Yellow Springs Historical Society

Many thanks to Mike Hughes, son of long-serving mayor of Yellow Springs Leo Hughes, for permitting the Historical Society to share his recollections.

The Forces at 132 North Walnut Street

One of my “most unforgettable characters” who influenced my childhood in Yellow Springs was born in 1862. She had a reputed checkered past which included entertaining wayward gentlemen, to becoming a derelict in her 80’s. On May 2, 1946, my father, Leo, rescued her from a certain demise. After six months of exhaustive rehabilitation, she again became a “respected” member of the community. This is her story seen through my eyes from my birth until I departed for college.

I knew but one home for my first 18 years. It was the place where I would learn to walk, to read, to drop bricks on my older brother John’s head and to play solitary 9-inning games of whiffle ball pitting the lineups of the Cincinnati Redlegs against their rival St. Louis Cardinals. Since I was a somewhat reclusive young lad, I spent more time at home with my imaginary friend, Chiefy Cocoa, than my kindergarten mates. When my brother left for Dartmouth College when I was 14, I became an “only child” even though I had already functioned as one for nearly a decade. However, thanks to a vivid imagination, our Federal-style brick house and small backyard which surrounded me, I was never lonely.

As I became interested in sports, in an effort to tag along with my older brother, I used all of the resources of our relatively diminutive backyard to hone my athletic skills as a solo participant. Our back yard became, during various sporting seasons: a high jump and long jump arena, a football field, a golf course with two closely mown greens and a pint-sized Crosley Field (Cincinnati’s famous baseball park). Most important of all was the basketball hoop mounted on our garage at the end of the driveway. From October to March, the incessant sound of a dribbled basketball could be heard up and down North Walnut Street.

Our front porch and foyer had quite a history as well. On nights long after I had climbed the stairs to my bedroom, there would be occasional visits from Chief of Police, Jimmy McKee. He would usually be accompanied by a citizen who had been involved in a domestic squabble or who had “disturbed the peace”. Rather than take the wayward parties to Court on Monday night, the Chief brought them to receive “counseling” from my father, the Mayor. From the top of the stairs, I listened to the low tones emanating from the porch or foyer which usually lasted about 30 minutes. Usually, I would find out the next morning at breakfast that another “case” had been settled without any need for sentencing or the payment of fines.

But it was the upstairs of the house that generated the most provocative stories. There were four upstairs corner bedrooms as is customary for a Federal architectural design. My bedroom was in the northwest corner. It had a view of the backyard and a clear view of the sky to the west. There were often Air Force planes from Wright Patterson AFB which were visible from my bedroom window. The recurring dream which always resulted in me awakening in a nervous sweat was probably inspired by Sunday night viewings of “The Twentieth Century” which was a weekly documentary of battle scenes from World War II, narrated by venerable Walter Cronkite. The footage that seemed to infiltrate my subconscious was the bombing of London and the retaliation of squadrons of Allied planes dropping bombs on German targets. My dream consisted of me looking out my window to see dozens of German bombers flying overhead about to drop bombs on Yellow Springs, a strategic target due to its proximity to Wright Patterson.

One of the mysteries which was part of the house’s lore were the numbers 1 thru 4 carved into each of the bedroom doors. My mother explained that the house had been used as a hotel when it was built during the Civil War. It was not until I was visiting our neighbor, Bobbi Marshall, after I was released from active U. S. Navy duty, that she showed me a recently published booklet about the storied houses of Yellow Springs which provided an alternate explanation for the rooms to be numbered. According to the story, the house had been a well-known brothel during the Civil War era and one of the mistreated women of ill-repute stayed on after her premature demise to torment male visitors with her ghostly presence. Apparently, my childhood innocence may have been dangerously close to sinister influences. I give thanks to my playmate Chiefy Cocoa’s strong Native American presence which may have been just the protective spirit I needed to keep me safe and sound at notorious 132 North Walnut Street.

Although these two newspaper clippings did not include the year the were published, a good guess can be made from the age of Samuel Cox in the first article, who would have been 90 in 1923.

Dutch elm disease wiped out most of the elms in the 1950s, and Yellow Springs is fortunate to have the Yellow Springs Tree Committee to advise on tree selection and care and assistance with planting tribute trees.

