Never Forgotten: Earl Dols

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

The following is an excerpt from “Never Forgotten: Stories by Scott County, Minnesota, WWII Veterans” by Tom Melchior, in collaboration with the Scott County Historical Society.

Earl Dols volunteered for the Army and served in the 34th Red Bull Division, 1st Battalion, 168th Infantry and 175th Field Artillery Combat Team, except for the time he was detached from them and served with the British 1st Division.  Before joining the Army, Earl had finished the program for mechanics at Dunwoody College of Technology and was assigned to maintain military vehicles. Earl was shipped from Fort Snelling to Camp Claiborne, Louisiana, for basic training. He was then moved to Fort Dix, New Jersey and prepared to go over seas.

Portrait of Earl Dols.

On the third of March, 1942, we got all of our equipment checked over. It takes a long time to take care of 125 vehicles. I changed all the lubricating oil. Then on the 28th or 29th of April, we left the states on the USS Mexico that had been converted to a troop ship. They said that it used to be a banana boat. The Normandy was there, but that caught fire. The Normandy was a big French boat that held lots and lots of troops. They were pouring so much water on it and the thing capsized right in the harbor. A couple of buddies of mine and I went down to the Brooklyn Yards and we could see the thing there laying on its side. We didn’t know at the time that it was scheduled to move us. The USS Mexico was a small ship compared to an ocean liner like that.

We left on the 28th or 29th of April. We got to Belfast, Ireland, on the 11th of May. We had some training there, but then we were detached from the 34th and attached to the British 1st Division. We would sit around a table with gas masks. Put your gas mask on and breathe through there for one hour, but they didn’t use gas then. From there we went to Enniskillen, Ireland, for basic training. We were eating “1-and-14s” or “14s-and-1s.” A ration box would last one man fourteen days, or fourteen men one day. That was the British chow, hair ox-tail soup and such. As far as buying anything off of camp, you couldn’t. It was all fish and chips, fish and chips.

Then we were detached to the British and the old 34th stayed back on the British Isles. Afterwards they shipped the 34th and the 175th Artillery up to Scotland. We left Ireland for Scotland on a barge that was used in the Dunkirk invasion. While we were in Scotland, some of the equipment came. There they had better seaports. The USS Mexico was the only ship that came in at Belfast because the harbor was so shallow there that they couldn’t get a big liner in there.

We went to Inverurie in the northern part of Scotland for a couple months. We were training for amphibious landings. LSTs [tank landing ships] would come in there off the Atlantic coast. Because a lot of rivers flowed out into the ocean, the LSTs could back in there. About two nights a week we’d have a practice load with the trucks, mostly all 6-by-6s, Dodge command cars, weapons carriers, and Willis Jeeps and that kind of stuff. It was all loaded after dark, and it got so dark you could hardly see a hand in front of your face. About one o’clock the sun would start coming up again.

The guys got so good they could load a whole LST backing them in there so that when they had to get the hell off the enemy coastline, it didn’t take any time at all to drop the gate and off they went. They could load one of those LSTs in 30 minutes. It was so crowded in there you couldn’t hardly walk in between the vehicles and everything else.

We didn’t know what was going on. We took a couple of trucks and loaded them up with parts because we were going to be detached from our division and attached to the British 1st Division. We had gotten new vehicles and the British were using ours because the old 2-by-4 Chevy station wagons were all wore out and beat up, so we got all new ones. That took a while for the United States to make that stuff.

Dols and company working on a military Jeep.

After training in loading and unloading LSTs, they shipped us down to Glasgow, Scotland, for a month. They got us ready to load up on what had been the ocean liner Awatia, but that was changed into a troop ship. It was docked in Liverpool, England. The 175th Field Artillery was separated from our division, from the 34th, attached with the British 1st Division. They were a bunch of bastards. They shoved us in more or less for experimental use. We were trained on a British 25-pounder gun. That was equivalent to an 87-millimeter gun. We left the old 75-millimeter from World War I here because that was no match for the German armor. It was like taking a pea shooter. It was useless. We knew that.

