Annie Sullivan, On Genesee Hill

[fiona]

Dave, yes it was no 1. For a full description please refer to the Olbiston/Genesee Flats History and your post of April 6th 09: "Utica Well Protected..." from an artical appearing on April 28th, 1901, in the Utica Sunday Journal.

[dgriffin]

Yup, you're right. Jon had found it.

[jon hynes]

Dec 17, 2009 18:23:06 GMT -5 @dgriffin said:

Should my "No. x" be No.1? The company the chemical engine came from, the first on the scene? No. 1 is mentioned as being on the scene in the Inquest writeup. They had the best record, but weren't they down on Broadway, whereas there was a closer department on Park between Eagle and Oneida Square?

Re: Olbiston/Genesee Flats History
« Reply #465 on Apr 18, 2009, 5:54pm »

Thanks, Jon. That is a riveting account. I'm unsure if the alarm the watchman, Mr. Lewis, talks about is the one outside on Clinton Place or a special one inside the Flats, as was indicated in another article. It was claimed in another article that although the watchman said he hadn't been trained to use it, it was quite simple to break the glass and turn the crank. Elsewhere, we also read that a general alarm was turned in at the street box (no. 31) on Clinton Place by a fireman from the first responders, the chemical engine company (No. 1 from near Oneida Square, evidently.) And Latcher called in by telephone, supposedly as soon as he heard from the watchman/elevator man there was a fire. . . . . .

[dgriffin]

Jon, from subsequent reading I came to think ... hopefully accurately ... that the only alarm was outside on the corner of Clinton Pl and Genesee St. I no longer am under the impression there was a separate, special alarm inside the Flats.

It's true that one of the reports said a fireman turned in the second alarm, but at least two other reports I've since read, including the coverage of the inquest, say that William Foley was directed by Fireman (and driver) Breitenberg to go to the corner and turn in the alarm.

I should change the "give it a pull" to "give it a crank."

Thanks for the reference. I did eventually index all or most of your "translations." I should have also done the same for yours and my comments, which often summarizes what we found. Except that in my case, my opinions were often premature, before reading all the news accounts.

[jon hynes]

Dec 17, 2009 22:16:25 GMT -5 @dgriffin said:

Jon, from subsequent reading I came to think ... hopefully accurately ... that the only alarm was outside on the corner of Clinton Pl and Genesee St. I no longer am under the impression there was a separate, special alarm inside the Flats.

It's true that one of the reports said a fireman turned in the second alarm, but at least two other reports I've since read, including the coverage of the inquest, say that William Foley was directed by Fireman (and driver) Breitenberg to go to the corner and turn in the alarm.

I should change the "give it a pull" to "give it a crank."

Thanks for the reference. I did eventually index all or most of your "translations." I should have also done the same for yours and my comments, which often summarizes what we found. Except that in my case, my opinions were often premature, before reading all the news accounts.

The alarm on the corner was the last alarm sent. A general alarm. No. 1 was already long on the scene with their chemical hoses fighting the flames before that alarm was sent in.

[dgriffin]

That's right. Latcher telephoned in the alarm to No. 1. If I remember correctly, he asked Lewis to call in by telephone, but Lewis later said he went off to fight the fire in the basement and didn't call. When Latcher found Lewis had not called, Latcher himself telephoned and the Chemical Engine from No.1 showed up pretty quick. When No. 1 convinced themselves the sodium carbonate powered small tank of water wasn't going to be enough, a Lieutenant asked Driver Breitenberg to run up the street and crank the alarm at the box. Breitenberg delegated this task to the newsboy, William Foley.

Latcher later maintained that not enough water was available for the fire. He may have thought when he telephoned that all manner of tankers and pumpers would show up, but it was routing for the Fire Department to send a small chemical engine first, and their experience with a couple of previous small fires at the Flats would have supported their decision.

I don't know if there was any communications channels available between the fire houses or what was their over all coordination. Chief Dimbleby testified at the Inquest that he first became aware of the fire when he heard the whistle at his home. I think I remember reading that he then telephoned from home, and then immediately left for the fire. I guess no one called him directly.

This is from memory, so I may be off on a few things.

[dgriffin]

Here it is, from "Had the Box Been Pulled"
(meaning, had the Clinton Place Alarm been cranked at the first notion of a fire.)


