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The Benton News looks around Columbia County recalling some of the stories that has endeared its residents for the last hundred years. The stories are retold in the following paragraphs. The story will jump around, so hang on and we'll hitch up the horses and go for a ride. To get the flavor of the times, you might start by reading about the Appleman and Long Wagons built in Benton. In fact, we might as well begin with wagons...

Wagons...
• Didja know that Columbia county furnished wagons, as well as missionaries, for Africa? In July, 1910, Edward Buck, Millville, finished a wagon which he then shipped to Kongo, Africa. Bert Young, Unityville, had been in Kongo for almost two years and was home on a visit. He needed a hand wagon strong enough to carry several hundred pounds and had Mr. Buck make him one. The wheels were buggy wheels cut down to about twenty inches, but otherwise was made along the lines of the Millville farm wagons. At one time Kongo was the biggest state in western Central Africa, stretching from the Atlantic in the west to the Kwango River in the east.

Critters...
• A "Mad Dog Scare" made the Philadelphia Inquirer in April, 1910. The State "Live Stock Sanitary Board" concluded that a dog that ran amuck in Greenwood and Madison townships and in several townships in Montour County was a victim of rabies. The head of the dog had been sent to the agency after it had bitten a large number of dogs and was finally shot. The state ordered a forty-day quarantine of all dogs along the route traveled by the mad dog and a hundred-day quarantine of all dogs that had been bitten.

• A skunk took possession of the cellar of Charles Gearinger, Bloomsburg, in April, 1910, and "held it for several days." Finally, Gearinger "summoned up sufficient courage to kill it. The members of the family are still aware that it was their guest."

• Toads invaded Columbia County in July, 1908. The Philadelphia Inquirer said it this way: "Many sections of Columbia County this morning gave evidence that the community was being visited by a veritable Old Testament plague of toads." According to the write-up, "toads by the millions fairly covered every place upon which they could get a footing. They were so thick on West Berwick pavements that pedestrians were compelled to take to the streets. Much of the same condition existed in Bloomsburg."

• Rattlesnakes were a problem in Columbia county at one time. The Times-Leader of July 14, 1910, said that in the day previous three rattlesnakes were killed in Beaver Township, one of which was six-feet long. Two Catawissa boys were attacked by a rattlesnake, but managed to kill it. The newspaper indicated that "the horse of Frank Tritt was frightened at a huge one lying in the road and which was about to spring on it, and it was only after a hard fight that Tritt managed to kill it."

To make the next story understandable, it is necessary to provide a little history. On November 1, 1896, the law in Pennsylvania was changed so that effective with that date quail could be lawfully killed. As the Philadelphia Inquirer on that date reported, "To all lovers of dog and gun, there is no sport in the wide world like quail shooting." The article indicated that there was no other sport in which the shooter had so much chance to show his skill--or lack of it.

For those who are not familiar with the sound of a flying quail, the birds make a whining noise that follows their rapid-wing beats. The bird is heavy-bodied and has short, round wings which have to flap with lightning-like rapidity. The bird isn't particularly hard to hit in open county. With their heavy bodies and small wings they only fly at half the speed a hunter expects them to fly. The hunter only has to take careful aim, take his time and the bird is his. The trouble is that most hunters don't do that. The sound indicates that the bird is heading to the next county with the speed of light and most hunters blaze away as if they were starring in a Sylvester Stallone movie. The birds band together socially in a covey of twenty or so at a time, so if the exact bird one is aiming at is missed, the bird's second cousin will probably get nailed.

Quail, as Viewed in 1910...
A number of "farmers of the Berwick section," headed by M. L. Keller and Charles Dildine, Orangeville, organized a quail-protective association. They believed that the quail was one of the best aids to the farmer among the insect-destroying birds.

Mr. Keller claimed that he "carefully studied the quail and its habits," and concluded "from experts that each bird consumes an average of one-half an ounce of weed seed daily from September 1 to April 1." He was quoted as saying that "It is estimated that there are four quail to each square mile of farm land in Pennsylvania, then each year in this state they destroy about 640 tons of weed seed, enough to smother 39,000 acres of wheat."