YELLOW SPRINGS CLAIMS TO HAVE LARGEST ELM TREE IN THE WORLD

YELLOW SPRINGS, O., Nov. 17.—An elm tree declared by one botanist to be the largest known tree of the species in the world stands in Walnut st., Yellow Springs. Although the tree was there long before the town, the tree still retains its vigor, and today is a healthy, growing specimen.

Samuel Cox, 90, Yellow Springs’s oldest living citizen, who has lived here all his life, said the tree was old when he first remembered seeing it.

“That big elm tree,” said Mr. Cox, “was here long before Yellow Springs. There was nothing here much except the postoffice in 1846, when the railroad was built. The big tree was part of a timber line which marked the boundary of the old Yellow Springs Hotel place. This house, a summer resort, was owned by Elisha Mills, father of Judge William Mills, whose gift of twenty acres of land determined the location of Antioch college. Dr. Elihu Thorn bought the plot on which the tree stands and built the house in which John Birch now lives, in 1849. About ’53, while the college was being built, Walnut st. was opened up, and since then the big elm has been cared for by the town.”

Mr. Cox also said that although the tree was still in an excellent state of preservation and had never required much attention, the village council has had it trimmed several times and had cut away several other trees to enhance its prominence.

The council, however, did not know that it was the largest tree of its kind in the world. This fact was learned by accident. Elmer E. McCaslin, a former resident, who now lives in St. Louis, learned this when one of his children read it in a botany text book in use in one of the St. Louis high schools. It is believed that the measurements on which this statement is based were made by Prof. Crum, once connected with the department of botany at Antioch. The tree is about eighty feet in height and eleven feet in circumference.

YELLOW SPRINGS HAS LARGEST ELM TREE IN THE WORLD

YELLOW SPRINGS, O., Nov. 6.—Yellow Springs boasts the largest elm tree in the world.

Elmer E. McCaslin of St. Louis is authority for the statement. Mr. McCaslin, who is a brother-in-law of Dr. L. L. Taylor, local physician, says that one of his children, while studying botany in a St. Louis public school ran across the statement in a textbook that the largest specimen of the elm tree in the world was in Walnut st., in Yellow Springs, O. The McCaslins formerly lived here and knew the tree well. It stands in the parkway in Walnut st., adjacent to the house now occupied by Mrs. John Birch.

Some of the oldest citizens of the village say that the tree has been the same size as long as they can remember, and accordingly estimate its age as several hundred years.

With 90 degree temperatures in the offing we are asked to conserve what we usually take for granted, so it seems appropriate to take a look at how we got here with our village utilities, as laid out in an article from the 1956 Centennial edition of the Yellow Springs News. Bear in mind that Gaunt Park was the site of the village dump at that time.

Town Pump First Utility; Now Have 1.5-Million System

From a single town pump, financed by the infant village in the 1860’s, to a system of service facilities valued at more than $1,350,000 is the history of utilities in Yellow Springs during the first century of its incorporation.

The first municipality owned and operated utilities were the muscle powered water pumps and coal oil (kerosene) or gasoline street lights. Today the village owns electric, water and sewage systems and operates a garbage collection and disposal service.

Many Town Pumps

Residents of the pre-waterworks day eventually could fill their buckets at a number of pumps throughout the village, including Walnut and Cliff Sts., Walnut and Dayton Sts., Davis and Stafford Sts., Xenia Avenue where Deaton’s Hardware is now, Dayton St. and Xenia Ave., Xenia Ave. and Woodrow St. and Marshall and Livermore Sts.

The first streetlights were erected here in 1878. A variety of fuels were used, ranging from kerosene to gasoline to coal oil. Regardless of the fuel, the method of operation was the same. The village hired a man—the fabled lamp-lighter—to refuel and light the lamps each night.

This got to be a bit of a chore for the man with his cart, for by 1896 there were over 100 streetlights in operation.

Electricity in 1910

Although there were bond issues (unsuccessful) and demands for a waterworks thirty years or so before a pumping plant was installed here, the electric utility was the first of the modern-day utilities established.

The first electric power used here was turned on April 28, 1910, snapping electricity into 60 carbon-filament streetlights and the newly-wired Opera House. The power arrangement was paid for through a $6,000 bond issue.

The post office and a number of downtown business houses were the next in line to receive electric power.

