Some time ago the Yorktowne Hotel donated a large signal horn to the museum. It was thought to be a relic from WWII and had been on the roof for decades. While searching for other information on the museum newspaper micro films, I came across the who, what when and why about the horn.

It was erected as a warning siren in the first test of local Civil Defense plans in September, 1953. Local CD director Joseph Garrety said the revolving horn “was the biggest one-engine air raid siren in this part of the country.”

The morning paper showed city workers putting the motor of the $2,500 “Direkto” on the highest point of the roof. It was expected to be heard as far west as the five mile house and to Stony Brook to the east. It was said to be the highest flat surface in the city.

The siren would be used several days later as part of York County’s first Civil Defense disaster drill. Hundreds of volunteers, including Civil Defense members. Boy Scouts, Civil Air Patrol squadrons, city and county officials and hundreds of others. The main staging area was Memorial Stadium.

The test began on Sunday, September 20, 1953 with the simulation of an atomic bomb going off in the first block of West Market Street. Many stores and the Trinity Church cross were “destroyed.”

In reality the three-hour test took place on the parking lot of the stadium. 2500 people from three counties took part. The simulation included 250 injured citizens The siren, along with others in the area, wailed “at 12:53 in the first local all-out ‘York Day’ air raid test,” said the Gazette and Daily.

Those feigning injury were transported to the parking lot of the stadium. Numerous local agencies took part in the enactment. 2000 Civil Defense workers from three counties took part. Several squadrons of area Civil Air Patrols patrolled the skies. 250 Boy Scouts also helped by simulating the injured. 1000 people inside the stadium heard Otis Morse talk about the test as it progressed.

Director Garrety called the test a great success.

Today, the Yorktowne siren is stored at the York County Heritage Trust. Aging Civil Defense shelter signs can still be seen on buildings in the area. Memories of the cold war, such as practicing “duck and cover” remain with many of the children of the era, now the geezers of today.

Source: The Gazette and Daily 9/17/1953, 9/21/1953

Considered by many to be the greatest magician of all time, Harry Houdini amazed Yorkers when he performed at the Orpheum Theater for four nights in 1926.  His visit  included feats of mystery and illusion, a challenge from a chain company, debunking fakirs and mediums  and an appearence before Congress.

Listed are some of the illusions performed on opening night: The crystal casket, Alladin’s Lamp, the magic rose bush, the mystic huntsman, Fleurette’s transition, the exchange of human beings locked and sealed in a corded trunk, the prisoner’s lament, the fountain of youth, summertime, wintertime, the radio of 1950, the miracles of Mahatma, the card sleights and the East Indian needle mystery.

A new feat involved Houdini throwing several alarm clocks into the airwhere they catch and then hang by chains in the air.

Deemed as a “spectacular mystery” was the water torture cell. Houdini was hung upside down over a container of water with his feet locked in a strong frame. He was lowered into a glass watertank and inside a steel cage. He was able to escape in exactly one minute.

On the first night Houdini was issued a challenge by employees of the American Chain and Cable Company that read: “This being your first visit to York and as we understand you are famous the world over in making escapes from various contivences,, we, the undersigned packers and shippers of the American Chain Company, Inc. hearby offer you the following proposition.

“We challenge you to allow us to make an ordinary packing case of heavy lumber, and we will guarantee to nail you in this case and rope it, so you will not, we believe beable to escape from same.

“If you accept this challenge, we will construct the box and send it to the theatre for examination. But, we demand a right to re-nail each and every board before you enter the box to prevent any preparation on your part.”

Houdini accepted the challenge. The next night Houdini entered the box, which had passed the inspection of several local judges. The Acco crew renailed the top with 55 nails.

“After the box had been placed on the front of the stage and before the curtains were lowered the floor beneath the surrounding case was examined and no traps found.  The curtains were then lowered and within the above stated time (six and one half minutes) the curtains were raised and Houdini was standing alongside the box  which was apparently in the same condition  as when the curtains were lowered,”said the Gazette and Daily.

