The Montana mystery of Warren County... part one

We like to say that Hidden New Jersey is often a scavenger hunt. Sometimes we know the quarry when we set out on our journey, as when we're seeking out a rare bird reported at a certain location. Other times, we find history along the way and end up discovering much more during the follow-up research days or even months later. Sometimes we unearth interesting coincidences, other times mysteries.

This story is a little of both.

It all started on a trip to the cemetery in Belvidere in late summer. Ivan and I were wandering around when I noticed interesting inscriptions on two stones, one a family marker and another for one of the family members, erected nearby.

Given the detailed description, the place and circumstances of Lieutenant Loder's death appeared clear. He'd taken part in the U.S. Army's repeated battles with the Sioux Indians, served gallantly and apparently perished in one of the skirmishes, his remains returned to his birthplace in New Jersey. It also appeared that his family called him Howard, perhaps to differentiate him from another Samuel, maybe his grandfather, buried nearby.

Then I found this grave marker, not far away, noting another individual's birthplace in Montana, NJ.

I was left with two stories to work out. First, how did Lieutenant Loder die, and second, where in heck is Montana in New Jersey? Was this just an odd coincidence, or do the two have anything to do with each other?

Finding cursory information on Loder proved to be reasonably easy. After graduating near the bottom of his class at the U.S. Military Academy in 1877, he was sent west and eventually assigned to Fort Logan in frontier Montana. At the time, clashes with Native Americans were regular occurrences in the area, with opportunities for injury and death. Several sources note the April 1879 conflict with a small group of Lakota Sioux at Careless Creek near Ryegate, Montana. According to government records, Loder, 18 men under his command and two Gros Ventre Indians confronted eight natives who were said to be connected to Sitting Bull. A 90 minute battle ensued, in which all of the Lakota were killed.

None of the accounts of ensuing conflicts in the area make mention of Loder, which seemed rather strange. If he'd performed so heroically at Careless Creek that the local white settlers presented him with a gift, wouldn't he have led other battles? Had he died some way other than through combat? The 1880 U.S. Army Register notes simply that he died at Fort Benton, Montana on June 30, 1879, with no further explanation. Could it have been illness that did him in? It's well known that in many wars, disease killed more soldiers than weapons did. Did frontier outposts suffer the same issues? Could there have been an outbreak of some sort that led to Loder's demise?

Unfortunately the circumstances of his death were tragic in another way. A July 6, 1879 New York Times article reported Loder's suicide as the lead in a story chronicling several people around the country who had died by their own hands. He'd shot himself in the head while in his tent at Fort Benton; the Times noted that "It is asserted that he had been drinking freely of late." It could have been an accident or intentional, we don't know. The details remain a mystery, perhaps buried somewhere in a report deep in old Army records, if not only with Loder himself.

The grateful people of the Smith River Valley in Montana territory didn't have the opportunity to show their full appreciation to the lieutenant before his death, but they made sure his family knew what he'd meant to them. A year later, they presented a ceremonial sword to the Loders, along with a letter eulogizing the young lieutenant. The sword was inscribed, "Presented to Lieut. Samuel Loder, Seventh United States Infantry, by the citizens of Smith River Valley, for especial gallantry in his fight with the Sioux Indians on Careless Creek, Montana Territory April 17, 1879." Hopefully their regard brought some measure of comfort to the Loder family, who clearly wanted their son's achievement to be known for perpetuity.

As for the mystery of Montana, New Jersey? I'm still working on that one... story to come.

Visiting Belvidere's Shoe Tree (not that kind)

While researching Belvidere for a blog post on our Uncle Buck's dining experience earlier this year, I discovered a historic site that we hadn't been made aware of when we were downtown in the county seat. A trip to the Four Sisters Winery this weekend gave us an opportunity to stop back and check it out.

Yes, my friends, we visited the legendary 350 year old Shoe Tree Oak. It's not quite as old as the mighty Salem Oak, but it's remarkable in its own way.

I'd assumed that befitting its stature, there would be signs pointing us in the direction of the tree, but we were sorely disappointed to find that wasn't the case. Fortunately I'd remembered it was on Oxford Street, which we found after a bit of driving around (note to the Garmin people: this site must be added to your maps!). It didn't take long before I spotted the mighty oak, slightly jutting out from the curb in front of a well-kept home. According to my earlier research, there was talk of taking the tree down when the street was widened some years ago, but concerned citizens intervened and the oak was saved for future generations.

