PART I: What the Heck Is Going on in This World?



This has been the saddest Thanksgiving week I’ve know, I think, since 1963.  It has been one of those weeks where the vileness of life has interfered with what should be a celebration of gladness and thanks.  As the week has progressed it has regressed into the most stunning display of human depravity I’ve had the misfortune to be forced to comprehend in a very long time.

We all think we know why Islamic terrorists do that thing that they do.  It is their “religion”.  Does anyone have the courage to just come out and say they have been de-humanized to the point where they are basically animals in human clothing?  Are we truly stopping to examine why something about their society allows the “animalification” of people?  What is going on in their religion?  What vile illness allows a “person” to walk up to someone completely innocent and blow their brains out, then think they are going to paradise for their action?

The Muslim culture wasn’t always like this.  The extremists were held at bay.  Oh, heck, we all know what happened.  Jimmy Carter let the evil genie out of the bottle and we’ve been paying for it ever since. May God preserve us from the bumbling stupidity of well-meaning idiots.  And now we have another one heading down the path to glory.  Extreme Islam is a cult.  What makes the culture so susceptible to violence?  is it possible that their culture is not as enlightened or civilized as is our Western Culture?

Why must we be subjected to the constant denigration of our culture?

I am a Christian.  I am a proud Christian.  I am a descendent of an encyclopedia of the who’s who of British Blue Bloods.  I am proud of my history and my culture, and the fact that I had an ancestor who proudly fought at Henry’s side at Agincourt and was knighted for saving his life.  I am proud of my half a dozen or so Mayflower ancestors.

Do you know about anything about the Puritans?

They did not believe in adultery.  Marriages were civil unions not religious unions.  It was better to divorce than commit adultery.  It was okay to have three or four divorces and remarry.  Does that sound self-righteous and “Puritanical”?

Do you know that the first feminists came out of Puritan New England?

Do you know that child abuse was one of the worst sins?  Every 10 families had someone who would check in on them – and make sure the children were not molested.  They had to be well fed, clothed, and every child – girls included – were forced to attend school, like it or not.  Education was for everyone, girls included.

Yes, I am proud of my Puritan ancestors.  I am proud of Hannah Dustin, who in 1690 (or so) took out half a tribe of “native peoples” and scalped them for her freedom.  Yea, I know it was cruel, but they should not have raped her and bashed her week old infant’s head against a tree killing him.  You can rant and rave all you want about the cruel “white man” who stole their land.

I’ve reached the point where I don’t think there was much difference in the marauding and murdering “native peoples” than Islamic Terrorists.

There, I said it.

Murder is murder.

You see, you can’t excuse one act of terror because the monstrous perps were simply – oppressed.

Terror is terror.

Murder is murder.

We are taught to feel sorry for the murderers of 3 generations of my family in 1862 Minnesota.

“HL history: Dustin Massacre witness speaks

This is an article from an early 1900s issue of the Howard Lake Herald.

By Fred Ceser

The only remaining witness of the many events of the tragedy (Dustin Massacre) tells the story.

I will now try to give you a correct history of the killing of the Dustin family.

John Morris, Daniel Means, William Gess, and myself started out for Kingston hunting ginseng.

Near Swan Lake, we divided; Jack Morris and William Gess going on the south side of the lake.

In the afternoon, about two or three o’clock, we returned to the lake weary and thirsty, and there being a spring nearby, we went and knelt down to drink.

While drinking, a gun was heard fired and buckshot flew all around us, but neither of us was injured. Mr. Means spoke, “There are Indians,” and I asked him how he knew.

We got up and went into a large willow bush and from there watched from where the shots were being fired. We saw an Indian rise up from out of a patch of cane near Sucker creek, the inlet of Swan Lake. He was about two hundred yards from us, but we could see him plainly.

“Dan” said to kill him but we had only one muzzle-loading gun and the ramrod was broken, so I said to Dan, “If I kill him, there is hard telling how many there are here,” so we decided not to do it, thinking it best to return to camp and meet the other two, Jack Morris and William Gess.

While making our escape from the willow bush, another shot was fired by the same Indian, the shots flying all around us like beans, but we escaped safely.

After searching the camp for the other two, Jack and Bill also returned. It was getting to be supper time. We asked them what they had seen and they answered, “Tracks of Indians.”

