Chemung County Historical Society

by Rachel Dworkin, archivist

One day in November 1915, Lena Gilbert Brown Ford received a phone call from the young composer Ivor Novello at her London home. World War I was raging across Europe and Novello wanted to write an inspirational, patriotic tune before joining the Royal Flying Corps. Working together, with Ford on lyrics and Novello on music, the two wrote “Keep the Home Fires Burning,” one of the most popular songs of the war, in a half-an-hour. By 1918, the song had sold over 2 million copies and been translated into seven languages including French, Russian, Italian, Welsh and, bizarrely enough, German.

'Keep the Home Fires Burning' sheet music

Lena Gilbert Brown was born in Elmira in 1870, the daughter of James L. Brown, a prosperous tobacco dealer and his wife, Antoinette. From a young age, Lena enjoyed giving poetry readings and even once swooned after an especially epic reading of the chariot scene from Ben Hur. She graduated Elmira College with a B.A in 1887 and an M.A. in 1892. Shortly after graduating she married local physician Harry Hale Ford and the couple had a son, Walter. Unfortunately, it turned out that, to quote her obituary, “Mrs. Ford’s temperament was not suited for married life” and she ended up taking Walter and going to Europe. There, she tooled around France and Italy for a while before settling in London.

Lena Gilbert Brown Ford

While living in London, Ford became friends with George W. James, the editor of The Anglo-American, who encouraged her to get into journalism. For the next 22 years, she wrote columns for his paper as well as The Irish Independent. She also was an editor for Madame, Pears Cyclopedia and The Lady of Fashion. In addition to her work in journalism, she was also a well know poet.

At the outbreak of World War I, Ford was living in London with her widowed mother, Antoinette Brown, and her son Walter. She helped to organize a series of concerts to benefit soldiers’ hospitals and even opened her house as a convalescent home. On March 7, 1918, Ford and her son were killed when her house was leveled by a German air raid. They were the first American civilian casualties of the war. Her mother was seriously wounded, but pulled to safety by a brave housemaid. The Fords were both buried in London but Elmira College built a memorial fireplace in her honor in Hamilton Hall.

by Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

As early as 1887, Edgar Woodruffe Philo attracted attention for his innovations in poultry keeping. That year the Troy Daily Times of Troy, NY reported that Philo perfected an apparatus in which alcohol is used to regulate temperature in incubators. Philo's work was part of a larger climate of agricultural innovation. By the late 19th century, scientists and amateurs undertook the challenge of improving and industrializing egg production. While much of this work took place at agricultural experiment stations or agricultural colleges, backyard farmers and other non-professionals were making an impact as well. Philo was a part of this growing trend of men who made agricultural improvement their business through publishing, teaching, manufacturing equipment, or breeding poultry.

Philo moved from Salem, NY to Elmira, NY in 1906. He relocated his Cycle Hatcher Company to Elmira citing the city’s favorable business climate. In fact, Philo and other businessmen were actively recruited by the Elmira Chamber of Commerce, which was trying to build the city's industrial standing. Philo ran the business with his son E.R. Philo.

Cycle Hatcher produced brooding and hatching equipment. Philo claimed that the company was routinely filling orders as far away as Buenos Aires, Argentina and Johannesburg, South Africa. As an offshoot of the company, Philo also published his own poultry magazine, The Poultry Review. The Review featured articles and advice about best practices in poultry raising, many distilled from Philo’s own experimentation. By 1911, Philo claimed that the Review had a readership of over 100,000 people in each state and over thirty countries.

Poultry Review, March 1908

But Philo’s real crowning achievement was the creation of his Philo System and, later, the establishment of his Philo National Poultry Institute. Philo explained his system first in his book The Philo System of Progressive Poultry Keeping, first published in 1907. His program was designed for small-scale production, like on a city lot, not for large farms. His advertisements promised that followers of his system could make $1,500 a year from a small backyard flock. Philo's system represented a radical departure from the work of many of his contemporaries. In the book, Philo contests that the theories of many poultry writers are “without foundation,” a claim he based on his thirty years of poultry experimentation and experience.

A Philo System farm in Ohio

One of his major contentions was that artificial heat was unnecessary to raise birds. Philo argued, “When they come into the world they are supplied with an abundance of heat and all we have to do is retain it.” In addition to being useless, Philo claimed that artificial heat could actually be dangerous for poultry. He also contended that heated brooders were simply too expensive and complicated to provide any benefit to one’s flock.

A Cycle Hatcher "metal mother"

Philo’s objection to artificial heat was not only practical, it was also philosophical. He wrote that Americans have “endeavored to devise appliances whereby the chickens may be turned out like the output of great factories. Although the output may be unlimited, nature has something to say when its laws are violated to any great extent.”

An Elmira couple's Philo system backyard poultry business

The other unique component of Philo's system was his belief in the close confinement of hens. According to the system, two pound broilers were best raised when confined to a space of one square foot each. Pullets received one and one half square feet, while laying hens needed three square feet.

Philo system houses

Philo's system was wildly successful and he made a small fortune selling his books, brooders, and teaching classes. Eventually he built a 30,000 square foot building on Lake Street to house both the Poultry Institute and the Cycle Hatcher Company. One floor of the building was dedicated to education, both for on-site and correspondence courses. Another floor was exclusively for printing the Review and other promotional and educational materials.

Philo National Poultry Institute

Poultry stationary printing- another service offered by Philo

The system and the Institute were not without controversy, however. Most critics said that the system was simply too labor intensive to be worth it. With it's strict feeding and cleaning schedules, the Philo System could be a full-time job. However, one of Philo's harshest critics was John F. Graham of the Amherst Agricultural Colleges, who in 1912, accused Philo and others of lying about their profits. He said of Philo, "he fishes for suckers and he gets them."

Ultimately, however, it wasn't his critics that drove him out of his business; it was his own family. In 1917 he was ousted from the business by his two children after a bitter family fight. Philo moved to Florida where he continued his work. For years, Philo had been purchasing land in Florida to create a large model farm. From there, he marketed his "New-Philo-Way," which doesn't seem to have deviated much from the original system. Philo died in 1937.

by Erin Doane, curator

There is a lot of history in old typewriters. CCHS has a collection of nearly a dozen Remington typewriters spanning nearly three-quarters of a century of history. Remington produced the first commercial typewriter in the 1870s. Mark Twain is said to have been the first American novelist to produce a manuscript on a typewriter. That typewriter happened to be a Remington. For over 35 years, the Remington Rand plant produced typewriters and office machines on Elmira’s south side.

Remington Rand employees having lunch at the plant

Christopher Sholes of Milwaukee, Wisconsin began developing the first practical typewriter in 1866. For seven years, he and two friends, Samuel W. Soule and Carlos Glidden, built and tested various designs until they finally had a working model – the Sholes and Glidden Type-Writer. In 1873, Sholes and his financial backer, James Densmore, contracted with E. Remington & Sons to produce the typewriter. In September of that year, the Remington No. 1 became the first ever commercially produced typewriter. The Remington No. 1 was also the first to have the QWERTY keyboard that is still used today rather than an alphabetically arranged keyboard. Sholes developed the new layout to keep the type bars from colliding so one could type faster.

