. 




* * *

 



My third flying duo are high above a military encampment dotted with white tents like so many macaroons. On the lower left is an airfield with a small airplane and hanger.  However the two men are civilians seated in a French monoplane very similar to Blériot's monoplane. On the tail is the number 8 so it may be an imitation of a Blériot VIII which was built in 1908. It won a prize for a flight reaching an altitude of 660 ft (200 m) and a few days later a record for long distance cross country loop flight of 8.7 miles (14 km). Here is a real photo of a Blériot VIII courtesy of Wikimedia. 
 
Blériot VIII, September 19080
Source: Wikimedia

My postcard of the aeroplane and the two fellows in it certainly look French to me. The words along the fuselage are French, "Ruet Frères  déposè ~ Ruet Brothers deposited", and may refer to the photographer. The printing on the back, CARTE POSTALE, is French, too. 

But the message on the back is very German. It was sent via German military post on 16 October 1914. This was not quite three months since the beginning of the Great War. At that time aircraft were still primarily used for observation, but the next four years would stimulate many great and terrible innovations for aircraft and aviation technology.



Here is another short video of a similar monplane.
It is a replica of a Kvasz II built by
the Hungarian aviation pioneer
Andras Kvasz (1883-1974) in the 1910's.
Though the video doesn't show it in flight
it has closeups that show how
these early airplanes were constructed.








* * *




My last pair of aviators are definitely Imperial German soldiers who seem to be waving a white flag of surrender as they fly above a grand city. The sky behind their monoplane has some lighter and heavier-than-air traffic with a zeppelin, a biplane, and another monoplane soaring along with them. 

The single-wing aircraft they are seated in was called a Taube, the German word for dove or pigeon. It was designed in 1909 by Igo Etrich, an Austrian aviation pioneer. His first monoplane flew in 1910 and was soon licensed for  production by several manufacturers, Here is a drawing of one from 1911 which better shows the curved wings which account for its name.
 

Rumpler Taube, 1911
Source: Wikipedia

The two soldiers have a chalkboard attached to their Taube which has a message. Presumably in the decades before radio this was how aviators communicated with each other and the airfield crew. Their note reads:

Mit Donner, Hagel
und Blitz schuf
Gott die Wüste
Döberitz
~
With thunder, hail
and lightning,
God created the
Döberitz desert


Döberitz was a huge military training area west of Berlin, where in 1910, the Döberitz Airfield and Imperial Army flying school was established. It is considered the birthplace of what would later be known as the German Air Force. The two soldiers then are flying above the city of Berlin. 


Google view Berlin, Germany
Source: Google Earth

Here is a bird-eye-view of the city, courtesy of Google Earth's 3-D imagery, that is close match for what the Döberitz soldiers saw. The large dome on the right is the Berliner Dom, the monumental German Protestant church and dynastic tomb of the House of Hohenzollern. The smaller dome on the left is the Humboldt Forum, a museum dedicated to human history, art and culture. In the foreground right is a park plaza which, I think, must be the former site of the gigantic Royal Prussian Garden Chair which was still in place when these two soldiers flew over the city.



Their postcard was sent as an attachment to a package as there is no address or postmark, only a very long letter. I think the writer is the soldier in front driving the Taube since there is a signature scrawled next to him. Unfortunately the handwriting is too squiggly for my limited German translating skills and there is no date, but I guess the photo dates from the war years 1914-1918.




I finish with a beautiful video of a 1909 Bleriot XI,
described as the oldest flying airplane in the United States.
In August 2023, after a complete restoration,
Chief Pilot Clay Hammond made some
practice flights (hops really) in the airplane
at the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome
a living museum in Red Hook, New York,
near the town of Rhinebeck. 

 



I think my title of Paper Airplanes
was not too much of an exaggeration.
For more, check out
Paper Airplanes
and
Paper Airplanes, part 2







This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday
where weather may have grounded all flights.



Sauerkraut Day in Forreston, Illinois

18 October 2025



Sometimes it's the little details
that make a big difference.
When choosing
a masquerade costume
pick the funniest hat,
silliest fake mustache
and you can look pretty decent. 
But if you really want to get the laughs
pay attention to your shoes.







Don't opt for comfort, style,
or practicality.
Go for foolish authenticity,
even if it makes your feet hurt.
(Of course, still watch where you step.)

That's what will make
a good costume
a great costume.







Wooden footwear certainly worked for these fellas.
They called themselves
"The Little German Band".
It was Oct 2nd, 1913, 
and they wanted
to look their best
for Sauerkraut Day
in Forreston, Illinois.



It was 1913, a time when "boosterism" was taking hold of America's small towns. Towns competed with each other to attract new homesteaders, businesses, factories, railroad depots, and tourists. The folk in the little village of Forreston, Illinois thought that sauerkraut might do the trick. Pickled cabbage makes the perfect condiment for any sandwich. Who doesn't love it? And if it was offered for free and accompanied by a little German band, wouldn't that attract nearly everyone in a hundred miles? The town fathers of Forreston certainly hoped it would.  

