Showing posts with label railroads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label railroads. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Great St. Patrick's Day Flood, 1936: Ambridge stories

 

Unidentified boy looking at train on flooded railroad tracks,
east side of American Bridge Co., at the Ambridge Station 
St. Patrick's Day Flood, 1936
postcard
personal collection


The cause of the 1936 St. Patrick's Day floodthe biggest natural disaster in the history of the Pittsburgh regionhas been blamed on weeks of abnormal weather. First a prolonged cold spell allowed an unusual amount of snow and ice to accumulate. Then, just before St. Patrick's day, a sudden rise in temperature caused a rapid melt. And if those weren't problematic enough, an hours-long downpour added to the amount of water that had already been rising out of local streams and along the banks of Pittsburgh's rivers. Previously unimaginable destruction and death followed in Pittsburgh and many other river communities. 

During the overnight hours of March 17, the Ohio River began to rise in Ambridge. Although located along the river, Ambridge was relatively lucky thanks to its natural topography and to the American Bridge Company's occupation of most of the riverfront. American Bridge, though, wasn't so lucky.

The "crackerbox" tenements that had once stood on the river bank between 9th and 10th street, and flooded in 1907, were gone by 1936. Reportedly, only some of the Ambridge houses on Bank St. along Big Sewickley Creek were flooded. (But neighboring Fair Oaks, on the opposite, lower bank of the creek, wasn't as fortunate. See the photo below.) The rest of Ambridgehomes, businesses, and, with the exception of American Bridge, industrieswere high enough above the flood water that they were spared. 

Flooding in Fair Oaks along Big Sewickley Creek, 
opposite Ambridge
photo was taken from the upper part of Ambridge's Glenwood Dr.,
houses in the foreground are on Valley Rd.
March 1936
courtesy Ambridge Borough


Importantly, no Ambridge resident was reported as drowning in the deep, swift, muddy, and debris-filled floodwater. 

However, Ambridge experienced the same disruption of transportation, news, electricity, gas, phone, and telegraph service as other communities, not only along the river, but beyond.

Duquesne Light Co. substation
across Big Sewickley Creek from Ambridge,
Beaver St., Fair Oaks
March 1936 flood
courtesy Ambridge Borough

Roads were blocked by water, mud, or rockslides, making travel in or out of Ambridge pretty much impossible. Trucks that usually delivered food and other vital supplies could not make the trip into Ambridge. Rail service was suspended; a train was stranded on flooded tracks at the Ambridge station. 

Electric service was iffy and eventually limited to Ambridge's water plant, dairies, bakeries, and the phone company. Streets were unlit; buildings were lit by candles, flashlights, lanterns, and fireplaces for several days. Burgess P. J. Caul issued a special notice on March 20: 

Gas service in Ambridge from 8th St. south was shut off for several days as a safety precaution. As a result, many homes and businesses were unheated and stoves inoperable. 

Ambridge schools were closed until March 23 because they had no lights and heat.

Phone service was limited to emergency calls to the police and fire departments, doctors, drug stores, industrial plants, news offices, and other places that might need to be contacted if there was an emergency.

A big worry was that the Ambridge Water Works, with its location near the river, and already surrounded by water, might flood. Users were urged to conserve water. Ambridge's industrial plants were closed in the hopes that would ensure enough water for residential use. Fortunately, the Water Works survived the flood without contamination from the Ohio.

The only plant in Ambridge that remained open in the immediate aftermath of the flood was National Electric Co., so it could make critically needed replacement electrical equipment for damaged public utilities. But the company had to rely on its own power and water supplies. Electricity wasn't available from Duquesne Light Co. or water from the borough. 

Mail could not be delivered for two days. Outgoing mail couldn't leave Ambridge either.

The Ohio River finally crested in the Ambridge area at noon, March 18, measuring 44.3 feet at Lock No. 4 in Legionville in Harmony Township, more than 18 feet above flood stage. The flood water continued downstream, making its way towards other river towns in Beaver County, West Virginia, and Ohio. 