Remington Standard Typewriter No. 6, produced from 1894 to 1914

In 1886, the Standard Typewriter Manufacturing Company bought the typewriter business from Remington. Standard Typewriter also bought the rights to continue using the Remington name, which by that time had developed a solid reputation. In 1902, Standard Typewriter changed its name to Remington Typewriter Company. The company merged with Rand Kardex Bureau in 1927 to form Remington Rand.

Remington Portable Typewriter, produced from 1920-1925

In the 1920s Remington adopted “To Save Time is to

Lengthen Life” as the advertising slogan for its typewriters.

In 1935, the idle Willys Morrow plant on South Main Street in Elmira went up for auction. Elmira Industries, Inc. bought the factory for $350,000 and offered it for free to Remington Rand if the company would relocate there. In 1936, Elmira Precision Tool Co. started making typewriter parts at the factory on contract for Remington Rand and a year later Remington Rand purchased the plant. During World War II, Remington Rand switched from manufacturing typewriters and business machines to wartime production. The top secret Norden bombsight was produced by Remington Rand in Elmira.

Remington Rand Model No. 17 was widely used

in government offices during World War II

Remington Rand had a huge backlog of civilian orders to fill when the war came to an end. In 1945, the Elmira plant produced 2,500 typewriters and 700 adding machines a week to try to catch up on the orders. Each typewriter had 2,893 parts and every one of them (except for the electric motor) were made at the plant. In the 1950s, the plant in Elmira was one of the largest office equipment factories in the world. At its peak, it employed over 6,500 employees. Remington Rand was acquired by Sperry Corporation in 1955. Sperry-Rand Corp. continued to use Remington Rand as a brand name.

Remington Standard Typewriter, c. 1950s.

The plant underwent an extensive redesign and modernization program in 1963 but business was beginning to slow following the post-war boom of the 1950s. The 119-day strike at the plant in 1969 had a considerable impact on Remington Rand and on the local economy as well. Workers lost pay during the strike and the plant fell behind in orders. The company threatened to shut down the plant and lay off the 1,850 workers but eventually both sides came to an agreement and the plant reopened. In 1972, however, the Remington Rand plant in Elmira closed for good. It just could not compete with cheaper machines being manufactured overseas.

Elmira’s Remington Rand plant, April 1965

Remington Typewriter, c. 1960s

by Rachel Dworkin, archivist
From Sunday through Tuesday, my co-workers and I will be attending the Museum Association of New York annual conference in Corning. There we will attend (and present) lectures on various museum-related topics in the hope that it will help us create better programs and exhibits. We will also eat overpriced food, network (i.e. drink with our fellow professionals), and receive an award for our award-winning History They Didn’t Teach You in School program series.

Over the years, Elmira has been host to a number of conventions and conferences. Clubs like the Loyal Order of the Moose (1922), the Ku Klux Klan (1925), and the Business & Professional Women’s Club (1951) have held their state-wide annual meetings here. Religious groups like Christian Workers (1884) and the Men & Boys Religion Forward Movement (1912) met here too, while professional organizations like the Pro-Hardware Group (1947) and Ward LaFrance dealers (1968) held trade shows and professional development.

Souvenir Program for the Loyal Order of Moose New York State Convention, Elmira, June 8-9, 1922

What made Elmira such a popular convention spot? Well, for much of the late-19^th and early-20^thcenturies it was very convenient. Up until the 1960s, there were three passenger lines which ran trains to the city: the Erie Railroad, the Delaware, Lackawanna & Western Railroad and the Pennsylvania Railroad. The Chemung County Airport, now known as the Elmira-Corning Regional Airport, opened in 1944 offering more was to get to the city.

Advertisement for the Mark Twain Hotel extoling Elmira's virtue as a Convention City, ca. 1950

There were also a number of really great venues. The Park Church, with its large meeting hall and parlors, was the site of a number of religious group conventions in the late-1800s and early-1900s. The New York State Armory on Church Street was a popular site for trade shows. The Mark Twain Hotel had ball rooms, conference rooms and dining spaces which made it the ideal convention venue. Since the hotel closed in the 1970s, the Elmira Holiday Inn has filled that niche.

Hardware convention at the Armory, July 22, 1947

Conference of Ward LaFrance dealers at the Elmira Holiday Inn

by Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

Last Sunday-Tuesday (April 12-14), most of the CCHS staff attended the annual Museum Association of New York (MANY) conference, held in Corning this year. In those three days, we were featured on three separate panels, received two awards, attended other sessions, and went to special breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and networking receptions. We also were able to catch-up with old friends in the field, while meeting new colleagues. All told, it was a great time! Here's a quick recap of what we learned and did.

This year, CCHS was selected to receive two Awards of Merit, given by MANY to acknowledge "outstanding programs and individuals who have made the state's museum community richer and more relevant. They reward the innovative efforts of staff and volunteers and they provide encouragement for the development of new and remarkable projects." First, we received the Award of Merit for Innovations in Interpretation for our new History They Didn't Teach You in School series.

I also received the Rising Star Award of Merit for my work at CCHS creating new programming and reaching out to new communities.

The CCHS staff also presented on three panels. Director Bruce and Curator Erin organized a panel called "Rethinking Outreach by Moving Outside of the Museum." The panel also featured Pam Davis-Webb, Principal of Diven Elementary, and Louise Richardson, Communications and Marketing Manager at the Chemung County Humane Society and SPCA. The panel discussed the efforts that our staff has made to work with non-traditional community partners. The audience at the panel was very interested in the discussion, with some attendees saying they wanted to try to use these ideas at their own museums.

The "Rethinking Outreach" Team: (from left to right) Louise Richardson, Pam Davis-Webb, Bruce Whitmarsh, and Erin Doane

I organized another panel, called "Making Your Mark in Our Digital World: Museums and Creative Social Media Use." The panel also featured Yvette Sterbenk, Senior Manager of Communications, Corning Museum of Glass; Bridget Sharry, Community Relations Manager, Tanglewood Nature Center and Museum; and Rachel Bournique, Student, Siena College. We discussed best practices and management techniques for social media and also how to use different platforms creatively. I brought Mark the Mammoth our museum mascot to discuss how we've used Mark to tap into an international museum community on Twitter (find Mark's Twitter account here: https://twitter.com/MarktheMammoth). We got a great response to the panel: it was standing room only and I got lots of feedback from sites that want to create their own museum mascots. Mark the Mammoth also live-Tweeted the entire conference using the official conference hashtag #MANY2015.

Thanks to our friend Bridget Sharry at Tanglewood Nature Center for live Tweeting this shot of me and Mark the Mammoth at our panel.

Curator Erin also participated on a panel about deaccessioning. This is a tricky issue for many museums and Erin's first-hand experience was helpful for museum professionals dealing with deaccessioning items in their collections.

This conference also allowed our staff and museum professionals from around the state to explore the beautiful Corning Museum of Glass (CMOG) and Rockwell Museum, our gracious hosts.