Despite my pleading,
Ivan refused to change his shoes.

Beyond its age, what makes this oak so remarkable? It's a living link to an earlier time, when Belvidere was less developed and most people didn't have cars. According to legend, the Shoe Tree Oak is where the country folk would stop to put on their shoes on their way to church in town. I don't know for sure, but I'd venture that they were wearing their Sunday best and didn't want to wear out their nice shoes too quickly.

Today, the tree is apparently healthy and long-lived, and its location just into the street creates a very nice parking place for visitors. A historical marker tells the story of the tree for passers by.

While we were there taking pictures and checking it out, a man from the house was watering his garden. For a moment I considered asking him about the tree and whether the privilege of having it in front of his house weighed heavily on him and his family. Does the tree create a raking issue in the fall? Does it leave sap on his car windows? Then I realized that he deserved his privacy despite living behind such a historic place. They must get several visitors a year asking about the tree, after all.

The tree also lent its name to the nearby Shoe Tree Deli, which, unfortunately for us, is closed (we needed coffee and lots of it). A quick search found that it's on sale for $325,000, including the gas pumps. Here's your chance to own a footnote to history!

Dining over the Pequest? Check out Uncle Buck's

Ravenous after exploring the birds of the Delaware Water Gap, we set the GPS to our next destination and agreed to see what the fates would present us along the way.

I drove a bit too quickly along rural Route 46 in Warren County, meaning we missed an opportunity to roll into a rustic drive-through somewhere south of Buttzville. Ivan declined my offer to turn around, noting that something else would make itself known soon enough. Knowing how rare it is to find a place along 46 on that stretch, I had my doubts, but then I also wasn't really sure what route the GPS would take us on. Faith is sometimes just a horse with wings. Besides, if the talking road map was right, we'd be in Phillipsburg within a half hour, anyway.

Things started looking up when we got off the 'main' road and found our way to Belvidere. It's the Warren County seat, so there had to be good options there, right?

We found it, just a few hundred yards down from where the Pequest River feeds into the Delaware: The Original Uncle Buck's Diner. With visions of a tasty lunch and John Candy dancing in our heads, we quickly found a parking spot and walked on in.

Uncle Buck's is the classic storefront diner/luncheonette, but half cantilevered over a spillway on the rushing Pequest. We were hoping for a river-view table and got it, as it was a little past the lunchtime rush and the only other patrons were a few couples of older folks socializing at a corner table.

While it's not a classic manufactured railroad-car type diner, Uncle Buck's seems to be a close spiritual cousin in its layout. Everything's there, just kinda mushed in, as Ivan found out on a trip to the restroom. In getting there, you walk right next to an industrial-grade stove/oven, down a short corridor past the dishwashing station. Without intending to, you could very easily become part of the operation of the place, just by making a wrong turn.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself. We seated ourselves and started leafing through the menus that were thoughtfully already on the table. They weren't huge but had all of the diner staples. Breakfast all day? Check. Happy Waitress special? Check. Burgers? Check, check, check. They even had a burger special that included the always-desirable Taylor ham as a topping.

I was half tempted to order the Happy Waitress, but then our human waitress showed up and seemed to be channeling all the happiness in Warren County. Boy, was she cheerful! Instead, I went for the bacon cheeseburger, Ivan got a Swiss burger and we split an order of gravy fries.

Yum on all counts. Both of us ordered our burgers cooked medium, and when Ivan lifted his off the plate, it dripped a pleasant few drops of beef juice. Looked a lot like the way I generally cook mine at home. When I bit into mine, I found the center was cooked just enough, with a little bit of pink still showing. And instead of being melted on the patty, two slides of cheese were placed on the insides of the bun. Only thing it could have used was some lettuce and tomato, but then I might have inadvertently not seen the deluxe version on the menu.

The fries came as we were enjoying our burgers. Straight-cut versus crinkle cut, they stood up nicely to the lumpy and very flavorful gravy. Yeah, the bottom-most fries were a bit mushy, but that's to be expected after being smothered.

To sum up, it was a satisfying meal and Uncle Buck's is a great find we'll keep on the short list for future visits to the area. After all, we'll need to grab another hearty lunch after visiting the shoe tree oak.