It isn't clear where these statistics came from but Keller continued, "From June to September the quail meal consists of one-third insects and two-thirds seeds. It is really remarkable with what precision he picks out the insects that are the worst foes of human food. The list contains the most destructive crop and garden pests in America." Keller concluded that "What is probably the most efficient enemy is the potato bug, and more than 100 of them have been found in the craw of a single bird. They probably kill 50 to 100 each day." Keller proposed that farmers take "some organized method of protecting them and seeing that they increase in number."
--The Wilkes-Barre Times-Leader, June 27, 1910

Do you want to hunt quail in Pennsylvania today? Hopewell Pheasantry, Inc. Felton, "On the Mason-Dixon Line," will fix you right up. A deluxe quail package for 80 birds in an all-day hunt with lunch thrown in is $800.

The Dreams and the Illusions...
• A farmer by the name of F. W. Reeder, Franklin Township, struck several veins of silver ore on his farm, which the Philadelphia Inquirer on January 16, 1901, concluded would "promise to make him his fortune." He found the vein while excavating for a small building. He concluded that it was forty-feet thick and four-feet deep and then he found another vein which he concluded was two-feet deep and forty-feet thick. Both veins ran through his farm. According to the Inquirer, Reeder had the ore analyzed and the analysis showed the ore to be worth $118 to the ton. I found no evidence that Reeder died with any significant amount of money, so I conclude that the ore at the end of the rainbow was similar to the gold sometimes thought to be at the end of a rainbow.

The Bad...
• The year 1900 was a bad year for forest fires in Columbia County. The Philadelphia Inquirer said it this way: "The forest fires in Columbia County are still raging with unabated fury. the residents of Catawissa Valley have succeeded in saving the large mill and valuable timber land. The Knob Mountain near Orangeville is on fire, and the constables, with gangs of men, are having considerable trouble in keeping the flames away from the dwelling houses."

Sufferin' Suffrages...
• Thousands saw a delegation of Columbia County suffragists meet the suffrage "Liberty Bell" as it crossed the Luzerne County line and came into Columbia County for a two-day stay. According to the Philadelphia Inquirer of September 15, 1915, more than a thousand school children watched a parade and hundreds of suffragists in gaily decorated cars participated before the speechmaking began. The "bell" was an exact bronze replica of the famous liberty bell, except that its clapper was silenced by chains fastened to its yoke. The intent was that it would swing only when "Pennsylvania women are free." The new liberty bell made a tour of the state during 1915 arranged so that the bell would reach Philadelphia by November to "ring out its glad tiding after election day."

Marriage and the Classroom...
• In June, 1909, many Columbia County Schoolma'ams had to agree to stay single. The Wilkes-Barre Times Leader noted that "so many Columbia county teachers have abandoned their schools in the last school term to enter the state of matrimony" that a number of school boards are compelling their female-school teachers to sign a new ironclad agreement they will not marry during the period they are engaged to teach.

The Farming Situation...
• The year 1900 was an excellent year for farmers, according to local newspapers. Columbia-county farmers were rejoicing over the prospect of an unusually large harvest. June was a dry month and retarded the growth of cherries and made the strawberry crop shorter than usual. Parts of the county were infested with a species of caterpillar which worked havoc with the foliage of the fruit trees. The wheat was reported to be "of excellent quality and the crop of Timothy was ready for the reaper and there was no fear of shortage or the crop. " The same applied to corn, oats and rye, the apple crop was plentiful, and the "plum and pear trees were laden with fruit and maturing rapidly" according to the July 14 report in the Philadelphia Inquirer.

The Medical Practice...
• In 1913, a bill making it a misdemeanor for any physician or surgeon to practice while under the influence of intoxicating liquor or of any drug was introduced in the House of Representatives by Rep. Charles E. Shaffer, Columbia County. Other bills introduced included one making it a misdemeanor to sell anthracite coal by short weight, prohibited officials or employees of counties, cities, boroughs, etc. from taking part in election affairs. Another bill empowered conductors or motormen to arrest on sight any person guilty of disorderly practices on street cars. Another bill provided for the discharge from prison of persons after they have been confined two years or more for the desertion and non-support of their wives or children or for noncompliance with any court order relating to the support of dependents.

