A Case of Measles

By Rachel Dworkin, Archivist

 

Earlier in the year, I had a researcher who came every Friday for a month to look at our collection of reports of the Elmira Board of Health. I asked her what she was looking for. She explained that she was an ER nurse and was looking at historical records to see what the hospital might be in for if people stopped vaccinating their kids. “It’s going to be bad,” she said, looking over her notes. “It’s going to be really bad.”

At present, the State of New York requires that all students be vaccinated against measles, mumps, rubella, diphtheria, tetanus, pertussis, polio, hepatitis B, and chickenpox in order to attend public schools (unless they have a medical exception). Additionally, students in grades 7 through 12 are required to have the meningococcal disease vaccine while kids in day care or pre-k must have haemophilus influenzae type b and pneumococcal conjugate vaccines. Any one of these diseases can cause lasting debilitation or even death. Since the measles are in the news again after a series of deadly outbreaks, I’m going to focus on that one.

Measles is a highly-contagious disease which is spread through coughing, sneezing, etc. Symptoms include a high fever, cough, runny nose, inflamed eyes, white spots in the mouth called Koplik spots, and a red rash which spreads from face to feet. The symptoms appear within 10 to 12 days after exposure and usually last about a week. Common complications include diarrhea, ear infection, and pneumonia, but some unlucky sufferers can get inflammation of the brain resulting in seizures, blindness, and lasting brain damage. The virus causes patients’ immune systems to reset, making them susceptible to other illnesses, even ones they’ve already had, for several years after. Approximately 2.5 of every 1,000 modern cases results in death.

Looking at the historical record, measles was consistently the most common communicable illness in Chemung County. The exact numbers fluctuated from year to year. In 1925, there were just 49 reported cases in the City of Elmira. In 1949, there were 2,395 cases resulting in 2 deaths. In the days before antibiotics, patients were more likely to die of complications, especially pneumonia. In October 1869, an outbreak of measles at the Southern Tier Orphan’s Home resulted in 14 cases. Two children died. In an interview with the newspaper, the home’s matron said, “It is a comfort to think that these little ones, whose early life had been so darkly shadowed, are now safely gathered in a permanent Home, where sickness never enters, where want and orphanage are unknown, and where they may enjoy all the privileges of heirship in that beautiful land on equal footing with the children of wealth and nobility.” 

 

Elmira Board of Health, Annual Report, 1949

When cases were reported to the local Board of Health, officials would placard and quarantine the homes of patients in hopes of stopping the spread. In June 1897, there was a bit of a mystery surrounding the removal of a health placard placed at the multi-family home at 604 East Water Street. Mrs. Martha Tuttle, originally of North Chemung, was renting rooms there so her 15-year-old son might attend Elmira Free Academy. When he contracted measles, the home was placarded and quarantined. Mrs. Tuttle took her son home to North Chemung to recover and someone at the house removed the sign so the other residents could go back to school and work. The removal of a health placard without the approval of the health department was technically a crime, but no one was ever charged. While it was rare for people to just remove signs, it was apparently not uncommon for people to not report cases so as to avoid being placarded in the first place.

Elmira Gazette, June 30, 1897

The measles vaccine was first approved for use in the United States in 1963. There were subsequent improvements to the vaccine in 1968. A few years later in 1971, it was combined with vaccines for mumps and rubella to form the MMR vaccine. Children must receive two doses to be fully immunized. Thanks to the vaccine, measles was declared eliminated in the United States in 2000, but, since then, it has made a resurgence thanks to vaccine hesitancy among certain groups. According to the CDC, as of May 22, there were 1,046 confirmed cases of measles in 2025 across 31 states. 96% of those patients were unvaccinated, 12% required hospitalization, and three have died.

Knowledge of the past is essential for understanding the present. It’s also important for predicting possible future outcomes of our decisions. Most American’s Gen X and younger have never had measles, let alone known someone who died from it. And yet, a quick look at the historical record proves my researcher is right. Stopping vaccination will result in more infections and more death. The good news is, by arming ourselves with that knowledge, we still have time to make better choices.  

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.   

 

 

The Victrola

 by Phoenix Andrews, Curator Assistant

A few weeks ago while looking  through some off site collections I came across a beautiful standing phonograph. With seemingly no visible accession number (that would allow me to look it up in our database) and a hope that we could put it on display, it was brought back with us to the museum. With it back in our main facility, it was time to do some research.

