Lou’s View – December 24, 2014
Christmas in 1914
by Lou Bernard
Let’s break out the Christmas traditions. It’s that time of year—Hang the stockings. Decorate the tree. Sing carols badly. And while we’re doing all that, it’s time for me to write my annual column about what was happening in the area a hundred years ago.
I like looking these things up, just popping the microfilm in and checking to see what happened in the past. A century back is a nice round number, so let me tell you, this holiday, what was happening around Christmas of 1914.
Just before Christmas, there was a home that burned down in Castanea. Leroy Neff and his wife ran from their home just in time to escape the flames, getting outside into a raging snowstorm with nothing but their lives. The fire departments couldn’t save their home, but they were sheltered at the nearby store of Joseph Poorman for the duration.
Over in Mill Hall, a woman named Mrs. Murray fell down her cellar stairs while getting something. She tumbled down the stairs, bruised but otherwise unhurt, and dropped her lamp. It was only luck that kept the lamp from breaking, and starting a fire like the one over in Castanea.
Charles Seyler, who was described as “an interesting little lad,” was brought into court for being incorrigible. His teachers testified that he’d missed a lot of school, and the Clinton County Times said,”He is an interesting little fellow of ten and one of the best boys in school—When there. But Charles doesn’t like school and missed many days.” Charles promised to attend school more regularly, and was released.
In other news, Mrs. L.S. Jackson made a plea to city council to have her husband released from the Danville mental hospital. He’d been sent there a few weeks previously; at the time, Mrs. Jackson claimed that she’d been sick and couldn’t care for him. But she was better now, and wanted him home.
Meanwhile, police were raiding a disorderly house. It was said to be on the border of the city, near the trolley house—Around Woodward Avenue, today. Two women were sent to spend Christmas in jail, which was referred to as “Fort Cupper,” after Sheriff John T. Cupper. The Clinton County Times did that. Housekeeping normally not being a police matter, I suspect “disorderly house” was code for something else—Especially since the police also arrested “four men in connection with the place.”
But if there was one fascinating thing in the Times that holiday, it had to be the press statements from the men on the Civil War monument—And I have to add here that I am not making any of this up.
The Civil War monument was built in 1908, standing in what is now Triangle Park in Lock Haven. It was moved much later. But in the early part of the 1900s, some weird reporter got the idea of interviewing the soldier statues that stood there. I’ve written about this a time or two before—The Sailor talked about seeing the latest flood, and the Infantryman was kind of a sexist jerk about women voting. I’m telling the truth here; I’m not creative enough to make this up—Though I honestly kind of wish I was.
“As the Christmas season approaches,” said the Cavalryman,”A feeling of both gladness and sorrow comes over me.” He went on to say that he saw fewer shoppers downtown this year, though as he didn’t face the business district and couldn’t turn his head, how he would know is beyond me. But he insisted there were not as many Christmas shoppers, and blamed it on Lock Haven’s economy.
At which point, the Infantryman told the Cavalryman that he wasn’t a statistician, and was probably wrong about his assessment. The Cavalryman took offense and began ranting about the Lock Haven taxes. And at this point, they would have come to blows except that they were stone and couldn’t move. I would like to reiterate that I am not making this up.
Oh Christmas day, there was another article with statements from the soldiers—For stone men, these guys never shut up. “It’s the real Christmas spirit I’ve been looking at—The side that gives new life and inspiration to a fellow of even my years,” said the Artilleryman. (“His years” were about six at the time; the monument wasn’t that old.) He credited the Elks and the Children’s Aid Society with doing good things, and talked about all the nice deeds people had done.
“A quarter of a century ago there was nothing much to Christmas but Santa Claus,” he said. “But the spirit has grown and continues to grow.”
“All I thought of saying,” said the Infantryman,”Was to offer our old comrades in arms and the rest of you fellows a real merry Christmas and a happy new year.”
I’m with him. Happy holidays to everyone—And I assume the soldiers would say so, too, if they were still talking these days.