At that time, the village was receiving electricity from a small Cedarville power plant. In 1915, the Cedarville plant sold out to the Dayton Power and Light Co., which fed the power to the distributing system here.

In 1930 the contract with the DP&L expired and the village bought electricity from the power plant at Antioch College, which had been supplying some of its own power and added more generators to service the village.

By 1937, the load was increasing to the point that the college bought a 300 horsepower diesel engine to double the plant capacity.

But in 1948, the power needs of the village grew too large for the college plant and a contract was again signed with the Dayton power company.

1165 Electricity Users

Today there are 1165 homes and businesses in the village supplied with electricity.

The electric distribution utility here is not taxed. But the assessment for government purposes recently estimated the value of the utility at $775,000.

In the early days streetlights burned only until midnight, when the power was turned off and the few late-living residents dropped into darkness. Later, power was turned on Monday mornings as well as at sundown, so that housewives with new electric washing machines might do the week’s wash.

Eventually, electrical gadgetry became so advanced that a clock was rigged to turn the streetlights on and off, the lights burned all night and electricity was supplied to homes 24 hours a day.

Long before the first switch was thrown in the Yellow Springs electric system, there were movements for a waterworks here to supply pure water and adequate fire protection. But it was not until 1927 that a $52,000 bond issue for building a water works and mains was approved by voters.

Wells “Filthy” in 1881

Way back in February of 1891 local doctors, professors and students cried “filth” after investigation of public wells. A letter to the REVIEW editor demanded a “pure water supply system.” The doctor maintained that only “cast iron stomachs” had saved the town from ruination and epidemic. That fall, the village council discussed the costs of a standpipe and pump. The REVIEW editor commented then “talk is cheap—but there will very likely be more than talk in the future.”

In 1895, following several block-gutting fires, the village citizens considered a waterworks in special elections. It was repeatedly turned down. One election—on Oct. 4, 1895—saw the waterworks proponents lose their battle by one vote. With 171 votes for a $23,000 waterworks operation and 87 against, the waterworks proponents were one vote shy of the necessary two thirds majority.

Passage was not secrued until the 1920’s.

Waterworks in 1928

In 1927 work was started on the first part of the village waterworks, with a pumphouse at Whitehall Farm. On Sept. 28, 1928, the first tap was made at Whitehall.

The village water utility is now valued at an estimated $300,000. There are now two well fields, the original station north of the village and the other built in 1953 to the southeast on the Faye Funderburg farm. The latest wellfield cost about $18,000 for boring operations and pumping machinery.

There is one 100,000 gallon storage tank (on High St.), as well as machinery to pump, filter and chlorinate the water. Daily water consumption generally runs between 300,000 and 500,000 gallons. The two pumping stations can reach a capacity of about 800,000 gallons a day.

Sanitary Sewers in 1938

The sewage system is a recent development, turned over to the village board of Public Affairs only July 1, 1938, after completion. But outdoor privies had already been outlawed in the village in the 1860’s although the law was not observed.

The total cost of the system came to about $130,000, with a direct village appropriation of $32,000. Most of the work was done as a New Deal Works Project. Administration project. With $96,000 in WPA attributed.

The site for the disposal plant was donated by Hugh Taylor Birch after Glen Helen was proposed as possible sites. Birch also donated $8,200 to cover the extra cost involved in putting the disposal site at its present site rather than in the glen.

The college contributed its system to the village utility, retaining a $6,000 outstanding debt on its system and contributing another $1,388 for obtaining right of way and title to the land used for the disposal plant.l

The sewage system, including the disposal plant, is currently valued for tax purposes at $275,000.

Present plans call for moving the plan down the hill into Glen Helen, as soon as finances permit. The move would eliminate the need of a pumping station to pump the sewage uphill.

Garbage Collection Begun

The subject of municipal garbage collection was first brought up in village council here in 1929, six years after the village dump was opened. It was not until Feb. 29, 1954, that the first official garbage collection was made with a spanking-new garbage packer truck.

The village had pretty well filled its dump by 1954 and according to a statement made by Kahoe at that time, “we now have to do otherwise than in the past.”

Since 1954 garbage collections have been hauled to the Xenia land-fill. The village council has now budgeted for a new disposal site and lawyers are now working on condemning and buying the property.

Funds have also been budgeted for purchase of a new, larger packer truck. The budget call for purchase next year.