The Milliner’s Goldfish

by Erin Doane, Senior Curator

On September 15, 1939, Mrs. Bertha Whitley’s pet goldfish passed away. Such an event would not normally make the news but, in this case, the goldfish was reportedly 41 years old. If true, it would have been born around 1898. That was the year the USS Maine exploded in Cuba’s Havana Harbor, sparking the Spanish-American War. The same year saw the founding of the Goodyear tire company, the annexation of Hawaii by the U.S., and the discovery of radium by Marie Curie. The goldfish would have lived through the First World War, the Roaring Twenties, and the Great Depression.

Matt Richardson wrote about Mrs. Whitley and her goldfish in his “‘Round Town” column in the Star-Gazette on November 14, 1939. He sounded a bit skeptical about her claim that the goldfish had lived 41 years, but he didn’t push the issue. He wrote about her home about two miles west of Fitch’s Bridge with its $400 fence with two swinging ornamental iron gates and how she liked listening to the radio. He also mentioned that she had worked for nearly 50 years in the millinery and hair goods business in downtown Elmira, having been trained by Louisa Hoppe, one of the city’s best wigmakers.

After reading Mr. Richardson’s article, I dug a bit more into Mrs. Whitley’s life. She was born Bertha A. Valois in 1857. Her parents were of German and Swiss descent, according to the 1930 census. She married Eugene Whitley, three years her junior, on November 2, 1890 at the Park Church in Elmira. Rev. Thomas K. Beecher officiated. They did not appear to have had children. Mr. Whitley worked several different jobs. The city directories list him as a farmer, painter, gardener, and clerk over the course of about 30 years. Mrs. Whitley first appears in the 1893 directory as a milliner at 328 East Water Street. Around 1900, she moved her shop to 135 East Water Street where she remained for more than 25 years. The couple lived on West Water Street until 1910 when they moved to Maple Avenue. Around 1920, they moved into the house past Fitch’s Bridge where Mr. Richardson spoke with Mrs. Whitley.

The big question I could not find an answer to in my research was: when did the Whitleys acquire their goldfish? If the goldfish was born about 1889, one or the other of them could have had the fish before they got married. Was it Mr. Whitley or Mrs. Whitley who first brought the young fry home? While goldfish were very common as pets at that time, I can’t guess whether they appealed more to men or women. Either way, it seems the goldfish was with them their entire marriage.

Goldfish were first introduced to North America in the 1850s. The species of carp, originally from East Asia, quickly became popular as pets in the United States. Goldfish became so widespread by the mid-1900s, they were often given away as carnival game prizes. I always wanted to win a fish at our local carnival and I’m sure my parents were glad I never did.

A goldfish’s lifespan is greatly determined by its environment. A goldfish in a small bowl or container lives an average of 6 months to 5 years. A tank or aquarium, with good filtration and suitable food, can increase that to 10-15 years. The best environment for the little creatures is a natural pond where they can live for up to 20 years. For Mrs. Whitley’s goldfish to have lived 41 years is phenomenal, but not impossible. The Guinness Book of World Records lists the world’s oldest goldfish as Tish, owned by Hilda Hand of Thirsk, North Yorkshire, England. Tish was 43 years old when it died in 1999. Tom and Pauline Evans of Bradninch, Devon, England were owners of Goldie, a 45 year old goldfish who died in 2005. They, unfortunately, didn’t have the documentation needed to get into the record book.

Mrs. Whitley didn’t report doing anything special to keep her aquatic pet alive for so many years. She changed its water once a week and fed it fish food from Banfield’s. Now named Banfield-Baker, the seed and animal feed company was founded in 1880 by Frederick Jennings as Jennings Seed Company. It became Banfield-Jennings Corp. in 1920 and was located at 222 W. Water Street in Elmira. Mrs. Whitley would have gotten her fish food there until the end of her pet’s life. The business moved to Railroad Avenue in the 1940s and became Banfield-Baker in 1960. The Bakers had been involved in the company since 1935. In 1977, during Elmira’s urban renewal, the city acquire the company’s building, and it moved out of downtown to 2512 Corning Road. You can still shop at Banfield-Baker today, though I don’t know if they still sell fish food.

