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Posting for
Monday, June 10, 2002
by:
Bert Rush
brush@firstam.com
THE "BIG INCH"/YUKON
LAND/SERGEANT PRESTON
If you're old enough to remember Sergeant
Preston, or breakfast cereal "shot from guns," maybe you also
remember the Quaker Oats Yukon land giveaway of 1955.
It started in October 1954, with Quaker
Oats marketing execs looking for a gimmick to promote their "Puffed
Rice" and "Puffed Wheat" cereal products. At the time, Quaker Oats sponsored a radio
show for the younger set, "Sergeant Preston of the Yukon," that was
scheduled to move to television in the fall of 1955. So they wanted an ad campaign to feature Sergeant Preston and
hype the new TV series.
Their idea man was Bruce Baker, a Chicago
advertising exec, who—one sleepless night--hit on the idea of giving away
square-inch lots of land in "Sergeant Preston's Yukon," by putting
deeds in specially-marked boxes of Quaker Oats cereals.
The idea was not bad. At the time, cereal makers marketed to kids
by giving away trading cards, whistles and plastic toys--some items costing as
much as 5 cents per unit. Baker thought
he could give away deeds for much less.
But the cereal maker's Chicago
headquarters (and especially their attorneys) hated the idea. They pointed out that, even in the
hinterlands of western Canada, the only way to create legal lots would be to
prepare a survey map, which (if it included separate lot numbers) would
probably be larger than the land itself.
Worse, the deeds would have to be registered in the local Torrens
system--requiring payment of prohibitive fees.
Undaunted, Baker and two other men (one
of them a Quaker Oats ad executive) chartered a plane and flew to the Yukon.
Landing in Whitehorse, the three Americans
introduced themselves to local attorney George Van Roggen. Van Roggen listened, and found himself
"entertained" by the ad men's antics. But for Van Roggen, the question was whether, in Canada, one
could give away deeds that wouldn't or couldn't be individually registered in
the land records system. He gave the
opinion that "you could, that they'd be legal."
Buoyed by this advice, Baker quickly got
approval from Quaker Oats to go ahead.
In the meantime, Van Roggen found 19.11 acres of government land,
located seven miles up the Yukon River from Dawson, that could be purchased for
$1,000.
On October 7, the three Americans were
driven to Dawson, where they met up with Constable Paul LeCocq--a real, live
Royal Canadian Mountie, who had a dog named "Yukon King" (as did the
fictional Sergeant Preston). Matter of
fact, fan mail received locally for "Sergeant Preston" was delivered
to LeCocq.
Constable LeCocq took the three Americans, in their Brooks Brothers suits, in an open skiff up the Yukon River to the 19 acre parcel. One of the Americans, John Baker (who was a lawyer, and the brother of ad man Bruce Baker) recalled that the weather was frigid, "several degrees below zero," and the river was "a forbidding sight with ice cakes zooming by." Here's how John described the 19 acres in his journal: "Fairly level with a beach of stones about 100 feet wide; quite thick with jackpine and spruce, poplar and birch."
When the party returned to Dawson they
were tired, cold and wet. Bruce Baker's
feet were badly frostbitten. Quaker
Oats bought the land.
Later, John Baker and George Van Roggen
drew up the deed language. The Grantor
would be a specially-formed corporation to be called "Klondike Big Inch
Land Co., Inc." The Grantee would
be...(fill in your name). The legal
description would refer to a "Tract Number," more particularly
described in "that certain subdivision plan...deposited in the registered
office of the Grantor in the Yukon Territory." The deeds excluded mineral rights (which had been reserved in the
original grant from the Crown), and provided for a perpetual easement over each
square-inch lot for the benefit of surrounding lot owners.
So there was no survey map. Instead, the deeds were numbered
consecutively following a master plan that made its "point of
beginning" the northwest corner of the 19 acres. If you wanted to find a certain lot number, theoretically you
would start at the northwest corner, go X number of inches east, then go X
number of inches south, and there it would be.
Theoretically.
Twenty-one million deeds were printed,
and the ad campaign was launched on the Sergeant Preston radio show on January
27, 1955. Ads ("You'll actually
own one square inch of Yukon land in the famous gold country!") appeared
in 93 newspapers.
