National Park faces major decisions as spotlight focuses on D.H. Day farm

By Jacob R. Wheeler
Sun editor
At least once a day a curious tourist nudges up to the fence surrounding the D.H. Day farm to snap a photo or draw a sketch of the majestic 116-foot-long dairy barn that dominates the landscape along historic route M-109. This is one of the images that people associate with Northern Michigan, nearly as much as the great lake just to the west. In fact, the Society of Architectural Historians chose the D.H. Day farm as one of the “50 Most Significant Structures in Michigan”, alongside stalwarts like the Mackinac Bridge and the Renaissance Center.

But a flurry of recent changes to the property has sparked concern among local residents and the National Park Service, alike, that soon the farm will no longer mirror the “kingdom” that D.H. Day established at the beginning of the 20th century. Day was a lumber baron who also ran the local general store in Glen Haven, a town he all but created. He walked the three miles from town every day to inspect his prize herd of 200 Holstein cows and 400 hogs that lived on the farm.
Don Lewis is a local contractor who has owned the farm since 1973 and has worked under the auspices of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, the local branch of the National Park Service, since signing an agreement on August 31, 1984 that designated the D.H. Day farm a Category III, or private use and development area within the Park. In short, the contract stipulated that Lewis is to consult the Park before making any changes that are externally visible. Apparently in accordance with the agreement, Lewis has made extensive renovations over the last 30 years, such as rebuilding the weather-beaten roof and re-finishing the silos on the barn. Until recently he has received very little attention from the Park, citing a relationship he describes as “you leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone”.
This summer, though, that relationship has changed. Since Lewis removed the “horse barn” (one of three smaller barns behind the cattle barn), enlarged a window, made extensive changes to the interior of the farmhouse and made noise of further plans to alter the historic property, the Park and other environmental conservation groups like Preserve Historic Sleeping Bear have awakened with a start. Lewis received a letter from the Park, asking him to secure the approval of the Secretary of the Interior before commencing work that would alter the external appearance of the D.H. Day farm.
“The challenge is how to preserve the exterior so that people will able to continue enjoying it as they have the last hundred years,” said Lewis, a self-professed barn lover who grew up in the hills of West Virginia. “In the meantime this is a private property on the tax rolls. Someone has to pay the bills every year and maintain it.”
In his defense, Lewis has put tens of thousands of man-hours into renovating the property and preparing it for Old Man Winter, especially during the Park’s infancy stage when its funds were limited. Coincidentally, the day Lewis moved to Glen Arbor and drove around the bend to view the D.H. Day farm for the first time in 1970 was the very day the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore was born.
“From my standpoint the barn is in better condition today than the day it was built,” said Lewis. “Its French curves are very unique, but from an engineering standpoint, there were flaws in the original design. The barn was sagging and bending when I bought it.”
Lewis questions the wisdom of placing limits on his renovations and improvements only to maintain the historic uniformity of the structures.
“This farm is a work in progress. Many don’t know that the original barn was a two-story dairy barn without the silos. It evolved from one year to the next, but I don’t think any historian or barn lover would want to see the silos torn down and the barn restored to its ‘original’ state.”
Still, he acknowledges his obligation to the Park and to the public. “If I had decided to paint the barn iridescent orange I’m sure the phone would ring off the hook.”
Lewis maintains he had no choice but to remove the “horse barn” because of its shoddy condition. He cites an inspection by Park architects in 1987 who concluded that the “structure was apparently neither level, nor plumb, nor square even when built. (The horse barn) was obviously not part of the original architectural composition.”
“In order to maintain the barn, it would have to be rebuilt from the ground up,” Lewis said. “I could have gone up to Leland to get a condemnation sticker and orders to remove it within a week before it fell and killed someone.”
But the Park considers Lewis’ removal of the horse barn without first consulting with it a betrayal of the agreement.
He has since provided the Park with blueprints that detail his plans to rebuild the horse barn out of new, and more sound material closer to the farmhouse and build an intricate garden shed between the farmhouse and the large barn. Lewis calls the garden shed an absolute clone of what he’s identified in historic photos. Lewis has tentative plans to modernize the inside of the farmhouse and move there some day. He may also dig underground tunnels connecting the farmhouse and the barn where his construction equipment is stored, to make passage between home and work easier during Northern Michigan’s awful winters. The D.H. Day farm sits on a vast field that is subjected to Mother Nature’s worst.
According to the 1984 agreement, and confirmed by current Superintendent Dusty Shultz, the Park is not concerned with any alterations that are invisible to the public. So tunnels and modern amenities inside are fair game.
“These things wouldn’t have any affect on external appearance, so he wouldn’t alter the historic setting,” says Shultz. “We’re trying to maintain the status quo, but we also realize he has the right to make adaptations since he owns the land.”
Shultz maintained that Lewis has cooperated well with the Park since the letter of concern was sent. (The Glen Arbor Sun has appealed to the Freedom of Information Act for a copy of this letter.) “He acknowledged that he should have consulted us and was lax in doing so,” she said.