We loaded up on the British ship Metrapole on the 15th of October, 1942, and sailed around on the Atlantic Ocean for 24 days. We looked up at the sun and it would be in the south, half an hour later in the east. We were zig zaggin’ all the time so the Krauts wouldn’t take a bee line on us. There were a lot of subs, U-boats, out on the Atlantic Ocean.

This guy Moody was from A Battery was a battery mechanic. I had been with the outfit nearly a whole year and I knew a lot of those guys, not personally, but I knew of them because of their jobs and my job. We were attached to the British outfit, 1st Division. A Limey soldier, as we called them, was cleaning his Tommy gun. Accidentally, it went off and five slugs cut across Sergeant Moody. We buried Moody at sea, put him down the plank into the water. He had a pet female dog he named Lady. The guys from A Battery kept the dog all during the war. When the war was over, some of the guys from the battery in Minneapolis brought the dog back and gave it to this guy’s mother.

Where did you land in North Africa?

The rest of the division came in as far as Oran, North Africa. The British and our 175th Field Artillery went in – they told us about a day or two before – through the Straits of Gibraltar. We didn’t know what the hell was waiting for us. We figured they would have sunk all of us. We went through there at night. I can remember looking to the left off the deck of the ship and I could see lights. I don’t know if it was Portugal or Spain, but we went through there with no opposition whatsoever. None.

I couldn’t figure that out. I think the Germans were so busy up in North Africa. It was [Winston] Churchill’s idea to spread this thing out so the Germans couldn’t concentrate on one little area.

We landed at Algiers and we had a little opposition there. We all got off the big ships on a rope ladder on LSPs [Landing Personnel Boats]. It was on a Sunday morning. They dumped some of us off here and some of us there and they said, “Stay put.”

We sat on the shoreline, three or four of us together. It was 10 o’clock, November 8th, 1942. Actually it wasn’t supposed to be done that way. It was a big, gigantic operation with lots and lots of mistakes. About four o’clock in the afternoon, they had runners who told us to go to certain areas. We marched into Algiers. It was pretty well settled then. There was a little dispute between the Free French and us. It took us awhile to get our equipment unloaded.

Then we were going to convoy across from Algiers toward Tunisia, a 400-mile trip that was pretty much desert, some roads. The wind would come up and we’d have dust storms that affected our equipment. We couldn’t oil anything. The dust would get in there and nothin’ would work.

We convoyed across North Africa and went up to Medjez el Bab. The 5th Armor was in there. It was wet and rainy and they got their tanks stuck. Every once in awhile you could hear a shell come in and “bomph” there would be big black smoke there. The Germans were adjusting on our positions. We were all green. We didn’t even know what it was. Some of the brass knew, I suppose, but we didn’t know.

There was little bit of a shack that some slept in, but I slept outside in a shelter-half with two blankets. It rained that night and I woke up the next morning and my hand – I had a wristwatch, just a cheap watch-- and my wrist was laying in water. So much for the watch.

Nothing happened ’till that night. We were waiting for orders to get out of there. We knew it was hot territory. We had a little candle burning in that shack. About 11 o’clock at night this guy from the 5th Armored came in. He had abandoned his tank. It was stuck in the mud. The Germans were about a half mile or three quarters of a mile out of town. He took his 45-pistol and dug a foxhole with it. He said that some of the German infantry was right around him. He waited for his chance and he got the hell out of there. He got into this town and saw this candle burning in this rackety old building and he rapped on the door and said, “You guys better get the hell out of here. The Krauts are down the road here about a half mile.” We waited for orders to move.

At last the order came down to move. We got out of there, but A Battery lost three guns and they were taken prisoner. “Old Soapy” Jones, he got his truck and gun out of there, but we lost four British 25-pounders.

 It was a funny start to the war. There was a pocket of Germans here and 20 miles away there was another pocket of Germans. The next morning, we come into this little town of Gafsa, and the Germans used their Stuka bombers. They were slow airplanes that maybe moved 120 knots an hour. They dive right straight down and drop their bombs and they’re off. There must have been quite a few of them because that morning about 10 o’clock they were hauling all the dead out of town and they had them all loaded up on two-wheeled carts to take them out to the cemetery. They were all civilians.

