Poe’s Report: Port Crescent’s Last Stand

In this episode of End of the Road in Michigan, we uncover the quiet collapse of Port Crescent, a once-promising Thumb Coast lumber town left behind when Washington said no.

In 1886, the people of Port Crescent pleaded for help dredging the silt-choked Pinepog River—a final hope to revive their struggling economy after decades of logging and devastating wildfires.

Lieutenant Colonel Orlando M. Poe, a respected U.S. Army engineer and Civil War veteran, was sent to investigate. His report didn’t just close the door on federal support—it sealed the town’s fate. This episode explores how one decision marked the beginning of the end for Port Crescent and how a river’s silence can echo for generations.

Episode Transcript

(00:00):
In 1886, the people of Port Crescent, Michigan made a plea to Washington.

(00:04):
They wanted the government to dredge their river, clear a sand bar,
and breathe life back into their towns shrinking economy.
The river they pinned their hopes on, the pinnipog or partridge river, it wasn't big.
It wasn't fast, but it was all they had, and they believed in it.
The government on the other hand, didn't.

(00:27):
This is end of the road in Michigan, and today we head to the edge of Huron County in Michigan's
Thumb to hear the story of a town that asked for help, and got a cold bureaucratic no.
Port Crescent stood near the mouth of the pinnipog river, where it empties into Saginaw Bay in Michigan's
Thumb. It was a working town, lumber, salt, shingles, flour, machinery, everything moved on ships,

(00:54):
and the pinnipog was the artery connecting them to the Great Lakes. But by the 1880s,
things were changing fast. The Thumb region had been logged hard in the decades prior.
The tall white pines that once covered Huron County were nearly gone.
Then came the fires. First in 1871, on the same day as the great Chicago fire.

(01:19):
Then again worse, in 1881. Both fires swept through the region, turning cut over forest and
drying slash into fuel. Thousands were left homeless, entire towns vanished. The land that remained
was scorched but fertile, and slowly, painfully, it began to shift from timber to agriculture.
But towns like Port Crescent built on sawmills and lake transport were left behind.

(01:46):
Even so, by 1886, it still had two sawmills, two salt blocks, general stores, and a growing trade in
white sand. Locals believed the pinnipog river could still serve as a lifeline, what stood in their
way was sand and Washington. The mouth of the river had silted up. A sand bar was forming. The river

(02:09):
choked. A dam near the mouth already damaged made things worse. So did a dock lay diagonally
across the flow. Vessels could barely make it in, let alone out. The shallow shifting sands of
upper Saginaw Bay caused problems for cargo ships. With no safe harbor and rising risk, ships stayed

(02:30):
away. Trade declined, and the river, once the town's lifeline, became a barrier. On August 5, 1886,
Congress passed a new river and harbor act. It allowed for a fresh round of studies to determine
where federal money could be spent on navigational improvements. The citizens of Port Crescent

(02:52):
saw their chance. They wrote letters, they argued that clearing the river would restore trade,
create jobs, even offer a safe haven for ships during storms on the bay. One letter to the Army
Corps of Engineers read, "The prospective commerce will be a marked increase, but on account of
numerous wrecks off this port, marine men deem it unsafe to enter or remain here." It is a great

(03:18):
detriment to the business interests of the place. They talked about past shipments, 200,000 feet of
lumber once floated out with ease. They argued the improvements could be modest, just enough to make 200
rods navigable, a safe harbor, a revived trade route, a second chance. The man assigned to evaluate

(03:40):
Port Crescent's request was Lieutenant Colonel Orlando Metcalf Poe, a name that still echoes across
the Great Lakes. Born in 1832 in Navar, Ohio, Poe graduated near the top of his class at Westpoint.
He began his career mapping and surveying the Northern Lakes, work that made him one of the Army's

(04:01):
leading experts on Great Lakes navigation. During the Civil War, Poe served as a trusted aid to General
George B. McClellan and later became chief engineer for General William to come to Sherman.
He played a crucial role in the defense of Knoxville and oversaw the burning of Atlanta during
Sherman's march to the sea. He was respected for his precision, discipline, and hard-edged logic.

(04:26):
By the mid-1880s, Poe was overseeing harbor and lighthouse construction across the upper lakes.
His impact was so significant that one of the Siulocks in So Saint Marie, critical to Great Lakes
shipping, was eventually named in his honor, the Poe Lock. So when Poe reviewed Port Crescent's appeal,

(04:48):
he brought decades of experience and a strict sense of priorities. His report dated December 9, 1886,
pulled no punches. The mouth itself is almost completely choked with sand. The dock and dam would have
to be removed, the limited width of the river and the uncertainty about its bottom, render any

(05:09):
recommendation out of the question. He recognized the town's efforts and the local desire to keep commerce
alive, but his conclusion was final. The region tributary to Port Crescent is limited in area and in
products. I am compelled to report that in my opinion, Pinabog River is not at this time worthy of

(05:32):
improvement by the general government. With that, a small town's hope ran aground buried in sand,
dismissed by the man whose name would soon be etched into the history of American engineering.
In the end, Lieutenant Colonel Orlando M. Poe didn't just assess a river. He delivered a verdict
on a town's future. His 1886 report didn't cause the fall of Port Crescent, but it confirmed it.

(06:00):
Without federal support, the river stayed clogged. The harbor stayed closed and the last best chance to
reconnect Port Crescent to the Great Lakes, vanished under a layer of sand. The river stayed clogged.
The harbor never reopened. The government never came back. From that point forward, the decline accelerated.

(06:21):
Mill shut down, trade dried up. People moved on. What remained of the town slowly slipped into memory.
Poe's decision didn't make headlines, but it marked the beginning of the end. Today, Port Crescent is a memory.
The town was eventually abandoned. What's left is now part of Port Crescent State Park,

(06:43):
a quiet place with walking trails and a beach where the river once carried trade to the world.
The Pinabog River still meets the bay, but no ships come calling. Today you can cross the original
steel bridge that once led into town. Except you're not walking on city streets but nature trails and

(07:03):
scenic overlooks of the river and bay. No cranes, no sawdust, no cargo, just wind and water.
The river's mouth is still there, still narrow, still shallow, still shaped by the same sand
that once stopped a town in its tracks. This has been end of the road in Michigan. If you enjoyed

(07:24):
this episode, subscribe and leave a review wherever you get your podcasts. And if you know of another
Michigan town that history left behind, send it our way.