# 16 – They call it Progress
Harry Drum, 1933 |
The Drum's car. I believe that's Harry at the wheel but, of course, he was too young yet to drive. |
A few cows provided milk, chickens were kept for eggs and
meat, a few pigs, a garden that provided vegetables and herbs, and even a few
hives of honeybees for wax and honey – the family “made do”.
Elmer Drum is on the left. I believe the man milking the cow is Elmer Coogan. |
Life was all
about “putting up” (canning) meats and vegetables to carry the family through
the long winter months. Smoked meats and sausage added to the dinner table.
Ella could almost always be found in the kitchen; when not washing or mending
clothing; baking bread, buns, pies, cakes, or cookies.
Canned Green Beans. I really don’t know when these were canned, or even what is in those other jars (red beets?). Frankly, I’m a little afraid to touch them |
The last two cakes of Lard Soap. I believe this batch was made in 1966. |
Lard and lye were
boiled together to make soap. Sweaters were knitted, socks were darned, holes
were patched; you made things last.
If you grew up on a farm you knew how to butcher a calf,
slaughter a chicken, fix the tractor, and pick potato bugs[1]!
You could make jams, jellies, and other
preserves, cure a ham or a fever, stop a cough, cut down a tree and turn it
into lumber. Apple sauce, apple butter, apple pies, apple vinegar, apple cider,
apple dumplings and even scrapple,
which has nothing to do with apples at all, unless you spread the apple butter
on it (which is yummy!), could all be made. Blueberries, raspberries,
strawberries, even gooseberries,
were grown, collected, sometimes dried, and always enjoyed.
The Schaffer's stop by for a visit! From left to
right, Cal Schaffer, Laura Schaffer, Mary “Grandma” Schaffer. Walking beside wagon is Ed Schaffer. |
Using his blacksmith skills, Nathan fashioned much of
what he needed from metal. He taught his son, Elmer, how to do that as well,
which got him an early job at the mines.
Carpentry, however, seems to be the craft of choice for
many of the Drums. Philip II is listed as a carpenter in the 1810 Census. His
son, Edward, helped build the Drums Methodist Church. Nathan put that skill to
good use in the mines. Elmer was using his carpentry skills even earlier than
his blacksmithing skills. I think of him every time I look at the wonderful 7’
corner cabinet he made. Ella wasn’t sure if he’d made it just before leaving to
fight in France during WW1 or just after he returned.
Elmer, in turn, taught many of his carpentry skills to
his son Harry who put them to good use to build, among other things, a house in
1953, the house I call “Drumyngham”. It sits on 6.3 acres of land on what is
known today as West Butler Drive; approximately 1.3 miles west of Drums Corner
where George built his hotel in 1820 and Josiah and Stephen had their dry goods
store in the 1870’s; and about two tenths of a mile west of Beisels Corner
where John Balliet built his lean-to when he first arrived in the valley back
in 1784.
The land Drumyngham sits on was sold to my dad by his
mother in 1959. Ella and Elmer had purchased the land from Calvin Schaffer in
1941.
Walking south from the house, across the fields or down
Young’s Lane, toward Butler Mountain, one comes upon a house foundation where
once a home had stood looking out over the Little Nescopeck Creek. It was Cal
Schaffer’s house but served four years as the home of Nathan, Mary, Elmer and
Christie in the early 1900’s.
It was on this house’s porch where the Drums had probably
their only family portrait made.
I took this photo of the house in August, 1972. |
Empty for many years and becoming a hazard, Ransom Young tore
it down in the mid-1980’s.
Ella saw the Interstate Highway Route 81 be built across
the valley in the early 1960’s. It almost followed the path the Wilkes-Barre
and Hazleton (WB&H) Railway took as it came down the mountain and across
the valley in the early part of the 20th Century.
The WB&H was an electric powered railway that
pioneered the protected third rail, the third rail being the source of the
electrical power. It’s the system that is used today to power the Metro Trains in Washington, D.C. It seems most people today think of the WB&H as a means
of travel for passengers. However, it also hauled quite a bit of freight.