Lewis (the night watchman/janitor) testified:

"I heard people up and talking on the first floor; I rapped at Latcher's door and said "Come down quick." I didn't take time to tell him what the matter was; he had told me if anything was the matter to call him; Latcher's apartment was on the sixth floor, north end; then I returned to the halls and began ringing the bells; Mr. Latcher had told me if there was a fire to wake up the occupants by ringing the bells and then call him, and then telephone for the chemical apparatus; I had not sent for the chemical at this time for I wanted the people to get up; Mr. Latcher came there almost as quick as I and said; "Have you sent in the alarm?" I said no; he said he would and that I should keep ringing the bells, which I did; Mr. Latcher called central office, got an immediate answer and said "Send the chemical and No. 1" When I finished ringing the announcements, I took the hose and with Mr. Williams went outside and put on the stream in the cellar; from the time I first discovered the fire up to this time was from eight to ten minutes; the chemical came right away; I was out there only a couple of minutes when the chemical came; The man jumped off at the door and called for the engine to stop, he had the hose in his hand; the hose I had did not reach the window, but the waxxxxx went in all right; Mr. Latcher xxxxxxxxxxxxx and to go and waken the people; he said "Go in the halls and tell them to go out the back way."

[dgriffin]

Here it is, all together, all over again.


Inquest On The Fire

Utica Morning Herald - Wednesday, March 11, 1896

Testimony of William Foley:

"I am a student and work in the Herald office and carry a route; had finished my work and was coming down Clinton Place; was listening for the 5:05 train. Heard women screaming and went down to the driveway; saw a great deal of smoke; Britenburg a driver of No. 1's asked me to see if the glass in the alarm box was broken. It was not and I sent in the alarm. At the time that I saw the fire first, no smoke was coming out of the front. From the time I saw the smoke and heard the screaming until I sent in the alarm was about 5 minutes.


Testimony of Hibbard K. Van Size:

"Mrs. Hughes fell with her back toward the ladder, striking it at the third balcony, and then slid down the ladder to the ground. "



Other reporting from:






If I may take a little license:



Billy Foley's Morning

It’s just so peaceful in the morning. No one is out and about, and all I ever hear are the trains and factories running all night over on the west side, out Whitesboro Street. And in the winter, the swish of tire rims when a hack is pulled past by a weary horse. And, you know, me and Da need the money, so before school I run down to the Herald and get me a bag of papers and sign the slip to pay tomorrow and take the whole shebang up Genesee Street, selling the news to whoever will give me a couple of pennies for the paper. I bring home the coins I earn to Da and he counts them out and gives me the money that’ll go to the Herald. He always has me put it in the old teapot on the window sill for tomorrow.

It’s been a cold winter and if Da didn’t kick me out of bed in the morning, I wouldn’t be out there slogging through the slush and snow, I can tell you. And, Jesus, I got a welt on the back of my shoulders from Brother Barnabas at the ‘cademy, and he keeps hitting me there every time I fall asleep reading the catty-kism.

I most often sell all the papers by the time I get to Court Street, so I don’t always get as far up as Genesee Hill. But that morning I walked all the way to the fountain at Oneida Square, and by that time I could smell the smoke. Then all hell broke loose as the team of horses and men from the No. 1 fire company came pounding by me and headed south down Genesee. Holy Cripes, a real fire engine! I threw down the rest of the papers and I ran like the dickens to catch up. By the time I got to the Flats, and saw the people trying to get off the front of the place, I wished I'd gone home instead. Nobody should ever have to see people dying like that. I still have dreams about it. Yeah, I know, not as many died as I thought were going to. But enough did …. and that poor lady I saw fall. I heard her head crack open. Sometimes when I’m dozing off in school, I’ll hear that crack and my stomach will get queasy if it’s just before lunch.

I’m a good reader, and I’ve read everything in the papers about the fire, at least in the Herald, because that’s the paper I sell. By what’s in print, you’d think everyone got called up by the management and politely told about the fire and pretty please just get dressed and meet across the street for tea. But that’s not what I saw.

When I first came up on the building, all I saw were firemen. They were scurrying around and they didn’t look like anybody had told them the fire was right in front of them and they should be doing something about it. I didn’t see any flames, at first. But I heard this awful sound, people screaming and crying and yelling for help. I lost my bearings for a minute, and wondered where the hell they were. It was dark and there was smoke everywhere. For just a second, I wondered if all the voices were in the trees. Then a trunk of clothes split open about ten feet from where I was standing. Just dropped down right out of the sky! I looked up and saw coats and shoes and a lady’s dress floating down at me. And then, over at the far end, I saw a man drop to the ground clinging to what looked like a string of sheets or clothing. Then I had to laugh, thinking it was funny. I wanted to shout at them to go back inside. There weren’t any flames. I thought this would be just a smoker … like maybe someone’s couch was burning and they’d have it out in the snow in just a bit.

