There are some places that you spend your whole life hearing stories of. Stories of a far away town that has long been forgotten except by those whose heart it touched. For my Gram this place was Zap, North Dakota. Zap, the little town with a big heart, is the place where Gram’s grandparents laughed and played and forged their own new beginnings by homesteading the plains. It was also where they imprinted their zest for life and love of people on Gram. She always talked about her relationship with her grandparents and Zap was the place of her earliest memories. I had to see for myself what it was about this town and time that held her heart.

I have always had an itch for adventure. My grandparents were world travelers and their wanderlust rubbed off on me. My husband and I have been full time RV travelers for nearly a year now and when I found myself within reach of Zap, North Dakota there was no question that I needed to see where this passion for life came from. Particularly, it was the open door attitude displayed by my great great grandparents that perked my curiosity. Gram said that it was the sort of place where the door was was always open to the wayward traveler and as a traveler myself I can appreciate their generosity.

As a young couple the Neville’s left the comfort of their home in Iowa for opportunity to homestead in Zap in the midwest of North Dakota. As a young woman with young kids Grandma Neville was often alone on the prairie while the men were off working. She told stories of those early years when the Indians would show up whenever she was baking and how they once brought moccasins for the children after she loaned them a wagon wheel. The stories felt very little house on the prairie to me and I loved them.

My grandmother came to stay with her Neville grandparents when she was of age to go to school and her parents were looking for work and a home of their own. Around that time Zap had a population of near 400 people. Starting as a coal mining town, Zap officially became a city in 1913 after the railroad came through. It is said to be named after a mining city in Ireland named Zapp only it was Americanized by removing the extra P.

Grams grandfather was then working as the rural mail carrier in Zap so he had a truck to take her to school on those blustery winter days. The open door policy still existed and neighbors and strangers alike would stop by for a game of cards or a jig. Poetry was enjoyed as well and one of the favorites was this little gem by Sam Walter Foss

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the peace of their self content;
There are souls, like stars, that swell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze theri paths
Where highways never ran;
But let me live on the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
Let me live on the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by;
The men who are good and the men who are bad;
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorners seat,
Or hurl the cynical ban;
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
I see from my house by the side of the road
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are failnt with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears
Both parts of an infinate plan;
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend of man.
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by;
They are good, they are bad, they are weak,
They are strong.
Wise, foolish, so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorners seat
Or hurl the cynics ban!?
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

It was this sort of pioneering spirit. An open door, an open attitude, and acceptance that Gram carried on with her own family. So I was sort of drawn to Zap as a pioneer of sorts myself. The town today has near the population it had at founding around 250 people however it has yoyo’d up to 550+ a couple times over the decades. What once held store fronts to fulfill people’s basic needs has given way to cars and highways that lead to bigger towns. Today businesses are sparce on Zap’s main street and few cars move through the town.

Zap is most famous for the 1969 Zip to Zap, North Dakota’s only riot. The idea of a local college student who couldn’t afford spring break in Florida boasted Zap as the Ft Lauderdale of the north. News spread and nearly 3000 people converged on this tiny town of 300. At first the towns people opened their doors but when beer the ran out and the night got cold students took to the streets damaging businesses and seting a bon fire on main st. By morning the National Gaurd was called in and the crowds dispersed. Zap still hasn’t gotten over that one.

By the time the Zip to Zap riot happened the Neville family had left North Dakota for work in the bay area of California. The days on the homestead however never left the minds and the hearts of the children who spent those developing years on the plains. Uncle Bob touted a California license plate that said ZAP ND and Gram shared stories of her early school years with a sweet tenderness in her eye. Though today Zap may look like another North Dakota town struggling to exist, there is more to it’s soul. This town is the blood, sweat, and tears as well as the laughter, joy, and love of it’s people, both today and of yesteryear. So next time you drive through some little town whose buildings have decayed give thought to it’s heart and the people who love it so, for we all have a heart for the place we call home.

https://bismarcktribune.com/news/local/th-anniversary-of-infamous-zip-to-zap-party-nears/article_d2f0dc9a-85ac-533d-8431-b2f34360906e.html

http://www.wrtc.com/zapnd/