Starting off, this seemed like it would overall be a simple project. Having more time to look it over, I was able to discover that it still had the data plate containing its model and serial number, as well as its lid decal and patent sticker. I was swimming in information. The phonograph was made by The Victor Talking Company, It was a Victrola the Sixteenth or also known as VV-XVI. I was lucky in this aspect, there is a wealth of information out there about Victor phonographs. With it, I was able to figure out that our specific model was the fifth iteration in its design and was manufactured in 1910. This is however where my luck started to run out.

I noticed that none of the other phonographs I was finding pictures of had a piece that ours did. It seemed ours had a second tonearm that was quite different from the original.

After ruling out what I could about the second tonearm's origins, I decided I was going to need some outsider help identifying this tonearm. After asking for some help from a few knowledgeable sources, someone had an answer. They were able to identify it as a Vitaphone arm and sent me to a source to learn more about the company, if only I knew then just how much digging I was going to have to do to find more information.

As if sensing that the Vitaphone rabbit hole was inevitable, I switched sources for a bit. I was able to confirm in my original research that the original machine was fully intact; nothing had been removed for the modifications or broken over the years. Knowing that, I went through and oiled what was needed and wound the crank. It worked! I tested it on a few of the records that were housed inside of it and they played beautifully. It was also then that I realized that there was an accession number on it, just hidden away inside the machine. I went back to the database to see if it held any more information on the phonograph. While it did not tell me anymore about the phonograph itself, I was able to find out that it had been donated by Talitha Botsford (who, if you are unfamiliar with, you can read about here)!

 Having taken a step back, I was ready to return to my research into Vitaphones with newfound vigor. Now before I even get into my research into Vitaphones I want to make something very clear. This is not about the Vitaphone Company that is associated with sound film systems and Warner Bros., that is a completely separate entity that is much more well known and existed after the Vitaphone Company I will be discussing.

Clinton B. Repp was the creator of the Vitaphone. His idea was to make a new, distinctive sounds using his patented Wooden Arm and Stationary Sound Box. He believed it produced a softer, less metallic sound. Then, in 1912, the Vitaphone Company was in business. Manufacturing was done at a plant in Plainfield, New Jersey. A subsidiary of the Vitaphone Company also opened the next year in Toronto, Canada.

This is where my leads run dry for the most part. I was able to find some other minor information out there and some images of a few different models. Overall, it does not seem like this company has lasted in people's minds the way other phonograph companies have. However, if you know how to restore Vitaphone arms or know somebody who has worked with them in the past, I am still hoping that the Vitaphone tonearm can be used as well. Please reach out with any regarding restoration to cchs@chemungvalleymuseum.org.

 

 

Elmira Rolling Mills

By Rachel Dworkin, archivist

There’s something neat about shows like How It’s Made. If you, like me, have never worked in manufacturing, industrial processes can feel like something of a mystery. Over the years, Elmirans have made everything from aluminum cans to woolen cloth. From 1861 to 1883, the Elmira Rolling Mill Co. made iron.

The Elmira Rolling Mill Co. was founded in 1860. On May 16, 1861, the plant, located on Hatch Street between East 5^th and East Washington Streets, began operation. The original structure was 180’ by 80’ and had five furnaces and three steam engines. The plant grew substantially during the 1860s with the addition of two new buildings. By 1865, the mill consisted of three buildings housing the original rolling mill, plus two pudding mills, and a merchant bar mill. The equipment included 24 furnaces, 8 steam engines, 5 trains of rolls, two roll lathes, and one Burden squeezer. The company was using all this equipment to manufacture 22,000 tons of iron each year.

Here’s how it all worked.

Step 1 – Arrival of Raw Materials

In order to make their iron, the Elmira Rolling Mills needed massive amounts of raw iron and coal. These materials arrived at the plant on canal boats and on the dedicated rail spurs which ran to the factory. 

Canal boats unloading in front of Elmira Rolling Mills, ca. 1870

 Step 2 – Heating the Materials

The raw iron needed to be heated in order to burn off any impurities and to make it malleable. It was usually heated to somewhere above 462 degrees Fahrenheit. This is iron’s recrystallization temperature, or the point at which the iron’s previous crystalline structure is broken down and reformed anew but not yet melted.

