Elkton, Back to the Future — Oct. 21, 2015, was Back to the Future Day, and lots of towns celebrated in tribute to the 30th anniversary of the legendary Back to the Future film starring Michael J. Fox. In it Fox travels 30 years into the future, October 21, 2015.
All that talk about time travel reminded us of a message pinned on the back of a postcard we saw some years ago in the Historical Society of Cecil County collection.
The image showed the Cecil County Courthouse at the corner of Main and North streets in Elkton. On the back it said: “Purchased at Frazer’s Drug Store Saturday, December 21, 1935, 9:30 -p.m.; temperature 18 degrees F. Purchase made at the suggestion of my friend Ralph Jeffers and that we look at them again, December 21, 1965, to refresh our memory as to the appearance of the town, as of 1935. G. Reynolds Ash.”
Picture postcards are wonderful and often the messages scrawled on the back are important too. While we don’t have a photo of that corner in 1965, here is one we snapped on Oct. 21, 2015. This is about the way the scene would have appeared in 1965 (minus the cars).
The Civil War cast a long, troubling shadow over the nation, the healing going on for generations. In addition to the damage done to the nation, it also altered the lives of many young soldiers. In the horrifying aftermath of this great conflict, those who returned home, having experienced carnage, bloodshed, and death, were changed people as they coped with the personal trauma of these experiences and memories.
A Troubled Civil War Soldier, James H. Andrews, Spent Nearly 40 Years of his life in Jail. (Source: Adams County Independent, Aug. 30, 1907)
Whether the tragedies of some of these men were caused by the emotional trauma they experienced – having come face-to-face with gruesome scenes they could have never imagined — or some personal affliction is hard to say. Still, worry-some behavior occasionally manifested itself in complex and troubling ways. These unfortunate cases aren’t usually presented in the local narratives, but here is the tragic story of one troubled Civil War soldier.
Born in Chesapeake City in May 1844, James H. Andrews served in the Union Army during the Civil War with credit for two years, according to newspaper accounts. But after being furloughed to come back home to visit his mother, he overstayed his leave and was listed as a deserter at Wilderness, Va., in May 1864. As he told the story, while returning to duty, he got drunk in Baltimore and was late returning but had no intention of “deserting the old flag.”
A recruiting tent in a New York Park. (Source: National Civil War Museum of Medicine)
The war seems to have affected him, for sources said he became eccentric and unbalanced. In 1869 officers arrested Andrews, and a jury convicted him of attempting to assault a young lady in the Chesapeake City Area. After serving a one-year sentence, he was released but got into similar trouble in the Warwick area. This time the jury declared that he was insane and unfit to be at large. He was sent to Baltimore for treatment but soon escaped. After that, he was returned to the Elkton Jail.
Beginning a Life Behind Bars
The enlistment paper for James Andrews. The 21-year-old enlisted on Aug. 18, 1862.
These incidents began life behind bars, mostly at the Cecil County Jail, except for the escapes he made. When he fled, he usually headed to Washington or Annapolis to speak with the president or the governor about his military commission as a general and his pension. Once, he was on his way to Annapolis to talk the matter over with the governor when a lawman arrested him for vagrancy. This charge sent him to the Maryland House of Corrections, but there a fellow prisoner from Cecil County recognized Jim and notified Sheriff William J. Smith. The sheriff soon had him back in the Elkton lock-up. Another time, he was sent to an institution in Baltimore to treat his delusions, but he soon escaped there, only to be returned to Elkton.
He ended up spending half of his life in the Elkton Jail, except for those brief jailbreaks. The nearly 40 years was “the longest time for any person in the United States to spend in jail,” according to the Cecil Democrat.1 He occupied a cell on the upper tier of the jail and had it fixed up to suit his taste. The old soldier was a great lover of pets and had white rats, white mice, dogs, cats, rabbits, and other kinds of pets and always took pride in dividing his food with them. For years, he longed for a blacksnake but was unable to get one 2
Seeking His General’s Commission
Old Jim enjoyed writing letters. Part of his delusion was someone trying to take his general’s commission from him and his veteran’s pension. Those matters often occupied his pen. But many others received letters, such as Magistrate Sasse of Wilmington. He wanted the magistrate to put the wheels of justice in motion against Clint Mackey, Gus Johnson, Polk Racine, Old Sam, and the deputy sheriff. “Don’t give any of them any bail, and you commit the deputy sheriff to jail, too, if he comes over to Delaware,” he told the official.