Houdini pronounced the box stronger than when he entered it.In the interest of proving that there was no double involved, the box was destroyed with an axe.

(I wonder, was  the bottom of the box was checked? Perhaps Houdini removed the nails from the bottom prior to the show. After all, the story does say the box was sent to him for inspection.)

After the show Houdini left by train for Washington where he was to appear before Congress. Houdini spoke to two session of Congress in favor of a bill banning mediums and fakirs from charging fees for promising talks and contacts with dead loved ones. Houdini hated them and ended each show, including those in York, with a routine exposing  how it was done.

Afterwards, Houdini returned to York to finish his run at the Orpheum.

There was widespread panic and bewilderment when the earth rumbled and shook on March 8. 1889. At  about 6:40 pm the quake lasted   for ten seconds according to an account in one York paper. Residents ran screaming from their homes into the streets as buildings shook, windows rattlled.

“There was no warning of the approach of the vibrations, for there seems to have been two or three and they left as mysteriously as they came,” and “Pedestrians who were on the iron bridges spanning the Codorus at the time, state that the bars and rods fiercely rattled and the structures seemed in imminent danger of falling,”  The Age said.

At one home the piano chords emitted a low rumbling sound. An east end store had a large ceiling crack. Shelves at other shop were emptied  and bricks fell from chimneys. Reports from throughout the county told of similar woes. Reports of the duration of the quake ranged from several seconds to a minute.

People trembled as downtown buildings “vibrated visibly” and “A young man passing the Farmer’s Market House avowed the etire structure was shaking,” said The York Gazette.

It was felt in many counties in the state and also in Delaware and Maryland.The quake of 1889 was deemed stronger than a quake that shook York in 1884.

Located on Old Salem Road, the Dogtown school most recently was home to a seemingly eccentric old timer unable to handle the upkeep of the property. Many of us are too young to remember the one room schoolhouses, but have an affinity for these old elementary schools. Many, such as my old school Elmwood Elementary, still remain for those of us who like to remember the good old days.  I have a story about the Dogtown school that raises several points. Were the good old days that good? Is there really that much difference between then and now?

In the early 1920′s the principal of the Dogtown school was driven to the brink of frustration when threatened by his students. Books, insults, fists and sticks and stones flew when the out-of-control teens acted up. Principal C. C. Livingstone, while talking with a newspaper reporter, had the doors locked and secured with boards and was extremely emotional.

With a protective board in his hand the principal, in a trembling voice, “unfolded the story of alleged repeated attacks on him and the abuse by the local boys. He claimed the boys of the upper grades were the leaders of the ring which is made up of nearly everyone at the school.”

Livingstone, a veteran of 30 years in the field in three states, called the Dogtown students the worst in his career. The most recent incident started when a young man named Lester Sipe attacked him.     When Livingstone was writing on the blackboard, he turned around to find that Sipe had blackened his face. The teacher, when admonishing Sipe, was told to “go to a place hotter than a bakery,” the evening paper reported.

When the boy tried to take a swing at him Livingstone recipricated with a push, causing him to fall on his backside, the paper reported. T e other students started throwing books and howling like wolves. After dismissal, some of the students hid in trees and bushes while taunting the teacher to come out. Livingstone sent one of the woman teachers to get the authorities, who did not come to free the teacher until after dark.

Livingstone told the sheriff that he’d been abused several times previously and that the teacher he had replaced had resigned from the school a nervous wreck. ”The teacher claims there are a number of 16 year oldpupils in his school who cannot do simple arithmetic,” said The Dispatch

In 1926 the Penn Common Community Association dedcated this building that now stands unused near College Avenue, across from William Penn High School. Among the 500 people attending the event were prominent citizens and a Civil War veteran. It was named The Penn-Coates Memorial Buiding and intended for public use.

The18 by 20 foot building has a basement and an upper floor.There were two columns at the doorway, seen in a news photo of the day.The upper room was to beused as a rest and reading room. The officer on duty at the commons would have a desk and phone.