There Were Evil Doers Back Then...
• "A fiendish outrage" is the way the Wilkes-Barre Times began their January 18, 1907, story about an incident in Brynesville (1856-1996), a coal mining village near Centralia. The underground-mine fire that started in Centralia resulted in the relocation of all the people in Brynesville in order to avoid the smoke and fumes. The last house was torn down in 1996. Anyway, a couple in Brynesville "were seized by masked robbers and burned with a hot poker to reveal the hiding place of their money." Six masked men entered the home while the husband and wife were at their kitchen table and demanded their money. The husband threw 20 cents on the table and said that was all he had. The men accused him of lying and tied him in a chair, got a poker from the stove and when it got white hot tore the clothing from the lower part of his body and "applied the poker with the demand that he tell them where he kept his money." He soon "lapsed into unconsciousness." The "brutes" then "secured the wife and tying her to a chair removed her shoes and stockings and applied the poker until her feet were a mass of burns," and she passed out. The men then ransacked the house, found nothing and left. The sheriff and a posse searched the area but didn't find the men. The victim told the sheriff that a few days before he did have a few hundred dollars in the house, but had mailed it back to relatives in Europe.

Murder in Rohrsburg...
A well-to-do lumber merchant and farmer who lived in the Greenwood Valley near what was commonly referred to as Rohrsburg station was shot and killed on February 3, 1901. About 1 o'clock on a Sunday morning, Thomas McHenry was shot by an unknown person and he died a few hours later. According to the Wilkes-Barre Weekly Times of February 9, 1901, McHenry was aroused from his sleep by a noise in the barn as though his horses were kicking. First he thought it was caused by a young colt, but upon hearing it a second time he arose, dressed and went to his front porch at which time the noise ended. He then went to the barn to investigate. As he neared the barn, about where the corn crib stood, a shot rang out and McHenry fell. The bullet struck just above the heart and passed through his body and out his back slightly lower than where the bullet entered.

His wife heard the shooting and--half dressed--came to his aid. He cried out, "I am shot, I am shot," and attempted to get to the house, but fell on his face in the snow. His wife put his head in her lap and held her husband until help arrived, even though she was still only half-dressed. The oldest son was sent to get help from neighbors. Mr. McHenry's brother, McClellan, arrived and carried the injured man into the house to await medical help, which arrived in the form of Doctors Follmer, Rohrsburg, and Jolly, Orangeville. McHenry never named his murderer before he lapsed into an unconscious state. His wound was fatal and at 6:30 Sunday morning he died.

The barn and the immediate premises were searched as soon as possible. A little snow had fallen early in the evening. In this snow the tracks of a man as if he was running was found leading from the north door of the barn out into the main roadway, then turning southward toward Orangeville. The door on the east side of the barn was found ajar about a foot. A stick that had been pried from the manger stood behind the door. With this stick pounding on the manager the assassin had made the noise that so cleverly imitated the sounds of a restless horse. Just outside of the door a portion of a partially burned wad was found from the discharge of an ancient gun.

The murderer used a gun and not an ordinary pistol according to the size of the bullet wound. The firearm was believed to have been an old style big-bore musket, a larger-size caliber than most modern guns. After the first excitement following the shooting had subsided, efforts were made to track the murderer and he was followed on the ice on the creek a distance of nearly two miles until all traces of his path were lost.

An Orangeville Justice of the Peace, J. M. Hartman, held an inquest impaneling six local men and although readers would no longer know these men by name, they had familiar names: Patterson, Ikeler, Patton, Lemon, Appleman and Bright. When the inquest concluded, the conclusion was that McHenry came to his death from a gunshot wound inflicted by a party or parties unknown to the jury. The investigators concluded that it was a cold-blooded, calculated murder, and that every precaution had been made to make it appear a case of frustrated robbers.

Mrs. McHenry was left with six children, the oldest twelve and the youngest about a year.