It was getting lighter now, and people were coming down like they’d been on a balloon ride. Some were wailing and shouting and trying to find each other. One lady kept grabbing me and asking if I’d seen her brother. She must’ve asked me ten times. It shook me. I realized I was afraid again. There were still folks hanging from the balconies.

Two firemen ran up to me and started yelling about fire engines. At first, I thought they wanted to tell me something, but they happened to stop where I was standing. They were arguing about whether to call in more engines. One fellow said there was no need, and that he was going to the basement to make sure the fire was out. When he ran off, the other man asked me if I knew how to use the alarm box up the street on the corner. I said I guess you just pull it, and he told me how to break the glass and turn the crank. I must have looked like I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it, because the man put his hand on my shoulder and said I’d be saving lives, son.

When I got to the box, I was so worked up I couldn’t break the glass with my mitten still on my hand. I found a stone and broke the little window. My finger still hurts a little from the cut I gave myself.

I turned back toward the building and if I live to be 90 years old I will never forget what happened next. I was running and watching firemen and people around the bottom of the building, neighbors coming out on their porches in their nightdress, folks still clinging to the balcony railings … and I was beginning to hope no one would get hurt playing acrobat on the balconies, because this might not be a real bad fire …. when the whole place just went wooooosh! It broke out in flames. Brother Barnabas says the word is erupted. Well, that’s what it did … it erupted in flames. One huge sheet of flame shot up from the roof of the building and at the same time flames blew out the windows. Holy Mother Molly, I’ve never heard or seen anything like it!

All the voices hushed for a moment, and then a loud moan went up from the crowd, probably firemen included. I stopped running and almost sat down in the snow. But after a few seconds, I kept going back toward the Flats. Oh, why didn’t I go home?

That poor lady. She was coming down a string of sheets and towels like some others had done, and she was crying all the way. She wore a hat kinda like the one I used to see on my old mother … God rest her soul as she walks with all the saints in Paradise … and she was old. The young man made her get on the “rope” and slide down, I think. He probably thought he was just trying to save her life. I yelled up at her to hold on with both hands, even though one of her arms was hanging kinda useless. I ran up to where she would land and I held out my arms. I’m a strong kid. I shouted up to her, “Just a little farther!” She was half way down, but then she just hung there. That takes a lot of strength, with just one hand. I knew she couldn’t last long.
“C’mon! Slide! I’ll catch ya!” I shouted.
She had been looking up at the young man, but now looked down at me. She looked sick and tired. Brother Barnabas says the word is miserable. Well, miserable is how she looked. Oh, how I wish I had not said what I did next.
“Let go and slide,” I yelled. But she just let go altogether and fell. Right next to me.
On her head. She hit a railing first, bounced off and then banged down right next to me. She came so fast! Honest! I tried, I had my hands up. She was past my arms and on the ground before I could catch her. Next day the Herald said she landed on her shoulder and broke it, not her head. I’ve never before heard either break. But I have to tell ya. If you ever hear a head break, you’ll know it. It sounds like nothing else in the whole world.

I don’t feel so good.




Relief carvings on the facade of the Obliston Apartment House, Utica, NY, purported to be an image of
Mrs. Sarah Hughes.

[fiona]

The image posted above is a carving on the front facade of the Olbiston Apartments, 1431 Genesee Street, Utica NY. The Olbiston was erected in 1898 upon the footprint of the doomed Genesee Flats Apartment House. There are 12 carvings and I do not believe they are terra cotta, but carved on keystones directly from Red Medina sandstone. The origins of the images have been a matter of speculation for many years. I myself lived in the Olbiston for over 20 years and often wondered about them. They have an august presence and are more than simple gargoyles or late 19th century modes of urban decoration. As I began to research the terrible fire at the Flats, it occured to me that they possibly were somehow linked with that disaster. I compared both photos of the Flats and of the Olbiston and studied the documents such as old newspaper articals. I then compared the spots where the victims lived with the location of the carvings, and the ares where they were injured or found deceased. The image of this woman is directly above the spot where Mrs. Susannah Hughes, who lost her hold on a rope of bed sheets while descending from the balcony, would have landed (upon the pavement.) It is true that we shall never know for sure for any one who could tell us is long dead, the meanings of the images are lost in time, but the essence of the soul remains in the faces, so for me, this is Mrs. Susannah Hughes.