CMOG hosted a fun opening reception complete with a live glass-blowing demonstration in their new auditorium.

At the end of the three day conference, we all had many new ideas that we want to use at CCHS. We attended great panels on everything from design tips, to Common Core standards, to promoting regional tourism. We hope to use these ideas to create even more innovative, creative, and meaningful experience for our visitors and members. The staff is already making plans for next year's conference in Lake Placid.

On top of that, make sure you congratulate Director Bruce the next time you see him: he was recently elected to the board of MANY!

by Emily Weise, Elmira College intern

During my time here at the Chemung County Historical Society, I have been lucky enough to experience a subject I truly love, but also to work with people I admire. From day one, my experiences have been nothing short of an adventure. Between Kelli’s obsession with adorable historical dogs, Erin’s love of dressing up (as practically anything) and, Rachel’s vast and really incredible knowledge of every article, photo and book in the archives, there really was not a dull moment.

My time at the Historical Society has allowed me to experience history in a way I never had before. I say “experience” because there is no other way to describe it. I have spent my whole life reading about history, looking at history in museums and watching history on television; however, this was the first time I was able to touch history, to hold it in my hands.

The feeling is insurmountable. Holding a picture, document, or article of clothing in my hands makes my mind race. I begin thinking about who owned it? How did they come to own it? When did they use it? How did it get here? Who donated it? And why? Corny as this may sound, it really is true; I am a history nerd at heart.

I was able to work extensively with Rachel, the museum’s archivist, to catalogue a box of photographs from World War II. Many of these photos had hand-written inscriptions, yellowed tape, or black album paper stuck to the back. Apart from the interesting subject of the photos, these small details were my favorite things to see because it showed that at one time, these photos were important to someone. Details like those that I described are what made me realize that the work the historical society is doing for the community is invaluable. Not only are they preserving these unique and priceless items, but they are also making them readily available for the people that want to connect with the past.

World War II loan parade at Water and Main streets in Elmira, 1944

I also was able to work with Erin, the museum’s curator on dating antique hand fans. I have been a fashion girl all my life and I think it is safe to say that this experience has changed my views about fashion forever. Today, fashion is all about the most expensive item of clothing you own, or who designed it. Then (about 1850 – 1950) fashion was about art. Granted, art is still a major part of fashion today, but not in the same context that it was then. These fans were truly exquisite. The time it must have taken to paint on the designs or weave the ribbons is unimaginable. They are truly works of art.

Embroidered silk hand fan, c. 1870

My experiences at the Historical Society have really changed my perspectives on history. I have a much wider understanding of the city and county I live in, the people who created it, and the people who live here now. To me, my time at the Historical Society has been time well spent.

by Erin Doane, curator

The archives here at CCHS are a treasure-trove of information. Every file, every box, is filled with information about Chemung County. For this blog post, I decided to just dive into the vertical files and see what unknown stories I could find. That is how I discovered the Ancient Order of Flat Tires.

The Ancient Order of Flat Tires was organized on August 13, 1937. The AOFT was the brain-child of William H. Snyder. He wanted to establish a club for older men who had lived active lives and were not ready to just fade away. The objectives of the club as stated in the minutes from their first meeting were:

To assemble in one organization men of affairs who have seen three score years or more of service, whose friends and acquaintances are fast passing from this life; who need friendships and companionships in their declining years.

To establish frequent contacts with these men and help making the remaining years of life more cheerful.

Charter Officers of the Ancient Order of Flat Tires left to right:
S. Edward Rose, “Chief Vulcanizer”; Louis C. Andrews, “Collector of
Punctures”; Seymour Lowman, “Keeper of Tires”; William H. Snyder,
"Big Blowout”; and Lewis T. Barnes, 1937

Qualifications for membership were as follows:

Real Men of 60 years of age, or over, who have been active in their younger life, receiving “blow-outs” and “punctures”, which have been vulcanized and repaired; Tires that have worn off the tread down to the fabric, but are still in running order; Tires that have felt the “brakes” of depression, and done much skidding; Tires that we do not want to part with, no matter how badly worn -- the older the Tire the more welcome to membership.

The 26 charter members paid a fee of $1.00. Regular members paid $2.00. By the late 1940s, membership hit a high of over 80 man.

Ancient Order of Flat Tires membership card, 1940

The lightheartedness of the club was set from the very beginning (as evidenced by the paper bag hats in the photo above). Club officers were given the titles Big Blowout (president), Chief Vulcanizer (vice president), Collector-of-Punctures (treasurer), and Keeper-of-Tires (secretary). The Chief Inflator was added later when the club grew large enough to need another vice president. Punctures were local clubs. Puncture No. 1 was in Elmira. Puncture No. 2 was established by William Snyder in 1938 in Miami, where he wintered. In 1949, a meeting was held at the Baron Steuben Hotel in Corning to establish Puncture No. 3 there.

William Snyder, the AOFT’s founder and first
Big Blowout, with the club’s insignia, 1940

The Ancient Order of Flat Tires met about once a month at various locations including Hotel Langwell, the Mark Twain Hotel, Pierce’s Restaurant, the Masonic Temple, the City Club, the Elmira Country Club, various churches, and members’ homes. Each meeting consisted of a dinner (Dutch treat), entertainment of some sort, and a business meeting. Entertainments ranged from a musical performance from Floyd Woodhull to a lecture about the philosophy of growing old to a presentation on the life of Abraham Lincoln. The archives here has a wonderful collection of the club’s meeting minutes. Many meetings also included discussion about accepting new members and expressions of grief for newly deceased members.

Tribute to the Memory of Matthew Darrin Richardson, 1940

By the fall of 1970, the club seemed to be declining. A “call to arms” was issued to its 25 members. “We must have a Council of War meeting to determine our future,” the announcement for the November 22 meeting read. The minutes from that night, however, do not indicate that the club’s future was actually discussed.

The final meeting minutes in our archival collection are from April 25, 1972. There is no indication in the minutes that that was the last meeting of the Ancient Order of Flat Tires but we have no records of the club after that. At that meeting, Mrs. Hancock served a most delectable roast beef dinner in the Elmira Masonic Club dining room then the 13 members in attendance enjoyed a presentation by Dr. Earle G. Ridall about his cruise to Peru, complete with colored slides. There was no subsequent business meeting and the members gradually dispersed around 9:00pm.

by Rachel Dworkin, archivist

Last week we replaced all the light bulbs in our galleries with new LED lights. It took us a good 4 hours of me up a ladder, but supposedly they last for years and will dramatically cut our electric bill. Standing under their really bright lights, it got me thinking.

American inventor Thomas Edison and his British counterpart Joseph Swan both patented competing incandescent light bulbs in 1878. There had been 22 similar patents in the proceeding decades, but theirs were the first truly commercially viable designs. Over the next 100 years, there were a number of improvements which increased brightness, longevity and energy efficiency. Compact fluorescent lights (CFL) were patented by GE in 1973 but weren’t manufactured for commercial use until 1995. Light-emitting diodes (LED) were first patented in 1962, but they didn’t become commercially viable until the 1990s.

