Forgotten Tales of Pennsylvania (14 page)

In March 1887, the Clarion County Jail released Sam Schnell after he served a six-month sentence for various crimes. He returned to Turkey City and celebrated with his fellow ruffians, including several members of the McCleary family. The group became extremely intoxicated and decided to settle some old scores. They staggered off to the local Methodist church. The Reverend J.H. Laverty was hosting a revival meeting, and he was in the middle of the service when the gang forced its way in and caused a disturbance. D.H. McLaughlin, one of the trustees of the church and a critic of the McClearys, got up and attempted to force the men out. They responded by knocking him to the ground and repeatedly kicking and beating him. The rest of the congregation fled out the windows.

When McLaughlin was almost unconscious, the gang proceeded to smash the pews and windows. Then it went outside and destroyed a carriage parked nearby. When McLaughlin recovered, he went to the police, and arrest warrants were issued for the gang. The only member of the gang who was caught right away was a man named Lincoln Giger. The McClearys escaped to wreak havoc another day.

A P
IG
-S
TEALING
B
EAR

The
St. Louis Globe-Democrat
ran a story in 1886 about a pig-stealing bear in Clinton Township, Pennsylvania. Unfortunately, it failed to mention which Clinton Township. The story is interesting nonetheless. Hiram Cole and his helper, Silas Olmstead, were clearing and burning brush on Cole's farm one day when Cole's twelve-year-old son came running over excitedly. He told them that a bear had broken into the pig pen and was leaving with one of the young pigs. The men ran quickly to the yard, but they saw no pigs there. They did, however, hear squeals and noises coming from the orchard. When they reached the orchard, the men saw that the sow and her litter were chasing after the bear squealing. One of the young pigs was still clutched in its mouth.

The men grabbed some clubs and a wooden fence rail and pursued the bear. In the meantime, it had climbed another fence, so the sow and the other young pigs could no longer follow it. The farmer and his helper ran a little ahead of the fleeing bear. The men then stuck the rail in front of its legs and tripped it. The bear tumbled to the ground and struggled to get up while holding the now dead pig in its mouth. Cole and Olmstead then proceeded to trip the bear several more times. It became enraged, but the men continued to knock it down every few steps. When it charged them, the men were quick enough to move the rail and trip it again. Cole finally thrust a knife into its throat after it fell the final time. The men backed up quickly, and the bear stumbled around and roared. Cole had struck an artery, and the bear was dead in a few minutes. Cole paid Olmstead an extra twenty dollars for battling the bear with him. The bear's skin was made into a sleigh robe for Cole's daughter.

T
HE
P
HANTOM
B
OATMAN

In 1784, a story spread that a ghostly boatman was seen traveling at midnight on the Schuylkill River. The living skeleton was supposedly sighted near Fairmont Ferry. The story spread quickly, but it turned out to have been entirely fabricated. A young couple had decided to play a practical joke on their neighbors.

T
HE
C
OLLAPSE OF THE
A
USTIN
D
AM

The fifty-foot-high Austin Dam was constructed in the Freeman Run Valley in Potter County in 1910. It was built to provide water for the Bayless Pulp and Paper Mill, which had been constructed in the valley in 1900. The mill had begun to suffer water shortages because of seasonal conditions, so a dam was necessary to maintain the supply. George Bayless hired civil engineer T. Chalkey Hatton to assist with the construction. When it came time to figure out expenses, Bayless often ignored the recommendations of Hatton and opted for cheaper methods of construction. The results would be tragic.

By January 1910, the dam was severely bulging because of an early thaw. The concrete had cracked, and dynamite had to be used to blast away part of the dam because no overflow had been installed. Needless to say, the situation made both the workers in the mill and the people in the town of Austin uneasy.

On September 30 of the following year, tragedy struck. It was Saturday, and the town was full of shoppers and people attending political events for the upcoming elections. Some people heard the cracking and tried to alert the town. The dam finally gave way, sending water and huge pieces of debris crashing through the valley. A cattle fence was pushed along with the water, ensnaring helpless victims. Many were crushed by huge pieces of stone and trees. One woman, whose leg was crushed under a boulder, pleaded with the men nearby to cut off her leg to save her. Eventually, a Polish immigrant took an axe and freed her, carrying her to the hospital. Houses were torn to pieces. Some witnesses described the initial wall of water as being fifty feet high.

When it was over, seventy-eight people were dead. Hundreds of others were injured. The paper mill and much of the town was destroyed. At the time, the losses were estimated at $10 million. The state did not deliver any disaster assistance. Relief work was carried out entirely by volunteers. The paper mill was eventually rebuilt with a new dam. The mill burned to the ground in 1933. The second dam collapsed in 1942, causing much less destruction than the first.

T
HE
F
ATE OF
Le Griffon

The French explorer La Salle charted much of the interior of the United States during the late 1600s. He constructed his boat,
Le Griffon
, in the winter of 1678–79 so that he could explore the Great Lakes. La Salle used the boat to travel from Niagara River to Lake Michigan, making stops along the way. Later that year, when La Salle was not onboard, the ship was said to be lost in a storm on Lake Huron. La Salle suspected that some of his men had scuttled the ship and made off with his trading goods. There was no conclusive evidence as to what happened to the ship. It is called the holy grail of Great Lakes shipwrecks.

At least a handful of people in northwestern Pennsylvania believed that they knew the location of the legendary vessel. In the swamps near Pymatuning, a story was passed down about
Le Griffon
until the 1930s. A few residents claimed that the remains of a very old ship could be found hidden in the swamps. Though the wood was rotting, it supposedly had some brass ornamentation. The people who recounted the tale believed that the old boat was in fact La Salle's missing ship.