The flood at American Bridge Company

American Bridge Co.
Ohio River flood
March 18, 1936
postcard
personal collection

Ambridge's American Bridge, the largest structural steel fabricating plant in the world, seems to have been caught off guard by the amount of water the Ohio was rushing towards it that fateful St. Patrick's Day.

Men working at American Bridge the night of March 17 tried to save some of the plant's important property as the river began to push its way in, but the water came in so fast, and rose so high, the men had to abandon the plant at 3 AM. Plant electricians continued to work in the plant's powerhouse until 8 AM when they had to be rescued by boat. Power to the plant was finally shut off. The water continued to rise. 

On the morning of March 18, men who reported for work were sent home. American Bridge's barge yard and main shops were reportedly covered by two feet of water, a foot higher than during the disastrous 1907 flood. As a result, the plant couldn't operate and so was shut down. The local plant manager said all they could do was wait until the water receded to assess the damage. However, the damage was expected to be more than the "thousands of dollars" incurred during the '07 flood. That expectation turned out to be true, but did not do justice to the final cost of returning American Bridge to operating condition as the water continued to rise to a record eight feet.

On March 19, American Bridge officials said that the plant was still under four or five feet of water, after dropping about three feet from its high mark at 8 PM the day before. Repairs in the plant couldn't begin until the water receded. (Daily Citizen, March 20, 1936)

By March 20, water at American Bridge had receded "to the top of the lower level of the boat yard ways." Cleanup by several hundred employees began that morning. The "reclamation" and "re-conditioning" started in offices, shops, and yards where mud and debris had to be removed. Replacement of records and files destroyed by the flood began. Motors were taken to Ambridge's National Electric Co. plant to be cleaned and dried.

Once the power was turned back on, more workers would be added to complete the cleanup which would require "weeks" to finish. 

Cleanup continuing through April 6, when the all departments finally reopened. However, only the barge yard and a limited number of other departments were back to full operation. Other departments still were unable to fully open because the power plant, while working again, couldn't yet provide enough power. (Daily Times, April 8, 1936)


The Daily Citizen publishes despite obstacles

Getting news in 1936 wasn't always quick and easy in ordinary times, but for a while during and after the flood, finding out what was happening was much more difficult than usual. 

Most people relied on local newspapers and, maybe a radio if they, or a neighbor, were lucky enough to own one during the depression years. 

But without electricity, radio stations couldn't broadcast. Pittsburgh's powerhouse station KDKA could only broadcast intermittent alerts and emergency information. And without electricity, Ambridge residents couldn't hear radio news anyway. Battery operated radios weren't common then, and the batteries required electrical recharging. 

Ambridge's Daily Citizen found gathering and printing the news to be quite a challenge, but they, with the generous help of newspapers from neighboring towns, made a valiant effort.

The morning United Press news report usually delivered to Ambridge's train depot didn't come on March 18. UP's Pittsburgh office was flooded, so the Citizen had to get most of its stories via long distance calls from Cleveland, Ohio. When UP finally was able to contact the Citizen "by special wire," the reporter had to read the information by flashlight. 

With its gas service cut off, the Citizen couldn't operate the gas-heated linotype machines used for most of its printing. But the Sewickley Herald offered the use of their linotypes, enabling the Citizen to print "a limited amount of copy." The Citizen noted the published paper's unusual appearance, since it was set with the different typefaces used by both newspapers. Beaver's Daily Times also helped by sending "five galleys of their early copy."

Yet another problem arrived two days later when the Citizen's printing plant lost electric power, stopping its ability to print. But the Citizen was able to publish a four page edition, thanks to the Beaver Falls News-Tribune, which allowed the Citizen to use its equipment.