3 different styles of light bulbs, all patented in 1884

Elmira’s first electric lights were street lights installed by the United States Electric Lighting Company in 1878. It used the arc lighting system patented by Charles F. Brush. The Brush system produced a flickering blue-white light across an open arc. The arc lights, unfortunately, had a tendency toward mechanical complications and burn-outs and were phased out in favor of the more reliable incandescent lights around 1900.

Arc street light on Water Street, 1889

In-door lighting using the new Edison bulb was first installed in several downtown business including Hallock, Cary & Co. dry goods store and the Hotel Rathbun in 1882. The generator which powered them was located in the basement of A.S. Turner & Sons lumber mill on East Second Street.

Dining room of the Hotel Rathbun with new electric lights on the ceiling and older gas fixtures on the wall, ca. 1890

Few homes in the city were electrified prior to the 1890s. The Elmira Gas & Illuminating Company offered natural gas for lighting in middle and upper-class homes while poorer families made due with candles and various types of oil lamps. The first homes to be electrified tapped into the trolley system’s pre-existing power lines along Water Street, Maple Avenue and other key thoroughfares. Electrification of the city continued slowly. Newer homes could be built with the wiring in the walls, but older homes needed to be retrofitted so poorer neighborhoods lagged behind in terms of the technological changeover. In the rest of the county, there were areas which didn’t have power well into the 1930s.

Map showing distribution of power lines in Elmira, ca. 1900

by Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

Awhile ago, faithful CCHS volunteer Kristen (you can read about her awesome work here) told me about something interesting she found while working with our collections. It was a brief article transcribed from the Star Gazette in 1926 about a man named Charles Bradley. At that time, Bradley was reported to be the tallest man in Chemung County and the second tallest in the United States. His height was said to be 7' 4" (although some reports claimed he was upwards of 7' 7"). Given my long-standing interest in all things historical oddities/travelling show/spectacle/performance (which you can read about here, here, here, here, here, or here), I just had to know more.

Charles Bradley was born in Antrim, PA around 1892. There isn't much information about the family other than they were farmers and that they were all tall. Really tall. John Bradley, Charles' father, was somewhere between 6' 9" and 7' 1" tall. His seven brothers and sisters all measured over 6 feet tall. One brother, Henry, was reported to be almost as tall as Charles. Bradley's mother, however, was only 5' 6."

Bradley's height brought him considerable attention and fame. In 1909, the then 17 year old and 7' 2" Bradley signed a contract to tour with the Barnum and Bailey Circus for a season that began in Champaign, Illinois in May of that year. This was allegedly not his first offer to join show business. Barnum and Bailey featured Bradley as the "Tallest Boy in the World" and made him wear a "Little Lord Fauntleroy" costume. He was exhibited next to the "World's Smallest Woman."

Headline from 1909 when Bradley signed with Barnum and Bailey. They incorrectly report his age as 19 here (he was 17).

He was still touring the country in 1911, although he was likely not still working for Barnum and Bailey. He billed himself as the tallest man in the world, although this was likely untrue. Bradley always wore his signature Uncle Sam costume, which "accentuated" his height. He cause quite a stir in New Ulm, Minnesota while on tour, walking down the town's streets in his Uncle Sam outfit. The local newspaper reported that the hotel even had to give him a special bed that was open at the foot so he would fit. According to the report, he was in town to advertise a brand of tobacco.

Bradley left show business by the 1920s. He reportedly got "tired of the life" and decided to try "industrial pursuits" instead. During this time, he lived in Corning, Elmira, and Elmira Heights. He did still get special recognition for his height. For example, he was a member of the Loyal Order of the Moose, and he was considered to be the tallest member of that fraternal organization in the world. He participated in Moose parades and events, often marching with Marguerite Morgan of Elmira, who at 40" tall, was believed to be the smallest Mooseheart member.

Notice of an appearance in 1927.

I'm not sure what happened to Bradley after the 1920s. Presumably, he tried to live his life as normally as possible. I'm not surprised that Bradley left show business. People have a long, nasty history of exploiting people with physical differences for entertainment. We don't know much about the circumstances that led to Bradley joining the circus, but an article from 1909 contains some language that makes me wonder how much of this was his idea and how much was his family's. According to the article, Bradley was to be "turned over to the managers" and would be "sent to join the circus." The report also stated, "This is the first time Bradley has submitted to becoming an exhibit." Bradley apparently hadn't been able to do much manual labor on the farm due to his unusually rapid growth. Perhaps, joining the circus was the way that he could best help support his family. Whatever, his reasons for joining the circus, he was lucky that he was able to leave when "he got tired of the life." Not all performers and "exhibits" could.

by Erin Doane, curator

The building that now houses the Chemung County Historical Society was once the original Chemung Canal bank. It opened in 1834 as the first bank in Elmira. Amman Beardsley designed and built the two and a half story brick structure, combining elements of Greek Revival and Federal styles. The brick construction was unusual because most buildings in Elmira were made of wood at that time.

Chemung Canal Trust Co., c. 1905

In 1868, a third floor was added. The new windows and cornice were done in the Italianate style. The banking facilities were located on the first floor, business tenants occupied the second floor, and the new third floor had rental apartments for single young men. Noted architects Pierce and Bickford renovated the building in 1903. At that time, decorative features such as mahogany counters and terrazzo flooring were added as well as two more vaults. Visitors can see the large vaults in our main gallery.

Bank Vaults at the museum

The Chemung Canal Bank was originally chartered in the 1860s as publically owned company. The Arnot family took over ownership of the bank in 1857 and ran it as a private business until 1903 when it returned to public ownership. In 1920, the bank moved to new headquarters at the corner of State and Water Streets. For many years after that this building housed law offices and apartments. The Chemung County Historical Society purchased the building in 1982 and made it into a museum.

Many features of the banking floor remain
in the museum gallery including the wood
columns, terrazzo flooring, and tin ceiling.

People deposited their savings here when it was still an active bank. Money was kept safe in the formidable steel and concrete vaults. Many people also kept a stash of cash and change at home. The museum has a great collection of small savings banks ranging from the 1870s through the 1980s. We have wooden, metal, and plastic banks and even a couple mechanical banks. Here are a few examples:

The Tammany Bank of 1873 is a mechanical bank.

When “Boss” Tweed is handed a coin he puts it into his pocket.

The Union Bank, made by Kenton Brand

around 1905, has a combination lock.

Traditional piggy bank that is also a souvenir of Elmira, early 20^th century

Cast iron camel, rabbit, and elephant banks, early 20^th century

A generic Bank bank from the early 20^th century

Wooden Presbyterian Church bank “used to

House Money and to Pay Off Mortgage,” 1930s

The Uncle Sam’s Register bank from the 1930s

records change as it is deposited and has an

added security feature – the bank will lock

when the first $.25 is added and it will stay

locked until it reaches $10.00.

These banks from Mechanics Savings Bank of Elmira and Elmira Bank &

Trust Co. from the 1940s record the amount of change as it is deposited.

