DJJD: History Lives at the Northfield Historical Society

For the thousands who flock to Northfield for , the experience has the atmosphere of a mini-state fair—sampling greasy food, carnival rides, the wares of local artists and contests—all in homage to the demise of that infamous gang.

For those who found their way to the reception Thursday evening, it was a chance to experience the heart and soul of this community that pulled together to throw off the threat and reflect on the survival of that same pioneer spirit.

Like native New Yorkers who have never visited the Statue of Liberty, many Northfielders have passed the ancient Scriver Building, home of the NHS and the original First National Bank building that was the gang’s target.

At Thursday night’s reception—accompanied by home-made canapés, quickbreads and watermelon-pomegranate punch—scores of celebrants viewed the artifacts and photographs of victims, perpetrators and legions of living re-enactors, some of whom have roots reaching back to those dark post-Civil War days.

It was an opportunity to hear from NHS President Scott Richardson that the NHS fundraising for its accessibility makeover has been successful, that the popular Cemetery Stories tour will be held again this year, and that a new exhibit is being created to celebrate the 100th anniversary of , featuring its world-famous choir.

It was also an opportunity to view one’s self and one’s community through the lens of history—a process the NHS holds as an almost sacred trust, reflected in its many programs and projects.

One must look closely—with empathy and imagination—to see that history is not merely a museum diorama but a window on the world.

Joseph Lee Haywood, the quiet bank teller who protected the vault while Northfield residents organized resistance outside; Henry Wheeler, a medical student, and J.S. Allen famously warned “Get your guns, boys, they’re robbing the bank.”

It doesn’t take too long a look at the menacing arsenal of archaic six-guns and rifles to realize this took a great deal more courage than merely dialing 911.

Heywood’s visage is ubiquitous in advertisements for DJJD; it bespeaks a calm, centered courage. But studying the portraits of his wife and 5-year-old daughter might make one wonder how she felt about his brave sacrifice.

Nicolaus Gustafson was a new immigrant from Sweden who was killed because he didn’t understand the outlaws’ command in English to halt. He would have been forgotten (and—Uf-da!—buried as a Norwegian) if the hunger for history the NHS reflects not restored him, in the spirit of our town’s slogan: “Northfield: A Special Place.”