“It is of Georgian design by James H. McClymont, architect, who contributed his work to the association. The approximate value of the building is $20,000,” the York Dispatch said.

Materials and other needs were provided by local businesses and citizens. The glass for the now boarded windows was provided by J. Horace Rudy. F. M. Dyer did the ceiling decorations, stone was donasted by Mahlon Haines and the slate roof by Kottcamp and Sons.

Attached to the community building were two bronze tablets. One honored John Penn and John Coates, who donated Penn Common to York in 1816. The other honored soldiers who camped on the grounds. One of the dedication day guests was 88 year old Frank Ginter, a veteran of the Cival War.

to be continued

The stone is Cockeysville marble with brick backing.

Earlier this week I attended a meeting of the Friends of the Farmer’s Market group. About fifteen people attended, tossing around ways to raise funds, publicize the market, get new standholders and so on. They’ve been doing a lot of hard work. I stopped by the market today and it’s looking good. It was busy as could be and the day was just beginning.

For me it was interesting to see a grassroots effort in its infancy. They sought answers to their questions with a nearly hour long Q and A with State Rep. Eugene DePasquale who was very gracious with his time and advice. It was interesting to sit in on a group with a common goal for the common good. Improving and reviving the market.

The idea of the renovation is a great idea for bringing attention and funds to an area of York that needs it. The group’s idea and planned activities, along with activities planned by a nearby church could serve as the start of a revival for an area rich with history, memories, and possibilities.

I hope the Friends group helps the market come up with a vision that grows to fruition.

Hello from Spook Hill

Also known as Cabbane/New Prospect/Mayersville/North York (incorporated in 1899)

“PENNY HEAVEN”……..
The Story of Potter’s Field/York City Cemetery
by Dave Gulden/First rendition 1998/First revision 2004/Second revision March 2008

A small stone marker sits at the entrance to York City Cemetery. While it memorializes the site as hallowed ground, it gives no indication of what lies within its three acres. The first burials were in 1897. Many of those at rest within its borders are unknown, were unwanted or died alone. The tales of woe of what used to be called Potter’s Field are many, but the remembrances of them are few.

At one time potatoes were grown over the dead of the cemetery of the poor. A mother grieved over the wrong grave for years. The remains of twins found alongside a creek repose here also. Funds for upkeep were “lost.” A 1930 attempt to map the cemetery contains inaccuracies. Today children roam unattended and dogs defecate on the graves of the poor and unfortunates who never had a chance.

There seem to be no restrictions, just as there is no gate, no flowers or a place of repose.

Old-timers have referred to the cemetery as “Penny Heaven,” because those buried there had no money.

The county and city have always taken care of the poor, homeless abused or unwanted by providing burial when the need arises. When the site on Schley Alley was purchased, and many times since, both the saddest and the best of York County have come to the forefront.

As early as 1896 government wheels started to roll for developing a new cemetery for the poor. By 1897 a task of morbid necessity began in York city as the remains of hundreds of people were transported to the new plot in what was then known as Mayersville.

The bodies were removed from the previous potter’s field site opposite Penn Common. City school board members were planning a school for the site. There was great concern over the health risks since many of the dead had been smallpox victims. Caldrons of “disinfectants are being freely used and the air in the vivinity is laden with their fumes.”

The removal began in April 1897 and yielded many more bodies than anticipated. Through days of pouring rain and sloshing through the mud the bodies were loaded onto horsedrawn wagons and placed in rows at the new Potter’s Field.

“At the same time began the digging of trenches for their burial in the new ground obtained for that purpose on Ocean Avenue,” said The Dispatch.

“It is a significant evidence of the Christian humanity which characterizes this community that these remains of the pauper dead are, after a multitude of of years of burial, being removed with tender care and consideration.”

Not all who were buried in Potter’s Field were indignant. Would they find the remains of P. T. Barnum’s alleged cannibal? Or the remains of three Revolutionary War soldiers shot on site for mutiny?