At the Elmira Rolling Mills, this was done in coal-fired pudding furnaces. Pudding is the process of converting raw iron into usable wrought iron by heating it in a special furnace where the metal and the fuel were not in direct contact. The process was first developed in England in the 1780s. I have no idea why it’s called pudding. Heated iron can absorb chemical impurities given off by the burning fuel. Coal, for example, gives off sulfur which can make the metal brittle. By using a pudding mill, the Elmira Rolling Mills could heat their iron using coal without having to worry about introducing sulfur to their iron.

Diagram of a pudding furnace

 Step 3 – Squeezing

Once the iron was removed from the pudding furnace, it needed to be forced into a useable shape. Traditionally, this was done by teams of strong men with big hammers. In 1840, Henry Burden of Troy, New York, invented his rotary concentric squeezer which performed the same task with a lot less time and effort. The Elmira Rolling Mills had a Burden squeezer they used to force their heated iron into shape.

Step 4 – Rolling

Rolling is a metalworking process where heated metal stock is forced through one or more pairs of rollers to reduce thickness or give it a more uniform shape. A series of multiple rollers is known as a train. The first roll produces a plate of metal. A slitting, latte, or bar roller is used to slice the metal up into bars of various widths, shapes, and thicknesses. 

 The Elmira Rolling Mills had five trains of rolls which could produce square bars, round bars, oval bars, half-round bars, and half-oval bars in various thicknesses.  The company used coal-fired steam engines to power their rollers. 

Step 5 – Sale

Initially, the Elmira Rolling Mill’s main clients were railroads for whom they made rails. In 1863, the company added a merchant bar mill so they could offer iron bars in more shapes and sizes to a wide variety of clients.

 

At its peak, the Elmira Rolling Mills employed around 400 people and was one of the city’s largest employers. By the 1880s, the railroad industry had switched to using steel for their rails. The company was not equipped for steel manufacturing and found it could not keep up with the manufacturing centers of Harrisburg and Pittsburgh. In 1883, the workers went on strike for higher wages. In response, the company permanently shut their doors. Although iron is no longer made in Elmira, the process used at the Elmira Rolling Mills is largely still used today, abet with different power sources.

Cleaning Up Cleaners

by Monica Groth, curator

Brownfields are defined by the EPA as areas “complicated by the presence or potential presence of a hazardous substance, pollutant, or contaminant.” The term was coined in 1978 as part of a growing government effort to identify and remediate highly polluted property. Pollution, often the result of industrial development, can linger in soil and groundwater decades after businesses close and properties change hands. Dangerous contaminants can affect the health of future residents.

Because of Elmira’s long history of supporting heavy industry, the county is home to many brownfields. Some, identified by New York State on the map below, are well-known. They include factory sites like Kennedy Valve and Westinghouse Co. as well as old oil fields and landfills. One of the most famous brownfield sites in the county is Elmira High School, on the city’s Southside, where the former Sperry/Remington Rand factory once sat. Most recently, efforts to remove contamination from the Old Elmira Gasworks has been ongoing on East Water Street.

Map of Chemung County brownfields being remediated under
New York State’s Department of Environmental Conservation

However, in looking at this map, we were interested to discover that a large number of sites containing hazardous wastes fell into another category entirely. Seven are dry cleaners.

Before individual homes had machines, industrial laundries and dry cleaners handled community laundry at large facilities like Perfect Laundry, pictured below.

Workers wash clothes at Perfect Laundry in Elmira, c. 1920s

The process of “dry” cleaning utilized petro-chemical based solvents to remove stains without the use of water. Dry cleaning advertisements begin to appear in the Elmira Gazette & Free Press in 1896. In the 19th century, dry cleaners washed clothes in open vats filled with gasoline, kerosene, or turpentine. However, such chemicals are highly flammable. By the 1900s, especially as machines began to be used in the dry cleaning business, less-flammable chemicals were experimented with as cleaners.

Ledger Book from Ruddick's Dry Cleaning, Elmira, c. 1915

By the 1940s, tetrachloroethylene, also known as perchloroethylene - or “perc” for short - was the most popular solvent. An estimated 1 million metric tons of perc was produced worldwide in 1985.