The plastic Tarco Juke Bank, made around 1948, lights up when a coin is deposited.

Chemung Canal bank produced for its 150^th anniversary in 1983.

by the Elmira College "Doing Public History" Class

Time flew over our six weeks taking the course and our four weeks here at the museum. At the beginning of this experience, many of us were uncertain of what “public history” would entail and how you would “do it”. Reading The Modern Temper by Lynn Dumenil before starting our exhibit gave us a good background on the 1920s but was dry and strained the brain. To also give us the tools to build the exhibit, we were assigned interpretive talks, where we picked an object and used it to tell a story.

These prior discussions helped prepare us for our time at the museum, but many of us did not have experience with primary source research. While some of us were able to stay with our original topics, others had trouble even finding one, due to the lack of resources and interest level of the students. Once we all found a topic that suited us, looking through the archives became an enjoyable objective. We found information by looking through old documents, pictures, and artifacts. Some interesting examples were playbills from theatres around Elmira, old police journals, Iszard’s blueprints, cooking recipes, and letters from the Federation Farm.

Writing our research paper based off our topics gave us a helpful guideline for creating the exhibit, although the Chicago citation style was difficult to learn. The most trying part of the entire class was attempting to organize ourselves into groups for the exhibit. Pairing the individual topics together was difficult to conceptualize since our topics varied so much. Once in groups though, it was easy to get our ideas down but challenging to refine them making sure it was at an 8th grade reading level. During this time, it was common to hear exasperated commentary such as “What do 8th graders even know?!”

When we had finished our section labels, we moved on to attempting to write our overall exhibit label. Here we struggled with finding an overall conceptual idea for our exhibit, which would bring everything together. We had many ideas but making them coherent on beautiful Friday morning proved almost impossible.

With that dark day behind us, we moved on to a very important part of exhibit planning: choosing objects. It was more difficult for the conceptual groups to find relevant materials for their image captions, than it was for other groups. But having the previous research experience helped us identify the objects we wanted to include.

This process has definitely been a journey, both in terms of history and learning the behind the scenes workings of a history museum. We created a learning experience that will last longer than the typical college term paper and will be seen more than just our professors.

We are excited to share our research and hard work with you!
See their finished product here: http://cchsonlineexhibits.wix.com/1920selmira

by Linda Norris, museum consultant

Are you a teenager (or know one) who’s interested in video production and/or history? This summer, CCHS is offering a great weekend opportunity to learn about video production while helping create our new exhibit on 20^th century teenagers in Chemung County.

On the weekend of July 18-19, workshop participants will get the chance to produce video interviews about teenage experiences. You’ll learn what makes a great question, how to set up, shoot and edit a video interview, and ways to share that content online and in exhibits.

I’ll be co-presenting the workshop with Drew Harty. I grew up in Elmira and graduated from EFA, so I have my own collection of teenage Chemung County stories, just as your parents or grandparents might. Drew is a videographer who’s worked for all different kinds of organizations and as a filmmaker in residence at the arts magnet high school in Cleveland, making films with students, some of which you can see here on his website.

Together we’ll be working together to create great questions—but here’s a couple to get you started thinking:

Where was your favorite place to hang out?
What piece of clothing made you feel cool?
What music, when you hear it on the radio, instantly brings back school?
Who were your heroes?

Space is limited for the free workshop, so register now by contacting education coordinator Kelli Huggins at (607)734-4167 x205 or educator@chemungvalleymuseum.org.

And yes, that’s me somewhere in a class photo from EFA at the top of the post!

by Rachel Dworkin, archivist

In 1907, Moses Goldstein got bored. The 22-year-old Elmiran was an active man, an athlete, who played football, boxed and was a member of the Kanaweola Bicycle Club. Since graduating high school he’d been stuck working as a clerk in his father’s Water Street clothing store. So he did what any bored 22-year-old man would do: run away from home to go work on the Panama Canal.

Postcard of the Canal Commission headquarters, 1907

The French began working on a canal across Panama in 1884, but didn’t make it very far on account of engineering difficulties and rampant tropical diseases. America took over in 1904 and spent the next ten years working to complete the project. When it was finally opened for shipping on August 15, 1914, it drastically cut down on the time and expense of shipping from the Atlantic to the Pacific (and vise versa).

Moses Goldstein's Canal Commission employee ID

In June of 1907, Goldstein was hired by the Isthmian Canal Commission to work as a guard and policeman. It was a fairly good-paying job ($75 a month) but, once again, he got bored and instead took a position as a track foreman overseeing a team laying rail lines to move construction supplies. He traveled extensively in the Caribbean during his time off and enjoyed every minute of it. “You would be surprised to see how were treated,” he wrote to his family on April 22, 1908 after a trip to Costa Rica. “I don’t believe that if some party of aristocrats would have come that they would have been treated as good as we were.”

Photo postcard of Goldstein's track team, 1908

Still, Goldstein’s life abroad wasn’t all fun and games. “No more getting up at 7 o’clock and getting to work at 8 o’clock and working a couple of hours,” he wrote on April 30, 1908. “Now I get up at 5:30 and work my 10 hours.” He enjoyed the long hours, but was getting restless again. “I may get dissatisfied and leave for I have been here for some time and you know that I have been staying here a longer time than I have stayed before.”

Within a year he had quit and taken a new job as a track foreman with May & Jeckel, an engineering firm constructing a railroad near the headwaters of the Amazon in Brazil. Malaria was rampant in the area and dozens of workers died every week. Goldstein himself suffered a severe bout of it and was hospitalized for a week in July 1909.

Note from the doctor excusing Moses Goldstein from work on account of malaria, 1909

Ultimately, the malaria killed him. While visiting Elmira in January of 1910, Goldstein suffered a relapse. He died at St. Joseph’s Hospital on January 13, 1910 at the age of 24. His adventures abroad may have lead to his death, but, before he fell ill, he had been planning to go back, this time working for a fruit export company.

by Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

"Kids these days are so violent/rude/illiterate/destructive/terrible!" “Things were so much better in the past than they are today.” As historians (and just in regular daily life), we hear these statements all the time and, frankly, they drive me crazy. They’re ahistorical, false, and colored by the romantic and nostalgic idea that there was some bygone “simpler” time. The story of juvenile delinquency in Elmira’s parks around the turn of the 20^thcentury helps illustrate the falsehood (or at least the persistence) of the “kids these days” myth.

From about 1906 through the 1910s, the local newspapers were in a tizzy reporting about the youth gangs that used Elmira’s parks as the home base for their illegal behaviors. Two gangs gained the most notoriety: the Grove Park Angels and the Eldridge Park Gang. The Grove Park Angels were primarily ethnically Irish, young school drop-outs who drank and harassed anyone in the park after dark. In 1909, the city resolved to deal with the Angels because they were receiving increased complaints about their use of profanity, loudness, and attacks on people in the neighborhood. In one incident, the Angels “insulted two women and whipped their husbands when the latter resented the insult to their wives.” The problem grew so dire that the police department stationed an officer at the park specifically to deal with the gang activity.

It wouldn't have been safe for these "respectable" park-goers to be in Grove Park at night.