Did you encounter any fighting in Tunisia?

Oh, ya, we were there from November 8th for a couple of months. We used the British 25-pounder. From that time until the first part of January 1943, and then we got the American-made 105 guns. Then we were all back to the Red Bull outfit. They were kind of testing us out to see if we could do a lot. Nobody seemed to know what was going on except the big brass.

It was hot in the summer of ’43. It was all sand. We were in a town they called Matur and from there we convoyed back up to Oran. That’s where the rest of our division was. We were getting ready to make the landing in Italy.

On the move.

When did you land in Italy?

We came in and landed about the 9th of October at Salerno. The 45th or 36th Division went in there and they couldn’t hold, so the old 151st that I had been with at first was turned over to the 175th that was used at Salerno, because a German anti-tank outfit came right up and started firing on our gun positions. They said that if it hadn’t been for the 151st, we couldn’t have held Salerno. The Germans backed off, so we went up towards Naples, Italy.

We pulled in at Concerta, a town about ten, twenty miles out of Naples. That night Mt. Vesuvius blew up. We could see the stuff going up in the air. From there it went pretty slow. We went up toward the Gustav Line at Cassino. We didn’t move there for months, couldn’t get through.

The Gustav Line was a series of German military fortifications in Italy. The main line of fortification ran across Italy through the Apennine Mountains to the mouth of the Sangro River on the Adriatic Sea in the east. The center of the line, where it crossed the main route north to Rome (Highway 6) was anchored around the mountains behind the town of Cassino including Monte Cassino, which had an old abbey sitting atop it that gave the Germans clear observation of any attackers.

They figured the Germans were using the Abbey for a lookout because it’s sitting way up high. They said they weren’t using it, but one of our L5s or J3s observation airplanes said they could see an antenna sticking out, so then they knew the Germans were using that. They warned them and they just kept using it. We were losing too many guys, but you couldn’t get them out of foxholes. They had litter bearers taking them out and some of the bodies laid there for two or three weeks in the cold. You wouldn’t believe it, but that’s the way it was.

What made the battle of Monte Cassino such a difficult battle?

The Germans were dug into the mountains. They had been preparing that line for a long time. That was their Winter Line defense.

That was in the Liri Valley and Highway 6 come through there going up to Rome. We were trying to get through there to take Rome, but we couldn’t get through. About 10 o’clock in the morning, B-25s from the 13th Air Force came over and they dropped everything they had. We had 500 artillery pieces firing at the same time. I would have swore to God that if they shook it any more, the bottom of Italy would have fell off the bottom of Europe. They said it didn’t do any good. All that rubble gave the Germans protection.

We decided we would try a different way of getting there. We went up to Anzio. We loaded some of the equipment on LSTs.  They took about four men out of each section of ten men because there wasn’t room. We broke through about the fourth or sixth of June about a day or two after the invasion of Europe.

You said there were so many guys on the beach at Anzio that the Germans were shooting artillery at you.

 Yes, the beach was only about five, six miles wide and 18 miles long. Every night LSTs would go in there and dump some ammo and equipment, but it took a long time to get enough stuff to make a push. You can’t make a push and run out of ammunition. You couldn’t dig in because the water would come in on the beach. After two or three feet you’d strike water, so you couldn’t protect any of our provisions.

Anzio was a bastard. There wasn’t anyplace that you could go to have any protection because the Germans could reach us. The ocean was behind us. Germany was here in the mountains to the left; Germany was here in the mountains in front; and Germany was here in the mountains to the right. They clipped us from three sides.

Earl Dols at Anzio.

How did you get through?

It took awhile until we got enough equipment. As we brought the stuff in, the Germans would send in a barrage of artillery over and blow it all up. They figured they would run us right out into the Mediterranean. We got enough equipment and we pushed on through. It was either the 4th or 6th of June that we took Rome. About the same time the invasion at Normandy took place.

105,000 personnel from the United States, the United Kingdom, Poland, Canada, India, Free French Forces and New Zealand fought in the Battle of Monte Casino. American, British, and Canadian forces had 43,000 combat casualties (7,000 killed, 36, 000 wounded or missing) in the Battle of Anzio.