Ad for C & K dry cleaning, 1953

C & K Laundry and Dry Cleaning in the old Robinson building, c. 1970

Perc has been listed by the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health (NIOSH) as a “potential occupational carcinogen.” The process of legally listing substances as carcinogenic, or cancer-causing, is complicated and requires long-term studies and tested scientific data. Different agencies with different interests assess carcinogenicity differently. The National Toxicology Program deemed perc “reasonably anticipated to be a human carcinogen.” The International Agency for Research on Cancer (IARC) designated perc as a “probable human carcinogen.” The EPA assessed perc to “likely be carcinogenic to humans” and updated its assessment of the chemical in 2022 by determining it “presents unreasonable risk to human health.” Today, perc dip tanks and transfer equipment is prohibited at dry cleaning facilities, and no perc is allowed to be used in residential buildings. However, the chemical is still legal and pollution from previous decades lingers in soil and water long after businesses close or regulations change.

Sites listed on the above map are undergoing remediation so they can be cleaned and available for future development. In a 2008 survey in the Star-Gazette, 67% of the surveyed thought safely remediating brownfields would help economic growth in the area. In 2017, there were 8 sites in Chemung County listed by the DEC as “Class 2” meaning they posed a “present foreseeable, significant threat” to the environment. Two Elmira dry cleaners were classified as Class 2 sites. The site of the former Diamond Cleaners, which was occupied by multiple dry cleaner businesses from 1950 to 2001, was remediated in the early 2000s by the removal of 600 tons of perc-contaminated soil. A plume of perc-contaminated water was identified heading toward the Chemung River from Castle Cleaners around 2017, and $2.1 million was proposed to treat it.

Invoice from Diamond Cleaners, 1994

The Duck that Laid the Golden Cure

by Monica Groth, Curator

An Illustration Satirizing Medical "Quackery" in the March 1867
edition of The Herald of Health medical journal .

The medical world of the 19th century was chaotic. Physicians were only beginning to understand that bacteria and viruses caused disease, and different doctors had different ideas about what constituted a wonder drug and how much of it was a poisonous dose. As a patient of the 19^th century you might be treated with calomel (which contained toxic mercury), cocaine injections (used to treat afflictions from eye ailments to in-grown toenails), or heaping tablespoons of the herb “Indian tobacco” (popularized by Samuel Thomson, who later faced murder charges due to the results it had on his patients). If you were interested in the reform-minded “Eclectic” medical movement, to which Elmira’s Drs. Rachel and Silas Gleason belonged, you might try various botanical and natural cures as well as novel electrotherapy treatments (using electricity to treat the body). The Gleasons primarily promoted clean air, exercise, and water treatments (which chiefly meant putting patients in baths of varying temperatures and salinities) at their Water Cure on Elmira’s East Hill (check out some objects from the Water Cure on display at the Museum now).

The 19th century was also the century of quack remedies – cures hawked by peddlers in get-rich-quick schemes. The popularity of such remedies coincided with a growing resolution among the lower and middle classes to shun the elitist medical establishment and be one’s own doctor in a democratic America. Numerous patent “formulas”, “syrups”, and “tinctures” contained dangerous herbs or metals dissolved in hefty quantities of alcohol or morphine. In 1868, The Herald of Health, a New York medical journal warned, “The quacks are generally a wide awake business set of fellows… If there is one species of dishonesty that is more wicked than any other, it is the attempt to thus play with those who are sick.”

One little-known and interesting treatment patented and publicized after the Civil War was Dr. Keeley’s “Gold Cure”. Dr. Leslie E. Keeley was an Army Surgeon who’d witnessed fellow soldiers become dependent upon alcohol. Against the backdrop of temperance movements across the country, questions swirled around what could be done to effectively “cure the inebriate”. A Herald of Health essay by J.B. Fuller Walker, director of the Cleveland Ohio “inebriate asylum”, attempted the use of Turkish baths and Swedish vibratory treatments, but admitted the difficulty in treating those who suffered from alcoholism and addiction. At the time, people were inclined to consider alcoholism a moral failing – not a treatable disease.  As put by the Elmira-published medical journal The Bistoury in 1877, “The moral aspect of intemperance is abundantly preached, while the medical bearing of the vice is seldom broached.”

