New Glarus Historical Society and the Swiss Historical Village

Nestled in the rolling green hills of Green County Wisconsin, sits the quaint village of New Glarus. Proclaiming itself as America’s little Switzerland, the downtown resembles a series high roofed chalets rather than tar-papered brick structures ubiquitous in small towns. The landscape pales compared to the snow-capped mountains in the Swiss Canton of Glarus from which the town’s first settlers came but New Glarus has never forgotten its roots. The ornate Gothic typeface Fraktur which fell out of favor in the Germanies shortly before World War II peppers storefronts selling Swiss foods or knickknacks. Not all goods are created equal as far as their authenticity is concerned; it is an open secret that a bygone bride shortage caused rampant Scandinavian inter-marriage. Non-Swiss residents, drawn by the enthusiasm and environment of the town, continue to arrive at odd intervals but like in any small town they serve an informal probationary period before they are adopted.

A few blocks west of Highway 69, bisecting the small but lively downtown, lies the Swiss Historical Village maintained by the local historical society. A Swiss village at the edge of a Swiss village, authentic and authentically reproduced settlement structures abut the Swiss Cemetery and educate tourists, many of them Swiss nationals, of the transcendent American spirit of exploration and hardship.

Tucked above and below the village’s gift shop are the Historical Society’s heart. Inaccessible to most visitors, I needed to enlist the credibility of the Swiss Center of North America’s President and former local news anchor Beth Zurbuchen on Durst Road to gain access.

The first items which caught my eye were the metal edged stacks of original New Glarus newspapers. I immediately noticed the German language newspaper Deutsch Schweizerzerischer Courier changed its name to the New Glarus Post shortly after the Great War, switching not only its language but typeface as well.

My inner student archivist could not help but marvel at the well intentioned but seemingly haphazard cataloging and preservation. Newspapers were laid flat between non-acidic tissue paper in metal edged boxes while heavy Swiss 78 rpm records were stacked, harming their grooves. Many photographs are cataloged and arranged by subject but photos of the annual William Tell play were simply placed in a box.

I immediately recognized the name on the stylized family tree nearby. Going back into the 17^th century, the tree is too complex for me to find the leaves representing the famous Dürst family that settled in New Glarus in the 19^th. I remember the traveling trunk sitting on display in the Swiss Center of North America with “Dürst” fastidiously hand painted in Fraktur. Its literal weight sinks into my consciousness as I try to fathom carrying my worldly possessions to an unknown land; suddenly the sturdy, metal braced trunk seems so fragile. This moment of reflection is banished when I again wonder how Durst Road, which is also the Swiss Center’s street, is unrelated to the members on that tree. Perhaps it is but street signs are not allowed to have non-English characters; that would be a true shame since “Dürst” without the umlaut means “thirst,” very apropos for any street adjacent to the legendary New Glarus Brewery.

The basement houses their rotating objects collection. Cold and dry compared to the upper floor, the care and cataloging is more evident. Items donated by the community include shadow boxes of war medals, 19^th century firearms, musical instruments, and their newest, unprocessed acquisition—a bell from the Swiss Reformed church. Having become the United Church of Christ in the 1960s, the new church would have no use for an instrument engraved with the Swiss Reformed identifiers. I noticed thumbnail-sized gems encircling these Swiss Reformed markings and quickly realized they were not original; my guide could not tell me who donated the bell.

Evidently someone in the donor’s family felt the pristine instrument was not pretty enough and so bedazzled it with a dozen pieces of costume jewelry. It was upon this conjecture that I understood the position of this place; since they were charged with the preservation of the village’s history and culture, they accepted countless small donations from the community because few else would.

Every picture and object indicated their commitment to maintain the uniqueness of their town. A Swiss-German is a political and ethnic distinction rather than a racial one yet the New Glarners sustained themselves and their identities across the Alps, an ocean, half a continent, and within an enveloping immigrant population. The archive above the gift shop held the spirit of New Glarus as if some kind of reliquary; the uniqueness of the town and its community—and thus the tourist draw—is sustained by the psychic power of the archive.

My heart sank as I left. As a proud Minnesotan I never allowed myself the spiritual comfort of belonging to this state but New Glarus sneaked into my unguarded soul. For that brief moment I too was born in Wisconsin.

[Post created by Alex Champion]