There was no fighting in Rome, right?

Yes, it was called an open city. We marched through Rome. We went past the Coliseum. We stayed on the outside of Rome for about a day and a half because the Germans had blown the bridge across the Tiber River and we couldn’t get across. We had the Bailey Bridge. The engineers would piece a bunch of this bridge together and push some of it across and add to it and push that across till they got over that span. It wasn’t like the pontoon bridges that had balloons underneath them These were all steel. They could handle some pretty big loads such as tanks, but not too many. They had to space them out. From there it was tough going up through those mountains.

Where did you go next?

To Città Vecchia where the Krauts had a big gun. They said the barrel was over 30 feet long. They used to fire that sucker at a little town by the name of Nett, hoping they’d hit some LSTs and stuff out in the water. You could hear that sucker come over – woop, woop, woop, woop, and a booster shot was behind it and that would give it another boost into the harbor at Natuna. Our L-5s, Ariel Observation Post, would go and try to locate where that gun was, but they never could find it. It was on a railroad gun. They’d fire the gun a few different times and pull it back into a railroad house.

How far did you go? Where did you finish?

We got as far as Livorno Luiano up in the Apennines Mountains about 45 miles north of Florence. We stayed there from the middle of October until spring. That’s when the invasion of Sicily took place. They didn’t need us anymore. They gave us a rest. We had enough. I saw Mussolini hanging upside down in a garage station at Milan. The partisans had killed him.

What were “screaming meemies”?

When they [the bombs] would drop they had like a small siren built right into them. It was to terrify the enemy. We had those dropped on us up at Anzio. They dropped everything on us. There was no place there where they couldn’t reach.

There were a lot of horses and cows and what have you on the beach. We had burros. There was one of them there, and ten or twelve of us would go up to get our mess, our chow. We’d go to Frank, the mess sergeant, and I always got a couple cubes of sugar. That old burro would come to meet me every morning and I’d feed these cubes of sugar to ’em. Never a morning would he miss. He’d be there. One morning he didn’t show up, so I went to look around a bit. A shell hit him and he was gone.

Can you talk about the Volturno River?

We crossed that about three different times. It was like a snake. You’d cross it here and go up a ways and here that thing was again. In the fall of the year when it rained, it was a couple miles wide. Our company commander, Captain De Wells, got killed there. He was a West Point guy. He wasn’t afraid of nothin’. Oh, that guy had guts.

There were so many mines planted. In one place we were in a rest area at the Volturno. The river bed was mined. The water had settled and you could see these pins sticking up from the river bed. The rain and the water from the higher land would come into this lower area and wash like a culvert. Our infantry would try to come up through these washouts. They [the Germans] had these “bouncing Betties” and you tripped the wires and they cut across your groin and killed ya.

It seems as though every place you went the Germans had machine guns.

I dream about them. Up to about a few months ago I could hear the German burp guns. Burrrrrrrrp, burrrrrrrrp, they were real fast. You could hear them at night at Anzio beach head.

Did you have any protection for your ears from the shelling?

None whatsoever. We didn’t have any. I never saw any. They [guys in the artillery] all had trouble hearing. We were coming around a bend and the 155, the Long Tom, was firing up this way. The muzzle blast from that 155 hit and I couldn’t hear anything for about three days.

What would you say was the worst fighting that you encountered?

Anzio. The Germans were north of us, east of us, and west of us. They had three sides. Shells were coming in all the time. It got so one day was like another. It was seven days a week. Sundays and Saturdays, that didn’t mean nothin’.

Earl Dols was awarded the following decorations and citations: Good Conduct Medal, Bronze Service Arrowhead, European-African-Middle Eastern Theatre Medal, American Defense Service Medal, and six Overseas Service bars: Algeria-French Morocco, Tunisia, Naples-Foggia, Rome-Arno, Northern Apennines, and Po Valley.