The man standing in the middle of the band is likely Forreston's mayor. Extra credit if you can spot the teddy bears.
 


Forreston is a village in Ogle County, Illinois, about 100 miles west of Chicago. It was established in 1854 and named for the vast forests that once grew in this area of northern Illinois. It was settled by predominately German families, so, of course, sauerkraut was in their blood, so to speak. In 1913 it had a population of around 870 residents. The streets were laid out on the flat terrain in a neat grid using the common names of trees: Willow, Pine, Elm, Birch, Cherry, Blasam, White Oak,  Walnut, Ash, Chestnut, Plum, Locust, Hickory.

Evidently birds liked what they saw in Forreston, too. How someone trained a pigeon to operate a camera remains a mystery.   

According to a history of the event, published on 9 October 1930 by the Forreston Journal, the idea for the festival came from a local business man, Justus DeGraff, who, while on a trip out west, happened to stop in Ackley, Iowa during their "Sauerkraut Day". Ackley is about 200 miles west of Forreston and like Forreston was home to many German immigrants. DeGraff was impressed by how this small community celebrated its culture and hospitality by offering visitors a feast centered around this simple German dish. Having started its first Sauerkraut fest in 1902, by 1912 it had earned a national reputation for its generous townsfolk.  

Edwardsville IL Intelligencer 
30 August 1912



In 1912 many newspapers around the country reported on Ackley's Sauerkraut Day where "10,000 visitors" partook of "a dozen barrels of kraut and 1,000 pounds of wienerwurst." And it was all for free. 

Yet those 10,000 visitors translated into a very large number of potential sales for merchants and vendors. Mr. DeGraff surely didn't need much more to convince Forreston's town council to try the same event for their town. And so it was decided that Thursday 2 October 1913 would be their first "Sauerkraut Day". 




In this decade the roads and streets of Forreston were still unpaved and most traffic was horse-powered. The junction of Main Street and 1st Avenue was chosen as the event's center. A simple raised platform was built for speakers and band concerts. There were also booths for vendors and other carnival-like games and entertainments. 

In this photo a throng of men, women, and children gather around a stage where a half dozen men are seated. The photographer helpfully added a caption of Sauerkraut Day, Forreston, ILL. 10-2-13. I expect this unmarked postcard was taken early in the morning that day and then hurriedly printed to sell later that afternoon.


Forreston, Illinois, 1st Ave and Main St. 
Source: Google Maps, 2012 

Today the modern view in Forreston shows the same scene has somewhat changed but still retains the layout of the buildings. Like many small towns in America, careful historic preservation is rare to see because of it is so expensive. It is sadly more common for decaying architecture to be sheathed in plywood siding with cheap vinyl windows. The essence of history is all about entropy. 





In this postcard photo the camera looks back toward the same intersection, but on a normal day instead of Sauerkraut Day. The caption reads "South Side Main St.  Forreston, Ill." (The number is a photographer's reference for the film negative.) On the right we can see Forreston's Central House Hotel, and nest to it on the left is a large brick building where, I think in the second floor right window, the photographer set up his camera for the previous street photo.  



Forreston, Illinois, Main St. and 1st Ave.  
Source: Google Maps, 2012 

In Google's Steet View from 2012, the hotel is gone but the other building remains. Taking a virtual Google walk around Forreston's streets lets us see a commemorative stone in the front peak with the name "Carmon Block 1902". It's a large structure similar to a townhall but I'm not sure what it's original purpose was. Forreston had an "Opera House" in the 1900s but I don't think this was it. It may have been a fraternal society's development which rented out the ground floor spaces to small businesses. Today it is the location of a Subway® sandwich shop.




Forreston's little German Band also posed for formal group photo in the photographer's studio. Standing in a line are six men dressed in zany rube outfits and holding brass instruments, two cornets, trombone, two tenor horns, and a baritone. Several sport fake beards that give them a real rustic look of German farmers. On the side of the photo is another caption for Sauerkraut Day, Oct 2nd '13. I think this was likely taken earlier in the day as their wooden clogs are fairly clean.  




On the back is a short note. 

The fellow with
the X is
Brother John




Humor in this era used a great many stereotypes, many that would be unacceptable today, and making fun of rural folk was classic mockery. It's likely that several of the men in this little band, if not all of them, were from German families who had immigrated to America in the mid-19th century. Because I have a sizeable collection of German and Austrian postcards of music hall comics from the 1900s, I know that back in the old country the country bumpkin was a standard character in Germanic humor. So it's not surprising that for Sauerkraut Day in Forreston the local jokers would invent a comical German brass band to entertain their neighbors and visitors.

This type of musical clowning was often called a "rube band" and I've featured photos of them a few times on my blog. The Zanesville Rube Band from Ohio was started as a kind of booster club entertainment in 1905 to promote interest in Zanesville. In Trick or Treat? another Ohio brass band posed in crazy yokel costumes for a postcard that was surely a souvenir from a town festival like Sauerkraut Day.    