It was a fairly safe conveyance although it did have its
moments. One story often told was how a large rattlesnake once curled up on a
switchstand for a late afternoon snooze. A passenger car heading South needed
to switch there to a siding to allow a heavily loaded Coal “drag” to pass by.
The snake had other ideas. Eventually, man overcame reptile, at least they got
it to move to a different napping place, and commerce was able to move forward
once again. Another story involves a two-year old girl who fell asleep in the
back of the car. It wasn’t until the run arrived at the garage in Hazleton that
she was discovered. A special run back to Ashley had to be made to reunite the
very worried parents with the still happily sleeping child.[4]
A third story was told in the Hazleton Standard-Sentinel on January 20, 1920. As the operator, Engineman Harry Cunius, ran his car at a fast pace along the Nescopeck Mountain, it apparently disturbed a flock of Quail from their resting place. The Quail took flight and, choosing a rather unfortunate flight path for escape, flew up against the car. Neither Harry nor his passengers were hurt, but it was reported that two of the birds lost their lives in the incident.[17} Below we tell the story of a far greater tragedy involving Engineman Harry Cunius.
Sometimes it seemed like nature, herself, was working against the train; which, of course, she was! Four days after the incident with the quail, the 1:10 pm to Wilkes-Barre was badly damaged by a rockfall along the right-of-way. A large boulder broke loose from the wall and struck the back end of the car. Luckily, the damage was only to the car, itself. Although rather shaken by the experience, none of the passengers were injured. [18]
A third story was told in the Hazleton Standard-Sentinel on January 20, 1920. As the operator, Engineman Harry Cunius, ran his car at a fast pace along the Nescopeck Mountain, it apparently disturbed a flock of Quail from their resting place. The Quail took flight and, choosing a rather unfortunate flight path for escape, flew up against the car. Neither Harry nor his passengers were hurt, but it was reported that two of the birds lost their lives in the incident.[17} Below we tell the story of a far greater tragedy involving Engineman Harry Cunius.
Sometimes it seemed like nature, herself, was working against the train; which, of course, she was! Four days after the incident with the quail, the 1:10 pm to Wilkes-Barre was badly damaged by a rockfall along the right-of-way. A large boulder broke loose from the wall and struck the back end of the car. Luckily, the damage was only to the car, itself. Although rather shaken by the experience, none of the passengers were injured. [18]
Some of the stories are less enjoyable that still are
told. In 1903, the year the line opened, Cars 204 and 119 collided when one of
them lost control and became a runaway.[5]
Rough way to start a railroad! Even still, the WB&H was all about safety. In
fact, the road was built so it never had a street crossing. This was originally
done to protect the third rail but it also added the safety aspect of the train
never running into any automobiles.
However, it did. In one of the few places along the route
where the street crossed a bridge over the line instead of the other way
around, a driver lost control of his car, the car jumped the curb on the bridge
and fell onto the tracks below directly in front of an on-coming WB&H car.