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

Shotguns and Write-In Votes, Part 3

By Charles Pederson

Part 1 and Part 2 of this article presented the often-overlooked political lives of Cora McQuestion and Elizabeth Ries, two strong Scott County women who blazed a trail in the local political world. This final chapter, Part 3, reflects on the two women’s rise in the context of women’s rights generally.

The Limits of Feminism

On March 11, 1926, shortly after the election of Cora McQuestion and Elizabeth Ries, the Jordan Independent remarked, “Scott County . . . is becoming quite the feminist stronghold.” The article’s favorable tone contrasted with the prevailing opposition to the 19th Amendment just a few years before. A typical letter to the editor in the Baltimore Sun, for example, had been titled, “Don’t Get So Excited, Dear Miss. Maybe We’ll Let You Vote Some Time or Other, If You Are Good Little Girls.”

The encouraging “feminist” sentiments, however, were short-lived. After McQuestion’s and Ries’s elections in the mid-1920s, no other woman for many years was elected mayor of a Minnesota town. In Shakopee, for example, Isla Lindmeyer was elected in 1952—27 years after Ries’s election. Delores Lebens was elected Shakopee mayor for a 1-year term in 1988—another 36 years. And since Lebens’s election until the date of this writing, not another woman has served in Shakopee’s highest office.

It’s hard to quantify why McQuestion and Ries were elected. It must be true that both women were favorably viewed as viable political figures. McQuestion’s actions in foiling a bank robbery, overseeing an uptick in arrests for Prohibition-related infractions, and being one of the few female mayors all brought positive publicity to Prior Lake. In Shakopee Ries leaned into her role as mayor, as well, chalking up notable accomplishments.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing about McQuestion’s and Ries’s political lives is not that they were elected, but that their elections came so soon after nationwide female suffrage was instituted.

Dreams Deferred

It might be argued that women made further strides during World Wars I and II, entering farming and manufacturing fields that men had traditionally dominated. But when men returned from those conflicts, they resumed their previous positions, further demonstrating that women’s gains were short-lived. Until startlingly recently, women could not do the following:

  1. Serve on a jury. Only in 1973 could women finally serve in all 50 states.

  2. Get a credit card in their own name. A 1974 law allowed women to get a card without a husband or other male relative as cosignatory.

  3. Be guaranteed that they would not be fired for getting pregnant. A 1978 law made it illegal to fire a woman for being pregnant.

  4. Decide to refuse sexual relations with their husband. In 1993, spousal rape finally became illegal in all 50 states.

  5. Get an Ivy League education. The last Ivies to allow “co-eds” were Yale and Princeton, in 1969; Harvard, 1977; and Columbia, 1981.

  6. Pay the same rate as men to obtain health insurance. A 2010 federal law forced insurers to charge the same rate for males and females.

  7. Fight on the front lines. In 2013 a combat ban was lifted.

Looked at Another Way

“[The struggle for female suffrage] is so often described in a way that makes it seem kind of dowdy and dour. . . It is not a boring history of nagging spinsters; it is a badass history of a revolution staged by political geniuses.” —Kate Clarke Lemay, Curator of the National Portrait Gallery.

Learn More!

Bennett, Jessica, & Chambers, Veronica. (2020, August 19). Suffrage Isn’t “Boring History.” It’s a Story of Political Geniuses. New York Times.

Coller, Julius. (1976). The Shakopee Story. North Star Pictures.

Drexler, Ken, & Champagne, Mary. (2019, September 13). 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution: Primary Documents in American History. Library of Congress Research Guide.

Evon, Dan. (2019, September 3). Could Women Not Do These 9 Things in 1971? A Viral List Recounts Some of the Bumps on the Road to Gender Equality. Snopes.

Jones, Hannah. (2016, March 18). Women of Courage: Pioneers of Scott County. SWnewsmedia.

Kennedy, Audrey. (2021, March 18). Explore Women’s Art, History and Culture This March. SWnewsmedia.

La Opinión [Los Angeles]. (1927, April 3). Alcalde que fundara un restaurant [Mayor who started a restaurant]. In Library of Congress.

Minnesota Historical Society Library. (n.d.). Women’s Suffrage in Minnesota: Overview.