Boys in Grove Park around the time the gang was active (although their behavior doesn't look too delinquent).

Police intervention in Grove Park seemed to have some impact on decreasing gang activity. By 1911, there was a baseball team named the Grove Park Angels, but I’m unsure if there was any affiliation between the gang and the team. Still, the gang didn’t disappear, and in 1913, the newspapers complained that the gang persisted because their delinquency was being passed down from generation to generation.

The Eldridge Park Gang appears to have been even fiercer than the Grove Park Angels. In 1907, their crimes were reported to “rival those of Dime Novel Desperados” (see, we’ve always blamed pop culture for youth violence!). In that year, they threw eggs at women, stole from trains, and put gravel on the tracks of Lackawanna Railroad. In their most daring act, they confiscated a Lackawanna caboose, ransacked it, shot out of windows, and then set it on fire. In 1912, a 16 year old was arrested for stealing a handcar from the railroad and taking it for a joyride. The next year, gang members were arrested for throwing stones at the police officer stationed in the park. The gang was notorious for threatening to throw police “into de lake.” The gang also attacked an automobile driver, breaking his car’s left lamp.

In the early 1920s, Elmira came up with a novel idea to help curb juvenile delinquency in the parks: they would use the parks themselves as a force for urban renewal. The Elmira City Recreation Commission formed on February 26, 1921 and was soon recognized by the National Recreation Association as one of best recreation organizations in the country. The Commission reclaimed unused or derelict city land for parks: Washington Park was built on an old rolling mill property and dumping ground; Sly Park was formerly a swamp; Eastside playgrounds replaced dilapidated old buildings. According to the Commission, Elmira had only one public tennis court in 1921, but that number jumped to 21 by 1931.

Mayor George Peck helps build Patch Park in August 1921.

Patch Park was one of the many new parks built in the 1920s.

City recreation programs were created to teach children to be good citizens. A variety of clubs and sports teams met regularly in the city parks. The Commission believed that its work was directly responsible for a decrease in rates of juvenile delinquency through the 1920s. According to the city Recorder, there were 247 cases of juvenile delinquency in 1918, but only 29 in 1928. He believed that playgrounds were successfully attracting children who would “otherwise go to the streets.”

A play performed by children in a City Recreation program in Grove Park, 1928.

Clearly, the Elmira City Recreation Commission didn’t solve the problem of juvenile delinquency, but its work does illustrate some of the ways that adults can work proactively with kids. Things change from generation to generation, but in reality, nothing is really ever that different.

by Erin Doane, curator

The other day I came across an odd item in collections storage. That in itself is not unusual. With over 20,000 historic objects here at the museum, I’m bound to find things I haven’t seen before. This item is a group of 50 advertising cards for The Swift Lubricator Co. of Elmira. A small picture is glued to the back of each card with a number written in pencil above it and a word or phrase below – Bird or Fowl, Animal, Vegetable, Flower, or Composer of Music. The pictures themselves show a wide variety of things, from a teacher in front of a classroom to children in a field to a goat crashing into a mug. The whole pack of cards was a mystery and I decided to investigate.

Advertisement on one side of the card

Game on the other side

The Swift Lubricator Co. was started by Allen W. Swift around 1885. Swift first appears in the Elmira city directories in 1877. He is listed first as a steam engine manufacturer and then as a lubricator manufacturer. In 1882 he was granted a patent for a steam engine lubricator that he had invented. An October 3, 1884 Commercial World & United States Exporter article describes how Swift’s lubricator worked. “…the steam passes it [the lubricator] on its way to the cylinder, a small portion of the live steam carries with it into the valve chest and through this into the cylinder, a constant succession of drops of oil which it reduces to the condition of vapor, so finely are its particles divided. The oil vapor enters with the steam into every part of the valve, chest and cylinder and secures them a perfect lubrication.” Railroads including the New York, West Shore and Buffalo Railroad and the Chicago and Alton Railroad used these lubricators on their locomotives. Over 200 of them were sold in June 1884.

Swift's lubricator patent

So, what does all that have to do with the pile of cards I found? Not much, really. The cards were obviously used to advertise the Swift Lubricator Co. but I think the pictures on the back were added later and have little to nothing to do with the company. My guess is that someone repurposed leftover cards. When the cards were produced, the company was located on 730 W. 1^st Street. Around 1900, the business moved to 729-731 W. 2^nd Street. The cards with the old address then became useless. Someone, perhaps a member of the Swift family, perhaps not, took fifty of the cards, added pictures to the backs and created a game. Fortunately, someone included a numbered list with the cards so we can understand how the game was played. Each picture represents a bird, an animal, a flower, etc. as indicated by the category written below it in pencil. You have to guess what the picture is. For example, the picture of the teacher at the blackboard I included above is from the vegetable category and represents peas. Got it? Here’s some more to try with the answers at the bottom of this post.

Answers: 1: pheasant; 10: robin; 14: woodchuck; 21: tomatoes; 32: hollyhock; 40: buttercup; 41: Schumann

Click here for a pdf with all 50 cards and the answer key. Disclaimer: a couple of the images are racist. There’s no other way to say it. The game is a product of its time and CCHS does not endorse any such cultural depictions.

by Rachel Dworkin, archivist

Back when I first started working here, County Historian Archie Kieffer was the only man in an office full of women. None of us ladies were locals so any time we had a question we just went down the hall to his office because he always knew the answer. Archie was free with hugs and life advice too. He called us his girls. We called him our grandpa and we loved him.

Archie and his 'girls': Casey Lewis, Amy Wilson, Archie Kieffer, Rachel Dworkin, Kerry Lippincott & Peggy Malorzo

J. Arthur Kieffer (1921-2015) was born and raised in Elmira. In his youth, Archie was a ladies’ man and dance hall Romeo who seriously considered a career as a pro-golfer before his father set him straight. During World War II, he served first as a dog trainer on Long Island and then in as a tail gunner in the 459 Bomb Group in the U.S. Army Air Corp. It was while he was serving on Long Island that he met his wife Sophie at a USO dance. After the war, Archie worked for Streeter Associates as a mason foreman and then as superintendent of County Buildings and Grounds from 1966 to 1983. We used to joke that there wasn’t anything built after 1950 that he hadn’t had a hand in.

Archie and his WWII B24 bomber crew. Archie is the one posing front and center.

While construction was his work, history was his passion, or at least one of them (the other being dahlias). He served as the chairman of the Chemung County Bicentennial Commission in 1976. He became Chemung County Historian in 1991 and served until his retirement in 2013. Archie was the author of The Junction Canal as well as his own autobiography. He also penned dozens of lectures and articles in the Chemung Historical Journal.

Archie as chairman of the Chemung County Bicentennial Commission, 1976

During his 94 years, Archie touched a lot of lives. He served on the Chemung County Board of Supervisors and was actively involved in every club and association from the American Legion to the Veteran Historical Society. He was the sort of man who made friends where ever he went. Archie was my friend and I will miss him.