All seven of the automobile’s passengers; mother, father, and five children;
died in the accident.[6]
Then, of course, there is the horrible death of Engineman Harry Cunius. Without going into too many details here of the why and how it happened, the result was a head-on collision at St. Johns on May 8, 1928. One Engineman was able to jump to safety but Harry was trapped in the wreckage of his car and died in the fire that resulted from the wreck.[7] Twenty-seven passengers were hurt but thankfully none seriously. Seven were admitted to hospital for conditions such as contusions, lacerations, a concussion and a few broken bones. [8]
Then, of course, there is the horrible death of Engineman Harry Cunius. Without going into too many details here of the why and how it happened, the result was a head-on collision at St. Johns on May 8, 1928. One Engineman was able to jump to safety but Harry was trapped in the wreckage of his car and died in the fire that resulted from the wreck.[7] Twenty-seven passengers were hurt but thankfully none seriously. Seven were admitted to hospital for conditions such as contusions, lacerations, a concussion and a few broken bones. [8]
One man who was in the growing crowd of people watching
the removal of victims was overheard saying, “Am I lucky? I was scheduled to
board that car for Wilkes-Barre but missed it.”[9]
Mr. Max Friedlander, County Assessor, also missed that car causing great
concern for his family because they knew he always took that car. It wasn’t until they learned he missed the
car that they were able to relax.[10]
Mrs. William Smith, Jr.’s family wasn’t so lucky. She had been in Hazleton
visiting her in-laws and didn’t miss the car she had hoped would take her home
to Pittston. She was one of the victims who had to be taken to Hazleton State
Hospital.[11]
Mr. Cunius was laid to rest in the Mt. View Cemetery,
West Hazleton, PA on Friday, May 11, 1928.[12]
The train and its tracks have long been gone. However, if
you look carefully, there are still many hints left in the ground that tell us
where the WB&H ran; fewer, however, each day. On April 9, 2018, Pete
Medvecky, life-long resident of Drums, took me into the woods to see some of
these “hints” from the past.[13]
We stopped first at the WB&H Drums
Station. The station is located approximately 350 feet, maybe less, just west (to the right in this photo) of the place where South Old Turnpike Road (SOTR) crosses the Little Nescopeck. It was probably the station Ella and Elmer would have used to catch the train had they wanted to ride to Hazleton or Wilkes-Barre. I wasn't smart enough to get some photos in April, so I returned in November, after many of the leaves were down again, to get this photo and the following photos. That's why the photos don't "look" like April!
The place where SOTR crosses the Little Nescopeck. |
All that remains of the station is the concrete platform, building foundation, and entry steps.
Leaving the station, we walked over to, and up upon, the western
support for the trestle that once passed over South Old Turnpike Road and the
Little Nescopeck Creek.
These are the stairs in the front of the station, almost in the middle of the structure. The creek is directly in front of us, the passenger side is to our left and the loading dock is to our right. |
The Western Support is to the right in this photo. I didn't re-climb it in November. On the left is the Eastern Support. |
Looking from Drums side toward Fritzingertown. I was standing right at the "Y" in the road. Behind me left is the road to Drums Corner. Behind me right is the road to Beisel's Corner |
Climbing back down, we crossed South Old Turnpike Road and
followed the rail bed until we came upon the Kis-Lyn Station, again just slabs
of concrete that provided hints of the activities that took place there in the
days just after the turn of the 19th to the 20th Century. In November, I didn't return to the Kis-Lyn Station for photos. Seen one station foundation, seen them all!
This photo of the train rolling over the Nescopeck River in St. Johns is posted on the Butler Township Website’s History Page. |
While standing on what’s left of the train station, one
imagines ladies dressed in Edwardian Tea
Dresses boarding the train for a trip to Wilkes-Barre perhaps to visit
their sick grandma or for a day of shopping; or a young couple, clamoring
aboard, laughing and involved only with each other, oblivious to all around
them, on their way to Blytheburn for a picnic.
In this picture, taken by Edward Finstermacher about 1910 looking west, we see the WB&H trestle at Beisels Corner.
The WB&H Beisels Corner Station is just
off the picture to the left. Pete and I didn’t look for the Beisels Corner station.
It no longer exists; covered over by Interstate 81. Lifelong Drums resident, Bob Reed[16], told me he lived in what was once the WB&H Beisels Station. His house, the station, "was right in the middle of the northbound lane of 81. Yes, sir, and our barn sat right in the middle of the southbound lane! That was a well-built house! When they tried to blow it up the first time, to put the roadway through, it didn't budge. They had to do it again! There was a siding there too, where the freight runs would pull off to deliver their loads. They'd pull up and the men would shovel the gravel off into big piles beside the tracks. Tar was delivered there too. There's probably still a few feet thick of tar left back in there behind Young's house." "You saw the trains run?" I asked. I was sure Bob was not old enough to have seen the trains. "No!, he laughed, "Those trains had stopped running by the time my memories begin. There was an old engine that sat down there but I don't know what ever happened to it"
I often wish the train still made its run, even if it was
only through the Drums Valley and not all the way to Wilkes-Barre. How
thrilling it would be to ride it down Butler Mountain, around the Kis-Lyn
horseshoe curve, over the Little Nescopeck, up to Beisels Corner, and over to
St. Johns. One author called riding the WB&H a “thoroughly spine-tingling
experience…through ravishingly beautiful mountain scenery: Spring, Summer, Fall
or Winter.”[14]
Just to see it run, especially at night, casting its “eerie blue and green
flashes from its third-rail shoes as it wound its way up grade…”[15]
would be a thrill itself!