The police decided that even his friends were not above suspicion and the district attorney, John Harman, searched Greenwood Valley for the shooter. Several sacks of flour had been taken from the barn and placed outside, so that it appeared that they were forgotten. The killer then sat in wait, and made the noise that awoke Mr. McHenry and drew him to his death. The assassin was tracked, but it was evident that he had no conveyance and could not have taken away any of the spoils of the robbery.

No arrest was immediately made by the authorities and no reasons were given for the murder, but it was rumored that some sensational developments would soon follow.

How was all this resolved you ask? We won't tell you here, but will direct you to the web site of the Greenwood Friends Middle School, Millville, for the answer. You'll find the interesting answer here.

More Rohrsburg...
From a post card sent to Roy Miller, "Rohrsburgh," in 1913. The card reads...
"A Dutchman, addressing his dog, said: 'You vas only a dog, but I wish I vus you. Ven you go mit your bed in you shust turn round dree times and lay down; ven I go mit de bed in I hav to lock up de blace, and wind up de clock and put de cat out, and ondress myself, and my frou vakes up and scolds, den de baby vakes up and cries and I haf to valk him mit de house round, den maybe, ven I get myself to bed, it is time to get up again. Ven, you get up, you shust stretch yourself, dig your neck a leedle and you vas up. I had to light de fire, put on de kettle, scrap some mit my vife already, and get myself breakfast. You play around all day and have blenty of fun. I haf to work all day and haf blenty of drubbble. Ven you die you vas dead; ven I die I haf to go hell yet'."

The Beginning of the End of the Covered Bridges...
• In 1907, the scarcity of lumber drove the Columbia County Commissioners to seek other material for use in the construction of county bridges. Three new bridges in the planning stage "will not have a stick of lumber in them, but will be built almost entirely of concrete," the Commissioners proudly announced. One of the bridges built in 1907 was in Fishing Creek township, an arched culvert; another in Benton township, 27 feet long. The third bridge was in Madison township.

Sickness...
• A quarantine for typhoid fever took place in a large number of homes in Lime Ridge when an epidemic took place in late September, 1910. The epidemic in thirty-five homes perplexed county physicians and State health officers. Many patients were critical and the cause of the illness was a mystery, since there didn't appear to be a common source of food or drink. Physicians worked night and day on the problem. The village ended up in dire need of funds to hire nurses, since most in the village were families of "laboring men." By October 24, the typhoid fever situation was reported by the Philadelphia Inquirer to be "well in hand" and health officials said that all indications were that there was "almost an entire absence of cases from secondary infection." The county was treating 21 cases by late October in a temporary hospital and about the same number in private homes. Over $3,000 was raised from other communities to aid in stamping out the disease.

Hospitals...
• Joseph Ratti was the principal owner and Treasurer of the Bloomsburg Silk Mill. With the help of some friends, Ratti made a residence at 587 East Fifth Street, Bloomsburg, into a three-story hospital and in April, 1905, the building officially became known as the Joseph Ratti Hospital. Ratti purchased the property where the hospital was created from a man by the name of W. L. Ritter for about $4,600. Ratti contributed another $5,000 for improvements. Others contributed about $6,000 for maintenance of the hospital. An addition was made to the building which included plumbing and an elevator. There were two wards on the first floor each with three beds, plus offices, kitchen, dining room, and an emergency room. There was a children’s ward on the second floor as well as some private rooms for patients, operating room and a laboratory. Public wards were on the third floor.

Ratti was quite the guy! In July, 1906, the King of Italy conferred upon Ratti the Order of Knighthood. Ratti died a few months later and then the problems began. The heirs of Mr. Ratti suddenly owned the hospital since the deed for the hospital was never turned over to the hospital corporation. The buildings, grounds and everything connected with the hospital was owned by Mr. Ratti at the time of his death in Italy and then reverted to his heirs. It appeared that Ratti's intention was to deed the property to the hospital, but the necessary paperwork was never signed in order for that to happen.