Then we told them that we had seen an Indian and he had fired at us, so we all decided it was best to move that night, this being about sunset.

The house we had been camping in was built by Mr. Airs. After going a mile from our shanty we turned to look back, only to find that it had been set on fire.

We were driving a team of oxen, so William and Jack drove and Dan and I walked ahead about a quarter of a mile. Going down a hill in the woods, we spied a deer standing in a marsh, and I shot him.

Dan gave an Indian whoop when he fell, and I told him, “Now you have done it, for you have frightened the other boys. They will think it is Indians.”

We waited for the team to come, but waited in vain, for no team came, so we turned back to find the boys. We found the team, but the boys had fled, thinking there were Indians.

We called for them, but got no answer, but finally found them lying behind a log in the woods. I asked Bill why he ran, and he said he thought the Indians had killed us. We gathered our belongings up, and started to land at what is known as Mooers Prairie, where Henry Mooers still resides, telling him our story, but he could not believe that there were Indians around.

We went home to Howard Lake that same night. The was on a Thursday evening and as I had decided to go to Watertown to the fair on Saturday, I went to call on Mr. Morris that evening, he having owed me some money I wanted to get.

While waiting at his house I heard someone talking and Jack Morris came up to the house for his gun. I asked, “What is the matter Jack?” He replied, “The Indians have killed the Dustin family.” I asked him how he knew, and he told me that their oxen returned and were all bloody, so we set out to find them.

Mr. Lindsley and Mr. Cochran took the old road and Mr. Morris and myself cut across where Mr. Miles Wegner now resides. When Mr. Kingsley and Mr. Cochran got opposite Doyle’s store they came back and stopped us, telling us that they had seen an Indian. So the four of us together walked down to where they had seen the Indian.

There was a drove of cattle and a dog jumped up and went for them. Said I, “That is the Dustin dog,” so on reaching the place, we found Mrs. Dustin and the two children, they having walked there from the McCallie place after Mrs. Dustin had been shot thru her back, the arrow coming thru her stomach.

I ran back to the house and got a blanket, in which we carried Mrs. Dustin. I took the baby boy and gun on my arm, the little girl being able to walk. We took them to the home of Mr. Cochran where Mr. Lafayette Morgan now resides.

That night, we gave the alarm and got a hundred men and started out to find the rest of the family. We fund three dead bodies in the wagon, Mr. Dustin was lying in the front seat, shot thru the heart by an arrow and his left hand cut off and an arrow in his cheek.

His mother was sitting in the back seat, her face being pounded and cut up so that she could hardly be recognized and her hand also cut off.

Her son, a boy of about 12 years of age, was also shot thru the heart. The remains were placed in coffins and set to Waverly for burial.

Fifty men returned to their homes and the remaining number went to Mooers Prairie. Mrs. Dustin lived a day and a half after being shot.

This was the only family killed around there because the Indians had a grudge against them, for when out hunting they would stop there and ask for food which was refused. So telling Mr. Dustin they would remember them, they departed, returning later to murder them.

The part I crossed out is not true.  I have the original letter written by one of the people in the rescue party.  The final paragraph is an addition that is not in the original version.  Fascinating, isn’t it.  We’re talking revisionism.  It gives the terrorists and excuse for their barbaric actions.  How about a different version of the story?