I wonder if I’d have appreciated the WB&H then as
little as I appreciate seeing the trucks make their way up Butler Mountain on
I-81 now. For me, watching from Drumyngham, all I usually notice is the noise
they make and how unnatural they are compared to the natural beauty that
surrounds them. That’s how I imagine it was for Elmer and Ella, and later Harry
and Clara, too, when the WB&H ran by. Since the train ran rather close to
their home in Fritzingertown, they must have experienced the WB&H as all
noise and unnatural lights breaking into their quiet evening as the WB&H
rushed past on its way off the mountain and on to Kis-Lyn or making its return
to Hazleton.
Unless I’m driving on it, I often think of I-81 as a
nuisance. Yet, looked at in a different way, the trucks on I-81, at least at
night, really are quite beautiful. At night, each tractor-trailer glows,
outlined in red lights. During the day they look like small toys as they run up
and down the mountain. I’m sure the rose-tinted lenses of nostalgia we’ll wear
tomorrow will have us looking back on I-81 in a kindly way, as they do now when
we wear them to look back at the things and events of yesteryear, such as the
WB&H.
Return on January 28, 2019, to read about even MORE
“progress” in #17, “Noise or Progress,
you be the Judge.”
[1]
Potato Bugs, in my estimation, are the larva of the Colorado Potato Beetle. A
fine picture of the little, pink beetle larva I used to pick off our potato
plants can be found at: https://news.psu.edu/story/451295/2017/02/18/research/three-way-dance-between-herbivores-plants-and-microbes-unveiled
More information about this pest can be had at: https://ento.psu.edu/extension/factsheets/colorado-potato-beetle
[2]
Quinby, Cdr. E. J., Wilkes-Barre and Hazleton Railway, (Fredon, NJ:
Model Craftsman Publishing Corp., 1972)
[3]
The Lehigh Traction Company which owned and operated the WB&H, ceased
operation in 1932. The large interurban
cars were then replaced by three Mack Rail buses which operated between
Wilkes-Barre and Hazle Park for approximately 1 more year, the WB&H totally
ceasing operations 9/17/1933. See: http://www.northeast.railfan.net/wbh.html
accessed 9/18/2018.
[5]
“110 Years Ago”, Hazleton Standard-Speaker, April 6, 2018, p A 18.
[6] Quinby,
pp 59 - 60
[7] Quinby,
pp 47 - 55
[8]
“Three-fold Probe into Wreck: Conductor makes Statement: Injured in Good
Condition”, The Plain Speaker, Hazleton, PA, Wednesday Afternoon, May 9,
1928, p 1.
[9]
“Man Missed Car”, The Plain Speaker, Hazleton, PA, Wednesday Afternoon,
May 9, 1928, p 3.
[10]
“Missed Car and Wreck”, The Plain Speaker, Hazleton, PA, Wednesday
Afternoon, May 9, 1928, p 3.
[11] “Was
Visiting Here”, The Plain Speaker, Hazleton, PA, Wednesday Afternoon,
May 9, 1928, p 3.
[12]
“Three-fold Probe into Wreck: Conductor makes Statement: Injured in Good
Condition”, The Plain Speaker, Hazleton, PA, Wednesday Afternoon, May 9, 1928,p 1.
[13] Pete
Medvecky interview and hike conducted April 9, 2018.
[14]
Quinby, p 85
[15] Quinby,
p 85
[16] Reed, Robert, Interview took place at the Butler Township Active Adult Center in Drums on January 16, 2020.
[16] Reed, Robert, Interview took place at the Butler Township Active Adult Center in Drums on January 16, 2020.
[18] "100 Years Ago", Hazleton Standard-Speaker, January 24, 2020, p A 2
No comments:
Post a Comment