Keeley broached the topic, and his treatment was soon to reach The Bistoury’s city. He famously announced that alcoholism could be treated, along with other addictions – by medicinal gold. After early experiments (of dubious success) conducted with temperance lecturer Frederick Hargreaves, Keely marketed his cure and established a “Gold Cure” institution in Dwight, Illinois where patients could come for treatment. While the chemical compound bichloride of gold was reportedly the key to the treatment, it was mixed with “mystery” ingredients to make a tonic, a teaspoon of which was taken by the patient 4 times a day. The “mystery” cure was then a closely guarded secret, but is now believed to have contained the toxic alkaloids strychnine and atropine, along with willow-bark, ammonia, and coca. In 1886, Keeley introduced the injectable version of his cure which, according to scholar April White, “left a reassuring golden stain on the upper arm” [1]. Patients lined up in “the shooting gallery” at the cure to be injected with a custom cocktail of blue, white, and red liquids.

Opinions on whether Keeley’s cure was genius or sheer quackery diverged. Some “graduates” of the cure swore to its efficacy, while others denounced it. Some thought laws should be established making the cure compulsory and government-funded. Keeley’s treatment spread rapidly, eventually leading to the establishment of over 100 affiliated “gold cures” across the country. Gold Cures directly affiliated with Keeley's Dwight Institute were established across New York State in Westfield, Binghamton, Geneseo, Babylon, and White Plains (this last establishment being infiltrated and investigated by the famous journalist Nellie Bly). Many more “imitators” opened their own cures inspired by Keeley’s treatment. Throughout the last decade of the 19^th century, the Elmira Star-Gazette announced the opening of independent gold cures in Corning, Seneca Falls, Bemus Point, Wellsville, and in New Athens and Blossburg, Pennsylvania. The administration of a course of the Keeley treatment at the Soldier’s Home in Bath in 1894 was also publicized in the paper. It wasn't long before the gold cure arrived in Chemung County. 

The Elmira city coroner Dr. J. A. Westlake and associate Dr. Frank A. Flood established a branch of the Monroe Improved Gold Cure of “the system...in vogue at Bemus Point, Chautauqua Lake” at Coroner Westlake’s Sanitarium on Lake Street in 1892. There, the gold cure was offered amongst other treatments until it was discontinued a year later “owning to the objections raised by ladies” who appear to have disapproved of the patients attracted to the cure.

But shortly thereafter, in 1894, a new gold cure arrived in Elmira. It was known as the Telfair Sanitarium after its parent institution - established by Dr. William Telfair in Rochester, NY. Dr. Telfair had sent a representative, a Mr. Jackson, to Elmira, and Jackson’s efforts and people’s interest soon led to the opening of Elmira’s own branch of the cure at 52 S. Main Street. Operated by Dr. Nathaniel Love and managed by the aforementioned Jackson, the cure appears to have been a success. One 1894 advert in the Star Gazette announces, “The success of the Telfair Sanitarium in Elmira is phenomenal. Why? Because they are making happy homes by their successful cures of those addicted to liquor.” The patients reportedly left the Sanitarium “changed individuals” and an 1895 article highlighting Dr. Love’s work deemed it “unequalled”.  

Advertisement for The Elmira Sanitarium Gold Cure in the Star-Gazette, Feb. 4, 1896

However, in 1895, Dr. Telfair announced he was breaking with the Elmira branch. As often happened in the world of treatment schemes, disciples became hated “imitators” when they became rivals and quickly lost favor with their early colleagues (just as Telfair had deemed himself superior to Keeley years before). The Telfair Sanitarium of Elmira however, despite losing its connection to Rochester, continued to promote its gold treatments, renaming itself the Elmira Sanitarium Gold Cure and advertising its services through the last years of the 19^th century.

The gold cure could be dangerous, and death announcements in the Star-Gazette attest that patients hoping to be cured often perished under treatment. One Elmiran succumbed at a Corning Gold Cure in 1893. Whether this was due to the gold injections, his poor health upon arrival, or both, is impossible to say. At least two other deaths were reported that year to have taken place at the gold cure in Blossburg, Pennsylvania.

Though Keeley’s tonics and injections weren’t medically sound, his institutes left an enduring legacy. Patients at the cures socialized and talked with each other about their habits and resolutions and after completing the cure the so-called “graduates” formed clubs to hold each other accountable and seek sobriety together. An Elmira branch of the Gold Cure Club was founded in 1896 and raised money to send those who wanted to take the cure to the Sanitarium. Many credit these organizations as forerunners of discussion based programs continued by Alcoholics Anonymous today.

[1] White, April. Inside a Nineteenth-Century Quest to End Addiction. JStorDaily 2016. https://daily.jstor.org/