Lou’s View – Dec. 19, 2013
By Lou Bernard
Last year, for Christmas, I wrote about Christmas a century in the past. I pulled out the old newspapers from 1912, and went through them, collecting bizarre stories from a hundred years back. Because it just wouldn’t be Christmas in Lock Haven if something bizarre didn’t happen.
When something works, I stick with it. And, of course, some crazy stuff also happened in December of 1913.
It began with a snowstorm. Overnight, a storm of “unusual severity” hit the county, knocking out all telephone and telegraph lines to Lock Haven. People who had boots as gifts were given them early, so they could go out and shovel.
About eleven AM, a man entered Hallem’s clothing at the corner of Main and Vesper Streets. He began to dance and sing, but apparently wasn’t very good at it. The newspaper said,”Much to the disgust of Mr. Hallem and his clerks, who were waiting on Christmas shoppers.”
The weird caroler became abusive, and Hallem sent for Police Chief Joseph Powers. The man was arrested, but as he was marched to the jail, he lay down and pretended to have a seizure. This ended when he tried to kick Powers, who got some assistance from Harry Hudson Crissman, who just happened to be walking by at the time.
A crowd gathered to watch. The man wasn’t going peacefully, so Crissman went Christmas shopping for a rope, and they tied the man’s legs. Then they flagged down a local delivery truck, threw the man in the back, and took him to jail.
The man probably got to join the prisoners in the county jail for their Christmas meal, served by Sheriff John Cupper. The prisoners had a chicken dinner, and once the crazy man from Hallem’s joined them, most likely a song and dance number.
The local taverns were closed for the second year in a row—An ordinance from 1913 was still in effect. The newspaper said,”Saloons were closed all day and those who imbibed too freely had laid in a supply the day previous.”
Over at Great Island Presbyterian, the role of Santa Claus was played by local music director William G. Laye. Laye was “an ideal and rotund Santa Claus,” according to the local papers. With a little blonde girl on his lap, he asked,”And now, tell me, what did you get for Christmas?”
“You oughta know,” said the girl. “You brung ‘em to me!”
History does not record the girl’s name, but I would not be surprised to find out that she became an attorney.
Up in the Hill Section, at 442 South Fairview Street, fire departments were sent to the home of stonemason George Sweet when his house filled with smoke. (This is right down the road from where I live, and if the post office happens to be reading my column, PLEASE quit delivering my mail to 442.) The soot in Sweet’s chimney caught fire, filling the whole house with smoke. The family ran from the house, and a large crowd gathered to watch, since the crazy singer had already been taken to jail and all. The fire department discovered that the blaze was confined to the chimney, however, and put it out safely.
Over in Lockport, three couples spent Christmas night celebrating their anniversaries. Mr. and Mrs. Albert Welsh, Mr. and Mrs. Robert McGill, and Mr. and Mrs. Charles Macklem had all been married on Christmas day in 1900. They celebrated their thirteenth anniversary together with a huge party at the Lockport Hotel. Forty guests showed up for dinner, dancing, and companionship, and enjoyed themselves well into the night. (The music for the dancing was provided by the Schadt orchestra, not by a strange guy who happened to wander in and get himself arrested.)
So that’s what was going on locally on Christmas, one hundred years ago. Have a great Christmas, everyone—I’ll be in New Jersey visiting my sister. It’s entirely possible I’ll see a weird singing and dancing man, but hey, it’s New Jersey—That’s common over there. Merry Christmas.