But that wasn't the end of the problems created by the flood. Four days into the flood, all of Beaver County lost electric power, and none of the papers in Beaver County could print. But the Citizen's staff still was determined to print a paper. Here's how they accomplished that with ingenuity, some unusual help from two people in Ambridge, an Ambridge industrial plant which had its own electrical supply, an extraordinary effort by the paper's staff, and finally, the help of a newspaper in neighboring Butler County:
A small motor was dismantled from a washing machine, loaned by [Ambridge business owner] C. F. Milleman, and attached to one of linotype machines.

At 2 o'clock this morning, employees practically dismantled the mangle and sewing machine of Mrs. Anna Ross, 184 Sixth Street, in order to procure the pully and gadgets found necessary for the completion of the primitive but nevertheless effective contrivance. Operators worked all night preparing for today's issue by the light provided by two kerosene lamps, a lantern and flashlights. The entire force was kept busy this morning setting much of the copy by hand. The Citizen's portable saw was moved to the plant of the National Electric Company where their power was used in order to trim all advertising cuts.

Forms and type were then transported by [automobile] to Butler, where the paper was printed on the Butler Eagle press. 

The Ambridge marauders and one man's excuse

A number of out-of-town papers wrote about a mob from Ambridge that had gone to neighboring Leetsdale, a community that had suffered a great deal of flood damage, in order to loot. Leetsdale residents objected. A riot ensued. Leetsdale's police chief had to call the National Guard to help.

Here's the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette's March 21 account of the story:


I haven't yet found Ambridge's version of the whole Leetsdale looting story in the Daily Citizen, although according to the March 24 issue, one of the arrested Ambridge men offered an explanation of his actions to a judge:
Joe Gilbert, Bank street, Ambridge, was held under $2,500 bond at a hearing before Judge Ralph Smith, in Allegheny court yesterday on a charge of larceny, and he was committed to the Allegheny county jail.

Gilbert was one of the men arrested by the Leetsdale police for looting in the flooded area. According to Gilbert's story, he had no intention of stealing, but had come across a garage lodged against a tree in the garden flats 300 yards away from any house, and that looking in, he saw a raincoat and a jack, which he thought he was entitled to, since he had found them. Judge Smith, however, thought otherwise
.
The March 23 Citizen did say in an article about Leetsdale's flood damage and cleanup that eight of the nine Ambridge men who had been arrested were sent home "with a warning not to be caught back in Leetsdale again" and added:
Twenty-two Leetsdale residents, mostly members of the fire department, were deputized as special police by the [Leetsdale] Burgess and were armed with sawed off shot guns with orders to shoot in the legs anyone caught below the railroad tracks after dark. 

The missing Ambridge boy

Another Ambridge story that made a lot of out-of-town papers was about a missing 16 year-old boy who hadn't come home after visiting his grandmother in South Heights, across the Ohio, a few days after the flood had arrived in Ambridge. Naturally, his parents were frantic and search parties sent out, but they failed to find the boy. However, the story ended with a weird twist. Here's what the Daily Citizen wrote in its Monday, March 23 issue:
After three days of frantic searching for Elmer Bauder, 16-year old son of John Bauder, 554 Maplewood avenue, missing since Friday [March 20], word was received this morning that he was all-right and he had started on a trip.

Friday morning, young Bauder invited Frank McGeorge to go to South Heights to his grandmother's to get a warm dinner. When told that he would be over there for two or three hours, McGeorge declined saying that he had to be home in an hour. He asked Bauder if the "gang" would see him that night and was given the assurance that they would.

He went to the home of his grandmother, Mrs. Elmer Laughner, where he did have dinner. He was given $3 to buy galoshes and went to Beck's store for this purpose. They did not have the kind he wanted and he said he would wait until he returned to Ambridge. At 1:30 o'clock he walked out of the store and that was the last that was known of his whereabouts.

Police were notified and searches of parties of three and four have combed Ambridge and the South Heights districts. Yesterday, the state police sent out a teletype of his description. He disappearance also had been broadcast over the radio.