Ratti's final will was prepared in Italy a few weeks before his death and replaced a previous will that addressed the disposition of the hospital and a church. It came as a huge surprise to the residents of Bloomsburg that the will made no provision for the Joseph Ratti hospital or "St. Columbia's" church, but bequeathed everything to a brother and sister in Italy. As near as his instructions relating to the hospital came were in a clause that read, "I have orally given my brother and sister instructions as to some charitable bequests."

The will, which left everything to the brother and sister, did require that the interest in the silk mill could not be interfered with for two years in order to guard against injury to the other partners by a withdrawal of the Ratti interest in the operation. When the final estate was settled in 1907, the heirs gave the hospital deed to the hospital corporation.

Ratti passed away at the age of sixty-one in October, 1906, in the Italian province of Como, near Milano. Word of his death arrived in Bloomsburg on October 26. Details were sketchy, but residents remembered that Ratti had gone to Italy early in the summer and became ill.

His benevolence was legend. In addition to the contributions to the people of Bloomsburg, he built and maintained a residence for orphans at his home in Italy. He was not only the Mayor of Rogeno, Italy, but he achieved knighthood in one of Italy's most exclusive orders.

The hospital continued in operation after Ratti's death. In October, 1909, physicians and nurses at the Joseph Ratti Hospital were startled and excited to hear in a clear, melodious voice the words of Nearer, My God, to Thee, sung by Mrs Alonzo Monroe, Orangeville, whose death was "momentarily expected." The strains died away as she lapsed into unconsciousness and died soon after.

At a meeting in January, 1910, action was taken looking to the erection of a new building. The Legislature of 1909 had appropriated $5,000 toward a new building. Plans for the building were adopted in 1911, and the contract was awarded to the Shamokin Lumber Company.

In July, 1912, Bloomsburg's new and larger four-story brick hospital opened, just to the west of the old hospital. The hospital corporation decided to change the hospital name to "Bloomsburg Hospital" to "remove the impression of the public that it was a private hospital conducted for personal gain." Bloomsburg’s first two hospital buildings are still located on East Fifth Street but are used as apartment buildings. Bloomsburg today is served by a 78-bed community hospital.

Bad Guys...
• Hiram Shultz was by all accounts a "notorious character." He served numerous jail sentences until May 9, 1911, when the Columbia county Sheriff, William P. Zehner, was shot through the left arm by Shultz who actually had fired at Harry Fowler, Espy. It happened like this: Shultz was married, but separated. On the day of the incident, Shultz visited the home where she was employed as a housekeeper. The wife told Shultz that Fowler was annoying her. Shultz lured Fowler to the house, then started for Fowler as soon as he appeared. Shultz appears to have been a pretty direct fellow. He told Fowler he was going to kill him and to prove it he whipped out a revolver and opened fire. Fowler high-tailed it out of there with Shultz in hot pursuit discharging his pistol five times. Shultz told anyone who stayed around to listen that any officer that got him would get him dead. As the authorities arrived, Shultz zoomed out the front door with the good guys coming in the back. Out across lawns they went, with half of Espy participating. The Sheriff was the first to come upon Shultz. Ordered to stop, Shultz quickly fired twice at the Sheriff standing no more than fifteen feet away. the first shot hit the Sheriff and as Shultz prepared to fire his third shot at the wounded Sheriff the lawman decided it was "now or never" and he began shooting. The officer's first shot was effective and a Deputy Sheriff grabbed Shultz's arm to get the revolver. The pressure on the trigger finger discharged the gun again and Shultz's bullet pierced the cap of a State Trooper. The prisoner and the Sheriff both ended up in the Joseph Ratti Hospital. Shultz was in critical condition and the Sheriff was seriously injured.

• A pillar of the community, William Krickbaum, Bloomsburg, found himself ousted as Columbia county Commissioner in March, 1901, following a decision of a judge of the Columbia county court. Krickbaum was not only a Columbia County Commissioner, he was editor and publisher of the Bloomsburg Daily and the Democratic Weekly Sentinel. One of the charges brought against the man was that he allotted county advertising and printing to his publications. Another charge was that he was a stockholder in the gas, electric and water companies of the town of Bloomsburg from which the county obtained light and water for the jail and court house. The court held that the Commissioners could not award contracts for supplies to any concern in which the Commissioners held a financial interest.

