Waukon native Joan Leschensky Grosshuesch relays her experiences in “People of Harper’s Slough” series

In the 1930’s my parents bought a building lot from Happy Nipper, and my father, with the help of several friends and relatives, built a simple summer cottage on the banks of Harper’s Slough. Our family spent a part of 10 or 12 summers there. Dad commuted to work in Waukon every day. There were some interesting people who made their homes in the area and lived there year-round. Some of them became good friends of our family. Their children were our playmates. These sketches are a compilation of memories of several of us who lived through those ten years together. It was during the Great Depression and times were hard.

The Mississippi River is 2,348 miles long and drains 1,243,700 square miles. Its basin is two and a half times more extensive than any other river in the United States. At its mouth it discharges 611,000 cubic feet per second. A part or all of twenty-two states are drained by its watershed. Four nations struggled to control this vital waterway until it was finally secured for the United States by the Louisiana Purchase.

Harper's Slough is but a small part of the river; flowing between Wisconsin and Iowa for a distance of about ten miles. American Indians, French, English and American explorers, traders soldiers and settlers played a part of the early history of what is now Iowa, bounded on the east by the Mississippi.

Once the slough was the main channel of the Upper Mississippi as it surged on its way between Iowa and Wisconsin. River boats of all sorts plied its waters, floating downstream or struggling against the current to go upstream. There were paddlewheel steamers, row boats and canoes in the early days, and then, huge diesel driven tugs and motorized crafts of all sorts took over.

Capricious as always; the river changed its course. The upper reaches of Harper's Slough silted shut, and the deepest channel now flowed on the Wisconsin side of the river. The lesser channel on which the village of Harper's Ferry is located is deep enough to accommodate small craft, with a shallow draft.

The commerce became that of commercial fishermen, clammers, and pleasure boats. The hotel at Harper's no longer served travelers and business folks. The town existed mainly to house local residents and supply the few vacationers and sportsmen who ventured into this out-of-the-way village. The glory days of the area were over.

Some folks left for brighter futures elsewhere; the remaining residents struggled to maintain their homes and put food on the table. Families with children had a rough go of it. Not many job opportunities existed. The grade school employed a few; there was a gas pump, whose proprietor attempted minor repairs; a small restaurant and a tavern were the extent of the businesses.

Occasionally, someone attempted another enterprise, which was doomed from the start for a lack of patronage. The post mistress and telephone operator eked out a living, as did the depot agent, but that was about it. There were one or two small farms wedged between the river and the bluffs; they barely sustained their owners. Most folks worked at more than one enterprise; supplementing their income with whatever odd jobs they could find. A small Catholic church completed the scene. These were river people. The slow pace suited them; it was in their blood and it was where they would finish out their lives.

The other tiny hamlet, located four miles down Harper’s Slough, was Waukon Junction. It was so named because a branch of the railroad extended from there, about 20 miles to the county seat town of Waukon. Whereas Harper's Ferry might have had 100 residents, the Junction had, at most, 40 or 50. The railroad claimed most of the flat area between the bluffs for its tracks, sidings and round table, so the houses clung to the slopes. There was barely room beside the gravel road for the combination grocery store, gas pump and post office. This was the only place of business.

There was a one-room school house where one teacher taught all eight grades. Usually the teacher was a recent graduate of the High School Normal Training program. Older children attended high school in Waukon, a long bus ride away.

Medical attention was non-existent in either of the two little communities. There was local railroad passenger service from Waukon to Dubuque, but the trains on the main line of the Milwaukee Railroad roared by without stopping.

On the outskirts of Waukon Junction, pressed against the bluff, were the concrete remains of an iron smelter. It was abandoned after World War I. Rusting machinery poked up above lush undergrowth. A hotel had burned in a fire; all traces of it were gone.

The channel of the slough was wider and deeper here at the Junction, though not as great where it poured into the main channel of the Mississippi, a few miles farther downstream.

Some summer cottages perched on the bank of the channel. Most were not elaborate because the area was subject to frequent flooding. Many of them were raised on pilings.

The roads leading to the cottages were single lane dirt tracks, cut through forests of maple, oak and elm trees. The undergrowth was thick; so were the mosquitoes.

The river itself was muddy-brown, heavy laden with silt. It was three miles wide in most places. Channels were interspersed with wooded islands; water flowed swift and deep in the channels. Each had a name, like McDonalds Slough or Japan Slough. A river dweller knew them all. A visitor could and did get lost in there.

In fall the waters teemed with migratory birds. Deer crossed from island to island during the frozen winter, and always the majestic limestone cliffs and bluffs loomed over both sides of the Father of Waters. Autumn days were breathtaking with the beauty of crimson sumac, late blooming purple asters, and sunflowers, and an outrageous display of brown, green, orange, gold and red leaves of the deciduous trees against the background of towering white limestone, punctuated here and there by dark clefts in rocks and openings of shallow caves. Indian mounds were common on the grassy tops of the bluffs.

The river itself was heart and soul of the body of residents, whether they were summer visitors or lived there year-round. It was their livelihood, their recreation, their joy and the cause of their despair. As yet the river was untamed by locks and dams, which were built in the 1930’s to control flooding and maintain an eight-foot channel. The river mostly tolerated such man-made controls, but occasionally flexed its muscles to remind us who really did rule the way of the ancient flowing waters.

As the river traffic bypassed Harper's Slough, so the amenities of town life eluded the residents. The very fact of their chosen lifestyle branded them as characters. The less industrious folks were content to make do with the bare necessities. Determined parents made a go of it through long days of hard work. The kids pitched in to help. To the summer residents, accustomed to relative conveniences of a small town, the lack of running water, electricity and telephone was a venture into the past. To the permanent residents it was their way of life. Most had never known any other.

(About the Author: Joan Leschensky Grosshuesch grew up in Waukon. Her maternal great grandparents were early homesteaders in the area. Grosshuesch has made her home in Wisconsin for the last 47 years with her husband Ruben, who is a retired clergyman, in Sheboygan, WI. They are the parents of four adult children. Grosshuesch is the sister of John Leschensky of Waukon. Her parents were Emil and Clarice Dillenberg Leschensky.)