Cass City Minute

05/01/2026

Today in Cass City History — April 30, 1934
Ninety-two years ago, Cass City voters had a bond issue on the calendar.
In the Cass City Chronicle, April 20, 1934, readers were reminded that information about the bond issue “to be voted on Monday, April 30” could be found in that week’s paper. One week later, in the April 27, 1934 issue, the town was still moving along in that familiar small-town rhythm — notices, farm sales, local news, and important decisions waiting at the ballot box.
It is easy to read an old notice like that and pass right over it. But every bond vote tells a story.
It tells us what a community was thinking about, what it needed, what it hoped to build, and what people were being asked to support. Behind a few lines in an old newspaper were real conversations happening at kitchen tables, in stores, on farms, and along Main Street.
And here’s what makes that little piece of history feel especially close to home:
Cass City has another bond vote coming up this year.
On Tuesday, May 5, 2026, Cass City Public Schools has a Bond Renewal Proposal on the ballot. According to the school district, the proposal is for up to $10,000,000 for projects including school building additions and remodeling, safety and security improvements, instructional technology, athletic fields and facilities, playgrounds, sites, and school buses. Voting is scheduled from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m.
Different year. Different needs. Different buildings. Different generation.
But the same familiar pattern remains: Cass City residents reading the notice, talking it over, weighing the future, and heading to the polls.
History is not always found in big dramatic moments. Sometimes it is found in a simple election notice — a reminder that communities are built one decision at a time.
Do you remember past Cass City school bond votes or local issues that had the whole town talking?

04/30/2026

In 1915, Elizabeth H. Fenn put into verse what a lot of Cass City folks still feel today:
“Could live anywhere… but we’re glad we live in the Thumb.”
Her poem, “Cass City Folks,” appeared in the Cass City Chronicle on April 16, 1915, and it reads like an early love letter to this part of Michigan. She wrote about the state shaped like a mitten, the pride of the Thumb, the farms, the people, the ideas, and even the “beans, beets, hay and brains” growing here.
Elizabeth H. Fenn was more than just a name under a poem. She appears to have been Elizabeth Persis Hawley Fenn, wife of Rev. James W. Fenn, and one of those early local voices who helped capture Cass City’s spirit in print.
Over 100 years later, the poem still feels familiar: pride in a small town, pride in the Thumb, and the belief that the future here could be even brighter than the past.
What line would you add today about Cass City folks?

04/29/2026

The Seegers: The Family Whose Land Became Cass City

Before Cass City had a village government, it had a plat. And before it had that plat, it had Seeger land.

In 1867, the John C. Seeger estate was platted, and the town was legally named Cass City. The original plat was received for record on September 20, 1867, at 8:00 a.m. The official statement was made by Andrew F. Segar, administrator of the estate of John C. Segar, who adopted the plat and dedicated the streets, alleys, highways, and public grounds for public use.

In the old records, the name appears more than one way: Seeger, Segar, and Seegar.

That first plat gave Cass City its legal shape.
But the Seeger story is not just a land record.
It is also a story of families coming into the Thumb when this area was still woods, hardship, and uncertainty.

In a 1941 Cass City Chronicle article, Rosa Seeger Scriver remembered the early days of Cass City. The paper said Rosa was born in Lancaster, New York, on April 28, 1858, and came to this area with her parents when she was only six months old.
The article says her parents, Mr. and Mrs. W. C. Seeger, carried all their belongings from Vassar to Cass City on their backs.

That one sentence says a lot.

Before the stores, churches, sidewalks, schools, and familiar streets, there were people walking into the woods with what they could carry.
Rosa remembered her father clearing a place to build their home. She also remembered that her playmates for many years were Indigenous children. The Chronicle reported that Indigenous families were good friends of the Seeger family.
One memory from that article stands out.
When an Indigenous chief saw the Seeger children going barefoot in the snow, he offered to make them moccasins.

That is the kind of detail that turns history from names and dates into real life. Cold feet. Children playing. Families helping families in a place that was still becoming a town.

