"Harold Berquist — Man of Iron" from the January 15, 1970 Door County Advocate
Harold Berquist — Man of Iron
By KETA STEEBS
Hjalmer Holand would have loved Harold Berquist. He is the stuff from which heroes are made. If Holand, that unforgettable chronicler of Door county events, were still alive this is the way he may have written the saga of Harold Berquist.
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Harold Berquist, a 60 year old bachelor living in Baileys Harbor, eked out a meager living cutting wood in a densely forested area north of the village. On Wednesday last (Jan. 7) Berquist, working done as usual, had completed his day's chores and was on his way back to his humble cabin.'
On the way he stumbled against a tree stump and dislocated a knee. The blow forced him to the ground where he knelt on all fours. Time after time the stalwart woodsman tried to stand but the pain prohibited him from rising. In desperation be began crawling home through deep snow and in sub zero weather.
Night found him a mile from his cabin still crawling blindly towards safety. Knowing it would be useless to continue his painful journey in the dark, Berquist crawled into a fairly protected area and spent the night beating his hands against his face and rubbing the extremities of his body as vigorously as his waning strength would allow.
When daybreak at last made its hesitant appearance, the enfeebled sufferer again began his tortuous way home. He had a mile to go and by steadfastly crawling with only occasional stops to rest, arrived at his cabin shortly after noon on Thursday. Alas, the cabin was cold, his wood fire long extinguished and the temperature indoors was not much warmer, than that of the wilderness he had just left.
Berquist, still crawling, made his way to the woodpile and started a roaring fire before throwing himself exhausted on his bed. He then realized that his dislocated knee would have to be set. By bracing both feet under the footboard, lying flat on his back and jerking his injured leg as hard as he could he managed to get his kneecap back in place. This was Thursday.
Friday, he lay all alone—miles from civilization, miles from a telephone, miles from help of any kind. His feet were causing excruciating pain, his swollen knee ached unbearably and the poor man faced an uncertain and possibly short lived future.
Saturday was no better. His isolated cabin saw few visitors and even fewer snowplows. In desperation Berquist tried to relieve the pain in his frostbitten toes with homemade remedies—to no avail.
Then, at last, on Saturday evening a welcome bock sounded on the door. It was Berquist's nephew coming to pay his isolated uncle a visit. As soon as he became aware of the situation the young man immediately went for help. Snowplows gouged a road to the remote Berquist home wide enough to accommodate an ambulance. Stilled hands lifted the hardy old warrior to a stretcher and inside half-an-hour the suffering but still cheerful accident victim was in a warm hospital room.
"His toes were badly frostbitten but his overall condition was excellent. As a veteran he is eligible for admission to Wood hospital and in accordance with his request, his local doctor sent him there this week.
If anyone would like to write and congratulate him on his fortitude, courage and spirit address a card to Harold Berquist, Wood Hospital, Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
Courtesy of the Door County Library Newspaper Archive
Articles by Keta Steebs
https://doorcounty.substack.com/t/keta-steebs