This morning, John Bauder, received a postal card, postmarked midnight Friday from the Oakland Branch of the Pittsburgh postoffice. It read:

"Dad, don't worry. I'm alright. I'm going someplace. I'll be back home shortly. Tell Grandmother Laughner I'm away on a trip with the DeMolays" signed, "Red."

The reference to the trip with the DeMolays was made because of the illness of Mrs. Laughner and he evidently did not want his grandmother to worry about him.

It is thought that the youth got a ride to Pittsburgh on a delivery truck and, having $8 in his pocket, decided to go to Johnstown to view the results of the flood. Another conjecture is that he is heading south with the intention of visiting Lawrence Shomo, who is attending Atlanta Military Academy at Port Defiance, Virginia, and then continuing to St. Petersburgh to visit his uncle, who owns a drug store there.

There had been no trouble between the boy and his relatives so it evidently had not been premeditated as he was not dressed up when he left home Friday.
I was told that Elmer eventually returned home, but as of yet, I don't know when. Or what his parents had to say to him when he did.


The floating garage
The floating garage crashing against a pier of the Ambridge-Aliquippa bridge let go an automobile which quickly sank while another [automobile] was lodged safely in the remaining part of the building as it moved down steam. (Daily Citizen, March 20, 1936)
_____

The information in this article came from reporting in Ambridge's Daily Citizen newspaper unless another source is named.

Saturday, March 24, 2018

American Bridge Company office building, 1903

American Bridge Company Office
1903
Beaver County Historical Research & Landmark Foundation archives

The photo above shows the west side of the American Bridge Company office shortly after the building was completed in 1903. The building, which was at the southwest corner of Park Rd. and 4th St., was razed in 2014.

The photo was donated to BCHRLF by the Zahn family and a copy passed on to me by Jeffrey Snedden, writer of the Beaver County Times' "Histories & Mysteries" column. Jeffrey said, "Jesse Zahn was one of the original employees of the American Bridge Co. in 1903 and retired with 47 years of service. He and his family lived in Ambridge early on, but moved to Rochester later. "

Thanks, Jeffrey!

You can see photos of the "Bridge Works" office being constructed in these other blog posts:

"The American Bridge office: Going up and coming down," February 16, 2014

"American Bridge Office building, early design," July 10, 2017

Saturday, April 22, 2017

American Bridge Co. ships 165-foot girder by rail, 1950

Ambridge's American Bridge Co. produced some amazing products. Here's one of them:

Longest Steel Girder
American Bridge Company
Acme press photo
February 14, 1950

The back of this press photo describes it:
Workmen put a protective coat on the longest steel girder ever shipped in one piece from the Ambridge, PA., plant of U.S. Steel's American Bridge Company. The 165-foot, 75-ton girder is bound for use in a Philadelphia railroad bridge. Ten others, just like it, are being made for the job. Four standard length railroad flat cars are needed for the giant girder.
Ambridge's American Bridge Co. plant, once the largest structural steel fabricating plant in the world, was operating by 1904 and closed in 1984.

Monday, October 24, 2016

Ambridge memorabilia: American Bridge Co. playing card

This vintage playing card, featuring Ambridge's American Bridge Co. plant, was part of a deck illustrated with prominent Pittsburgh area scenes and buildings like the Pittsburgh Post Office and the Pittsburgh Exposition Buildings.

"American Bridge Co., U. S. Steel Co."
playing card
circa 1905

The person from whom I got the card described the deck as "Souvenir Playing Cards," manufactured circa 1905 for the May Drug Co., which was a well-known Pittsburgh pharmacy chain. If that date is right, the card shows how large the plant already was by the time Ambridge was incorporated in 1905.

The footbridge in the foreground allowed steelworkers to cross the train tracks and passengers to access the train platforms.

Here's the back of the card:

Playing card back

A picture of the "Fort Duquesne" Block House--the still-standing Fort Pitt Block House--is centered on the back. The City of Pittsburgh seal is on both sides of the Block House.

The tartan pennant at the top is that of the Carnegie Technical Schools, the predecessor to Carnegie Institute of Technology, currently Carnegie Mellon University.

