As it were
Vicious storm wrecked 1906 July 4 festivities

Thursday, June 29, 2006


The Fourth of July was not celebrated in Columbus 100 years ago in quite the same way it is today.

Our modern festivities tend to center on rather large and elaborate fireworks celebrations such as the Red, White and Boom! extravaganza in Columbus and similarly large events in various neighborhoods, villages and towns in central Ohio on the holiday itself.

In addition, families, groups and organizations hold gatherings of their own.

One-hundred years ago, things were done a bit differently. In fact, in 1906, many people were thankful anything was being done at all, because the most striking event of the holiday occurred not on the Fourth but on the day before.

In a day before color radar and the other technological marvels of modern meteorology, weather forecasting was -- to say the least -- a little less definite than it is today. Some forecasts for July 3, 1906, predicted fair weather. Others mentioned the possibility of rain.

The others were right.

At 6 p.m. on July 3, a fast-moving storm moved through Columbus. Sustained winds in excess of 50 miles per hour pounded the capital city for more than 20 minutes, accompanied by three-quarters of an inch of rain.

Damage was extensive. A 20-foot section of the roof of a three-story building at Gift and Broad streets in Franklinton was ripped away and the contents of six apartments and two stores were drenched in rain.

At the corner of Warren and Summit streets on the near North Side, the roof of a five-unit apartment building was lifted off the structure and flipped into the street. Three major circuits at the city's electric light plant went out and 450 street lights went dark for the rest of the evening.

At Russell and High streets, the sewers backed up into the street so deeply that passing streetcars sent the "wash" over the sidewalks and up against the counters of nearby stores. And a telephone pole at Park and Goodale shorted and caught fire.

The rain that followed put out the fire on the burning pole. And in the words of one newspaper, "Many narrowly escaped injury from falling signs in the downtown portions of the city."

All in all, it was an interesting evening, indeed.

Remarkably, the newspapers of the next day make relatively little mention of the storm. Partly, this was undoubtedly due to the fact that no one was killed or seriously injured and damage across the city was not irreparable.

And it was, after all, the Fourth of July.

Even if the people of Columbus did not gather together as much as they might today at community fireworks exhibitions, this did not mean that they celebrated any less heartily. Most people had the whole day off and most major stores and businesses were closed for the holiday. Trains, streetcars and interurbans were all busy as people fled the city for family or social gatherings at amusement parks, nature areas, or private homes.

The Salvation Army held a picnic at the Indianola Park amusement center. The Red Men of Linden Heights spent the day in the woods near Minerva Park at their own picnic, and "the Columbus Gun Club had a big shoot at its grounds near Arlington."

If one wanted to travel a little further afield, the annual regatta and boat show at Buckeye Lake drew hundreds of spectators.

On a somewhat simpler note, most of the major institutions in Columbus held celebrations of their own. Prisoners at the Ohio Penitentiary had the "privilege of the yard" for the entire day.

At noon, a large dinner was served and prisoners and their friends were permitted to spend the afternoon on the lawn, listening to the prison band. Guards at the prison had their hands full keeping the party from getting out of hand.

In the course of searching guests before their entrance to the grounds, they confiscated five gallons of whisky, hundreds of cigars and cigarettes and "enough firecrackers ... to have started a powder factory."

Similar celebrations were held at the Columbus State Hospital, the Institution for the Feeble-Minded, the County Infirmary and the Columbus Children's Home. In most cases, sporting events were followed by picnics and fireworks in the evening. Many local churches also held services to commemorate the holiday.

A bit of local news related to the holiday dealt with the flag. Oklahoma had recently joined the Union and most flags flown or carried in the city reflected this fact and carried 46 stars.

But the soldiers at Fort Hayes claimed that the new flag would not become official for another year and continued to fly their 45-star flag. Local newspapers also welcomed another competitor to their midst: The Ohio Sun began publication on July 4 as a morning paper.

But the major news on the Fourth and the day after -- as usual -- dealt with fireworks. Firecrackers, rockets, salutes and even small amounts of black powder were cheaply and readily obtained by the youth of Columbus in seemingly endless quantities. Beginning with the dawn on the Fourth of July, they began to be set off. Police did not try to stop the explosions in general but rather stationed themselves near hospitals and public institutions to try to keep the noise in those areas down to a dull roar. They were apparently marginally successful in doing so.

The newspapers noted on the following day that fortunately, no one was killed by exploding fireworks, but there were some close calls.

A total of 29 persons were injured by fireworks, with the worst injury suffered by 10-year-old Perry Tracy of West Main Street, who was blinded by a premature explosion. Ultimately, more stringent control of fireworks and their use would reduce this carnage, but in 1906, that safer day was still far in the future.

In the meantime, most people, as they do today, enjoyed time with friends and family, and paused to remember who they had been and who they were.

One difference, however, was that many people in 1906 stopped in at the Busy Bee store on North High to buy a quart of their special Fourth of July Neapolitan Ice cream. It was a blend of vanilla, peach and pistachio ice creams with pineapple sherbet and cost 50 cents a quart.

With flags and fireworks, it is with ice cream of that sort that memories are made.

Happy Fourth of July!

Ed Lentz writes a history column for ThisWeek.



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