“The most illustrious preemptor of a last resting place in the old potter’s field appears to have been one of Barnum’s cannibals,” said The Dispatch.

“Strange as it may seem, when this wild man was buried he was clothed with his native garb and had rings upon his fingers , ears and nose, also bracelets about his wrists, but to the disappointment of spectaors , when the grave was opened there was nothing to be found except the coffin lid.”

Revolutionary War Soldiers Executed

When Revolutionary War soldiers were encamped on Penn Commons several soldiers objected to the method of pay. The Continental currency was virtually worthless. The three members of the Pennsylvania Line were tried, executed and buried in Potter’s Field.

General “Mad” Anthony Wayne described the situation in a letter dated May 2, 1781 and reprinted in part in the 1897 York Dispatch.

“A few leading mutineers on the right of each regiment alled out to pay them in real money, not ideal money; they were no more to be trifled with,” said Wayne, who ordered an immediate court-martial on the spot.

“The determined countenances of the officers produced a conviction to the soldiers that the sentence of the court martial would be carried into execution,” wrote Wayne.

“Whether by design or accident the particular friends and messmates of the culprits were their executioners , and while tears rolled down their cheeks in showers, they silently and faithfully obeyed their orders without a moment’s hesitation. Thus, was this hideous monster crushed in its birth, however painful to myself and fficers a most painfu scene.”

The dad were stacked along the west and south sides of the field in rows measuring twenty-four feet in width. The rows formed a large “L” leaving the rest of the field for future use. There over 700 bodies placed in the field.

In June, 1903 a meeting of the city board of health revealed a funding problem after a great deal of discussion over the need for a fence at the field.

“The request of many of the residents of North York, praying for the board to erect a fence about the Potter’s Field adjoining the Prospect Hill Cemetery caused much discussion, on account of a former appropriation not being accounted for,” said The York Dispatch.

Several North York residents drew the ire of the city health board when it was revealed that Potter’s Field was being farmed for potatoes. Several residents had presented a petition to the board advising them of the fact. The graveyard ‘tater farmers would be evicted and no trespassing signs posted.

One of the saddest of the litte-known tales of woe of Penny Heaven took place in 1930 when a woman sought to exhume the remains of her infant. As a younger woman she had borne and then buried her newborn babe in Potter’s Field. She had made regular visits to the grave, with was marked with a wooden cross that eventually rotted away. Years later, being of better means, she wanted the remains of her child reinterred in the adjoining Prospect Hill Cemetery.

When the grave she had mourned over for years was open it was an adult casket, as were several others that were opened. The mother gave up her search for the remains of her baby as hopeless. The ability to locate the child caused V. K. Dayhoff, the city park commissioner, to attepmt to lay out and chart Potter’s Field.

“Up until the present time the city has kept no record of the location of bodies buried in Potter’s Field. With the rotting of the small markers at time of burial, the bodies resting under the sod became lost as to the identities of the bodies they held,” said The York Dispatch. (April 11, 1930)

The result was a chart that plotted the cemetery into just over 500 plots., with markings for pathways and measurements. The remains from the Potter’s Field site on College Ave. formed a large letter L. A list on the side of the site plan contains nearly 200 names but only a few dates.

Lot #463 contains the remains of a male infant found at the sewage treatment plant. An unknown male, with a date of Sept., 1933 occupies lot 286. A number of the lots are marked “double occupancy” and some do not correspond to the list Next to many of the names is a small letter c or w.

Another of the saddest of the tales of woe filling Potter’s Field took place in the late 1930′s. It became public when two workers at the Loucks Mill Rd. paper mill made a gruesome discovery where what is now called Mill Creek enters the Codorus. Wrapped in burlap oilcloth and newspaper were the remains of two babes.

“At an idyllic spot at Funk’s Run, near a small dam about one mile north of York, along Loucks Mill Rd., prematurely born twin children, a male and a female, were found yesterday,” said a 1939 Gazette and Daily.