“…If the fright of 1862 was a panic, that of 1863 was a reign of terror, and marks a melancholy era in the history of this and other counties; in this, because within its borders a family classed among its earliest settlers and pioneers, were well nigh swept away before the pitiless rage of the murderous Sioux. The excitement following the news of this outrage caused another exodus. Many of the families never returned, while of those who, a few weeks later ventured back, many found only ruined crops and desolate homes. THE DUSTIN MASSACRE. — The particulars of this pitiless slaughter, concerning which many erroneous statements have been published, are gathered with much care from surviving members of the family, and neighbors who assisted in the search for, and burial of the victims. In the spring of 1857, Mrs. Jeannette Dustin and family came here from New York, and took a claim on section twenty-four, in the present town of Marysville, now known as the Bland farm. About two years later they sold this claim to Mr. Beatle, and located on what is known as the Quinn farm, not far from Montrose, and later, to a claim 
on Mooers Prairie, now Stockholm, four or five 
miles from the village of Cokato. Mrs. Dustin 
was the widow of Moses Dustin, who died about 
three years before her coming to Minnesota. The 
children were: Amos, Nathan, Timothy, Dallas, 
Arabella, and an elder daughter, the wife of A. D. 
Kingsley, an early settler at Waverly Mills, and 
now of French Lake. 
In June, 1863, Mrs. Dustin visited her daughter, 
Mrs. Kingsley, then at Waverly Mills, and remained 
nursing her during an illness of two 
weeks or more. On the 29th of June, she started 
for home, with her son Amos, his wife and three 
children, who were about to settle near the others 
at Mooers Prairie. They went with an ox-team 
and common lumber wagon, and late in the afternoon, 
when near Smith Lake, were attacked by a 
party of Indians who killed Mrs. Jeannette Dustin, 
Amos, and his son Robert, in the wagon in 
which all were riding at time of the attack. Mrs. 
Amos Dustin, formerly Miss Kate Miller, was shot 
in the back with an arrow, which passed through 
her body, protruding from her breast. She fell 
forward and was left for dead. Alma, her daughter, 
then a child of about seven years, was hidden 
in the wagon partially beneath the dead body of 
her father, and escaped notice. The youngest son, 
Albert, then a child some three years of age, 
was taken from the wagon and left upon the 
ground unharmed. Why he was thus left is only 
accounted for by the settlers of that time, upon 
the hypothesis that the starvation or destruction 
by wild beasts to which he was thus exposed, 
offered the most cruel torture with which to close 
their work of blood. After mutilating the bodies 
of the murdered, and plundering the wagon, the 
Indians departed, leaving the dead and dying to 
their fate. Mrs. Dustin soon rallied, and summoning 
all her strength, started with her two terror- 
stricken children to seek the shelter of some 
friendly cabin. Poor, suffering mother! Wounded, 
bleeding, and faint — clinging to her orphaned 
babes, though racked with cruel pain, and with 
the fatal arrow yet piercing her flesh, what, save 
the intensity of a mother’s love, could sustain her 
in this terrible hour of fear, and pain, and horror ! 
But even this fervor could not long withstand the 
fatal drain, and with failing sight and sense, she 
wandered from the pathway, and there, in the dim 
old forest, shrouded by the murky shadows of 
night, the weary, suffering mother lay down to die. At the time of the attack, the team being frightened, had left the road, broken loose from the wagon, and started back, stopping at the residence of Mr. A. E. Cochran, whose suspicions were aroused, and who, not hearing from the family, proceeded next morning to the mills, summoned Mr. A. D. Kingsley, Henry Lammers, and others, and all returned to Mr. Cochran’ s, from whence they proceeded westward along the route taken by the family the day previous. A little to the west of Howard lake, and not far from the margin of its waters, a dog belonging to the family was discovered, and soon after, the two children, who were wandering about in search of water. Near by, in a clump of willows, lay the suffering mother, still conscious, and in the full possession of her mental faculties. From her they learned the fate of the others, and messengers were dispatched to Water- town and Eockford to notify the settlers, and also claim their assistance. The murdered victims were removed to the old Waverly mills and buried in a beautiful grove on the right bank of the stream forming the outlet to Little Waverly lake, near the present residence of O. W. Bonniwell. Mrs. Dustiu was taken to the residence of Mr. Oochran and given every possible attention, but to little purpose. The fatal anow had done its work. She lived to tell the story of the bloody tragedy, but the day after being found, death, more merciful than her murderers, kindly ended her sufferings. She was buried with the others, and with them lie also the remains of Mrs. Kingsley, her four children, and Nathan Dustin. who died from the effects of exposure while scouting for Indians after the murder of his friends. Mrs. Dustin recognized Little Crow, his son, and three others in the attacking party. Timothy, Dallas, and Arabella, who were at the home on Mooers Prairie, were not disturbed, but after the murder, removed to the settlement east as did others in the vicinity. Dallas Dustin is now in Nebraska, Timothy, and Arabella, (now Mrs. C. Meyers) are living near Bonniwell’s Mills, and the children of Amos, in Hennepin county, Alma in Minneapolis, and Albert in the town of Plymouth. When Mr. O. W. Bonniwell purchased the mill property and farm at Waverly Mills, the plat where the Dustin family lie buried was reserved. and is still sacredly kept as a token of respect for the departed, and a sorrowful reminder of the terror and tragedy of the year 1863. The spot 1 where the murder occurred, and where the bodies were found, is on the eastern margin of Smith Lake,492 HISTORY OP THE UPPER MISSISSIPPI VALLEY….”