By the time a serious investigation could occur, the remains could no longer be located. It was unlikely that
Le Griffon
ended up in the swamp, even if it had been stolen. The actual boat may have been discovered recently in Lake Michigan, but this has yet to be confirmed.

T
HE
S
IREN OF
L
OYALSOCK
C
REEK

Sometime during the mid-1800s, an Indian woman was supposedly murdered by a raftsman on Loyalsock Creek in Lycoming County. Her name was said to be Cicely Powderhorn, and she was of Mingo descent. Every evening, Cicely met her lover, William, on the large rocks near the creek. While she waited, she would sing beautiful songs that were said to make even the forest become quiet. She would watch raftsmen float past with their goods. They all enjoyed her singing, except one. One day, William was late, and an envious raftsman lodged his raft near the rock and approached her. He attempted to force himself on her, but she fought back. The enraged raftsman grabbed her around the throat and choked her to death.

William was approaching the rock on a raft and was forced to witness the horrible event from a distance. He rowed as fast as he could, but by the time he reached the rock, the raftsman was already headed downstream. The law did not help the Powderhorn family because they were Indians, and the killer was not brought to justice.

Not long after the murder, nearby farmers testified that they could still hear Cicely singing near the creek. Of course, she wasn't actually there. That particular stretch of the creek was treacherous and usually required the full concentration of the raftsmen to navigate. Soon, many of them began to hear the song of Cicely as they traveled past the rock on which she was killed. It mesmerized them, causing many to wreck their rafts on the rocks. The haunting song was heard for several years, until a half-crazed man visited a farmer who lived near the creek. The man asked repeatedly about the Powderhorn family and eventually admitted to killing Cicely. He wanted to know why the family had been tormenting him by singing every time he passed the rock. The farmer, who had been a friend of Cicely, acted as if he didn't care. The man left, and the farmer told the next group of raftsmen who came through that he had identified the killer. After hearing the description, the other raftsmen set out for revenge. They managed to capsize the killer's raft in the rapids not long after. The killer was crushed against the rocks and drowned. The raftsmen buried him in an unmarked grave. As they did, they heard the song of Cicely one final time.

T
HE
F
IRST
F
ERRIS
W
HEEL

The very first Ferris wheel was designed by a bridge builder and engineer from Pittsburgh named George Washington Gale Ferris Jr. Ferris was running his own business, G.W.G. Ferris & Co., which inspected and tested structural steel for the state's numerous bridges and railroads, when he came up with the idea to build the wheel. The first wheel was constructed for the Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893, and it instantly became a hit. It stood 250 feet tall and could hold 2,160 people. Passengers paid fifty cents each to ride the wheel through two revolutions. The idea was quickly copied and spread around the world.

J
OHANNES
K
ELPIUS AND THE
H
ERMITS OF
W
ISSAHICKON

Johannes Kelpius was a German Pietist immigrant who came to Pennsylvania because of its policies of religious toleration. He was born to German parents in Transylvania in 1673 and acquired a master's degree in theology at a German university by the age of sixteen. Kelpius was also very interested in math, astronomy, botany, music and the occult. He became a mystic and intently studied the Bible, especially the Book of Revelation. In the 1690s, Kelpius and some like-minded followers came to Philadelphia so that they could continue to develop their ideas in peace. Kelpius became convinced that the world would end in 1694.

The mystic and his followers lived lives of celibacy and prayer in the hillsides along Wissahickon Creek. Many lived in caves or simple houses, writing books and music and producing medicines with their botanical skills. Though the surrounding community called them monks, they referred to themselves as the Society of the Woman in the Wilderness, in reference to one of their biblical interpretations. The hermits were frequently sought out for their knowledge of medicine and their understanding of numerology and astrology. When the world did not end in 1694, the date was reinterpreted and pushed forward several times. When Kelpius died in 1708, the society disbanded. Some members joined the similar Ephrata Cloister, while others chose to marry. The cave of Kelpius and several others still exist today.

T
HE
E
XPLOSION OF THE
Island Queen

On September 10, 1947, the excursion steamer
Island Queen
exploded at the dock along the Monongahela River in Pittsburgh. The boat was 285 feet long and 50 feet wide, making it one of the largest on inland waters. It had five decks and the capacity to hold four thousand. Sixty crew members were onboard at the time of the blast, but luckily there were no passengers. Twenty-one of the crew members were killed and eighteen were wounded. Some were thrown more than 30 feet away into the river. The blast also damaged cars and buildings along the river. Fireboats extinguished the fire and rescued the survivors. The blast was most likely triggered by an acetylene torch.

T
HE
P
UMPKIN
F
LOOD

In September and early October 1786, much of the state was inundated with heavy rains. The massive amounts of rainwater caused the Susquehanna River and its tributaries to swell. By October 6, the waters spilled over the riverbanks and washed away vital crops that were soon to be harvested. Those who witnessed the flood reported that hundreds of pumpkins could be seen floating down the river, washed away before they were picked. Because so much food was lost, many farm animals starved to death over the winter, causing financial hardship for many farmers.

A C
RIME
S
PREE AND
S
HOOTOUT

Twenty-six-year-old Albert Feelo, twenty-seven-year-old Virgil Evarts and thirty-three-year-old Kenneth Palmer had all served time together in Rockview Penitentiary during the 1930s. All three were troublemakers, and when they started working together, things got out of hand. After they were released, they originally planned to find legitimate employment. Their plans did not last long. In early September 1941, the three men met up at a bar in Uniontown. For the next two weeks, they committed a series of crimes in western Pennsylvania.