As I began writing my story this week I discovered three more postcards from Forreston on eBay. I purchased them but they have not yet arrived in time for this story so I am temporarily using the image from the sellers' listings. Next week I will have better scans. 




This photo is labeled Sauerkraut Day, Forreston, Ill. Oct. 2, '13 and looks to be taken during the height of the fest's inaugural event. It shows several hundred people standing around the platform stage seen in my first street photo. The position in front of the Central Hotel was probably for the convenience of visiting dignitaries who were invited to speak to the crowd.  

A couple days later the Rockford Register-Gazette reported on Forreston's big event.  

                                    FORRESTON 
    Forreston, Oct 3. — Sauerkraut day, Tuesday, Oct 2. drew one of the largest crowd that ever was in Forreston.  The program began at 9:30 a. m. with music by the Lanark and Forreston bands.  The address of welcome was given by Mayor Frank Wertz, the response by Hon. C. W. Middlekauff of Lanark, who was born and raised in Forreston. W. V. Geiser of Freeport gave an address in German and Judge A. J. Clarity of Freeport gave the address in English. 
    Sauerkraut, wieners, rye bread and coffee were given to all, free from 12 till 2.  Byron and Forreston ball teams crossed bats.  Free exhibitions were given by the "Ball Family."  Foot races, blind cart races, pillow fights, pie eating contests. 
    Several minor accidents occurred but fortunately nothing serious.  A three-year-old child from Freeport got separated from its mother and got in front of an auto, one wheel passing over him, bruising his hip. Several parties had their pockets picked for various sums.  A Freeport man had $1,000 in certificates taken from his pocket.  He telephoned the Freeport bank not to cash same.  The bands gave an evening concert from 5:30 to 8. A dance in the M. W. A. hall attracted many in the evening.





Forreston's first Sauerkraut Day in 1913 proved such a success that it was repeated in 1914 and again in 1915.  In this photo from 1915 the crowds of people are elbow to elbow and are listening to a band seated on a stage at the back right. 

On 21 September 1915 , a week before Sauerkraut Day, Forrester's town booster club organized an enormous road trip of "fifty automobiles carrying 225 people" to travel to 11 nearby towns for promotion of their event. It included the Forreston band of eighteen pieces and seven members of the Young Ladies Glee Club who sang at concerts in each town accompanied by the band. 

A few years ago I wrote two stories about similar road trips made  by town boosters for a little place in Kansas. In On The Road in White City, Kansas and Street Music in White City, Kansas I presented photos of town bands and boosters' automobiles arranged on streets not unlike those in Forreston. 

In 1915 the Rockford newspaper published a detailed program of Forreston's Sauerkraut Day. Besides the Forreston town band there was another one from nearby Henney, IL as well as Forreston's now "celebrated German band", too. They were all on the schedule performing throughout the day from 9:30 AM when the festival began until it ended with a two hour double band concert from 7:00 to 9:00 PM followed by dance and picture show at the opera house. 
 




In this second postcard, captioned "Eating Sauerkraut, Forreston Ill Sept 20 '15, a large crowd are in a park or maybe a baseball field since there are bleachers in the back. In the foreground left is a wagon with a band seated precariously on chairs. Most of the musicians wear traditional bandsmen's uniforms but one tenor horn on the end looks to be dressed in a hayseed outfit. I wonder if he is tapping his clogs to keep time. 

According to the 1930 Forreston Journal's report of the event, the first Sauerkaut Day in 1913 used just three kettles for cooking the kraut. In 1930 they needed nine. In 1922 over 20,000 people came to Forreston's festival consuming 400 gallons of sauerkraut, 800 pounds of wieners (hot dogs), 700 loaves of rye bread, along with thousands of cookies and hundreds of gallons of coffee. Over several decades the town continued its annual Sauerkraut Festival  tradition with parades, floats, carnival attractions, and, of course, lots of sauerkraut. The only exception was in 1918 at the end of the first World War when the festival changed to a "Barbecue Day" in order to avoid offending returning veterans who had had their fill of kraut. The town continued to advertise its fall festival until sometime in the '60s when it was quietly discontinued. 
 
Forreston, still a small town in 2025 with around 1,400 residents, recently revived its Sauerkraut Day a few years ago though I'm not sure if it is still free or as well attended. It has a lot of competition now. 

In Illinois this past year you could attend the Rhubarb Fest in Aledo; Sweetcorn festivals in Dekalb, Hoopston, and Mendota; a Popcorn Fest in Casey; a Grape Fest in Nauvoo; a Chocolate Fest in Galesburg; and even a Sandwich Fair in Sandwich, Illinois, just to name a few as there are many more.  And in 2023 Ackley, Iowa celebrated the 120th anniversary of its Sauerkraut Day. 

I think I'll pass on having seconds, thank you very much.  






This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday
where everyone is taking to the streets.




nolitbx

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