It turned out that a doctor and nurse had been attendants at a premature birth in which one infant was dead at birth and the other alive. The remains had been given to a man the doctor knew for “proper burial” at the Black Bridge, about a mile further north.

The case was announced as closed a few weeks later. A Gazette and Daily story said “A physician and visiting nurse were in attendance at the time of the premature births and there is no evidence whatsover of any criminal abortion. Burial was not made according to instruction.”

The District Attorney was able to determine the names of all but charges were never filed. A few days after their discovery the twins were interred in Potter’s Field, their location and identity unknown.

(Insert-the above story makes you wonder. Were there more burials at Black Bridge?)

In 1966 a burial took place that would cause concern and show that the neighbors of Potter’s Fieldsometimes acted as its keepers. William Shelton died in late October and was buried in plot 472 at a cost of $350.PFC Shelto, a WWII veteran, had suffered from lung congestion and hardening of the arteries.

For years neighborhood resident Jerry Martin tended SShelton’s grave, always feeliong that it wasn’t right for a veteran to be buried in Potter’s Field. In 1985 Martin was successful in his efforts to have PFC Shelton laid to rest in Indiantown Gap Military Cemetery.

A modern day tale of woe, abuse and poor parenting ended in 1989 with the burial of four-year-old Clashay Johnson. He died of heart and lung failure in a Baltimore hospital burn unit. As punishment for wetting himself his mother had placed him in a tub of scalding water. Bridgette Hollingsworth was sentenced to four to eight years upon conviction of third degree manslaughter. Clashay’s name is spelled wrong on the plot map. A very small marker, near a recently placed American flag, reads “Clashay Johnson October 20, 1985, January 7, 1989.”

It was the story of Clashay that inspired a group of YBI students to pledge, in 1995, to maintain the field in front of the school. They hoped to place a bench and erect a new fence and add a bench. (It wasn’t until late 2007 that a new fence was erected, minus a gate.) Silbaugh Memorials monument company donated a small marker at the entrance to York City Cemetery that reads “In memory of Clashay Johnson and all those that rest in these hallowed grounds.”

Today, 2009, there is a new generation of neighbors of York City Cemetery. They seem not to know or care that they are allowibng their children to sled on the grounds, that their dogs are defacating on the dead.

Whatever name used to refer to the cemetery; Potters Field, cemetery of the unknowns, or York City Cemetery, I doubt if many have said, just “bury me in Penny Heaven.”

Researched and written by Dave Gulden

The old York history buff hotline tells me that one of the early buildings of the old Diehl’s Mill complex may be torn down. It is located on N. Sherman St. at Interstate 83, across from the beer warehouse. Sherman St was once known as Diehl’s Mill Road., and even had a covered bridge. Of even more interest is the Spring Valley Peacock Farm monument. It sits near the base of the large billboard near both roads. Anyone know anything about the monument or the peacock farm and the reference to Roosevelt??

Harry Saltzgiver

Lewis Strubinger

Horace Strine

1904

At a little after 2 in the afternoon of April 6., 1904, a fire broke out at the York Carriage Co., 238-242 N. George St.

“As soon as the firemen arrived at the plant,” said the Dispatch, “they found the annex on North Street ablaze and that they were facing one of the biggest fires in recent years in York.”

Every fire company in York responded. Believed to have started on the first floor the fire was soon out of control, roaring up to the sixth floor and through the roof of the annex.

“At four o’clock the entire plant of the carriage works was in flames and the firemen and thousands of spectators realized the plant was doomed to destruction,” said The Dispatch.

The firemen had about a dozen streams of water on the blaze, and “they fought heroically and stubbornly and some of the men even took risks that imperiled their lives.”

More than 100 employees had to flee the upper floors, some even jumped from windows.

“The fire was the fiercest one ever witnessed in York,” said The Dispatch. The Variety Ironworks, next to the annex, was badly damaged when the walls of the annex toppled.

