Bill Wangemann tells the story of Plymouth’s Dynamite Bill

Column #254
By Bill Wangemann, historian

In the past history of Sheboygan County there have been many colorful characters, but there are few people who could match George G. Gardner who was said to be a legend in his own time.

But just who was George G. Gardner?

First of all, he was a life-long resident of Plymouth and a decorated World War I hero. PFC Gardner was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for bringing back from “no man’s land” a severely wounded captain while under heavy enemy fire.

Unfortunately the young captain died of his wounds several days later. But not before he wrote PFC Gardner thanking him for his courage and informing him that he had recommended him for the DSC. Gardner kept the letter from the wounded captain all his life and he mentioned many times that it was his most prized possession.

Gardner was also a member of a demolition team that blew up a vital bridge across the Marne River, preventing a major German advance on Paris.

Maybe George Gardner would be more familiar to you if I mentioned the fact that he was better known as the storied “Dynamite Bill.” It was said that the skill of Dynamite Bill was so great that he could blast a sitting hen off her nest without cracking the eggs she was sitting on. As with almost any mythical man, the stories about Bill grew in size from generation to generation.

Gardner was born in Forestville in Door County on May 22, 1887, the son of an orchard owner. It seems that George learned the blasting trade starting at age 12 when he went to work in a Door County quarry as a powder monkey. It was the job of the powder monkey to bring tools and dynamite to the blasters working in the quarry.

After World War I, young George Gardner returned home to the Plymouth area and opened two taverns, one in Elkhart Lake and one in Waldo. But George was much more proficient as a blaster than he was as a businessman – both taverns failed. The fact that George opened the two taverns just before prohibition became the law probably had a great deal to do with the failure of the two saloons. George had the dubious distinction of being the first person in Sheboygan County to be arrested for violation of the Prohibition Act. George pled “not guilty” and, after a lengthy trial, was acquitted.

Bill was described as having an outgoing and boisterous personality. He was also known to flavor his coffee or other beverages with a bit of some more potent beverage. In Plymouth, at that time, the Women’s Christian Temperance Union had a strong presence, whose goal was to stamp out “Demon Rum.” It might be said that even though Bill was a legend in his own time in Plymouth, he was not high on their list of favorite local personalities. Nor were they on his list of people he would like to spend an evening with.

Over the years, the skill that Bill possessed was demonstrated many times. Being a bit of a showmen, Bill loved to predict exactly how a blasting job would come out. On one occasion he was hired to bring down a tall smoke stack. With a large crowd watching, Bill drew a chalk line on the ground indicating that this was the precise spot on which the stack would fall. He set the charges, blew the smoke stack down and, much to the delight of the crowd, it fell exactly on the chalk line. On another occasion, a farmer hired him to blow up a large stump, which just happened to be straddling another farmer’s property line. So the farmer contacted his neighbor and asked if he would pay half for blasting the stump, but he refused. George said no problem, and neatly blew out half the stump.

People who knew George said he was most proud of a blasting job he did for the H.C. Prange Co. in downtown Sheboygan. Few people realized that the downstairs store of the Prange Co. actually extended under the sidewalk on North Eighth Street. The Prange Co. decided to extend this area, but during construction ran into a rock mass that the contractor could not remove.

The logical decision was reached to dynamite the rock so it could be removed and the logical choice to perform this risky operation was of course Dynamite Bill. One of the problems was that just on the other side of the wall where Bill had to set his charges was located the department that sold fine china. While the store was in operation and without removing a single piece of the china, Bill blasted the huge rocks into smaller pieces so they could be removed. Many shoppers in the store never realized that a blasting operation was taking place just below their feet.

In later years Bill always said that this was the job he was most proud of and he often added when telling this story “I never so much as chipped a teacup.”

I could never discover just how George Gardner came to be known as “Dynamite Bill” and not Dynamite George.

To recount all the stories and legends about Dynamite Bill would probably take more space than is available in this entire paper.

George Gardner lived simply in Plymouth in an old cheese factory heated by a wood stove. It was from this building that Bill operated his blasting business. Over the door hung a simple sign that read “Dynamite Bill.” The only address Bill ever used or needed was “Dynamite Bill, Plymouth Wisconsin.”

George continued well into his 70s with his blasting business, but in his later years his health began to fail. After a lengthy illness George G. Gardner passed away on Oct. 12, 1966. His sign had remained in place for many years after he quit the blasting business. But two days before Dynamite Bill passed away, his sign mysteriously fell down.

George was buried in Plymouth. He was survived by his wife and two sisters.

Today’s Snippet: Although not an outwardly religious man Dynamite Bill once said “I never set off a blast without first saying the Lord’s Prayer.”

If you have any questions, comments or suggestions for a future column, feel free to contact me at (920) 458-2974 or e-mail wangemann@yahoo.com.


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