The campaign was a sensational
success. The specially-marked
("Get Free Gold Rush Land Today!") boxes of Quaker Oats cereal fairly
flew off of grocers' shelves. Before
long, they were all gone. Lots of kids,
myself included, were "too late."
Meanwhile, letters poured in to Quaker
Oats offices. New landowners wanted to
know where their land was located, how much it was worth, and "is there
gold there?" One kid sent in four
toothpicks and some string, requesting his inch be fenced.
In Buffalo, NY, newspapers carried a
story about a man being tried for murdering his wife with an ice pick. On the third day of trial, the defense
attorney made a motion to be removed from the case. Turned out the attorney had been promised to be paid with
"land in the Yukon," only to learn this "land" consisted of
his client's collection of 1,000 "Big Inch" deeds.
Unfortunately, no one paid taxes on the
19 acres, and in 1965 it was sold by the Canadian government for an arrearage
of $37.20. According to an August 2000
article in the Whitehorse Star newspaper, "a Quaker Oats spokesman in
Chicago claims the company never received a tax bill." Maybe "Yukon King" ate it.
Meanwhile, the "Klondike Big Inch
Land Co." was quietly dissolved in 1966.
To this day, inquiries still come to
Quaker Oats (now a division of Pepsico), and the Canadian government, about
"Big Inch" deeds. According
to Steven Horn, Chief Legislative Counsel for the Department of Justice in the
Yukon, inquiries typically come from lawyers representing estates with assets
including one or more of the deeds, and they always get the same answer: The deeds are and always were
"unregisterable."
A cruel hoax? Consumer fraud??
Consider this: A "Big
Inch" deed now fetches up to $40 on the collectible market, and they are
suitable for framing. To view one,
click on the URLs below.
http://ul.firstam.com/landsakes/QuakerOats.pdf
http://ul.firstam.com/landsakes/QuakerDeal.pdf
Many thanks to in-house counsel Richard
Hanesiak (Mississauga, Ontario, Canada) for helping research this saga.
**********
Following Monday's posting, Rich Angelo
(King of Prussia/Philadelphia, PA) writes:
What a
fabulously interesting affair. This will make a great story for one of my
lectures. I'm sorry I was a little too
young to get a deed.
Kristin Laurin (Manhattan) writes:
This was
my favorite Landsakes. I had a surveyor
from PA tell that in the 1920s movie theaters in PA beside giving away dishes
as prizes also gave away parcels of land (I think they were 100 X 20 lots). One story was that in the 60s or 70s a group
wanted to develop the area where one winner's lot was located. The winner was an 80 year old woman living
in England, the developers offered her $10,000, $20,000 - I believe they went
as high as $50,000.00 but she would not sell so they built around her lot.
Jim Weston (Warrenville/Chicagoland)
writes:
I am
crushed to learn that my "inch" is gone! Never did get a tax bill or
notice. Now that I think of it, that was probably the only time we ever bought
the cereal as neither my brother nor I liked it. Goes to show that you get what
you pay for.
Don Schenker (Madison, WI) writes:
Although
not on quite the same scale as the "Klondike Big Inch Company",
Kenosha County, Wisconsin has a not dissimilar situation called Carol Beach.
In order
to promote subscriptions to the Chicago Tribune in the 1930s, the Tribune, gave
subscribers a lot in the Carol Beach Subdivision. These lots were quite small, I believe about 5-10 feet wide. Most
ended up being taken by the county for taxes. Other lots would pass unprobated
from one of those original grantees to there heirs, to their heirs' heirs and
so forth. Amazingly taxes would be paid on some of these lots year after year.
In recent
years, enterprising folks have assembled enough of these lots to make a
buildable parcel.
Was there
not a similar story in Southern L.A. County or Northern Orange County in the
early part of the 20th century. Then oil was discovered on the
"worthless" land?
Reply by Bert Rush: I don't recall such a story from L.A. or
Orange County. Anyone??
David Dickson (Memphis, TN) writes:
Thanks
for the reminder of my teen years. I was a senior in high school in October
1954 and had been a fan of the radio show. I guess I was too old to really appreciate
the TV version though I did look at it from time to time. I did have one of the deeds however which
disappeared sometime between my entering college and later the navy. I
entertained fantasies of fencing it off and just being generally obnoxious but
practical considerations (and girls) intervened. $40, probably could use that!