Sometimes the county commissioners received petitions. At one point, he asked the commissioners to free him as they had spent $4,000 to $5,000 on the old man and he was now ready to settle down. At one point, he took a fancy that he was the jail barber, and for his services for shavings, soap, and towels, he billed the county commissioners $700. 3
Jim resided behind those bars when two prisoners were hanged. Waters’ ghost wasn’t long in getting back to the jail, if Jim Andrews was to be believed, the Cecil Whig wrote. He reported hearing someone in the vacant death cell late at night following the execution. When the county hangman executed Alfred Stout in the jail yard in 1893, Jim became convinced the deputies were conspiring to hang him, too. He immediately took to his pen and paper, outlining the full scheme hatched by the lawmen and requesting counsel.
Finally, in 1907, Sheriff Biddle recommended Andrews’ liberation with the inmate growing old and unable to support himself as his health failed. When Sheriff Kirk assumed charge and learned about the “old man of the prison,” he too went to work to have the life-long prisoner released to spend his final days at the county almshouse. “On Saturday night, the old veteran, for he was a veteran in the Union Army during the Civil War, was taken to the county home near Cherry Hill by Deputy Sheriff Myron Miller,” the Cecil Democrat reported 4.
Deputy Miller took the old man who had lived most of his adult life behind bars around town, allowing him to see now unfamiliar views before they headed to the poorhouse. “To get out in the open world was almost a revelation to Andrews. Although he had been familiar with the surrounding part of the county in his younger days and had attended many dances between here and Cherry Hill, the country seemed to be very strange to him.” 2
Troubled Civil War Soldier Pardoned by Death
The Cecil County Potter’s Field.
In Jail for nearly 40 years years, old Jim Andrews was finally “given a pardon at least by Death,” The Baltimore Sun reported on April 25, 1908. He was about 74 years old. “He served in the Union Army during the strife between the north and south and did credit to himself and country for about two years,” the Philadelphia Inquirer added.5
He is buried at the Cecil County Potter’s Field near Cherry Hill. Old Jim served under nineteen different sheriffs. About seven years before his death, he suffered a stroke of paralysis, which left him in a more or less helpless condition.
A Mason Dixon Stone on the road from Elkton to Glasgow, after standing nearly a hundred and nineteen years, “yielded to the action of the elements and fell over” on the ground in William Fowler’s wheat field on the farm of the late Andrew McIntire, the Cecil Democrat reported in 1885. The ground is slightly inclined in the field where it stood and for many years, it leaned to the southward until finally a year or two ago it fell over, the paper added.1
Would it not be well for the county commissioners or some of our public-spirited citizens to re-erect the stone in Mr. Flower’s field, the editor inquired. Or “if this is impracticable, is it not the duty of the Executive of the State to cause it to be done at the public expense, or if it not the duty of none of these officials, it might by the Commissioner of the Land Office could be persuaded to do what nobody else would?”
At all events, it should be the duty of somebody to see that these old time-honored, moss-covered relics of a generation which has passed away should not be allowed to be lost and the places which knew once be brought to know them no more,” the editor declared.
When the modern dual highway, Route 40, opened at the Delaware State Line on June 26, 1941, the News Journal noted that the old boundary marker, which designated the state division when Delaware was still part of Pennsylvania, was found. The paper added that the stone would be placed in the grass plot that separates the dual lanes.2
One hundred thirty-four years later, on Dec. 14, 2019, we stopped to visit this 18th-century stone, the one the editor wanted to be preserved as a relic of the past. Although someone must have heard the editor’s plea and reset it, the passage of centuries has been particularly hard on this important stone.
The Mason-Dixon Monument Today
Today, it is barely visible, and the top part of the monument is missing, perhaps having been struck by an automobile. Too, the decades of exposure to passing traffic, snowplows, lawnmowers, and the weather have taken a toll. But the stone’s capital P on the Delaware side (Delaware was part of Pennsylvania when the line was drawn) and the M on the Maryland side are visible, marking the border of the two states.
In the 21st century, others have taken on the role of serving as advocates for the Mason-Dixon Monument at the edge of the Williams Chevrolet property in Elkton. The Pencader Heritage Association in Delaware is trying to get it preserved, so it does not disappear.