By dinnertime, the annex was destroyed.

Between 9 and 10 p.m., members of Vigilant Fire Co. on West Market Street were working near the south wall of the carriage works despite warnings the wall might fall.

And it did, burying five members of the Vigilant Fire Co. in the debris.

Two escaped. Harry Saltzgiver, 31 S. Newberry St., Lewis Strubinger, 170 W. Princess St., and Horace Strine, 43 S. Newberry St., died.

Saltzgiver and Strubinger were removed from the rubble that night. Strine’s body could not be recovered until the next ay for fear of collapsing ruins.

The three fallen firefighters were accorded funeral rites worthy of heroes. All services were timed so mourners could attend each one.

Rites were held at each man’s home.

“The funeral of Horace Strine was particularly sad because the casket in which his body lay could not be opened,” for viewing, said The Dispatch. Strine, a 23-year-old worker at the Norway Steel Plant, was survived by a wife and two children.

Saltzgiver, 35, was the next to be buried, “the crowd which had gathered at the grave was larger than this morning, and the services again impressive,” said The Dispatch. The 35-year-old also left a widow and children.

Strubinge, 32, was in a coffin surrounded by a large fireman’s shield made of roses. He, too, left a wife and five children, the youngest of which was only 2 weeks old. He had worked for the Martin Carriage Works.

“At the close of the services,” wrote The Dispatch, “the procession re-formed and returned to the city, and in this way one of the saddest events in the history of the York City Fire Departments was brought to a close.”

Elias Spangler

1909

A fire alarm was sounded at the Goodwill Fire Co. in the 800 block of East Market Street on Dec. 1, 1909.

As a result a door would be smashed, a fire wagon damaged, a horse injured, and a volunteer would die.

Elias Spangler, a contractor and mechanic by trade, started for the wagon, say news accounts, and asked several others whether he should take the reins as the regular driver was away at supper.

After some hesitation, and despite being advised not to do so, Spangler jumped on the wagon and took the lines in hand.

Starting west on Market Street, “he was apparently losing control of the horses when Mr. Gipe (the driver) appeared and wanted to relieve Mr. Spangler. Feeling confident of managing the horses, Mr. Spangler held on the reins.”

But soon Spangler was thrown off, and dashed into a tree, suffering deep facial gashes, broken ribs, and a fractured skull. He died the next day, survived by a widow and three sons.

The runaway fire wagon was stopped after trolleys blocked the way at Broad Street.

“East York citizens are much exercised over the fact that the entire section in case of fire has only the Goodwill chemical engine to depend on. Some action will be taken today to give the East end the protection needed,” it was reported.

As it turned out the fire call was not necessary. The small brush fire was put out with a bucket of water.

William Bush

1919

At about midnight on June 9, 1915, 41-year-old pipefitter William Bush, stationed at the Rescue Fire Co. on South George Street, woke up to a fire alarm from West Jackson Street.

As Bush readied the steamer, he started to hook up two horses and another man prepared the chemical wagon.

For unknown reasons, when the chemical wagon pulled away, Kirk, a steamer horse, bolted.

“Bush had hooked the horses and was about to mount his seat,” said The Dispatch. “The animals bolted from the engine house before Bush reached his seat and was dashed to death as he clung to the reins trying to stop them.”

Bush held on until reaching St. Mary’s rectory, when he fell to the street.

The runaway horses kept going north on George Street, when Earl Greene, 142 W. Princess St., heroically “boarded the steamer from the rear, made a perilous climb over the swaying apparatus to the seat, and brought the runaways under control.”

Bush, 324 S. George St., was dead of skull and rib fractures by the time he was placed in beer magnate Theodore Helb’s car and taken to the hospital.

He was survived by a young son, who went to live with an aunt in Baltimore.

The fire destroyed an Overland car and garage, causing $600 damage.

Harold Strebig

1928

The next fatal fire, on Jan. 9, 1928, took one life and caused a public outcry for a city building code.