The Seeger name also appears in Cass City’s earliest school memories. A 1956 Chronicle article reprinted an older account of a little log schoolhouse that stood near what became Cass City. In that account, Christopher, Michael, and Rosa Seeger were named among the early scholars.

So before Cass City had the village we recognize today, Seeger children were already part of its earliest school story.

The family name remained tied to the map as the village grew.

In 1873, Seeger’s Addition added twelve blocks to the growing community. A 1937 Chronicle article later stated that Seeger Street was named after Andrew Seeger, who platted the southeastern addition known as Seeger’s Addition.

The Seeger name also appears in one of the hardest chapters in Thumb history: the fires of 1881.
Cass City history lists Andrew Seeger’s house and barn among the losses during the great fire period. The Thumb fires brought terrible destruction across the region, and Cass City and Elkland Township did not escape untouched. One uploaded fire clipping describes the disaster across Huron, Sanilac, and Tuscola counties as a terrible loss of property and human life.

That means the Seeger story was not only about land being divided into lots.

It was also about loss, rebuilding, and staying.

By 1930, another Seeger chapter was still being remembered by neighbors. The Cass City Chronicle reported that Andrew and Mary Ann Seeger celebrated their golden wedding anniversary on October 7, 1930. About 50 relatives, neighbors, and friends surprised them at their home on North Seeger Street.
The paper said they had been well-known residents of the Cass City community for 44 years. They had married in Lancaster, New York, in 1880, moved to a farm in Greenleaf Township, and later built their home on North Seeger Street.

At that anniversary gathering, Allen Barnes, a former neighbor of the Seeger family, gave a talk about early days and called them “dear old neighbors.”
But there was sorrow in the family story too.
Andrew and Mary Ann’s son, Arthur Seeger, died in France during World War I. In 1919, the Chronicle reported that the family received letters about Arthur’s death from a U.S. Army chaplain and from Arthur’s bunkmate.

Those letters brought the war back home to Cass City.

So when we say the Seegers were the family whose land became Cass City, we are not just talking about property.

We are talking about people.
A family name on the first plat.
Children in a log schoolhouse.
Parents carrying belongings through the Thumb.
Indigenous neighbors remembered with kindness.
A home and barn lost in the fires.
A street that still carries the name.
Neighbors who remembered them as dear old friends. And a son who never came home alive from France.

Cass City did not begin with just one person.
But if you ask whose name is written into the village’s earliest ground, streets, and memory, the Seegers belong near the beginning of the story.

Did you grow up near Seeger Street, or have you ever heard any old family stories connected to the Seeger name in Cass City?

04/27/2026

The One-Mile Road That Helped Change Michigan

Horatio S. Earle had a dream for Michigan roads.

People called him “Good Roads” Earle, and in 1905, that dream came right through Elkland Township, just east of Cass City.

Before paved highways and easy daily travel, many local roads were little more than rutted wagon roads. Rain, mud, snow, and spring thaw could make travel slow and miserable. But Earle believed better roads could connect farms, families, businesses, and entire communities.

That is where Cass City enters the story.

In 1905, Elkland Township became the first municipality in Michigan to receive a state reward for improving a local road to state standards. The township spent $985 to widen the road to nine feet and gravel one mile between the corner of Elkland Cemetery and what later became Crawford Road. When the work was finished, the state paid the township a $500 reward.

That one mile became known as State Reward Gravel Road No. 1.

The Cass City Chronicle, on August 31, 1917, covered the dedication of the Earle monument and called him the “Father of the State Reward Highway Plan.” The monument marked the westerly end of State Reward Gravel Road No. 1, built in 1905.

Years later, the story still mattered. The Cass City Chronicle, on September 8, 1933, reported that about 1,500 people gathered at the Earle monument in the state park one mile east of Cass City for the Earle Memorial Super-Highway Association meeting.

One sign welcomed:

“Horatio S. Earle and His M-53 Boosters”

Another said:

“Let’s Finish Paving M-53, By Gum.”

The Chronicle noted that “By gum!” was one of Earle’s favorite sayings.

So what happened to State Reward Road No. 1?

It did not disappear.

