Beginning in the early 1870s, railroad construction increased dramatically across the United States. Prior to 1871, approximately 45,000 miles of track had been laid. Between 1871 and 1900, a whopping 170,000 miles were added to the nation’s growing railroad system. While the race to build the iron road was dramatic, it was far from graceful. As the railroad thundered westward, a mobile city of saloons, gambling houses, and brothels, referred to as Hell on Wheels, would follow in its wake. These towns were often at the end of the line and prospered from the hard-earned cash of the laborers. Railroad construction camps attracted a variety of rough and tumble characters, many looking for entertainment. Unfortunately, aside from liquor, there was little to keep the men entertained.

In the 1890s, Munich, North Dakota, was at the end of the railroad line. Like many towns in that position, businesses were popping up to accommodate the influx of railroad workers. Hotels offering entertainment, gambling, and whiskey appeared almost overnight. Known as blind pigs, Munich, at one time, was home to thirteen of them. That many blind pigs was sure to mean one thing: trouble, and the town certainly wasn’t immune.

In 1906, Peter Gunnlaugur Johnson was elected to be Cavalier County State’s Attorney. Perhaps some community members hoped he would tamper down the mischief. But Johnson only served one term. According to the Milton Globe, he was far too diligent in enforcing laws, especially as they pertained to blind pigs. The trouble in Munich continued until the end of the line moved to Sarles, taking the blind pigs with it.