Minnesota NOW. (2021, April 10). Trailblazers Come in Many Colors.

National Register of Historic Places. (2010). Minnesota MPS Holmes Street Bridge. National Archives Catalog.

Paranick, Amber. (2020, November 3). “Women Have the Vote!” [Blog post]. Library of Congress.

Roessner, L. Amber. (2020). The Voices of Public Opinion: Lingering Structures of Feeling About Women's Suffrage in 1917 U.S. Newspaper Letters to the Editor. Journalism History, 46(2), 124–144.

Scott County Historical Society. (n.d.) Rock Spring Café. In Yesterday and Today in Shakopee.

Scott County SCENE. (2020, June/July). In 1920s, Women Served as Local Mayors: Shakopee, Prior Lake Elected First Female Mayors in State Following Suffrage.

Shakopee Heritage Society. (2018, August 9.) Throwback Thursday: 75 Years Ago, County Board Agrees a New Courthouse Is Needed [Photo]. SWnewsmedia.

Shakopee, City of. (n.d.). History of Shakopee.

Shakopee, MN. (2020, March 31). A Look Back: Shakopee’s First Female Mayor.

 

Newspapers (may be viewable online)

Jordan Independent. (1926, March 11). Prior Lake’s New Mayor Is Woman of Courage: Has Record of Routing Bank Bandits Out of the Village.

Jordan Independent. (1942, December 17). Mrs. McQuestion, Former Mayor: Prior Lake Lady Departed This Life, Friday, Funeral Services Here, Monday.

Minneapolis Journal. (1926, March 10). Woman Who Routed Bandits at Prior Lake With Shotgun Elected Mayor of Village.

Minneapolis Star. (1926, March 10). Prior Lake Woman Who Routed Holdup Men Elected Mayor.

Minneapolis Sunday Tribune. (1926, January 17). Elizabeth Ries, Shakopee Mayor, on Radio Program.

Minneapolis Sunday Tribune (1927, November 27). Shakopee Woman Mayor Bruised by Hit and Run Driver.

Shakopee Argus. (1949, May 12). E. K. Ries Passes at Home Here.

 

Shotguns and Write-In Votes, Part 2

By Charles Pederson

Welcome! Happily, you have landed on Part 2 of three parts, this time about the unusual election of Elizabeth Ries and her action-filled career as Shakopee mayor. If you missed Part 1, about Prior Lake mayor Cora McQuestion, you can still read it by clicking the link.

Elizabeth Ries

Cora McQuestion accumulated accomplishments as mayor of Prior Lake. But the mayoral role really came to fruition with the long political life and strange election of Elizabeth Ries of Shakopee.

Born 1874, Elizabeth Ries was one of 13 children of a prominent Shakopee family. Her father had founded Jacob Ries Bottling Works, a successful beverage company. Ries became interested in politics at an early age, being involved in parish business at Saint Mark’s parochial school, Shakopee. An obituary in the Shakopee Argus stated that she was a fund-raiser for and contributor to various church causes. She led many activities in support of the troops during World War I.

As a young woman, Ries received training as a nurse in order to take care of her ailing mother. “It was in 1918 that her previous training as a nurse became invaluable,” reported Shakopee chronicler Julius Coller. “When the influenza scourge came, only a few nurses were available, and she gave her services and was in demand night and day.”

Elizabeth Ries, Shakopee mayor, was influential in Shakopee political and social life. Courtesy of Scott County Historical Society.

Ries’s father, Jacob, had served as mayor in the late 1890s. It might have been expected that Ries would follow in his footsteps. She did win the election of April 1925, though not through any effort of her own. By the last day of filing, Ries still had not registered her candidacy. It was widely, and reasonably, assumed that the only registered candidate, John Ring, would be the unchallenged winner.

During the week between the filing deadline and election day itself, however, “a number of [Ries’s] friends decided at the eleventh hour to endeavor to elect her by having stickers with her name printed thereon, placed in the hands of the voters,” reported the Shakopee Argus. As Coller noted, “almost without knowing about it,” Ries won the election, defeating Ring by a total of 29 votes out of 609 cast. It’s unknown how many of those voters might have been women, but it's heartwarming to think that a number voted for her, not as a novelty but as companions in the struggle for women to be recognized as persons in their own right.