Since 1896 she has seen the changes on Genesee Street and bears mute witness to the passing throng. Many have stared at her and her compatriats in interest, mabye even wonder, and then passed on. What could be said about her? We can deduce much by studying the image: She was 60 years old at the time of her death: This is clearly an older woman. She was of slight build: the drawing in the newspaper which shows her falling from the balcony, is of a slender, older woman. Her hair is of the period and denotes someone from an even older time, the face is lined, the mouth small. The eyes with their crows feet stare straight ahead as if gazing upon Heaven or a destiny not fully comprehended, yet accepted in the end. This is no mere death mask, but a still, quiet image from which we should and can learn much. Rest In Peace, Mrs Hughes. You have not been forgotten.

[dgriffin]

Very nice, Fiona. The blackened parts of the stone face are from years of weathering, I suppose, but might very well represent the smokey soot upon the actual brow of this woman who, with only one useful arm, accepted the danger and set off down the rope. One could say she had no choice, but others have sat down and refused to move when told to exit on a dangerous path to escape certain death. How must her son in law have felt, sending her down the rope. And Mrs. H.K. Van Size, a woman who caught her, but couldn't hold on (despite my fictional account of Billy Foley.)

Here is the news account.

"Mrs. Hughes was living with her daughter, Mrs. Arthur L. Aldred, in the second apartment from the south and on the fifth floor. When the Aldreds were around they were given to understand that the fire was in the rear, in the cafe, and the escape in that direction was impossible. They aroused Mr. and Mrs. S. N. Ruggles, who occupied the adjoining flat to the south, and daughter, they went out on the balcony, hoping to make their way from balcony to balcony to the north end and then go down the staircase in the north flat where the fire had not yet reached. Each parlor has a door opening on two balconies one to the right the other to the left. In this manner, by passing from one balcony to another through the parlors, they hoped to escape. But they soon found that the fire was in the front as well as the rear and that in moving towards the center of the building they were approaching the flames. Accordingly they retraced their steps to the south balcony of the fifth floor. On the balcony beneath them were Mrs. George W. Chadwick, Mr. Van Size had swung himself over the fourth floor balcony and dropped to the third floor balcony. The ladders of the truck company reached to this point and a small rope was passed to Mr. Van Size by a fireman. Mr. Van Size threw the rope up to his wife and she passed it to Mr. Aldred in the fifth balcony, where she was caught by Mr. Van Size and drawn in on the balcony. Next came Mrs. Ruggles, and she too was caught by Mr. Van Size and a fireman, Then a child, tied in a bundle, was lowered down the rope. From there they were passed down the ladder by firemen. Then came Mrs. Hughes. The manner of her death is thus related by Mrs. Van Size: "Mrs. Hughes came from the fifth to the fourth balcony. As she swung on to our balcony I said to her, 'hold on.' 'Oh I can't!' she said faintly. She struck astride the balcony rail. Her head dropped on her shoulder and she seemed to faint. I held her until her weight was pulling me over. Then I let her go. She slid on the rope to the ladder and struck the ladder in the middle of her back. She rolled or slid down the ladder to the ground. When she struck the fourth balcony I think that she was hurt. Her strength seemed to be exhausted."

[dgriffin]

From:

NUMEROUS THRILLING ESCAPES
Utica Observer, March 3, 1896


Susanna Hughes was the widow of Hugh Hughes who died some seventeen years ago. He was very prominent in Welch musical circles and was conspicuous at Eisteddfod and other festivals of song. Mrs. Hughes was born in Montgomeryshire Wales May 28, 1826 yet a girl she moved to Liverpool Eng. where she was brought up and received a splendid education. It was in Liverpool that Mrs. Hughes married in 1864 and together with her husband she came to this country, located at 33 Spring street in this city. Mrs. Hughes remained there until year after her husband's death. When she broke up housekeeping and the rest of her days were passed with her children, and a friend at Westmoreland. For the past twelve months she made her home with her daughter Mrs. A. L. Aldred in the Genesee flats. Mrs. Hughes was a member of St. Georges church and had a wide circle of loving friends. Her children are Mrs. H. Seymour Van Valkenberg and Mrs. A. L. Aldred, in this city, and David B. Hughes of New York.

