Carol Klitzke
Historian / Writer
Exuctive Director: Carlton County Historical Society
my earliest connections to history
Most of my great-grandparents were immigrants. The family farm was actually homesteaded by my great-grandfather. I still cherish time spent there as a child. My grandmother lived her entire life on that farm in Milaca, Minnesota. Her father came from Sweden.
I stayed on that family farm for two summers, my grandmother's house was filled with crochet leaflets and Barbie doll patterns. She had a great sewing machine and let me use it. At that same age of eight, I was making patterns with cams and spools
My grandmother liked to bring my young self along to explore the acreage. One part I especially loved; it was an old road running between the cow pasture and a field. It was wooded, and felt so romantic to me. I would walk down that road imagining who had traveled it and where they were going.I think that might have been one of my earliest connections to history, at about eight years old.
To this day I knit, sew, and crochet. I especially love crochet because it reminds me of my father's mother. She used to sit and talk with me while her hands were moving so fast—I couldn’t believe it. One grandmother taught me how to “throw” the yarn, the other taught me to “pick,” and for years I didn’t even know my stitches were twisted because I had learned both styles!
displacement of Native people
Through research I did, I believe my great-grandfather immigrated to the United States after a foundry near his home closed down. He and his brother came and he married shortly after arriving. Seeking opportunity, the train took them to Princeton, Minnesota. From the stop they had to walk to their farm -it was about five miles. The area where my family settled was filled with Swedish immigrants, and they formed a very close-knit community.
My great-grandfather would have received the land for free, on the condition that he built a home on it and lived there for a certain number of years. That was essentially what homesteading meant. For him, it was an opportunity—probably more economic than political. We rarely, if ever, talked about what had been there before.I don't think it ever crossed my great-grandfather’s mind that the land settlement policies absolutely played a role in the marginalization and displacement of Native people.
boarding school discovery
In December 2021, a group of women known as the Fond du Lac Rez Historical Society reached out, asking if they could hold their meetings at our museum. With COVID at the time, the buildings on the Fond du Lac Reservation were closed.
Upon invitation, I saw they were a warm, congenial group. During that first meeting, I spoke and asked if they would help write a grant. Our existing exhibit implied that Native Americans were only a thing of the past as a people, now assimilated into the community in nearly every way. We knew we needed to update it to reflect their continuing presence and history.
That day I was given a book written by Sharon Doolittle-Shuck titled My Grandfather’s Blood Memories and Unbroken Spirit. It tells the story of the author's lineage, time in Leavenworth prison, and also his childhood experiences in an Indian boarding school.
The book mentions the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration—the same religious order that ran the university where I taught for 34 years. I was unaware of their involvement in boarding schools before this. The author's father and uncle both attended the sisters’ school in Odanah, Wisconsin. The Franciscan Sisters, known as FSPA run a program called Truth and Healing, an effort to reckon with any harm caused by their past involvement in the boarding schools. My experience with the FSPA has been that they’re very dedicated to social justice.
Through curator Meg Paulino, we were invited to La Crosse, where the FSPA archives are located. We were warmly welcomed and invited to stay for two nights, with lodging and meals generously provided. While exploring the archives, one of the women in the group, Janis Fairbanks, found a treasure: eight boxes of material from a Works Progress Administration project in the 1930s.
The discovery was that one of the nun sisters at the time had collected oral histories, and all of it was still preserved. Janis was elated. Her book “Sugarbush Babies” chronicles her Ojibwe upbringing and lessons on life. Among things were vital attendance records, showing when the author's father and uncle were enrolled in the school, along with other students from the Fond du Lac Band—from towns like Cloquet, Brookston, and Moose Lake. Local Ojibwe folk have inquired to the Carlton County Historical Society asking, “Can you help us find out where our kids went to boarding schools?” There was no place to even start helping as I had no idea how to even begin. I am so grateful the trip to La Crosse gave me the start I needed. I have reviewed records from 1911 onward, but I hope to soon explore earlier documents. That trip opened the door to learning more about where these children were sent. This mapping of hidden history helps to complete the times of generations past.
why history matters
Most often the accepted history we are taught leaves many voices silent or misrepresented. If we don’t go back and do the work, these stories remain unheard. While observing and learning we tend to focus on certain things and miss others, creating a bias. Our historical society needs to actively work to include the stories and history behind them in a complete manner.
I know of a woman who is also very curious about the history of Black Americans in Carlton County. Research is being done to go through census records for every Minnesota county, finding Black neighborhoods and local families here. What were their experiences? Recording this portion of history is important. Alongside that, I want to understand the presence of secret societies. Residents in this area recall as children seeing KKK crosses burning on a hillside along the St. Louis River. Though horrifying, it stands as part of our local history. We can’t pretend it didn’t happen just because it’s uncomfortable. Cloquet is a wonderful community that I love—but like every place, the past includes both light and dark.
creative storytelling and historical preservation
I don’t usually call myself an artist. However, as a writer I do see my creative side. One of the reasons I wrote So Long and Best of Luck, - was to capture the feeling and concern of local people during World War II. The collection of letters and correspondence from local people serves as a snapshot of communication from a hometown to a world away. An uncertain future awaited the world.
We were in the middle of a situation seeing the wrong rulers with too much power. Some feel like we're facing something similar today. I wanted to convey through the book that during World War II, people didn't know how it was going to turn out. Hindsight says of course, “Well, we won that war.” However, at the time it was filled with uncertainty and fear. A very real way to grasp it is to read letters written during the war.
We were very fortunate to locate a trove of 56 letters. Some were written by local resident Edward Kennedy. With a request to his employer, Northeast Paper Company in Cloquet, he was given access to some 300 men at the company who were serving in the military. Letters included not just outgoing, but also correspondence back and forth, giving a vivid picture of activity happening both in town and on the front lines. It made history feel immediate and real.
I supplemented the letters with local newspaper articles from the Pine Knot News, offering a powerful snapshot of what life was like in Cloquet during the war. This type of local history helps people see that major historical events didn’t just happen “somewhere else” or to “other people.”
They happened here, in their own community. And when we see those patterns, we can learn from them. Understanding the past better can grant us two things : hope and caution.
Profiles in Creativity has been funded in part through an Art Project Grant for Individuals FY25 awarded to Glenn Swanson by the Arrowhead Regional Arts Council.
Local Hands photography project/exhibition will highlight the lives and craftsmanship of 20 local artisans of diverse artistic and crafting disciplines, showcasing their skills, traditions, and the cultural significance of their hands at work.