But concerns have arisen that the Park is still giving Lewis a free hand to do as he pleases, provided only that it receives prior notification. Preserve Historic Sleeping Bear, a group that protects the interest of farms in the Lakeshore (read about the reception held at the Olsen farm in the August 14 issue of the Sun), questions the Category III agreement between Lewis and the Park.
“It seems that the D.H. Day farm should be part of the National Lakeshore and federally-owned rather than in private hands, because it is such a significant historical resource,” says PHSB Project Coordinator Michael Matts. In fact, Lewis and the Park endured a decade of somewhat unpleasant discussions before he secured the farm as a private use and development area in 1984. “It would be worthwhile for the public to let the National Lakeshore and the owner know how important the integrity of the buildings, their sighting and landscape are to visitors and area residents,” Matts added. Preserve Historic Sleeping Bear seeks to play a role in negotiations between the two sides or, in the least, ensure that “the Category III agreement is enforced to the fullest extent of the law”.
Others are worried that a dangerous precedent will be set if the Park doesn’t stop Lewis.
“This is an important test,” said Jennifer Puntenneny, a former seasonal park ranger in the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. “If the National Park Service is unwilling to enforce the terms of this agreement, there is little possibility that they will enforce any of the other 90 agreements with private owners. If Mr. Lewis is allowed to ignore the terms of his agreement, then we will see a building boom in the park as small cottages are torn down and replaced with suburban style mansions.”
Puntenneny was referring to the Barrett and Laura Basch farms in the Port Oneida Historic District, north of Glen Arbor, where the Park Superintendent recently gave owners permission to tear down existing, historic buildings and erect newer and larger ones in their place.
“Mr. Lewis has clearly violated his agreement,” added Puntenneny. “The Park Service has every right to buy the property and perhaps that would best serve the public interest.”
Hypothetically, the Park could claim the farm tomorrow by resorting to a Declaration of Taking. But that has never happened before in the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, and is unlikely in this situation given the positive standing Lewis seems to have regained with the Park.
“The Michigan State Historical Preservation Officer says that the Superintendent must comply with the National Historic Preservation Act before she gives her approval,” Puntenneny added. “This requires that she inform the public of the proposed changes and give them an opportunity to comment.”
To date, the public has not been asked what changes the Park should let Mr. Lewis make on the D.H. Day farm, or on a broader scale, how much freedom property owners within the National Lakeshore should have. The Park is a gigantic vehicle, known to move at the pace of a snail, and last summer it opened its proposed General Management Plan up to the public, and to plenty of scrutiny, as a result.
“One of our big concerns is that if we open this up to the public, we will lose our ability to negotiate (with Don Lewis),” says Assistant Superintendent Tom Ulrich, a newcomer to the local Park this summer. “Enforcing the agreement could become difficult if we become too polar and adversarial. We want to maintain a good relationship with private land owners, because it’s easier to catch flies in honey than in vinegar.”
Oswegatchie: Day’s would-be retirement home
According to both Don Lewis, who owns the picturesque farm today, and Bill Herd, an interpreter at the National Park, David Henry (D. H.) Day planned to live in the Queen Anne-style farmhouse some day, but his wife kept nixing the move. She was intent on staying “in the city”, that is, living above the General Store in Glen Haven, roughly three miles away from the farm.
Day had the barns built in the late 1880s and 1890s and the house around 1910, to house the numerous pigs and large herd of black and white Holstein dairy cattle, which grazed on the lush alfalfa hay. The farmstead also filled the void left when his father died at a young age and the family lost the farm they had owned in upper New York State, according to Herd. Day would later come to Glen Haven on the Great Lakes as a clerk for the Northern Transportation Company and establish a booming lumber company. By the time he passed away in 1928 5,000 cherry and apple trees grew on the farm, and “D.H. Day’s kingdom”, as the Traverse City Record Eagle called it in the 1920s, spanned from the docks of Glen Haven to what’s now the public beach on Little Glen Lake.
A sign hanging over the front door of the farmhouse revealed the letters O-S-W-E-G-A-T-C-H-I-E, the name of the ship that carried Day to Glen Haven.
But the barn is what attracts the cameras and easels. It is 116-feet long, with poured concrete silos, octagonal cupolas with bell roofs and a vaulted and ogee roof with slightly flared caves to permit water drainage. Originally, the barn contained two long rows of stanchions where the cows were milked. The stanchions, and two mangers filled with fodder, stretched from one end of the huge barn to the other. Milk produced was separated for cream and fed to D.H. Day’s lumber workers. Legend has it that Day knew the name of each champion Holstein, the amount of milk each produced, and when each one calved.
The barn was in need of much repair when Lewis bought it. He stripped the roof to the rafters and repaired it using original materials. Later he completely refinished the silos.
The farm’s outbuildings included a two-bull barn, a pig house and a double corncrib. “Day was a taskmaster, and walked from Glen Haven every day to keep a watchful eye on his farm workers,” remembers 97-year-old Ray Welch who was once employed as a 40-cents-an-hour farmhand and lived in the farmhouse briefly.
In addition to being named one of the “50 Most Significant Structures in Michigan” , the D.H. Day farm is also eligible for the National Register of Historic Places, and its induction is a mere formality, Herd says.
The Empire Area Heritage Group contributed to this report