How a small village in Wisconsin went viral almost 60 years ago

The year was 1967. The place was Winneconne, a small village and self-proclaimed “fishing mecca” in northeastern Wisconsin – according to Polly Zimmerman’s book “We Like it Where?: Sovereign State of Winneconne” – at the confluence of two lakes in central eastern Wisconsin.

The problem was that Wineconne was accidentally omitted from the state's official road map that year. Where the village should have been, there was only “an empty little circle,” Zimmerman wrote.

Her book is about both the extremely successful marketing of Winneconne and the place itself.

At a time when people relied on physical cards, Winneconne had good reason to worry about declining tourism revenues.

The solution was simple. Local politicians wrote a letter to Wisconsin Governor Warren P. Knowles asking him to revise the maps to include Winneconne.

But Governor Knowles replied that redesigning the maps was simply not possible – but stressed that the village would “definitely appear on the 1968 map.”

That wasn't good enough for Winneconne.

The governor got far more than he bargained for with the small village's bombastic response: a statewide competition to figure out how to put Winneconne back on the map, backed by Congressman William Steiger, Zimmerman said in the book. An all-expenses-paid weekend trip to Winneconne was the prize.

As part of the “How to Put Winneconne Back on the Map” competition, the village received over 1,000 responses, including:

• “Change the name.” -TG Nicholas, Chicago, Ill.
• “Let me win a weekend and I will advertise it.” -Viola Salmi, Chicago, Ill.
• “Have topless go-go girls that are at least 46.” -Donald Sukach, River Grove, Illinois.

The winning entry was far more drastic than all the others.

The idea came from Janice Badtke and Kay H. Klipstine, Wisconsin natives who worked as congressional staffers and fellow residents of Washington, D.C. The pair submitted six entries to the contest, all of which were rather warmongering. Their ideas, Zimmerman said, included publicly burning maps, moving the CIA headquarters to Winneconne and using pirates on the Wolf River to collect tributes from local boaters.

But the winning entry went one step further. Several steps further. It read:

“Winneconne secedes from the United States and declares war on them. The Republic of Winneconne is proclaimed. Authorities seize federal property and detain the postmaster as an enemy alien. Request a UN peacekeeping mission to prevent hostilities on the border and preserve the territorial integrity of Winneconne. Close the Port of Winnecone to U.S. ships and enforce a 12-mile limit.”

The jury of the competition looked at this proposal to steal, kidnap and militarize and said: “Yes.”

Preparations for secession began. In the end, Winneconne – a village with fewer than 2,000 inhabitants – stuck to the secession and decided not to take military action.

An official declaration of secession was delivered to Governor Knowles, and on July 22, 1967 Winneconne hosted a grand celebration with parades, boat races, community breakfasts, a one-day toll bridge, and more. Residents lowered the state flag and raised the banner of the new ruler.

Officially, the secession lasted less than 24 hours. But since then it has been celebrated almost every year at the Sovereign State Days Festival.

It took a lot of people to put the festival together, but Chamber of Commerce President Vera Kitchen was the mastermind behind it all.

Kay Larson and Lori Meyerhofer-Fisher, both of Kitchen's nieces, told Wisconsin Today they described her as strong-willed and extremely capable, a workaholic full of energy and a woman who was way ahead of her time – qualities that legends are made of.

Winneconne's spin-off was essentially a brilliant PR stunt that worked. Zimmerman writes about the “media deluge” that the Village contest and subsequent spin-off unleashed. Winneconne went viral before it was even viral.

And it turns out that Governor Knowles was in on the joke all along. Knowles was honorary chairman of the “How to Put Winneconne Back on the Map” contest. He had the final say on who won.

Knowles was happy to play the role the village assigned him – that of the repentant politician. Winneconne sent the governor detailed instructions on exactly how the “secession” would proceed.

After Winneconne raised its flag, the governor called Kitchen and village president Jim Coughlin to “express his regret on behalf of the State of Wisconsin that the village found the secession step necessary and to assure the village that it will be shown on the 1968 map and that it will be represented on US 41 at the junction with 110.”

Of course, the call was broadcast over Winneconne's public address system so that all the villagers could hear it.

The State Highway Commission's mistake and Winneconne's response to it made national headlines, with one article stating that the mayor of Valparaiso, Indiana, invited Winneconne to become part of his state.

In her congratulatory letter to the contest winners, Zimmerman said, Kitchen included a copy of the Winneconne News and gloated about the press the city received:

“You may have noticed that the jury deliberations were reported by the AP and carried in many newspapers, radio and television stations throughout the United States. Your visit here should provide you with another explosion of news and photos.”

Sovereign State Days was the jewel in Kitchen's crown of unusual, attention-grabbing marketing campaigns. She later moved to California and entered the real estate business, developing silly, unusual advertising campaigns, such as one in which she “revved the engine” on a motorcycle to direct buyers to her development.

Before heading the local chamber of commerce, she worked for the Red Cross and taught English to the Italian wives of American soldiers. She taught in a one-class school. She also owned and operated a restaurant, an ice cream shop and a gas station where she did her own oil changes, Larson and Meyerhofer-Fisher said.

“Look at 1967. How many women were there in that field?” Meyerhoffer-Fisher told Wisconsin Today.

“She wanted to be different, to stand out. And of course she did that,” Larson added.

Kitchen died in 2012 at the age of 98. Her legacy lives on in her community.

Although Winneconne has been back on the map for nearly 60 years, Winneconne residents come together every summer to celebrate the holiday that started Kitchen and the history that makes their small village unforgettable.