It grew up.

That old wagon road was improved, remembered, widened, and eventually became part of the modern road system many of us still drive today. The monument and historic marker remain as quiet reminders that Cass City and Elkland Township played a real role in the beginning of Michigan’s highway history.

Sometimes history is not hidden in an old building or buried in a book.

Sometimes we drive over it every day.

Did you know Cass City had a part in the beginning of Michigan’s state highway system? Have you ever stopped to read the Earle monument or the State Reward Road marker?

04/24/2026

Today in Cass City History — April 24, 1891

What were people complaining about 135 years ago?

Turns out… some things never change.

In an April 24, 1891 newspaper issue from the Cass City era, one section poked fun at readers who complained there wasn’t enough local news in the paper. The writer basically told people that before grumbling, they should consider how hard it was to gather news in a small town in those days. No phones. No internet. No instant updates. Just editors trying to collect stories by horse, train, letters, and word of mouth.

Even in 1891, people wanted to know:

Who moved in or out of town
Who was sick or recovering
What was being built
Who bought land or livestock
What happened at church, school, or the depot
And of course… a little gossip

That means Cass City residents 135 years ago cared about the same thing many of us still care about now:

What’s going on around town?

There’s something comforting in that. Long before pages and group chats, people here still wanted to stay connected to their neighbors and community.

So maybe the real local news has always been the same: people caring about people.

04/23/2026

One of Cass City’s most noticeable features has been hiding in plain sight for generations — have you ever thought about why the streets are so wide?

2 minute read

Most of us have noticed it at one time or another: Cass City’s streets feel wider than a lot of small towns.

That was no accident.

Back in 1867, when the original plat of Cass City was laid out, Travis Leach was hired as the surveyor. According to A History of Cass City and Elkland Township, he was the one responsible for laying out the streets and alleys — and he pushed for something unusual.
Leach insisted that Main Street and Seeger Street be 99 feet wide.

That was a lot of ground to give up in a young village, and the Seeger family reportedly thought it was too much. But Leach stood firm. The story says he told them the streets should stay that wide — or they could find another surveyor.

They kept Leach.

More than 150 years later, Cass City is still living inside that decision.

Later Cass City Chronicle history pieces remembered Leach as the man behind Cass City’s “wide, wonderful Main Street,” and one article even said people thought he was a madman for planning streets that broad. But in the days of horse teams, wagons, loading, unloading, hitching up, and turning around, that extra room made a lot more sense than it might have at first glance.

So Travis Leach was more than just an early settler. He was one of the practical men who helped decide what Cass City would physically look like — and his work is still right there in plain sight every time you drive through town.

But like so many early Thumb pioneers, his story was not all planning and progress.

In the terrible cyclone of June 1905, newspaper reports said the large residence of Travis Leach was badly damaged and his large barn was a total wreck. So the man who helped shape Cass City’s streets also saw his own farm struck hard by one of the worst disasters in the area’s history.
That gives his story a different kind of weight. Travis Leach did not just help plan a town — he lived the same hard, uncertain life that shaped so many early families here.

His name may not be the first one most people think of today, but every time you drive down Main Street, you are still seeing part of his work.

Was Travis Leach just stubborn — or was he seeing something the rest of the town had not yet imagined?

04/22/2026

What Happened To Cass City’s First Powerhouse?

It is hard to imagine now, but there was a time when electric light in Cass City was something brand new, something people would have noticed and talked about.

According to the Cass City Enterprise, December 1, 1898, the power came on at Thanksgiving 1898. The Cass City Chronicle, December 1, 1933, looking back 35 years, repeated that same memory. So by Thanksgiving Day, November 24, 1898, Cass City had stepped into the electric age.
And this was not just a few lights strung up here and there.

Cass City built a full waterworks and electric light plant, one of the village’s biggest improvements of the time. By the end of 1898, the new powerhouse was being described as a brick building at the corner of Maple and Church Streets, tied to a system with 28 driven wells and built to provide both arc lights and incandescent lights.

