While reading a local history book entitled Granite Falls 1879-1979 - a Century's Search for Quality of Life authored by Carl and Amy Narvestad this little story about an incident at the first jail was worth a good chuckle...
"It was to this jail that Judd Peterman was headed one day with a burly prisoner when he was nearly bested by his charge. Judd, a man who had a reputation for being able to use his fists, had been named Granite Falls' policeman. On morning he collared a hefty hobo and was hauling him to the lock-up, followed by an army of barefooted boys, eager to witness any excitement which might develop. And develop it did, for when Judd momentarily let go the prisoner to get his key in the padlock and unlock the door, the miscreant slugged Judd, laying him down. There was a dandy free-for-all for a minute with Judd apparently getting the worst of it. But the action was witnessed by Judd's 70 year-old mother who had been churning butter under a tree in the lot to the west where the Petermans lived. Not a person to stand idly by watching her son take a beating, she grabbed a 5-lbs. crock of butter and joined the fray. By now the criminal sat stride Judd raining blows to his face. But not for long, as Mrs. Peterman lifted the jar of butter high in the air and brought it down on the hobo's bared head. The jar shattered, the hobo sank to the ground yellow with butter. Slowly Judd extricated himself from under the heap. He grabbed one leg of the hobo, his mother the other and they dragged the dazed prisoner into the clink."
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