Jack Murray (Chicago) writes:
Being the
old goat that I am, I remember (although a little more vaguely these days)
"Sgt. Preston of the Yukon," his trusty dog Yukon King, and Quaker's
Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice that were "shot from guns." I, also, was
"too late" to obtain my own "square inch" of the Yukon
territory.
The TV
series ran from 1955-58, and starred Richard Simmons (no, not THAT Richard
Simmons!) as Sergeant Preston. To this day, as reported in "Hake's Guide
to Character Toys," of the "Top 10 Most Valuable Character Pin-Back
Buttons," Sergeant Preston of the Yukon comes in at No. 3 (1949, $3000)
and No. 9 (1956, $2000).
You can
still obtain, in DVD or VHS format, the movie "Sergeant Preston of the
Yukon," which was made in 1955. According to one individual who viewed the
movie and commented on it on the Internet:
"'I
arrest you in the name of the Crown.' With these words, Sergeant Preston and
his loyal dog, Yukon King, always got their man. Played by Richard
"Dick" Simmons, Sergeant Preston patrolled the western reaches of the
Canadian frontier in the 1890s. Action and justice in such locales as
Yellowknife, Dawson, and Whitehorse were seen each Saturday morning by the same
kids who had just finished watching The Lone Ranger and Sky King. The Series
episodes featured stories set against the harsh extremes of the Yukon winter
and summers in the Canadian Rockies. To match the climate, Preston would trade his
dogsled for his horse, Rex. King was
along wherever the good sergeant went. Simmons was the perfect embodiment of
Sergeant Preston, the pride of the Northwest Mounted. To this day (despite Due
South) when I picture a Mountie . . . it's always Sergeant Preston. And of
those of us who watched the show as kids, who can forget that stirring theme
music and the words with which Sergeant Preston closed each episode, 'Well,
King, this case is closed.'"
Frankly,
being the litigious society that we are, I am surprised that no
"clever" lawyer has sued Quaker on the basis of "consumer
fraud," "breach of contract," "intentional infliction of
emotional distress," ad infinitum, ad nauseam. Also, perhaps an action for
"specific performance" would be in order?! (Reminds me of the old
joke about the tailor who was sued for "promise of breeches").
R.J. Dold (Houston, TX) writes:
I ran
across a similar circumstance when I was abstracting title here in TX in an
area just north of Houston. It seems
that a developer was selling one acre lots to folks up north that wanted to
'own a piece of an oil well in Texas'.
There were deeds to folks all over the US and Canada, most dating back
to the 20's and 30's. Interesting thing
was, the developer bought a 600 acre tract, then platted almost 700 1-acre lots
out of the 600 acre parcel! The last
time I checked, there was a local branch of a title company that had taken it
upon themselves to try and clear title, but with little success.
BTW, I
remember Sgt Preston of the Yukon!
**********
Following up on Monday's posting, and his
own reply, Don Schenker (Madison, WI) writes:
I checked
a book on L.A. history I have at home. The lots were in Huntington Beach and
were given away to people who bought a particular set of encyclopedias. Sorry I
did not have the details earlier.
Keith Pearson writes:
In
response to Don Schenker's inquiry regarding a similar scheme in Orange County,
I believe he was thinking about the "Encyclopedia lots" in Huntington
Beach, CA. Lots were given away with the purchase of encyclopedias and I
believe some of the lots turned into moneymakers from oil and gas pockets
located underneath them. I am going on stories told to me by residents of
Orange County as I am not old enough to remember these things personally... but
the idea of land giveaways has not gone away. I remember a story of a town in
the Texas panhandle that was giving building lots away in the 1990's because
the town population was shrinking and they wanted to save the town by bringing in
outsiders with the enticement of free land.
Ron Cordonnier (Roseville/Sacramento, CA)
writes:
Like Jack
I too fondly remember watching Sky King the Lone Ranger and Sgt Preston,
stirring stories of yester-year! I also
remember buying one Square foot of the Moon in the Early 1970's while finishing
my degree at CSU in Sacramento. Mr Moon
and his very skimpily dressed Mrs. Moon (all in tin foil type outfits) came
every year to sell a piece of the moon to the student body.