Columbia County's Version of the Wild West...
It isn't always the "wild west" where the action takes place. Mainville saw some action February 6, 1903, when the dynamiting of the post office at 2 in the morning, the firing of a "fusillade of shots" from Frank Werkheiser's revolver, the escape of the burglars and the capture of one of them later made the news of the day. The burglars got into the post office using tools stolen from a blacksmith ship and using nitroglycerin blew open and completely wrecked the safe, stole $60 in postage stamps and $8 in cash. The explosion in the middle of town woke nearly everyone, including Frank Werkheiser. He saw three men fleeing from the smoking building and fired five shots at them. Just like in the old west, a posse was organized and the "men followed to the mountains, where they separated and the trail was lost." About noon, a man was captured at Numidia, and although he denied any involvement in the robbery the postmaster identified him as one of three men who were "loafing around the post office" the previous day. The prisoner said his name was P. Prosser. The police said he had the appearance of "a tramp" and on that basis "was committed to jail" in Bloomsburg.

The burning of the Pharmacy and the Benton Hotel...
The northern end on Columbia county experienced a similar situation in September, 1905, when a school house located between the property owned by John R. Cole and the property owned by Silas Benjamin was destroyed by fire. This made the sixth building destroyed by fire under suspicious circumstances in 1905. The Wilkes-Barre Times in its edition of September 13 reported that the "building, which was comparatively new, was set on fire near the door." On September 13, 1905, the Sugarloaf township school house was set on fire and entirely destroyed, the fifth fire of that kind in Sugarloaf township within the prior three months.

The burning of the barn owned by John R. Cole had been deliberately set in two places. The flames were discovered in time to prevent the destruction of the building. Three weeks previous, a barn owned by Pennington & Seely burned under suspicious circumstances and about five week previous the house owned by a Mr. Snyder in Sugarloaf township was entirely destroyed. The barn of Ira Thomas in Sugarloaf township burned to the ground with everything pointing to arson.

One of the biggest fires in the Borough in recent memory happened on a Friday afternoon on September 26, 1975, during the time of violent flooding of Fishingcreek in a storm referred to as "Eloise." The front wall of the Benton Hotel was left standing but the interior of the hotel was completely gutted and exposed as a result of the wall of the adjacent pharmacy collapsing. Norman Gelb, a Dallas resident, was the owner of the Benton Pharmacy. Both structures were total losses.

During that fire, a portion of the road washed out near Orangeville, Route 487 was cut off at the Friendly Tavern north of the Borough, a Forks cabin owned by Warren Hause, Jr., Berwick, was swept from its foundation, and a section of the dike above the dam washed out, spreading water throughout the Borough.

The origin of the hotel and pharmacy fires was never conclusively proven but the damages were initially estimated to be in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. The blaze was discovered about noon on the fifth day of heavy rainfall. Much of the community was under water and firemen fought the blaze in knee-deep water to save the hotel and adjacent pharmacy, along with offices and apartments within the structures. The fires were not brought under control until about 4 PM.

Pharmacist Norman Gelb and about twenty volunteers moved prescriptions from the burning pharmacy. The proprietor of the hotel was Ronald Coleman, Bloomsburg. He had owned the hotel for about two years and had just completed renovations of the upper levels of the hotel including new carpeting, kitchen cabinets, stainless steel sinks and Formica in the bathrooms. The first floor had been recently remodeled.

The first alarm had been turned in by a volunteer who drove his back-hoe through the flooded Borough streets to the Town Hall on Third Street in order to push the fire alarm. In order to bring the blaze under control, it took National Guard troops from Berwick and the fire companies of Unityville, Benton, Millville, Orangeville and North Mountain. Fay Mika was the only person living in the apartments at the time of the fire. The building also housed the offices of Dr. Liveo Baldia and the CPA firm of Fisher, Clark and Lauer. A garage at the rear of the building rented by Earnest Roberts, a building contractor, was destroyed. The rear shed-like buildings were once part of the Baker & Baker store.

