Christian Boisen, Luverne, Owned Luverne’s First “Juke” Box
Although there is no sworn statement on file, it is believed that Chris Boisen, Luverne, had Luverne’s first “juke” box. Before going any farther, it might be well to explain that the “nickelodeon” brought here by Mr. Boisen could hardly be compared with the gaily colored coin phonographs of today, but it cost as much, perhaps, and proved just as popular as the modern machine.
Mr. Boisen had purchased an Edison phonograph, one of the earliest models, and was in Rock Rapids when an acquaintance induced him to come here to display his machine. It was a crude affair, but a money maker. Fifteen rubber tubes emanated from the sound chamber. By putting the tubes into their ears, eight customers with one tube in each ear could listen to their favorite recording at one time. The 15th tube was used by the operator of the machine so that he could tell if the record was playing properly or not. Boisen charged his patrons five cents to listen to one record, or they could hear three for a dime. He did quite a business at those prices, he recalls.
The equipment represented considerable investment. The machine itself cost $360 and the records cost $2.00 each.
The experience with the phonograph, however, is but one of many interesting experiences in Mr. Boisen’s life. He was born Sept. 18, 1868, near Flensburg, Germany, a seaport city of 150,000 located on the Baltic Sea and bordering Denmark at the north edge of the city. His father was a blacksmith by trade, and during the Danish war, he shod horses for the army. He was a skilled workman, and specialized in fine work such as cutlery, etc. His parents died when he was a boy, and at the age of six, he went to live with his sister. At that time, he was able to speak the Danish language, but as the law forbade the speaking of Danish in the city where his sister lived, he soon forgot most of it. He can still say a few words in Danish, however, but he speaks both high and low German, in addition to English.
In 1879 he came to Brooklyn, New York, on a ship which had been built in his home town. As a matter of fact, he was in the ship when it first went down the scaffold. At that time, the piers of the great Brooklyn bridge were just being completed, and he recalls driving a team onto a ferry boat, crossing the river, loading the wagon with supplies at a market, and then coming back, when he worked for a short time for a storekeeper.
He went out one night with a fisherman friend with whom he stayed to get oysters, and states that he was really frightened when the man pulled in a giant sea turtle about three feet in diameter. The oysters, too, were extra large, and while in Brooklyn he learned to eat oysters prepared in many different ways, “I’ve eaten them in soup; I’ve eaten them chopped fine and put on pancakes and I’ve eaten them fried. I’ll tell you, those were real oysters,” he declared.
He spent several hectic hours in Brooklyn one Decoration day, he recalls. He loved music, and when the band paraded in the street, he began following it until he became lost. He didn’t know what to do for some time, so he kept following it until it again passed the place where he had first seen it. He had enough band music, for that day, he relates, so he went home.
His brother, who lived at Luzerne, Iowa, insisted that he come to live with him, so he reluctantly left Brooklyn. After coming to Iowa, he attended school, and later was confirmed there.
The first winter he was in Iowa was one of the most severe he ever experienced. Under normal conditions, 56 trains passed through the town of Luzerne in 24 hours. After the blizzard struck, there wasn’t a train in the town for a whole week. There were no snow plows in those days, and the only thing that could be done was to shovel cut the cuts, and try to force the locomotive through the snow banks by sheer force of power. Mr. Boisen recalls how two locomotives had a “running start” of two miles, and then hit a snow filled pass. Another locomotive had come up from the rear and pulled them back by a cable.