The War Over Peace

The War Over Peace

On the morning of Nov. 22, 1912, the “Rouse Simmons” set off in light snow flurries from Thompson Harbor, Mich., fully loaded with around 4,000 Christmas trees. The ship was headed for Chicago, but never got there. By the following afternoon, the snowy winds had intensified, and the ship was spotted off Kewaunee, Wis., flying a distress flag with sails tattered. It soon vanished. Scattered evergreens later washed up on shore, as did a bottle with a note from Capt. Herman Schuenemann: “I guess we are thru. Leaking bad. Endwald and Steve fell overboard. God help us.” Over the years,…


On the morning of Nov. 22, 1912, the “Rouse Simmons” set off in light snow flurries from Thompson Harbor, Mich., fully loaded with around 4,000 Christmas trees. The ship was headed for Chicago, but never got there.

By the following afternoon, the snowy winds had intensified, and the ship was spotted off Kewaunee, Wis., flying a distress flag with sails tattered. It soon vanished. Scattered evergreens later washed up on shore, as did a bottle with a note from Capt. Herman Schuenemann: “I guess we are thru. Leaking bad. Endwald and Steve fell overboard. God help us.”

Over the years, “The Christmas Tree Ship” has become one of the most beloved stories of Great Lakes tragedy, with books, songs, plays and movies dedicated to its tale. But the story is merely one among many in the Great Lakes Marine Collection on the second floor of the Milwaukee Public Library’s central branch. Its collection is almost as vast and deep as the lakes themselves, with primary source material on more than 7,000 ships.

“We’re the source of Great Lakes history,” says Jack Godden, curator of the Wisconsin Marine Historical Society, which co-maintains the collection with the library.

The heart of the collection was willed to the library in 1959 by Herman Runge, an obsessive collector of data on Great Lakes ships. He dedicated 70 years of his life accumulating 36,000 handwritten cards, often trimmed from scrap paper or the backs of random photos. In dark, precise writing, he recorded dimensions, tonnage, engine type, ownership and more.

Volunteers from the historical society are still cataloging his original clippings, and the highly acidic paper is yellowed and crumbling. Meanwhile, the catalog is making its way into the 21st century: An archive index is now available on a computer and should be online soon.

“Milwaukee has a fabulous marine history, but we’ve neglected it,” Godden says.

The collection attracts historians, sailors and researchers, but Godden says that without the patronage of divers, it “probably would have starved to death.” An estimated 4,000 to 5,000 sunken crafts rest on the bottom of the Great Lakes, and divers use the archives to locate ships and learn about their cargos and history.

Divers also bring back new info. Kimm Stabelfeldt of Wauwatosa, the author of five popular dive books, has been exploring Great Lakes shipwrecks for 30 years and coordinates an annual Ghost Ships Festival in Milwaukee that draws hundreds of divers. Many, he says, come to town early for research at the library.

“We get world recognition,” says Suzette Lopez, executive director of the historical society. “It seems to be known everywhere but Milwaukee, sometimes.”