1880 Census – A Dream Deceived
Update 35
Spring 1880
The train slowed around the last bend. Mr. Stevens was glued to his window, wondering if this was even the same town he visited 10 years ago. A decade can cloud the mind, but Stevens remembered his first trip to Porthaven like it was yesterday. The ferry crossing, Fort Sunset, Murphy’s Pub… Porthaven held a special place in Fredric Stevens’ heart.
Most of all, Stevens was looking forward to catching up with the man behind Porthaven, Nicholas J. Delin. Over 25 years ago, Delin cut through the swampy lowlands looking for the perfect location to start his dream. All these years later, Porthaven was finally shaping up into the city that he had imagined.
As the Census crew strolled down Main St, Stevens couldn’t help but notice how much the town had grown up. Shops and homes dotted the landscape, and the bustle and hustle of the townsfolk added to a very lively atmosphere. The stationmaster gave the group directions to Sunset Port House & Inn, one of the newest hotels in town. Stevens was surprised to see Mr. Delin standing out front waiting to welcome the new guests.
“Mr. Stevens, it’s been far too long! Welcome back to Porthaven,” announced Delin.
“Far too long indeed,” replied Stevens. “I’d like you to meet my fellow colleagues – they are all excited to begin their work tallying up this great town.”
“Wonderful. These gentlemen are members of the town council and they will be happy to assist you and your party. I look forward to your stay, Mr. Stevens. We have much to talk about,” said Delin.
The two groups exchanged greetings and introductions. As the informal gathering began to wind down, Stevens had one last word with Mr. Delin.
“Thank you again for the warm welcome. Porthaven appears to be growing into quite the town, you must be proud,” remarked Stevens.
Delin managed a smile. “Well… things are not always as they seem.”
Stevens was puzzled by the response. Before Delin turned to walk away he gestured down the street.
“If your schedule permits, I’d be honored to share a drink at Murphy’s this evening. A lot has happened in ten years.”
Later that evening, Fredric Stevens made his way down the street to Murphy’s. As he strolled through the door, the memories of ten years past came rolling back. It was nice to know that an entire town could grow up, but some things don’t change. Stevens glanced around and noticed Mr. Delin sitting at a table in the corner.
“If it weren’t for my aching old bones, I’d say this feels like the last ten years never happened,” laughed Stevens as he pulled up a chair.
Delin looked up and smiled. At 61, the years were beginning to show their wear. To many, Delin was still the young buck who almost single handedly built Porthaven from the ground up, starting with that single cabin over 25 years ago.
But the grey hair told a different story. As the two friends reminisced about old times and faraway places, the night wore on. After a lull in the conversation, Mr. Stevens took a sip of his beer and posed a question.
“I was thrown off by your comment earlier today. Steamer Bay is shaping up into a splendid little town, but Porthaven has nothing to be ashamed of – from what I’ve seen both towns are equally grand. What did you mean by your quip?”
Delin rested his mug on the table.
“Fredric, my friend, the hour is far too late to begin that story now. The mornings come early here on the frontier, and Murphy’s beer can make you scorn the sunlight.”
The two gentlemen walked out into the night, and as Fredric turned to walk towards the hotel, Delin cleared his throat.
“I’m going to take an afternoon walk tomorrow. If you can make time between your census duties, I’d like to show you something. We can leave from my house.”
Normally Stevens would find it hard to sleep with so many questions running through his head. What had put Mr. Delin in such a strange state? Fortunately, an evening at Murphy’s made the eyes heavy, and the comfortable beds at the Inn finished the job and whisked Stevens off to dreamland.
The next morning, Stevens was a little rough around the edges, as Delin had warned. Stevens gathered the group and began assigning neighborhoods for the day. He got to work on his own block and after lunch he took a stroll over to Delin’s home. The house was still perched on a little hill, just a short walk from the mill and town center.
“I hope you are up for a little hike, my friend,” blurted Delin as he marched down the main staircase.
“You’ve just summed up about every day of my working career, sir,” shot back Stevens.
The two men trooped along the dusty roads of Porthaven, enjoying the cool spring air. Soon, the well-trodden dirt roads gave way to smaller trails and the civilization quickly surrendered to nature.
“These hikes take me back twenty years,” observed Delin. “Back then, I didn’t think we could ever fell enough trees to eke out a spot for a town. The forests were so thick you could saw for days on end and barely make a dent.”
Stevens kept pace with his friend, listening to the rhythm of his footsteps.
Delin continued, “It was hard. Grueling in fact. But God… I loved it. I look back now… They were good times. Hard, good times.”
“All that hard work has birthed a town from nothing, it must be satisfying to be able to look back from where you stand now,” said Stevens.
“Hmm,” sighed Delin, looking off into the trees. “Everything starts simply enough. It’s often hard to appreciate at the time, but as the world grows more complex we lose sight of the straightforward path. I did. And in the end, it cost me everything.”
The trail emerged from the trees and off in the distance Stevens spotted a track of rail slicing through the brush.
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you Nicholas. Most folks would trade their right arm for the land under a township this size,” replied Stevens.
Delin flashed a disheartened smile. “The honest man might make that trade. A lesser man would snatch it away without remorse.”
Delin paused. “It’s just around this clump of trees, we’re almost there.”
As the two men cleared the last tree, Stevens eyes grew wide.
“About the time Northern Pacific came looking around for a terminus port, I offered to sell a huge swath of this waterfront property, thinking it would seal the deal and bring the railroad to Porthaven,” Delin continued. “I needed the cash to clear some debts and the lumber prices were hitting rock bottom, so the final negotiated price was akin to stealing. But in the back of my mind, I knew the announcement of a railroad terminus in Porthaven would boost my land holdings twenty fold.”
Delin chuckled. “Unfortunately, that didn’t quite work out. After the Steamer Bay swindle, I had nothing. I was forced to sell nearly everything just to balance the books. Porthaven is now a Northern Pacific town…”
“Nothing? It’s really all gone?” Stevens couldn’t quite wrap his head around what Delin had just said.
Delin started down the path leading to the port. “I still have my health, loving friends and family and a home… it’s more than I can say about the vultures who took everything else.”
Stevens was silent. He didn’t know what to say to console his friend.
Delin continued, “It would be disingenuous to say that I wasn’t bitter at the railroad. I spent much of the past few years eaten by hatred, and it felt right to hate them. But at the end of each day, nothing had changed… my mood never improved.”
The two hiked down near the waterfront. It was abuzz with activity – wagons, workers and horses moving in all directions at once. Stevens followed Delin across the railroad tracks and up a small hill near the port.
The two travelers proceeded up a watch tower overlooking the sound and mouth of the Delin River.
“This is my favorite spot,” announced Delin. “Little by little, I let the bitterness escape through my clenched fists. Eventually I rediscovered what drew me to this frontier in the first place.”
The two men gazed out across the water. Gulls were calling down by the harbor, and the salt air permeated everything.
“You are a stronger man than I,” admitted Stevens. “I don’t know how I could settle with losing everything.”
The town founder sighed. “I have fewer years ahead than behind. Time is more valuable than any worldly wealth, and I intend to spend every last grain of sand in my hourglass.”
“And besides,” Delin smiled, “it’s not all gone. I still have some swampland to the east of town… I’d probably have trouble giving it away.”
“Hmm… Mr. Stevens,” Delin mentioned sarcastically, “you wouldn’t happen to be interested in buying a piece of Porthaven, would you?”
Both friends had a good laugh.
(click for full)
Replies to the last Teaser:
NMUSpidey, Gugu3, Forthwall, ggamgus:
Thanks for the great comments! Hope you enjoyed the full update 
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