When the Pioneers came to this country
There was no parade or marching band
To greet them on arrival
To this wild majestic land.

But they were not downhearted
For one purpose they had come
To start a new life in this land
And make themselves a home.

You can close your eyes and picture
This panoramic scene
A wilderness unspoiled by man
Mile on mile of forests green.

It took some doing to clear the land
To plow, to reap and seed
And brave the northern winters
They were a very special breed.

Their days were full from sun to sun
With farming, building and general repairs
By living on and improving, five long years
The homestead was finally theirs.

No doubt there were times of loneliness
As they thought of loved ones far away
But this was their home and they sank their roots
Deep in the red Munuscong clay.

They named the town after Charles Pickford
The man who owned the store
A century later we’re still proud of that name
Just as in the days of yore.

Schools were built to educate the children
Because learning was a must
And houses of worship were erected too
For in God they put their trust.

Top students have been graduated 
From our accredited Pickford School
And as for the Department of Athletics
Winners have been the rule.

Seeds of thrift and wisdom
Into each young mind are sewn
And wherever our people do business
They have always held their own.

In the immortal words of Sir Winston Churchill
There was blood, sweat, and tears
In the starting and the building
Of Pickford’s First One Hundred Years.

For over forty years around Labor Day
There was an exposition beyond compare
Where the farmers contested, and showed their stock  
At the memorable Pickford Fair.

Yes, you and I are a part of all this
As descendants of these pioneers
By completing this century of progress
Pickford’s First One Hundred Years.

Now the days of the oxen and horse are gone
When they would tote the heavy load
Trucks haul the products to market
On a smooth new blacktop road.

The machinery age has turned it all around
On the farms and in the woods
At harvesting crops and cutting down trees
Modern machines produce the goods.

Some say it’s Michigan’s last frontier
And this not by chance or fate.
I don’t know where you’d find its equal
In this or any other state.

Pickford has a volunteer Fire Department
And for perfection they aspire
With modern trucks and equipment
To protect our homes from fire.

The Doctors with the horse and buggy
That made sick calls door to door
Have been replaced by an up to date ambulance
And an efficient well trained corps.

We also have a golf course
Where players of good renown
Can try their luck at breaking par
Just two miles north of town.

This is truly a water, winter wonderland
Where tourists come to hunt, fish, and play
Entranced by the beauty and our way of life
Many purchase a home and stay.

To the good folk who have come our way
We extend a welcome hand
Opportunity is here for all who seek
Throughout the breadth of our great land.

New ideas are in demand
As to the future we look ahead
For there must be progress always
Or accept defeat instead.

Pickford is starting its second century
Full of hope, some doubts and fears.
We wonder what it will be like
Through the next one hundred years.

Forward, upward, onward
This must our motto ever be
To stay abreast of this changing world
In the home of the brave and the free.

For although we belong to another generation
Just like the early Pioneers
Proud are we to have been a part
Of Pickford’s First One Hundred Years. 
 
 
 

By boat they came to the shores of our Peninsula
To the hinterland they had to walk
But this deterred them not in their search for a home
For they were of sturdy Pioneer Stock.

In quest of a new life they came bravely
Leaving friends and loved ones behind
Farmers, lumberjacks, businessmen,
 blacksmiths, and mill men
Not one slacker could you find.

Charles Pickford owned the trading post
For supplies to his door they came.
Should any man be so honored
That such a village would adopt his name?

They cut the timber, rafted the logs
Cleared and plowed the fertile soil
Built houses and barns and fenced the land
By honest sweat and years of toil.

To help each other was a way of life.
A friend in need they would not see.
Neighbors gathered around to raise the barns
For clearing the land they had a Bee.

The hay was cut and the grain was threshed
This they did each year without fail
For the products they raised were much in demand
And were hauled by horse and sleigh to the rail.

With land to farm and chores to do
Large families were the thing
With the days work done at the set of sun
They would read The Book and sing.

Schools were built for the children 
Churches were erected too
The Word of God was preached for all to hear

Businessmen prospered as this county grew
For progress they took a firm stand.
They always looked ahead to the future
Then the telephone came to our land.

Three doctors gave their services
Doctors Fox, Cameron, and Webster carried the load.
When a child was born or a sick call came
They took their horses and hit the road.

The first mail came by foot or horseback
Then next by horse drawn stage
Horses hauled the freight as well as the mail
Until cars and trucks came of age.

The Settlers became Citizens accepted their duties.
Many for this country gave their lives.
They marched off to war without hesitation
Mourned by families, sweethearts, and wives.

Pickford has been blessed by its surrounding country
From DeTour all the way to the Soo.
We look on these people as our good friends and neighbors
For their ancestors were Pioneers too.

The name of Pickford means home to many
Though some have wandered afar.
We have left the days of the horse and buggy
Now we live with the jet and the car.

Many good souls have been laid to rest
Since the first plow broke the sod.
Now soon with Centennial Celebration
These first Pioneers we’ll land.

Pickford yesterday, today, and tomorrow
Our pride in you grows with the years.
We accept the heritage that’s been left to us
By our fore bearers, the Pioneers.