The fire at Susquehanna Garage, 825 Cleveland Ave., drew four fire companies.

“When the firemen arrived on the scene the flames had burst through the roof,” and were threatening nearby buildings, said The Dispatch. Several residents of apartments above the cinderblock garage had to be rescued.

Six men from Rex Fire Co. “began to work to protect the line of frame garages behind the burning building.”

Unknown to them, a gas pipeline had broken, and the vapors filled the upper rooms. Upon contact, the resulting explosion hurled bricks and composition board over the firemen.

Twenty-year-old Harold Strebig, who was otherwise a Boy Scout leader in Wrightsville, “received the force of the downfall of bricks and composition board.”

Strebig never regained consciousness and died at York Hospital several hours later from assorted injuries.

His two brethren suffered compound fractures, broken ribs, and severe head injuries.

“Expressions that the construction of the building and its condition now, should show to the city that a building code is very badly needed,” said The Dispatch. The Fire Chief had been seeking a code for two years.

The day after the fire, “A meeting of the board of directors of the Manufacturer’s Association of York was held,” at The Lafayette Club said The Dispatch, “for the purpose of the changes planned for the fire department.”

The directors of the Chamber of Commerce also met to discuss their similar concerns, and both groups planned to approach city council, which wanted to replace the chief and his assistant.

The two groups wanted “to consider the wisdom of council’s proposed action and what might be done about it,” said The Dispatch.

There also had been some concern about the response of Eagle Fire Co. and the condition of equipment.

When Eagle hooked up their hose, it had immediately burst, causing a delay in the firefighting. The Eagle company had reported several times that they neededa drying tower, and that they lacked enough hose.

“It is known that because of the parsimony practiced by the city government;” said The Dispatch, “many of the fire companies are compelled to work with fire hose little better than sausage casing.”

Strebig’s funeral was attended by more than 3,000 mourners.

Walter Hugentugler

1934

On May 9, 1934, a false alarm and a practice no longer allowed caused the death of 40-year-old Walter Hugentugler, of Rex Hook and Ladder Co.

After a report of a chimney fire, as the Rex truck was pulling out, Hugentugler “tried to jump upon the Rex truck after it was partly out of the fire house.”

“He slipped and fell,” said The Dispatch, “and the rear wheel on the left hand side of the apparatus passed over his right leg between the knee and ankle.”

Hugentugler, 525 S. Court Ave., was taken to York Hospital and eventually died from his injuries. He was survived by his mother and various siblings.

Today firefighters are not allowed to ride on the side or rear of fire trucks.

One of the firefighters who assisted Hugentugler after his fall was Eugene Greiman, who would be the next York firefighter to meet his fate.

Eugene Greiman

1940

On Oct. 29, 1940, Eugene Greiman, a driver of Laurel Fire Co., responded to a fire at the York Paper Manufacturing Co., 242 W. Princess St.

Greiman “drove his apparatus onto the premises of York Caramel Co. on the north side to the eastern approach of the College Avenue bridge,” said The Dispatch.

While stretching the hose line, fellow firefighters noticed Greiman was fumbling andhaving difficulties, and “he collapsed and fell to the ground.”

A police car tried to drive him to the hospital, but he died. Greiman, 69, had suffered a heart attack.

Greiman, 324 S. George St., left behind a widow and three sons.

The fire did minor damage to the roof of the building. The York Paper Co. described it as “trifling.”

The cause of the fire was unknown, but a company spokesman thought “that carelessness on the part of canned-heaters probably started it.” The “canned-heaters” hung out under many bridges along the creek.

Henry Rudy

1943

Eagle Fire Co. answered an alarm on Feb. 25, 1943, for a grass fire at Vander and Boundary avenues.

Henry Rudy of 543 S. Duke St. ran and tried to jump on the back of the truck.

“When Rudy jumped for the truck he succeeded in getting one hand and one foot on the apparatus and as the driver made a left hand turn onto Jackson Street,” said The Dispatch, “Rudy lost his balance, fell on the street, slid about 20 feet and finally struck his head against the curb near Jessup Place on Jackson Street.”

