Lou’s View

By Lou Bernard

Last week, when I went out to get the Record, it wasn’t in the mailbox. I waited a few days, and then figured probably Chris Miller had stolen my copy. So I bought another from the grocery store, got home, and immediately found the first copy, blown out of my mailbox by high winds and up against the fence.

I suppose everyone has experienced something like that. We’ve all been through excessively bad weather at one time or another. It’s why an article from the past strikes a chord: “High Winds Play High Jinks In All Parts Of Lock Haven,” which ran on April 8, 1909 in the Clinton County Times.

The paper came out on Thursday morning. On the front page, it detailed a highly damaging windstorm that had hit Lock Haven the day before. About noon on Wednesday, April 7, it began.

“The most destructive wind storm that has struck the city in years commenced about noon on Wednesday and gradually increased I velocity during the afternoon and a portion of the evening,” the Times reported. “At times the wind blew like a tornado and threatened to do still more damage than actually resulted. During the time in continued there was great danger from fire and the men, and horses at the Grove Street engine house were ready in an instant to respond for duty, but fortunately their services were not needed.”

This is not to say there wasn’t any damage. During the storm, it was considerable. Not only did the power go out in the southwestern section of the city, but several poles went down, as well. It took some time to repair, but the local Electric Light company sent men out and got it done, restoring power to that blacked-out portion of the city.

An ice house on the corner of Grant and Water Streets, belonging to a company called Mussina and Reed, was destroyed by the wind, taking a large load of ice stored by ice cream salesman George Tucker with it. It was shored up with some wooden props on the east side, which was about all that prevented it from falling into the house of Theodore Huff and destroying that, too.

A tin roof on Walker’s Meat Market on Grove was torn off, and landed on the engine house next door. Simon and Sons grocery warehouse nearby lost its roof, as well. Meanwhile on Bellefonte Avenue, the hardware store owned by Charles Fickenscher lost its tin awning. It was not a good night for tin structures, is what I’m saying here.

Up on Spring Street, the barn of Annie Boardman was damaged. Annie was a widow, working down the street at the Empire Laundry, and her barn was wrenched and twisted enough by the wind that the whole thing had to be torn down.

Part of the roof was torn from the house of William Satterlee, which was on land now owned by the Post Office. Far down on West Water, the large home of George Good lost a maple tree, which was blown over onto the lawn east of the home.

At 10 Bellefonte Avenue, where the Avenue Bookstore now stands, Frank Harder owned a sporting goods place. A glass display cabinet was blown over into the street, which had held knives for sale. It shattered, sending broken glass and knives all over the street, which is almost a scene from a very over-the-top disaster movie.

The brick house of William Rathgeber on South Fairview Street, which today I can see from my front yard, was badly damaged, as well. And Margaret Welsh was walking home from the paper mill to her place on Park Street when she was blown into the canal basin by the winds. She got out unhurt, but the newspaper reported, ”The experience was not to her liking.”

Of course repairs were made, and life went on, as it tends to do. But I’m sure they talked about it for quite a while afterward, except for maybe Margaret Welsh, who probably just wanted to forget the whole thing.