Maureen Longnecker, Rochester, New York, wrote, "The day of the flood/fire, my Dad, Jim Maier, was at Sarah Kline's house." Aunt Sara and Uncle Lee lived next to the Benton Dam, in the house where their grandson Scott Kline now lives. Maureen continued, Jim Maier "went there to put Mrs. Kline's belongings up higher so the flood waters didn't reach them. When he was done, he realized he had waited too long to be able to get out of the house safely. The water was too high and the current too strong for him to attempt wading in it." He called his family and told them he was stuck in the house. Maureen remembers being afraid that he would get hurt, and being so relieved when he came home. At one point he heard a "knocking sound at the back of the house. He was excited because he thought someone had come in a boat to rescue him. When he checked, all he saw was two propane tanks bobbing in the water. They had floated down the alley from a storage area. Dad also spoke of watching out a window while the firemen fought the fire. He told of a scary scene he witnessed when a fireman lost his footing and fell. Another fireman close to him tried to continue holding the hose as best he could, while he grabbed the fireman and tried to keep him from going down the whole way into the water. Dad said it was so ironic to see firemen standing in water, trying to put out a fire, having to battle both fire and flood."

Speakeasies in Columbia County...
Eleven state troopers rounded up speakeasies in "dry" west Berwick and Briar Creek townships in early November, 1917. Twenty houses of "foreigners" were raided, as the Wilkes-Barre Times Leader put it. Forty were arrested and the police rounded up enough booze to fill "ten auto trucks." A state trooper had been living among West Berwick "foreigners" collecting evidence. The raids were made "over the heads of the west Berwick officers" and were conducted so quietly with the troopers working in their cars along with three other groups that they were well under way before it was realized what happened. Doors were smashed in where resistance was offered. Some of the women in the raided houses locked the doors and went to bed, but were hauled out in their night clothes and taken to the police station.

Travel Outside of Columbia County...
• Take the family from West Hemlock Township who in 1911 trekked westward 1,800 miles and made the trip in 33 days. Jesse Heller, his wife and two-year old daughter, his father and a family friend started from West Hemlock for Grand Falls, Minnesota, using three wagons and five horses. The object was to “take up government land in Minnesota. The travelers cooked their own meals along the way and slept in the wagons.

• A part-time resident of Jamison City is Roy M. Davis, a newspaper columnist in Michigan. Roy wrote an article entitled Traveling Without Maps. In Roy's article, which I will paraphrase with Roy's permission, he reminisces about the days when there were no maps to guide travelers. He specifically talked about his "Aunt Hope Merrill" in 1913 when she packed her Mom in her used Model T--complete with convertible top and side curtains--and started out from Illinois to the "mountains of Pennsylvania from whence came her forbearers."

Margaret David, or "Hope" as most knew her, was the daughter of a circuit-riding Methodist minister in the mountains of east Central Pennsylvania. "After losing his wife, the minister packed his Bible in his saddlebag, and headed his horse west to start a new life." He settled in Illinois where he remarried and where his daughter, Hope, was born.

Because of his advancing age, he did not live to see his new daughter grow to be a woman. Hope and her Mom had to face the world and make their way. Hope became a teacher and started her career, but she never forgot the mountains of home and family.

Summers during her childhood, she and her Mom traveled by train to visit relatives in the Benton area. She loved the rolling fruit land around Waller, and roamed the countryside with her cousin, Arthur Cole. One day while exploring they found a wasps' nest hanging in a tree. About the size of a basketball, it was something Hope just had to have. The occupants had fortunately left, so she got Arthur to climb and knock it down. And she brought it back to Illinois in a hat box for "show and tell" at her school.

"In 1913, Hope, grown up, had become a teacher. She had bought the Ford, and summer vacation stretched ahead. So she packed their suitcases, put her Mom in the car and started east. There were no road maps and very few paved highways out in the country. Undaunted, Hope found her way, stopping to ask directions and talking to natives and other travelers."