It had taken months of work to get there. In the fall of 1898, contracts were being awarded, trenches were being dug for water pipe, hydrants were being planned, and the village was getting ready to operate the new system. By November, Cass City had even created a Board of Public Works and was taking applications from men who wanted to run the plant.

Once the lights came on, they did not stay a novelty for long. By January 26, 1899, residents were already petitioning for another arc light at Main and Leach Streets. By March 2, 1899, the village was reporting money received from patrons of the electric lights, showing that this new service had already become part of everyday life.

One name that keeps showing up in the story is Bert L. Spindler, who was closely tied to the electric side of the plant and later remembered as the first electrician in charge. By the spring of 1899, electricity in Cass City was already being used for public displays, including a sign made with forty incandescent lights for an I.O.O.F. anniversary on the Opera House.

And of course, small-town life being what it is, the new lights brought new problems too. In the Cass City Enterprise, May 25, 1899, the paper complained that boys were tampering with the ropes connected to the arc lights, breaking globes and damaging a lamp.

That may be one of the most charming parts of the whole story. Cass City’s first powerhouse was not just about machinery and progress. It quickly became part of ordinary village life — something people used, talked about, celebrated, and sometimes messed with.

Cass City’s first powerhouse was more than a building. It was the moment the village took a big step into a more modern world, with electric light, water service, and fire protection all tied together in one bold project.

Had you ever heard that Cass City’s first power came on at Thanksgiving of 1898 — and do you remember hearing any old stories about the powerhouse itself?

04/21/2026

Then vs. Now: The River That Helped Build Cass City

Long before the Cass River was known as a quiet place for fishing, kayaking, or a scenic drive, it was one of the reasons Cass City took shape at all.

In fact, the river was important before Cass City was even fully a village. In 1866, township residents appropriated $200 for a bridge at the forks of the Cass River, and it was built by William H. Brown. That tells us something important: even in those earliest years, this was already a crossing people needed. It mattered enough to spend money on. It mattered enough to build around.

By 1867, Cass City had its beginning as a village. By 1870, local history says Jesse Fox was busy starting a new saw and gristmill, showing how tied the river area already was to the town’s working life. Around the same time, early descriptions of Cass City mention the river forks, mill activity, and a growing settlement that was beginning to look like a real village instead of just a few scattered buildings.

By 1881, Cass City was described as a thriving and industrious little place. On Main Street stood a grist mill near the east side of the Maple Street intersection. Nearby were a planing mill, a shingle mill, wagon and blacksmith shops, stores, and the other businesses that made up a growing town. The river was not just scenery then. It was practical. It was part of the work of living.

And the river kept shaping local industry after that. Later accounts describe the Hall Brick Yard north of the river near the railroad bridge, and another brick and tile company on the south bank near the highway bridge. A shingle mill also stood on the north bank east of the highway. For years, the river corridor was tied to the things Cass City made, moved, built, and depended on.

The crossings kept changing too. In 1931–1932, a new bridge on M-81 east of Cass City was built. In 1934, survey work began for the improvement of the Cass River bridge south of town. So even decades after the village began, the river was still influencing local infrastructure and everyday life.
Today, the Cass River feels different. It is no longer a working river of mills, hauling, and industry. But it is still one of Cass City’s overlooked strengths.

A modern 2019 First Impressions Tourism Report called the Cass River one of Cass City’s hidden assets with the potential to draw visitors. At the same time, the report noted that the river was hard to find and that local water access was not especially visible. One of the report’s recommendations was to create a better destination point for kayaking and canoeing just south of town.

That may be one of the most interesting parts of the whole story.
The Cass River helped shape Cass City’s beginning — and it may still have the power to help shape its future.

What changed is not the river itself, but the way the community relates to it.
Once it was about mills, brick yards, and getting work done.
Now it's about beauty, recreation, memory, and rediscovering something that was there all along.

Who else still goes down the walking trail to sit at the bridge and let the world float by?

04/20/2026

What Happened to Cass City’s Jaeger Auto Plant Dream?

Two-minute read.

Back in 1933, Cass City had a chance to become part of Michigan’s automobile story.

