The Wellsburg Fire of 1912

by Erin Doane, Curator

The locomotive sped down the tracks, casting up sparks as it passed. Usually, the tiny glowing embers cooled and blinked out as they drifted through the air and settled to the ground as harmless dust. On April 27, 1912, however, one of the sparks landed on the shed roof at Lockwood’s coal and lumber yard. It still retained enough heat to catch hold of the dry wood and a flame burst to life. The fire crept across the roof, growing stronger and brighter on a path that would lead to the destruction of much of downtown Wellsburg.

After the Wellsburg Fire of 1912

Charles J. Stringer saw the flicker of flames on Lockwood’s shed and sounded the alarm. Volunteer firefighters from throughout the village rushed to the scene. They reeled out their hoses and hooked them to the water supply. Throwing the valves open, they waited for the torrent of water to rush forth and beat back the flames. The weak flow that trickled through the hoses brought with it surprise and dread. Far up on the hill overlooking Wellsburg, a crew labored at cleaning the drained reservoir. No one could have known that the scheduled, periodic maintenance of the water supply would coincided with the greatest fire the village had ever seen. 

Fire at Wellsburg, N.Y., Apr. 27, 1912

As the firefighters struggled, wind blew over the blaze, lifting hot embers into the sky. The miniature firebrands floated across Main Street, down Front Street, and dropped onto the roof of an unoccupied blacksmith shop on Terrace Street that was owned by another member of the Stringer family.

Now split between two flaming fronts, the firefighters could not prevent the first fire from jumping to H.W. Young’s General Store just across the street from Lockwood’s yard. From there the blaze moved down the block to R.R. Welch’s ice cream and confectionery shop, to Robert’s general store, to H.O. Cole’s barber shop, to the Robert’s homestead, and even further to the Baldwin Hotel. The flames could not be stopped as they spread to more and more businesses and homes. Flying embers even set Mrs. Young’s barn ablaze on the hillside nearly a quarter of a mile away. By 4 o’clock in the afternoon, much of the village was a raging inferno.

The fire getting a nice start.

Just as hope was failing, help arrived. Another locomotive sped down the tracks; this time delivering salvation rather than destruction. It pulled a flat car upon which rode Elmira’s fire engine no. 4. Chief John Espey and his firefighters had arrived to reinforce Wellsburg’s exhausted crews. Together they were able to stop the blaze at the Exchange Hotel, keeping it from spreading into the mostly residential area of the village. By 7:00 p.m., they had beaten the flames into submission. 

All that was left of the Exchange Hotel after the fire of 1912

As the brave firefighters and volunteers struggled and sweated, hordes of spectators gathered to watch the dangerous show. They came by trolley, by wagon, and by automobile, clogging the streets to find entertainment in others’ heartbreak. Some read a special edition of the Elmira Star-Gazette that had been published that very afternoon describing the fire that still smoldered before them.

The fire drew this crowd.

Some of those arriving in Wellsburg late in the day were actually residents. Many of the local women had taken the opportunity that fine Saturday to ride the trolley up to Elmira to do some shopping. They returned to find their village ravaged by the extraordinary conflagration. Some even found themselves suddenly homeless.

General view of the fire at night Wellsburg, N.Y.

Twenty-three buildings were partially or completely destroyed by the fire including two hotels, three general stores, two feed mills, the carriage factory, the opera house, and five residences. By some miracle, though, not a single person was seriously hurt.

After the fire, Baldwin's Mill, Wellsburg, N.Y.

 

Elmira’s Fire Stations

by Erin Doane, Curator

The first volunteer fire company in Elmira was created in 1830. Over the next 30 years, half a dozen more companies were organized and each company established their own fire houses. In 1867, the city built a new, large fire station on Market Street. The station housed Torrent Fire Company No.1 and Fire Company No. 2, known as Neptune Company. When the city created a professional fire department in 1878, the station became its headquarters.

Elmira Volunteer Fire Station on Market Street, c. 1870s

In 1890, the station was torn down and a new central fire station was built on East Market Street opposite Exchange Place. The new building cost $33,000 to construct, or just under $1 million in today’s dollars. The station housed firefighters and their equipment, including steamers, hose wagons, a ladder truck, a chemical engine, and ten horses.