[dgriffin]

The Alred's, including Mrs. Hughes, with Mr. and Mrs. S.N. Ruggles searched for a way to escape the fire:

More From:

NUMEROUS THRILLING ESCAPES
Utica Observer, March 3, 1896

Their only hope lay in escaping by means of the balconies. With the Aldreds and others they tried to work their way from balcony to balcony, but the flames drove them back to their own balcony. Mrs. Ruggles and the boy escaped by sliding down the same rope by which Mrs. Hughes lost her life. Finally all had left the balcony save Mr. Ruggles. Already the flames were bursting from windows and enticing him. He was momentarily dazed and gazed about as though utterly helpless, for he feared to trust himself to the slender rope, by which owners escaped. But at last desperation drove him to act. The flames were scorching his face when he untied the rope, fastened it about his waist, threw the other end to the firemen on the third balcony, climbed over the railing and then with the iron railing as a sort of pulley, trusted his 200 pound weight to render mercies of the slender rope. He struck the fourth balcony as he was lowered and was thus bruised. From the fourth balcony he was assisted to the ground.

[fiona]

bio for John Brandegee Wood

John Brandegee Wood, husband of Sarah Miller and father of Mary Brandegee Wood, was born in Morristown New Jersey on June 25, 1844. His father, Theodore Talbot Wood was, among other things, a successful banker and owner of iron ore mines.
His mother, Mary Jane Brandegee bore nine children, of whom John was the oldest. The family home was the Wood farmhouse, a 20 room home still standing at 83 South Street, Morristown NJ.(1.)

John attended Yale Law School, graduating in 1868. While a student there he was a member of the prestigious Alpha Delta Phi Fraternity and may have also been a member of the Skull and Bones Society, as many Delta Phi brothers were. After graduation he went on to obtain a law degree at Columbia University in New York City, where he taught law, philosophy and rhetoric. He then entered the practice of law in Morristown and lived there until around 1892-3. For some reason his health began to fail and it is interesting to note that the Asiatic Flu or Le Grippe was then raging in America, reaching it's peak from around 1889 to approximatly 1890 and that Morristown, New Jersey was not spared. Around 1892 he gave up the practice of law and relocated with his wife and daughter to Riverside, California where he became succesfully engaged in citrus farming. At this time the industry was new to Southern California and many Easteners banded together or formed corporations to start and operate citrus farms. (2.)

In 1895 he and his family returned to Utica, NY possibly for the purpose of having his daughter, Mary B. attend finishing school, but to also visit his wife's mother, Mary Foreman Miller, wife of Rutger B. Miller, who was in her late eighties at this time. The family spent the summer of 1895 in Whitestown at the family homestead and then, in the autumn, engaged rooms at the new Genesee Flats Apartment House, on Genesee Street in Utica NY. On the morning of March 3, 1896 the Flats burned to the ground, his wife and daughter being lost in the fire. Their bodies were never found. After the fire he returned to Riverside, where he devoted the rest of his life to "psychical and ghost research, mathmatics, philosophy,and the culture of oranges." (3) His address in 1916 was 422 South Lake Street, Los Angeles California. The date and time of his death are unknown, as is the place of his burial.

(story to be continued)

see footnotes below for links to websites and U Tube.

[fiona]

1. www.morristown nj.org/history for a virtual tour of Morristown and a view of the Wood Farmhouse.
2. www.riverside ca.gov/museaum for a video tour of the Heritage House, a turn of the century home owned by wealthy orange grower Catherine Bettner
3. www.archive.org (Yale University biographical record of class of 1865, record 119, John Brandegee Wood.

[fiona]

The Wonderful Cane


John, tall, slender and articulate, with a handlebar mustache and a head full of dark grey hair, wore a meticulous brown checked suit, a gold pocket watch hanging from a green paisley vest softly ticked away the hours until they would arrive in Utica. A cane of dark malacca wood lay on the seat beside him, a reminder of an old injury- he had fallen from a horse while out riding with Sarah many years ago- and the injury would always pain him. The cane was his favorite, a gift from a fellow Bones man when he had graduated from Yale in 1867. Delicate and sartorial, the tip was sterling silver, the ivory handle banded with gold and carved into a life like rendition of the Greek God Pan. Sarah, of course, had taken an intense dislike to the cane. "Why" she had asked when they were newly married, "My Dear John, do you have to carry a cane with a Satyrs head upon it?" And he had answered in the best way he knew how: That he was the PaPa, was he not? The Pater Familias of the home and was it not her job to sit in front of the fire and knit him a delicate little cap or neck muffler for a cold night? Sarah was not amused, but she acquiesced, and John was allowed to carry the cane at any time except Sundays. Each had won a small victory; on church days the cane sat in the Chinese jardiniere with the others and life went on.