A University of Pittsburgh pennant is at the bottom.

The two other pennants have City of Pittsburgh seals.

Monday, October 26, 2015

Ambridge memorabilia: H.H. Robertson bag

Bill Orlowski sent me this bag. Thanks, Bill!

H. H. Robertson Company bag
front

The bag is made of a muslin-like material with a thin drawstring at the top. It's approximately 9 1/2 inches from top to bottom and 5 inches wide.

One side of the bag is printed with:

H. H. ROBERTSON COMPANY
AMBRIDGE, PA.
Robertson Protected Metal Roofing, Siding, Trim, Galbestos Roofing & Siding, Louvres, Ducts, Hoods and Sheet-Lites. Robertson "Q" Flooring, Steel Decks, Gravity Type Ventilators, Fan Ventilators, Structural Skylights and Sash, Robertson Asphaltic Coatings, Hubbellite Floors.

H. H. Robertson Company bag
back

On the reverse side is hand-printed "AIR GAUGES." Was this for employees to carry small parts in? And if so, why list all the company's products on the front?

H. H. Robertson was a 40 acre industrial plant once located in an area that stretched from the north side of 14th St. to 19th St, and from Oak Alley on the east to the old Belt Line Railroad tracks on the west, just east of Merchant St.

The Beaver County Emergency Services (911) building is now located on the 14th St. end of the company's former property.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Byersdale Tough

Wiki Images
by Robert Giles

I don’t know if this story is about “Harper” or “Mutzie”. In my head, I’ve got the two of them mixed up. They were older boys, born before The War.

Anyway, I don’t want to confuse you so let’s pretend it’s about Mutzie. If I’m wrong, correct me. (This is how I do things – I just give it my best guess and let the chips fly.)

In the fifties, people worried a lot about “juvenile delinquency”. There wasn’t much else to worry about. Mutzie wasn’t actually a juvenile delinquent; he just looked the part.

He was big and strong and always wore a tee shirt and had a pack of Winston’s rolled up in his sleeve. He had long, straight brown hair combed back in a ducktail. When he wasn’t smoking a cigarette, he was chewing on a toothpick.

He had a way of looking mean and tough – not like some crybaby from the movies – I mean Byersdale tough.

He had a nice car with white wall tires and skirts. It was robin’s egg blue and cream. He always kept it immaculately clean and polished. It had everything but a good muffler. He liked it that way. We always knew when Mutzie was coming down the hill.

One day my brother and his friend Steve let us in on a secret – someone had put sugar in Mutzie’s gas tank, causing the engine to seize. (They were quick to add they hadn’t done it.)

My sister and her friend Marlene asked me if I wanted to take a walk up over the hill to the playground. Sure, I loved to play on the see-saws. I was about seven years old.

Way up on top of Anthony Wayne Drive the three of us ran into Mutzie. He was working on his car. The engine was on the sidewalk in about fifty pieces. There was grease on his white tee shirt. His shiny brown hair was mussed.

All of a sudden he crossed the street and came toward us menacingly. He pointed his finger at me. “You’re the little bastard that sugared my tank, aren’t you?”

Marlene placed herself between Mutzie and me.

“That little boy is seven years old. What kind of an idiot are you? Have you any idea what you’re saying?”

Marlene proceeded to give Mutzie her lip. I forget most of what she said but that’s OK. I couldn’t print it here anyway.

Mutzie backed off. We continued our walk. I was still shaky. I think I was scared for three days afterward.

I think Marlene was the one who was “Byersdale tough”.


The Crib

The crib was put away in the attic after my little brother outgrew it and moved into the bed in the hall. It didn’t come out again until eight years later. It looked like any other crib – it was painted white.

The mattress was just thick enough and the springs were just strong enough. One side was adjustable – you could lower it to change a diaper and then raise it back up so the toddler wouldn’t fall out onto the floor.