Archie and me

by Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

I spent part of this last week putting together a conference proposal about Railroad Jack, a train-riding dog based out of Albany, NY, who was nationally famous in the 1880s and 1890s. When I'm not busy researching Chemung County for our exhibits, blog posts, and programs, my work focuses on the rise of canine celebrity in the late 19th century. Fortunately, these two intersect occasionally and I can sometimes write about famous Chemung County dogs. In this post, I'll tell you about some of Chemung County's trolley and train dogs.

In the late 19th century, there was a trend of dogs gaining recognition for their train-riding prowess. The most famous example is the United States Post Office's Owney, a terrier mutt who road the mail trains out of Albany. He is still remembered today and his taxidermied body is on display at the US Postal Museum. However, Owney was only one of many dogs who lived in rail yards, road trains, and befriended rail workers. The exploits of train dogs, even those who were less famous, were published in newspapers and magazines throughout the country. These tales are often heavily embellished, but still indicate that many dogs closely associated themselves with trains. This is likely for several reasons: strays found attention and food at rail yards and stations and some dogs probably enjoyed the movement of trains (like dogs in cars today).

Chemung County played host to travelling dogs, including Railroad Jack. In 1890, Jack came to Elmira and the railroad workers brought him to the Elmira Telegram office to have a play date with the newspaper's famous dog mascot, Colonel.

Drawing of Railroad Jack clipped from a newspaper. This is in our collection in the scrapbook of Elmira Police Chief Levi Little. The scrapbook is primarily clippings about crimes, but Little clipped an occasional pop culture piece. Railroad Jack was one of those few non-crime stories that Little cared enough about to add to his scrapbook.

But the county's homegrown travelling dogs are pretty interesting, too. For example, in 1894, the papers reported that an Erie yard switchman brought his black and tan dog with him to work. The dog reportedly was fond of quickly ducking under and out from moving train cars, riding on the steps of the engine and in the cab, chasing off tramps and other dogs, and then eating his dinner in the switch shanty.

Elmira also had trolley dogs. The image below shows a trolley line car, probably in the late 19th century. If you look closely at the road on the far right side of the image, you'll see a small, fuzzy image of a collie. On the back of the image, someone noted that the dog always followed the line cars.

The dog is on the far right side of the image. On an unrelated note, I'm glad I didn't have to use that rickety-looking line car!

Elmira even had its own Railroad Jack (this was an exceptionally common name for rail dogs). In the early 1900s, a bulldog named Jack gained local fame for chasing the trolley from Horseheads and Elmira Heights down the line to Elmira. He did this, reportedly, everyday for years, earning the admiration of the linemen. In August of 1906, he was falsely reported to have been killed in a trolley accident, but it evidently had been an "imposter." In September of 1906, however, Jack retired. One day he was chasing the trolley as usual, but he became tired around the Reformatory and stopped to lay down by the tracks. This was the first time Jack ever stopped chasing the moving trolley. He walked over to the nearby Stearns silk mill where the employees fed him. Apparently he decided this was a more favorable arrangement, and he was adopted as the Stearns mascot. Jack's trolley-chasing job was apparently taken over by a deaf dog named Dummy. However, the train workers didn't respect him as much because he would ride the trolley when he got tired, which was something Jack wouldn't do.

Train dogs still got some attention a few decades later, but the late 19th and early 20th centuries were the height of the train dog craze. In 1937, a dog named Jack the Bum, who was based out of Scranton, PA, was shot and killed. Jack was famous for riding the trains on the Lackawanna line and was a frequent visitor to Elmira. George E. Griffis, an engineer from Elmira who took many trips with Jack in the engine, memorialized him in the newspaper. He said that he would ride with his head out of the windows and "that dog would brush cinders from his eyes with his paws, same as any man."

by Erin Doane, Curator

On the morning of April 7, 1990, the Chemung County Sheriff’s Department received an odd telephone call. They were told that the lake behind the Sullivanville Dam had disappeared. They thought it was an April fool’s joke until they saw that the 26-acre lake was, indeed, dry. This strange occurrence brought up a whole host of questions. How was the lake drained? Who emptied it? Why did they do it? And, most importantly, would the lake be refilled by May 26 when the $4.7 million dam project was scheduled to be dedicated?

Panorama of Sullivanville Dam, July 15, 2015

The Sullivanville Dam was a highly debated project that suffered many delays before its eventual construction. In the late 1960s, Chemung County, the federal government, and the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (NYSDEC) began plans for flood control in the Newtown-Hoffman Creek Watershed. The project included the Marsh Dam east of Breesport, the Park Station Dam in Erin, the Hoffman Dam on Elmira’s north side, and the Sullivanville Dam in Horseheads. The Sullivanville Dam is the largest in the Newtown-Hoffman network. The earthen dam is 70 feet high, 450-feet wide, and 2,400-feet long with a 26-acre surface area. It reduced the risk of flooding in Horseheads and the east side of Elmira by an estimated 80 percent and provided protection to 530 people, 151 homes, and 73 commercial, industrial and public buildings when it was completed in 1988. But it was almost never built.

In 1979 the U.S. Soil Conservation Service declared that no more flood control projects in the Newtown-Hoffman Creek Watershed program should be built because the cost of the projects, including the Sullivanville Dam, could not be justified by flood control benefits. While it was estimated that the Sullivanville Dam would significantly reduce flooding in Elmira and Horseheads, the $4.5 million cost would only result in an estimated benefit of $3.3 million.

There was also local opposition to the Sullivanville Dam. When the project moved forward again in 1984 local legislators argued that it was not cost-effective. For the project, Chemung County had to acquire a total of 230 acres of private land made up of 32 properties in the towns of Horseheads and Veteran including eight family homes. Several homeowner did not want to give up their homes and land, delaying the project further. Even as the bulldozers were starting to move earth in 1988, protesters were seeking a federal court injunction to stop construction. The project also forced a portion of Route 13 to be rerouted.

On May 31, 1988, after nearly 25 years of arguments and delays, a contingent of local, state, and federal officials ceremoniously dug the first shovelfuls of dirt. The U.S. Soil Conservation Service designed the dam and paid the Cold Spring Construction Co. of Akron, New York $4.73 million to construct it. Less than two years later, the dam was finished. Its official dedication was held on May 26, 1990 and, yes, the lake had refilled with water by then. Natural runoff and snow in the watershed refilled the lake in less than a week.

Sullivanvilled Dam when it was completed, 1990

It took at least two strong people to break into the valve mechanism on top of the dam to drain the lake. They used a hacksaw to cut the lock on the manhole and a pry bar to lift the lid and access the valves. Fortunately, whoever perpetrated this prank/crime did not damage the valves. Once opened, the valves released a slow but steady stream of water from the lake. It is thought that the valves may have been opened on Thursday night or Friday morning and that the water level dropped so slowly that no one noticed until Saturday morning.

Manhole on the top of the dam

I never found a report of who emptied the lake or even if anyone had been caught. For some time before the Dam’s dedication there had been requests for the sheriff to increase patrols of the area. Neighbors had complained of cars drag racing on the closed stretch of Route 13 and people holding wild parties. Perhaps it was thoughtless vandals who opened the dam’s valves. Perhaps it was done as a continued protest against the construction of the dam.