Central Fire Station, c. 1911

In 1964, the Fire Department’s headquarters was moved to a new building at 101 West Second Street. This was the city’s first new fire station built in 52 years.

Elmira Fire Headquarters, April 2019

Shortly after the Central Fire Station was built in 1890, more stations were established throughout the city. In 1892, Station No. 2 was built at the foot of College Avenue on West Water Street. The station closed in 1935 and the building now houses the Elmira Water Board.

Station No. 2, c. 1910

Station No. 3 was also built in 1892 at the western intersection of South Main Street and Pennsylvania Avenue.

Station No. 3, c. 1900

The station was torn down in 1979 when a new one was built on West Miller Street.

New Station No. 3, April 2019

Station No. 4 was built at Maxwell Place and Grand Central Avenue in 1897 on land given to the city by the Diven Family. It was designed by local architects Pierce and Bickford. The station closed in 1986 and in 2014, the building was added to the Preservation League of New York State’s Seven to Save Endangered Properties list.

Station No. 4, March 1897

In 1911, Station No. 5 was built on Roe Avenue. It is still being used today and is the oldest active fire station in Chemung County.

  

Station No. 5, 2017

The Elmira Advertiser Fire of 1888

by Erin Doane, curator

Recently, I came across a box of metal type letters in the museum’s collection. A note on the box read: Type salvaged from the Advertiser fire of 1888. That made me think, “What was the Advertiser fire of 1888?”

Box of newspaper type letters

On the night of February 15, 1888, fire broke out in the basement of the Elmira Advertiser building on the corner of Lake and Market Streets. The resulting conflagration was the worst seen in Elmira in 15 years. The newspaper’s headquarters were destroyed as were several other neighboring buildings. The fire did nearly half a million dollars of property damage and two men lost their lives.

The Advertiser was first issued on November 3, 1853. At that time it was called the Fairman’s Daily Advertiser and served as a marketing vehicle for the printing business of Seymour and Charles Fairman. It was distributed free to farms along Water Street in Elmira. By 1855, the Elmira Daily Advertiser, as it was then named, was available by subscription for $1 a year.

February 26, 1855 issue of the Elmira Advertiser

By the late 1870s the Advertiser had moved into the building at the corner of Lake and Market Streets. Previously, the location had been the site of hotels operated by Silas Haight. Haight came to Elmira in 1836 and worked in the mercantile business. In 1839, he became landlord of the Mansion House on Lake Street. He enlarged the hotel in 1849 and it burned down a year later. Haight built a brick building on the site and named it Haight’s Hotel. In 1851, President Millard Fillmore and Secretary of State Daniel Webster were entertained there when their train stopped in Elmira overnight. That hotel ended up burning as well. Haight rebuilt again and called the new building the Hathaway House. The building changed hands around 1860 and continued to operate as a hotel through the decade. The Advertiser moved into the building around 1875.

Hathaway House menu, 1874

The fire at the Elmira Advertiser began around 7:30pm on February 15, 1888 in the jobbing room in the basement where the papers were printed. The building became engulfed in flames and the editorial staff had to escape by ladders out the windows. Winfield T. Foster, foreman of composing room, was badly burned as he fled the building. A schoolroom on the third floor of the building served as the theory department of N.A. Miller’s School of Commerce. Five students were doing some work there that evening when the fire began. Four of the students got to safety by dropping from a window onto a roof below but the fifth was not so fortunate. William F. Naylor tried to get to the stairs but died of suffocation and burning.

The fire quickly spread down the block. The building that housed the offices of the Sunday Tidings, the shop of a milliner named Mrs. Anderson, and several other offices caught fire. The flames continued to spread southward to F.A. Keeton’s retail grocery, which was one of the largest in the city, to Mr. Suess’ barber shop, and J.M. Robinson & Son’s furniture factory. D.A. Morgan’s liquor store and saloon, Kraum’s boarding house, Brown & Co. tobacco store, Dr. J.M. Hill’s drug store, and the law offices of E.P. Hart and Judge Thurston also caught fire. It is estimated that the blaze damaged or destroyed nearly $500,000 of property (over $10 million today).