No matter how strange her election, Ries reveled in her new role. Some of her activity was ceremonial, such as opening the 1926 annual Scott County Farm Bureau/Independence Day picnic on the 150th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. Some activities were political, such as procuring funding to construct the elegant iron Holmes Street Bridge across the Minnesota River, opening a direct route to the north side of the river and the Twin Cities. Some activities combined the ceremonial and political, such as “obtain[ing] the routing of several important highways through this city, and [arranging] for the installation of a new ‘white way’ [electric street lighting] in this city next spring,” according to the Minneapolis Sunday Tribune.

The Holmes Street bridge, built 1927 (under construction, above), was an important achievement for Ries. It opened a direct roadway to the Twin Cities. Courtesy of the Scott County Historical Society.

The rare deck-truss span was closed to traffic in 2005. The structure is on the National Register of Historic Places. Courtesy of the Minnesota Department of Transportation.

Perhaps the apex of Ries’s time in office was in 1927. A determined bloc of Jordan business and civic leaders had organized to move the county seat from Shakopee to Jordan. A second group was agitating to move the seat to Lydia. To keep the county seat in Shakopee, Ries built a large coalition of Shakopee business leaders. They hoped to preserve the economic benefits accruing to a county seat. Ries and her faction were successful, and Shakopee retained the courthouse and other county functions. (See “Hey, That’s My [County] Seat,” Part 1 and Part 2, for a lively account of the decades-long attempt to wrest the center of county power away from Shakopee.)

In 1926 Ries even appeared on Minnesota radio broadcaster WCCO with the “Lady Mayor’s Trio,” a Shakopee singing group. She went on air to describe her fiscal agenda, which she dubbed the “Kitchen Economy.” She appealed to women by describing “how she has been trying to conduct the affairs of her municipality in the same manner in which she believes a good wife should operate her kitchen,” said the Minneapolis Sunday Tribune.

Proving that she was not just a flash in the proverbial pan, Ries was reelected as mayor in 1927. And in mid-1928 she was appointed postmaster, resigning as mayor to take the post, in which she served for 8 years.

Ries was tough not only politically but also physically. In one incident, she was shaken up and hurt in a three-car accident. On the road one day, her car was hit by another vehicle, which sped off. A third car, coming down the hill, also crashed into Ries’s vehicle. The first driver was sought, but it’s unclear whether they were found. Ries, though bruised, was still able to function as mayor.

Interior of Rock Springs Café. Elizabeth Ries is at right. Courtesy of Scott County Historical Society.

Ries’s vigor made her a celebrity locally and as far afield as Minneapolis. She was even mentioned in the Los Angeles Spanish-language newspaper La Opinión. The article commented on a female winning an election, although with a touch of condescension: “Members of the Shakopee, Minnesota, city council can pass all the regulations they want, but Mrs. Elizabeth K. Ries, mayor of the city, will put on the coffee. Mrs. Ries, considering how little she has to do in her position, has planned to open a restaurant near the mayor's office.”*

The restaurant in question was the Rock Spring Café, which Ries took over from her father in 1927. Turtle’s Bar and Grill, at the corner of First Avenue East and Lewis Street, today occupies the site of the cafe.

Elizabeth Ries was a local celebrity whose fame spread far beyond Shakopee. Spanish-language newspaper La Opinión, in Los Angeles, carried a blurb about her mayoral victory. Courtesy of La Opinión.

After leaving political life, Ries continued as a respected community figure. She was known as an excellent hostess and as a friend to those in need. At the end of her life, an Argus article reported that Ries, “former mayor, postmaster, and philanthropist,” died at home on May 6, 1949, of apparent heart disease. The article further declared that Ries “was held in high regard in all walks of life[, . . .] attested to by the vast numbers who came to her home and the church to pay their last respects.”

We hope you’re enjoying this fascinating article about local female political life in the 1920s. The final chapter, Part 3, returns next week with the thought-provoking conclusion of the story, and the meaning behind it all.

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