July 15, 2015

Today, you can fish and hike at the Sullivanville Dam. It is one of 73 parks within Chemung County. This summer CCHS is celebrating public green spaces, like the Sullivanville Dam, with the exhibit Parks and Recreation and the Parks and Recreation Contest. By offering prizes like wristbands and backpacks, we hope to encourage people to visit all parts of the county and enjoy some of the wide variety of parks this area has to offer. Click here for more information about the contest.

by Rachel Dworkin, archivist

When the Fugitive Slave Act was signed into law in 1850 it angered many northerners. The law required that all law enforcement officials throughout the country (even in free states) arrest anyone accused of being a runaway slave and imposed a $1,000 fine (approximately $28,000 in present-day value) for any who refused to do so. Suspected slaves received no trails and had no recourse for appeals, putting free-born blacks in serious danger of being kidnapped and taken south under false pretenses. Any civilians who aided escaped slaves could face 6 months in prison and a $1,000 fine. There was, however, a loophole: it only applied to slaves who entered free states and territories without their masters’ permission.

On August 11, 1853, Jervis Langdon, Jared Arnold, and their attorney Mr. Woods petitioned the court of behalf of Miss Juda Barber, a 20-year-old slave. Miss Barber was owned by a Mr. Barber of Missouri and had been lent to a Mr. Warner to act as a lady’s maid for his wife on their trip to Horseheads, New York. Before they left, she had promised her master that she would return, but once she was here she decided to seek her freedom. Woods argued that New York was a free state and Miss Barber was being illegally held against her will. After hearing the case, Judge Arial Thurston, an avowed abolitionist and Underground Railroad supporter, declared her a free woman. Miss Barber left the courtroom with Sandy Brandt and John Jones and vanished into history.

Jervis Langdon was an abolitionist and financial supporter of the Underground Railroad. He helped to pay for Miss Barber's lawsuit.

Judge Arial Thurston was a personal friend of Underground Railroad conductor John Jones and had sheltered fugitives in his own home. His ruling in the Barber case was pretty much a foregone conclusion.

The interesting thing about the case is that it was neither the first nor the last time a slave transported to a free state sued for freedom. The last such case was, in fact, the famous Dred Scott v. Sandford heard by the Supreme Court in 1857. Like Juda Barber, the slave Dred Scott had been transported by his master to a free state and sued for his freedom. Scott lost his initial case and appealed to the higher court which not only upheld the lower court’s ruling but also held that blacks, whether slave or free, could not be citizens and thus had no right to sue at all. The ruling was later nullified by the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution which granted citizenship to all persons born or naturalized in the United States. Today the Dred Scott decision is widely regarded as the worst decision ever made by the Supreme Court.

Dred Scott unsuccessfully sued for his freedom along with that of his wife and 2 daughters in DredScott v. Sandford (1857). The ruling against him is widely regarded as the worst Supreme Court decision ever.

By Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

On October 29, 1900, then New York State Governor Theodore Roosevelt was in Elmira on a stop on his Vice Presidential campaign. Roosevelt was the running mate of incumbent President William McKinley. Roosevelt was greeted with a “great political demonstration” in the city, with a parade with nearly 1,000 mounted “Rough Riders.” People crowded the Lyceum and Tivoli Theaters and several outdoor locations to hear him speak. The news estimated that 20,000 people were in the city for the campaign activities. However, this outpouring of support is actually the least interesting part of the story. The real drama came when Roosevelt was assaulted by a mob in the streets.

McKinley/Roosevelt campaign button

The 1900 Presidential campaign was between Republican incumbent McKinley and Democratic challenger William Jennings Bryan. Bryan ran on an anti-imperialism and “Free Silver” platform. Roosevelt campaigned extensively in an effort to paint Bryan as a radical. As the election neared, the campaign became more heated.

In addition to his large speaking engagements in Elmira, Roosevelt also had smaller meetings with local supporters and political figures, including John B. Stanchfield, an Elmiran campaigning for Roosevelt’s soon-to-be vacant Governor position.

John B. Stanchfield

Stanchfield ultimately lost his campaign for Governor

On his way to one of those meetings, Roosevelt was riding in a carriage with former Senator Jacob Sloat Fassett. At several points along the route he was pelted with rotten eggs, vegetables, and other projectiles by Bryan supporters. A mob of about 100 people also shouted the “vilest epithets” at him and voiced their support for Bryan. One “ruffian” was said to shove his fist under the Governor’s nose while another threw a heavy cane that knocked his hat. Allegedly, Roosevelt sat in silence while police did nothing. Fassett reported that the mob appeared to be all boys under the age of 17.

J. Sloat Fassett

The Roosevelt campaign club from Corning also clashed with Bryan supporters. Fighting and rioting broke out around the campaign path, especially near Railroad Avenue. Multiple injuries were reported and Robert Richards of the Corning Escort Club went to the Corning City Hospital for injured back. There was an uptick of other crime during Roosevelt’s visit: 14 people had their pockets picked and four men robbed the Queen City Gardens at gun point.

The New York Times dubbed the incidents “The Elmira Disturbance.” The news compared the fighting to that of the showdowns of the Wild West, except that the Elmira fights were more “prolonged, savage, vindictive, and bloody.”

After arriving at his meeting, Roosevelt spoke of the attacks saying, “It was nasty conduct, the conduct of hoodlums.” In a speech in Corning the next day, he said, “Now is the time to stamp out Bryanism. The affair at Elmira last night cast shame upon the country where the right of free speech should be observed.”

Mayor Frank H. Flood called a special meeting of the Police Commissioners to investigate the mob assault of Roosevelt. They gathered evidence and witness accounts. Among the projectiles recovered were “a large turnip, an old shoe, and a club” taken from Roosevelt’s carriage, which were put on display at the Republican Headquarters. It is unclear whether any charges were ever filed related to the incident.

The “Elmira Disturbance” was just one incident that arose from the heightened pre-election political tension. Around same time Senator Depew was attacked by Bryan supporters in Cobleskill, NY. Ultimately, McKinley and Roosevelt won the election (and also carried Chemung County). However, the Elmira assault was a dark moment in the history of the campaign. And you thought politics were bad nowadays!

Keep the Home Fires Burning

The Philo National Poultry Institute and the Business of Birds

Remington Typewriters: "To Save Time is to Lengthen Life"

Convention City

CCHS at the Museum Association of New York Conference

Time Well Spent

The Ancient Order of Flat Tires

Let There Be Light

Charles Bradley: Chemung County's (and the World's?) Tallest Man

Saving for the Future

The Students Tell All

Make a Teen Movie!

A Man A Plan A Canal Panama

Gangs and Juvenile Delinquency in Elmira Parks in the Early 20th Century

Lubricators and Puns

Farewell Archie Kieffer

Chemung County's Famous Train and Trolley-Riding Dogs

How Did a Lake Disappear?

Sue Your Way to Freedom

That Time Theodore Roosevelt was Assaulted in Elmira