When they got into the Endless Mountains of Pennsylvania, "the trip became more daunting. Her Ford had traveled many miles, and the transmission bands were starting to slip. They came to a mountain road so steep her little car refused to climb it. After trying several times, she sat at the bottom thinking what to do next." Then came salvation in the form of another traveler, a man all by himself. He pulled to the side of the road and asked, 'Having a problem?'"

Hope answered, "Yes, with my Mom and all of our luggage this car will just not make it to the top!"

The man said, "If you will let your Mom ride up with me, and put your suitcases in the back, then you can turn around and back up the road. Your reverse band is probably not as worn." Hope did exactly that--the man looked honest; and when she reached the top, carefully backing all the way, there he was waiting for her so they could continue.

"Another day as they traveled along, Hope could see a storm approaching--dark clouds, and she knew it would be a bad one. They were passing farms in the gathering twilight, and finally they saw a huge barn, just filled with new-cut hay. The farmhouse was quite a distance off, so Hope drove right in between the hay mows as rain began to pelt down and lightning strode across the hills."

They stayed there all night, her Mom sleeping on the car seat. Hope took a robe, stretched it out on the hay and both drifted off. In morning light, crowing roosters awakened them to a blue and gold day. They packed up, started the car, and were on their way before the farmer came out to do his chores.

Later, back in Illinois, Hope David fell in love, and married Edson Harder. He was an older man and Roy's Mom's uncle. Hope Harder became Roy Davis' Mom's Aunt and by extension Roy's sister, Wilma, and Roy had a great Aunt.

Shortly after the great depression, Edson's health failed. On his death bed, he held Hope's hand and said to her, "At least I am leaving you well off with the stocks and bonds I have." Hope didn't have the heart to tell him the companies had failed and the stock was worthless.

Roy Davis' Mom's brother, Roy Merrill (for whom Roy Davis was named), and his wife, Aunt Lil, were great friends of Hope and Edson. They got together for card games on Saturday nights. As time went on, Aunt Lil's health failed and she passed away. Edson was also gone. The card games and get-togethers continued and Uncle Roy and Great Aunt Hope fell in love. They were joined in holy matrimony in 1940. Thus, Roy Merrill married his aunt (by marriage), and Roy Davis' Mom's aunt became her sister-in-law.

In later years, they bought a vacation place--an old house on the main street in Jamison City. And thus Roy Davis became able to visit them and find the place they came to love and still visit. Roy looks forward to the coming of warm weather and a return to the Jamison City house.

Thar's Gold in Them Thar Farms…
• In April, 1900, Farmer Oscar Ohl, Scott Township, discovered where burglars who had been operating in Columbia County for some time were hiding their loot. When Farmer Ohl went through his stable he discovered a large amount of booty, evidently placed there by burglars. Much of what was found was from robberies reported in the local area.

• Farmer J. C. Shuman, Main Township, made a lucky purchase of a farm early in 1900 from a man by the name of John J. Gearhart. While Farmer Shuman was making repairs in an old out-kitchen, he discovered a big bag of gold and silver secreted in the foundation. Shuman refused to divulge the amount. From the appearance the Philadelphia Inquirer concluded the money had been in its hiding place for years.

Malpractice Suits, 1913 style…
• Henry Brown started a suit in Bloomsburg against Dr. H. V. Hower and Dr. Frank Drum, Mifflinville, in when he asked $25,000 damages for the alleged “negligence, carelessness, ignorance and unskillfulness” of the physicians in reducing a fracture of his leg, sustained when a horse kicked him. The leg ended up being “bow shaped,” and X-ray pictures showed a faulty union of the bone. The plaintiff sought to prove that Drum was practicing without having passed the state-board examination, but Judge Evans sustained the defense’s objection, taking the position that it was not material to the case at issue. Doctor Bunnell, Conyngham, chief medical expert for the plaintiff, collapsed on the witness stand.

There are many more stories to tell of Columbia county and I'll continue when the spirit moves me. If you have a favorite story about your favorite place to live send it to the Benton News. Please indicate whether I can publish your name or whether you want the story told anonymously.

Stories of Columbia County Told Over the Past Hundred or So Years

Stories of Columbia County
Told Over the Past Hundred or So Years