Rudy, 67, had been warned by company trustees “to stay off the apparatus because of his feeble condition,” said coroner H.L. Zech.

A retiree from the York Wall Paper Co. and the federal government, he left behind a son and a daughter.

J. William Wills

1957

Tragedy would once again strike a member of Vigilant Fire Co. on March 29, 1957, and at least six other firefighters were injured, when a huge fire raged through the first block of South George Street downtown.

J. William Wills, “one of six persons hospitalized during the blaze that felled a score of others succumbed unexpectedly at York Hospital,” said The Dispatch.

The fire was on the west side of the street and involved most of the area from Mason Avenue to King Street. Businesses destroyed from 42 to 52 S. George St. included International Jewelers, a beauty parlor, dental lab, and the Famous Restaurant. More than 50 people had to be evacuated from the Brooks Hotel. The fire caused more than $500,000 damage.

The 46-year-old Wills, of 570 Salem Ave., a longtime volunteer and the father of six, “had a cardiac condition,” said an official, and “smoke inhalation undoubtedly contributed to his death.”

Wills was the son of Harry Wills, York’s first full-time paid fire chief. He left behind six children.

Donald R. Harrison

1971

The most recent fallen firefighter, Donald R. Harrison died in a freak accident Feb. 25, 1971. A 60-foot tree fell across a ladder truck.

A city aerial truck was in the 600 block of South Duke Street, near what is now the Crispus Attucks Center, on routine patrol.

“Witnesses said the tree broke off at the roots and fell over the street, striking the apparatus,” said The Dispatch.

Harrison, 35, of Thomasville, was a passenger in the canvas-covered cab of the truck. He had joined the fire department the previous June.

Area residents said they had complained about the tree nearly a dozen times in two years to city officials, something the city denied. But a citywide examination of trees was ordered by Mayor Eli Eichelberger. The ladder truck, which sustained $11,000 in damage, was to be fitted with an armored cab.

Harrison’s smashed aluminum hat now sits on a pedestal in the Fire Museum.

He was the first paid fireman to lose his life in the line of duty. He left behind a widow and two young sons.

Today’s fire equipment laws prohibit canvas and open-truck cabs.

[ Originally published as "A look back at the fallen" October 5, 1997 in the York Sunday News ]

History of the monument

The monument to York’s 11 fallen firefighting heroes is in the yard of the Fire Museum of York County. With a lantern held high, as if looking for an exit, the statue faces the building, its back to the main street.

The statue was moved to this site in 1981 from its original site across from William Penn High School.

In 1900, “The Rescue (fire company) dedicated an impressive statue in Penn Common to perpetuate its memory and that of firemen,” says the history of York City Fire Department.

“Situated on a large granite pedestal was a life-size bronze figure of a Rescue fireman in full uniform, carrying an infant in his arms.” In 1928 it was turned over to the city in honor of all city firefighters.

When moved in 1981, “It was dismantled stone by stone. A mason named Jerry Crane donated his time,” said museum president George Kroll.

There almost was a 12th name on the fireman’s monument, but it turned out to be a “false alarm.”

In February of 1904, Laurel and Vigilant Fire companies sent crews to Baltimore, by train, to help battle a huge fire that consumed more than 140 acres of downtown Baltimore.

The Gazette called it “the most sever firefighting test the firemen ever experienced.”

One York man, Jacob Ilgenfritz, was first reported dead in the fire, but he in fact lived.

The Fire Museum has several remnants of what is referred to as The Great Baltimore Fire: a melted typewriter and a clock.

But why is the statue of the fireman facing the building, and not the street?

“In the fire service, it’s a long standing tradition to rise ofr a moment of silence,” during meetings and such, said Kroll, “and face the direction of the setting sun in honor of our fallen comrades.”

[ Originally printed Oct. 5, 1997 in the York Sunday News ]