Owego Daily Record, February 16, 1888

The Elmira fire department’s efforts to fight the blaze were hampered by the extreme cold and the fact that two of their engines were disabled at the time. Just after 10:00 pm, the Lake Street wall of the four-story Advertiser building collapsed. It struck Charles Bentley of Truck Company No. 1 and James Fisher, superintendent of the United Illuminating Company. Bentley died from his injuries. By 11:00pm, companies from Horseheads, Waverly, Owego, and Hornellsville were on the scene to help beat back the flames.

Advertiser building the morning after

Elmira reserve police were called in the night of the fire to stop looters.

The next day, with help from the Gazette and the Telegram, the Advertiser was able to produce and distribute its issue for February 16, 1888. The Advertiser was in a new home by June of 1889 and continued publishing until 1963.

A Tragic History of Tiny Stoves

by Erin Doane, curator

Children love to pretend to cook. That’s not surprising as food is such a huge part of our lives. I remember making mud “pies,” milk weed pod “pickles,” and “pizza” out of a piece of wood covered in sawdust “cheese” (I grew up at a lumber mill). Some of my luckier friends actually had Easy-Bake Ovens so they could really bake. Kitchen toys have been around for longer than some of us may imagine. In the 19^th century, girls played with toy stoves to help them learn their duties as a housewife.

Miniature cast iron stove, late 19th-early 20th century

Miniature cast iron stoves, which very closely resembled the real thing, were very popular by the 1890s. No child’s playroom was complete without a real little kitchen including a toy stove. Some were just toys that children could pretend to cook on while others were functional. In 1892, the Marshal Field & Co. catalog had a listing for a toy stove that could actually be used for cooking. Small hot coals could be put inside to heat it up. The miniature stove pictured below from the museum’s collection has some sooty residue inside which means it was probably used like that at one time or another.

Miniature cast iron stove, late 19th-early 20th century

You might think that giving a child a working stove may be a bad idea and you would be correct. My research into toy stoves took a dark turn when I found a story in the April 23, 1890 Rome Daily Sentinel reporting on how some children in Utica tipped over a toy stove and set their 2-story frame house ablaze. That made me wonder if it was common for children’s toy stoves to set things on fire. Unfortunately, it appears that it was.

I did not find any stories of accidental toy stove fires in Chemung County but there were many more from around the state and region. In 1897 in New Brunswick, New Jersey, a 2-year-old left alone at home was playing with matches and a toy stove. She set her clothes on fire and burned to death. In 1909, a 6-year-old in St. Louis, Missouri lit a fire in her toy stove with coal oil. The stove exploded, setting her dress on fire. Both her mother and father were injured trying to extinguish the flames and the child died of her burns. There were two reported cases of toy stove fires in New York just days apart in 1915. A 2-month-old burned to death in her a crib after her 3-year-old sister started a fire with her toy stove. Another 5-year-old girl, Edna May Frost, died when she tried to heat up some milk on her toy stove to feed her new baby doll. You can read all the sad, terrible details of both incidents in the article below.

Article from the New York Herald, June 12, 1915

These kinds of accidents kept appearing in newspapers through the 1920s. In 1921, three little girls are playing with a new toy stove and iron they had just received for Christmas. The youngest, 3-year-old Lillian, tried to put some paper into the stove and her cloths caught on fire. Marion, who was 5 years old, and Gertrude, 7, tried to put out the flames but also caught fire. An older sister came to their rescue but Lillian died from her burns. An opinion article that appeared in the Watertown Daily Times in 1923 called for the manufacture and sale of toys stoves to be prohibited because of all these fires. The writer argued that children naturally wanted to emulate the adults around them. They would find ways to start fires in their stoves as they saw their mothers do in their real kitchens no matter how careful the parents were. A ban on the toys could be the only solution.

The instances of fires and deaths caused by toy stoves decrease through early 20^th century. That could have been because of some sort of crackdown on the sales of the toys. It could have also been because of the introduction of electric toy stoves around 1915. Girls no longer needed fire to heat their stoves. They simply plugged them in and the tiny ovens and range tops would come up to temperature. By the late 1930s, parents were adding electrical outlets to their children’s play rooms so they could plug in their new toy stoves.

Electric toy stove, early-mid-20th century

Electric toy stove, mid-20th century