After her goldfish’s passing, Mrs. Whitley was left living all on her own in her tidy little house near the Bennett Crossing. Her husband had passed away just a year before their goldfish on October 7, 1938. She had retired from her millinery store downtown more than ten years earlier but still engaged in the business of false hair for women out of her home. In the summer, she also grew berries to sell, sometimes making up to $75 for a single crop. She passed away at home on June 13, 1940. She and her husband are interred in Woodlawn Cemetery in the mausoleum. There’s no record of the final resting place of her long-lived goldfish and I never learned its name.

Going up?

By Susan Zehnder, Education Director

Elevator call buttons from Gorton Coy building

In the late 1800s, one of the newest technological marvels started showing up in Elmira. Or to be more accurate, showing up and down, as the marvel in question was the passenger elevator. Elevator platforms lifted by a set of pulleys and cables, had around since Roman times. They were found to be useful when moving heavy objects. As buildings got taller, many were put to use but they were slow and dangerous. In Elmira, companies like the Elmira Stamping and Paper Manufacturing Company and the LaFrance Fire Engine Company relied on freight elevators to move equipment. They occasionally experienced mishaps or tragic accidents so the idea of using elevators to move people seemed unthinkable.

Attitudes changed with a simple demonstration at the first American World’s Fair in 1852. Raising a platform elevator before an anxious crowd at the Crystal Palace Exhibition, the lone passenger cut its retaining rope. Instead of crashing to the floor as expected, the platform held fast as its safety brake prevented it from falling. “All safe, gentlemen, all safe,” its passenger called out, and the crowd cheered. That man was Elisha Otis, and his company, Union Elevator and General Machine Works by Elisha Otis, went on to change its name to the Otis Elevator company, and is still in business today, over 170 years later.

Otis installed the first passenger elevator in the E. V. Haughwout department store in New York City. Although the building was only five stories high, the elevator’s novelty attracted crowds of curious people. Many of them admired the contraption’s noteworthy speed --one foot per second. Today the average elevator travels 5 to 10 feet per second. Inspired by its success and novelty, other businesses contracted to install their own elevators by retrofitting them into existing buildings.

The first mention of a passenger elevator in Elmira shows up in 1891 in the Star-Gazette newspaper. 
Unfortunately, it wasn’t for the best reason. The paper reported that late in the evening the elevator in the Robinson building got stuck for over an hour, and stranded the elevator operator. He was eventually freed by Mr. George Brooks, who worked in the building.

Other newspaper articles explained how elevators worked, what to expect when riding an elevator, and how to conduct oneself around others while riding an elevator. Unlike social expectations when men and women passed each other on the street, it was advised that while riding in an elevator men should keep their hats on to avoid catching colds.

Then there were reports of people coming down with a mysterious elevator sickness. Speculation was the motion of the elevator made some people feel ill.  

In 1897 the City Hall elevator made its first trip, and by the early 20^th century, many buildings around town had elevators, including the YMCA building, the Langwell and Rathbun hotels, and the Women’s Federation Building. 

By 1909, the city was soliciting bids to install a new elevator in City Hall.

While elevators became more common, accidents still happened and weren’t always as simple as just being stuck between floors. Reports of gruesome elevator accidents may have sold papers, but didn’t do much to reassure the public. 

Diagrams of how elevators worked were printed in the papers, and many buildings employed a dedicated elevator operator to assist passengers with opening and closing their heavy doors. It also became customary for operators to wear military-style uniforms to emphasize they were reliable and well-trained.

We can thank Alexander Miles, the father of young Grace, for one of the biggest improvements in elevator safety. When his daughter accidentally fell down an elevator shaft and survived, Miles, an African American inventor from Ohio, designed a device to prevent this kind of accident from happening again. Now when an elevator reached a floor, and only after it had stopped, the doors would automatically open and close. Not only was it a reassuring new safety feature, it saved businesses money by eliminating the need for operators. In 1919, the Second National Bank added Chemung County’s first automatic elevator.

Today the papers rarely publish reports of elevator accidents or elevators getting stuck. And no one wonders if they should leave their hat on or take it off.