That spring, the Cass City Chronicle reported that Jaeger Motor Car, Inc. was trying to bring an automobile assembly plant to town. In the April 28, 1933 issue, the paper said local residents were being asked to subscribe $10,000 in stock to help make it happen.

That was a big ask in the middle of the Great Depression.

And yet, people here believed in it.
Just one week later, in the May 5, 1933 Cass City Chronicle, the paper reported that $7,000 of the $10,000 had already been pledged by Cass City residents. A temporary office had been opened in the Daily Building, and a picture of the company’s 1933 sedan was on display there.

Before long, the dream seemed even more real. In the June 2, 1933 Cass City Chronicle, village council agreed to lease the old power plant building at the end of Pine Street to the company for $1 a year for five years, as long as operations continued. The paper also said equipment had already begun arriving.

That old power plant building still stands in Cass City today. It is now the home of Flowers By Grace.

For a brief moment, that building was tied to one of the village’s biggest industrial dreams.
And there’s one more fascinating detail: a surviving Jaeger identification plate is marked “Cass City, Mich.” and carries serial number 5.

That suggests the Cass City operation was real enough to have its own identity and numbering tied to it.

But here’s what makes the story even more interesting: the Jaeger car itself does not appear to have started in Cass City. The automobile was already tied to Belleville, Michigan, and Cass City seems to have been chosen as a hoped-for assembly site.

In the end, that dream never fully came together.

A later Cass City Chronicle retrospective, published on January 5, 1984, looked back on the excitement of 1933 and said that although plans had been made and equipment had been brought in, no cars were ever assembled in Cass City.

That same 1984 article included one quiet little detail that may say the most of all.

According to Stanley Asher, someone from the company had been coming around each week to collect on the local pledges made toward that $10,000. Then one week, nobody came.
And that was the end of it.

Even more striking, the 1984 Chronicle said no story could be found in the paper announcing that Jaeger had left town. After all the excitement, all the talk, all the hope, the story seems to have simply faded away.

So what happened to Cass City’s Jaeger auto plant dream?

It appears the village came very close to landing a real automobile assembly project. The people here pledged money. The village offered space. Equipment arrived. Offices opened. A Cass City serial plate even survives. But somewhere between the promise and the reality, the plan quietly slipped away before Cass City ever built a single car.

Still, for one short moment in 1933, Cass City was dreaming bigger than most people would ever guess.

A big thank you to my friend Justin for sharing this story with me!

What do you make of that surviving Cass City serial plate marked number 5 — and what stories have you heard about the old power plant building?

04/17/2026

Today in Cass City History — April 20, 1882
If you were a woman walking through Cass City in the spring of 1882, the stores must have felt full of promise.
In the Cass City Enterprise, April 20, 1882, local merchants were proudly advertising the season’s newest goods. J. C. Laing, General Merchant offered dry goods, ladies’ dress goods, alpacas, cashmeres, and ginghams. A. L. Kiff was promoting new spring styles in clothing and furnishing goods, including hats, neckties, fancy shirts, collars, and cuffs. And Angus D. Gillies, under the bold headline “Business is Booming!!”, advertised silks, velvets, cashmeres, cottons, domestics, and ladies’ fine shoes.
It paints such a vivid little picture of life here. After a long Michigan winter, spring in Cass City did not only mean mud, chores, and farm work. It also meant fresh fabric, new styles, and the small excitement of seeing what had just arrived in town.
You can almost imagine the women of Cass City stepping into those stores, looking over the dress goods, noticing the fine shoes, and thinking about what they might need for the new season ahead. These were women keeping homes, raising children, sewing, cooking, helping on farms, and carrying so much of everyday life, yet they were also part of the style and spirit of a growing village.
That is one of the things I love most about old newspapers. They remind us that history is not only made of disasters, railroads, and major events. Sometimes history is quieter than that. Sometimes it is found in a spring shopping trip, a bolt of gingham, or a woman pausing at a Cass City store window in 1882.
Can you imagine what your great-great-grandmother might have worn, bought, or noticed on a spring trip into Cass City?

04/16/2026