I think it had two strings of wooden beads impaled on steel rods on the adjustable side. A child could find delight spinning them and moving them up and down. They may have been painted with bright primary colors but I don’t think they were – I just remember the shiny white paint (or was it a maple varnish).

My earliest memory ever is of being exiled from my parents’ bedside when my new brother came home from the hospital. It was time to move out of the crib and into a hostile world.

For my brother and me, it was the beginning of a rivalry.



The Sea of Legs

We were inside the big tent erected on top of the softball diamond in Byers’ Field. It was lit with strings of bare incandescent light bulbs. There were tables here and there with things to buy. Was this part of a carnival, or was it a flea market or rummage sale? I think it was part of a carnival. There were at least fifty people inside the tent, maybe even a hundred. It was a big tent.

I was about three years old. I held my mother’s hand as she guided me through a sea of legs, mostly the female kind.

My mother let go of me to look at something on one of the tables. I had to keep moving or I would be trampled.

Panic set in. Where was Mom?

I saw a pair of navy blue slacks. I felt relieved. I reached out and tugged on the slacks.

I looked up. It was a complete stranger.

Those first furry mammals that looked up into the face of a tyrannosaurus rex must have had a similar scare.

Freak show! That settles it - it must have been a carnival.


The Clover Farm Store

There was a neighborhood grocery where the Laundromat now stands across Dearborn at the north end of Watson Street. It was once the AM Byers’ company store but that was before I was born. I remember it as the Clover Farm Store.

Residents of Byersdale could run a tab there until payday. We kids went there for soda pop or penny candy or for a loaf of bread and lunch meat. The store was turned into a laundry after the Isaly store opened just down the street and ran it out of business.

We didn’t appreciate it at the time, of course, but that was probably our first brush with “the creative destruction of capitalism”.

There was a lady there called “Binger”. There also was a Mrs. Overholt. I don’t know if “Binger” was a last name or a nickname.

Anyway, Binger was nice to us kids, especially my brother, who was cute and had curly hair. One day at the dinner table my brother stunned everyone by announcing, “When I grow up I want to be a store lady like Binger.”

Ouch! He should have phrased that a little differently. The teasing and ridicule began and has not let up to this day. At our family reunions, someone will always ask him if he has become a store lady yet.

He has learned to deal with it – “No, I haven’t grown up yet.”

Good retort, bro. I haven’t grown up yet either.


Trains

Once or twice in the evening each summer, Mom would take us for walks down across Duss Avenue to the road in Byers’ Field where all the sixteen-year-olds practiced their driving. That road leads into another road and pretty soon we came to the AM Byers Company railroad siding. At that time of day there was never a train idling on the siding to block us.

Once we crossed the siding, we could see the Ohio River. We stood at the top of a high bluff that loomed over the Pennsy tracks and the ruins of Old Lock Number 4.

Once in a while there were coal barges tied up along the lock wall. They were interesting but not half as interesting as the trains. We had come to see the trains.

There was a wooden staircase that the carpenters at the Byers plant had built so that workers could go down to service the pump house that stood on the river bank with its foot in the water. (Maybe the water was cold and it didn’t want to plunge all the way in.)

We sat on top of the steps and took in the view. After a bit a train would come along. Sometimes there were two at once, one headed north and the other headed toward Pittsburgh.

Watching the trains was like a geography class. All those place names written on the sides of the boxcars. Even a small boy realized what a big country it was.

“What’s that train way across on the other side of the river?”

“That’s the Pittsburgh and Lake Erie. The ones in the steel plant are the Aliquippa and Southern. The four tracks on this side of the river are the Pennsylvania.”

“The Pennsylvania is the best, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Bobby, it’s the best of all.”

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Ambridge Today: American Bridge, train tracks, and football


Ambridge Football sign along Ohio River Blvd.
in front on the former American Bridge mill,
November 20, 2013
copyright Nancy Knisley
Quintessentially "Ambridge": the former American Bridge mill, railroad tracks, and Ambridge High School football.