I only
hope my square foot is underneath the moon rover vehicle left over from Apollo
missions. I could then charge NASA rent
since the day I bought my parcel.
Nancy Eisenschiml (St. Louis, MO) writes:
I just
know that if you had been made aware of the claim below, you would have grabbed
the next plane to Branson! We'll get
you there yet!
Very few
claims are fun but one that gave me a good laugh was from a woman whose
attorney wrote us claiming that we had ignored her ownership of a square inch of
land when we insured an entertainment park of a famous movie star. In Branson, of course!
This
claimant received her deed for a square inch lot as shown on a plat
(unrecorded, thank goodness), with her purchase of a t-shirt. I believe the grantor was Funland
Corporation and, yes, it was the record titleholder. The claimant did spend the
$20.00 to record her deed and then waited for land development. When I received the claim, I told claimant's
attorney that we needed to know exactly where the "lot" was located
in order to proceed to investigate the claim.
I naively thought this would be the end of this but, as we know, no
claim goes away that quickly.
Months
later, I received a letter from the attorney telling me the square inch lot was
"somewhere near the parking lot."
When we informed the attorney that there were over a million square
inches at this park and that without his being able to accurately locate their
square inch they had no valid deed, they gave up. But, I can never see a commercial for this entertainer's Branson
show without thinking about that square inch!
Mike Waiwood (Cleveland, OH) writes:
For all
you 50's and 60's nostalgia buffs, you can purchase repro videos of the Sky
King series from the Experimental Aircraft Assn. Visit www.eaa.org. My children love them. Happy
landings.
**********
Following up on Monday's posting, and
replies, Bryan Merrell (Anchorage, AK) writes:
In the
not too distant past, they ran a similar promotion here in Alaska for square
inch tracts around the Iditarod Trail.
I seem to recall getting a phone call and fax from someone in the
"Lower 48" asking if we'd insure one! I said "No thanks",
though I strongly considered issuing a "short form" policy. I'm not sure what happened to those
"lots" either. By the way, I
can remember watching Sgt. Preston reruns up here when I was a kid, too.
Gerard Knorr (Troy/Detroit, MI), in
response to Mike Waiwood's reply, writes:
Who does Mike
think he is kidding? He purchased the Sky King videos for himself.
As I
recall Sgt. Preston ran on radio in the early 50s in a fifteen minute serial
format, grouped with three other fifteen minute serials. The other shows were
Sky King, The Green Hornet, and a show about and American Indian warrior named
Straight Arrow. How is that for memory for items of trivia? I do recall considering sending in the box
top or tops for the Sgt. Preston one square inch offer but opted for the Green
Hornet decoder ring. I think my Mother refused to purchase two brands of
cereals my brother and I would not eat.
Reply by Bert Rush: Actually, the "Big Inch" deeds
were inside the cereal boxes, so it wasn't necessary to send in one or more
boxtops. You're also reminding me how I
missed out on this. My mother insisted
I eat up all the other cereals she'd bought to accommodate my weakness for
giveaways. By the time I did, all the
"Big Inch" deeds were gone. I
think it was the Cheerios that slowed me down....
Tom Stoermer (Stockton, CA) writes:
Well if
you can stand just one more?? Back in the late 70's when I was working for that
other company named for a windy mid-west city--we had a deal for a new shopping
mall in Newark, CA. Turned out that a portion of the land to be developed
comprised several acres of 10 foot by 20 foot "soap lots". This was
land actually mapped and deeds given away in boxes of detergent, back in the
20's. Of course, at that time this land was merely mud flats near the edge of
San Francisco Bay. We were able to chain out about 60 per cent of the owners
and the remaining were cleared through quiet title actions. Made for a very
lengthy, but interesting title search.
**********
Following up on last Monday's posting, Joe
Bartle (Grass Valley, CA) writes:
Since
we're on the subject of "promotional land deals" (albeit not quite as
interesting as the "big inch"), I believe in the early 1900's you
could acquire title to a lot in a subdivision in the Santa Cruz Mountains
(conveniently located on the side of a hill) by simply subscribing to the San
Francisco Chronicle.
Comment by Bert Rush: Or, in the 1890s, a lot on Martha's Vineyard
by buying a man's suit....
http://firstam.com/faf/html/news/chronicles/1606.html