This is a photo of Alma, taken 10 years later, in her wedding dress.  She was adopted by a wealthy family and treated like a princess.  She lived until 1944.

Now, read how Little Crow is glorified.

“…In 1937, the city of Hutchinson erected a large bronze statue of Little Crow in a spot overlooking the Crow River near the Main Street bridge access to the downtown business district. In 1982, the artist of the original statue, Les Kouba, created an updated statue; the original statue is now at the McLeod County Historical Society and the new statue still overlooks the Crow River….”

His death is treated as a murder, with the poor man and his sons foraging for food.

“…Deciding that the tribe must adopt a mobile existence, having been robbed of its territory, he returned to steal horses from his former land in Minnesota. On July 3, 1863, while he and his son Wowinapa were foraging for berries in a farmer’s field, they were spotted by the landowner Nathan Lampson and his son. The four engaged in a brief firefight in which Little Crow fired twice, once wounding the elder Lampson. Lampson and his son both shot and mortally wounded Little Crow. The chief then told his son to flee. Lampson’s son then ran for nearly 12 miles to Hutchinson, Minnesota to gather a search-and-recovery party. The townspeople quickly departed to find a wounded Lampson and a dead and unidentified Dakota man. When they discovered the latter was Little Crow, they mutilated and displayed the body….”

Our culture is so politically correct, I cannot sell an article about the terrorist murder of my family by the heroic icon Little Crow.  I have all the original letters, reports, and articles.  The first passage I quoted is NOTHING like the original story.  In fact, the family had been known to feed anyone who would come to their door, no matter who.  They were at Kate’s family’s home for lunch.  A military escort was on the way to take them to their new home, but Amos was impatient, and wanted to get to their new home before dark.  This is the text of the historical marker.

“… Friction and local outbreaks of violence,spurred by the whites’ growing intolerance of the Indians and Dakotas’ increasing disrespect for the United States government, created an inflammable situation. . . .[In] August, 1862, driven by hunger and disgusted by unfulfilled promises, the Dakota attacked settlements in the Minnesota River Valley in what rapidly became a desperate attempt to drive the whites out of southern Minnesota. The Dakota War of 1862lasted only a few weeks, but it had far-reaching repercussions for Indian-white relations in the three decades that followed. The death of about 500 whites and the widespread destruction of property evoked cries for the removal, if not the extermination, of all Dakota from the state. . . . From a population of upward of 7,000, the number of Dakota in Minnesota dropped to 374 in 1866 (Rubenstein and Woolworth 1981:22-23).Text of Boulder Marker”Dustin Massacre 1863. Dustin family killed here by Indians. June 29, 1863.”Text of Wooden Marker”This stone, which was located 500 yards to the north, is the original marker inscribed by early settlers to commemorate the Dustin tragedy.”Text of Metal Plaque on Stone Marker”The Dustin Massacre””A State of terror prevailed on the Minnesota western frontier for many months after the Sioux Uprising of 1862. Roving bands of Sioux continued to elude pursuers and attack settlers. The Dustin Massacre occurred on June 29, 1863, one third mile northwest of this spot.”Amos Dustin was moving his family to a new claim in the southwestern part of Wright County. There were six in the party: Amos Dustin, his wife Kate, their three children, Alma6, Robert 4, and Albert 2, and Dustin’s widowed mother, Mrs. Jeanette Dustin. Their wagon was drawn by an ox team. A party of Indians fell upon them from ambush, shot three to death with arrows, and mortally wounded a fourth. Alma and Albert were left unharmed.The victims are buried in a cemetery at Waverly.”It has always been believed, although never proved, that the massacre was perpetrated by members of Little Crow’s party who were in the vicinity at the time. Four days later Little Crow was shot and killed near Hutchinson while picking berries with a son.””Erected by the Wright County Historical Society June 29, 1963.” [Seals of the Minnesota Historical Society and Minnesota Department of Highways]…”

Have you noticed the revisionist history?  Now my family are the bad people and Little Crow is a historic figure. I am writing this for a very specific reason.  You will see what I am doing in Part II, that will appear on the morrow.

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