According to Keith Jackson, the stone was moved when Route 40 was widened. “Pencader has been trying to get the states’ attention for a couple of years with little success. Jackson is now attempting to get other like-minded organizations on board to help pressure officials to do something. The Susquehanna Chapter of Maryland Society of Surveyors recently signed on to help,” Cecil Whig reported.3
A Mason Dixon Monument alongside Route 40 between Elkton and Glasgow.
CHIEF THOMAS N. MCINTIRE, JR. (1925 – 2019) – Saturday morning) we were saddened to hear of the passing of Chief Thomas N. McIntire, Jr. Born in Elkton on January 16, 1925, the 94-year-old died peacefully at home on Dec. 14. 2019.
Chief McIntire (on right) talks with Gaylord Moody (left) and Joe McDonough at the Singerly Listening Station on Sept. 13, 2015.
Coming of age at a time that demanded an enormous sacrifice from the nation’s youth, he served in the U.S. Navy during World War II. During those troubling times, the young man with a strong sense of heritage, duty, and sacrifice in the service of others also joined the Singerly Fire Company, being appointed a probationary member on May 4, 1942. After returning home from the Navy, he rose through the ranks of the fire department serving as assistant chief for many years in the decades that followed.
The World War II Veteran, moreover, started on the crime beat in August 1951 as a patrolman for the Elkton Police Department. At a time when the Town wanted to move forward with modernizing its police force, the mayor and commissioners appointed him Chief of Police in 1962. After successfully guiding the law enforcement agency into the modern era of police work, the chief retired in 1980. Although he stepped away from police work, he was not ready to retire; a second career in the criminal justice system as the supervising District Court Commissioner awaited him.
In the fire department, Chief McIntire was second in command at some of Maryland’s largest disasters. On a Sunday night in December 1963, a Pan American Jet crashed at the edge of town, taking 81 lives. The Chief rushed to the scene with Chief slaughters and the Elkton firefighters. Once it was determined that there were no survivors and the rescue response turned into a days-long recovery operation, the chief returned to town. There he coordinated the response of the officers taking care of pressing needs around the edge of the debris field. Traffic jammed all the roads in town, the FBI was coming in, a morgue had to be set-up, and a perimeter established,” the chief recalled during an interview with the Singerly Listening Station a few years ago.
Chief McIntire (center) and Chris Knuth, the son of the pilot of Flight 214, visit the site of the plane crash during filming by a BBC crew in 2004. Chief McIntire is describing the situation he observed that evening for Chris. (Cecil Whig Photo, Jan. 19, 2004, Given)
Another time in October 1965, a fireball loomed high up into the sky at the edge of the town, almost looking like a mushroom cloud. “A freight train containing chemical and petroleum tankers jumped the tracks and there was an enormous explosion. We had to evacuate a portion of the town because of the fear of explosions and the size of that fire,” the chief recalled.
Chief McIntire taught many in the next generation the ropes in fire suppression as they started riding the backstep of an engine and grabbing hoses to rush inside burning buildings for the first time. As a junior officer and assistant chief, he was often at their side, passing along the practical skills of a veteran, Navy firefighter to a new group of rookies. The Chief’s strong leadership style developed the generation that was coming on in the 1960s.
In addition to rushing to take charge of all types of Elkton emergencies for most of his adult life, the chief also served the fire company in many administrative posts, including as a director, vice-president, and long-term chairman of the annual stockholders meeting.
Leaving a long-lasting legacy of public service and commitment to the community, pursuits he stuck with since his teenage ages, the chief had a central role in protecting the community for over half-a-century. He is remembered as a dedicated public servant, a great leader, a friend, and a boss by many. Chief you will be missed.
On Sept. 13, 2015, Chief McIntire takes a break for lunch after talking to the Singerly Listening Station.
PILOT TOWN SCHOOL — Youngsters in the vicinity of the eight-district village of Pilot Town attended this school, which was located on the southwest corner of Pilot Town and Bell Manor Road. On May 31, 1859, a school for this vicinity came into the county system, when George W. Gillespie sold a three-quarter acre lot to the school commissioners for $10.
The door to the schoolhouse closed for the last time on May 28, 1954, and the building was sold to James L. Dishman for $1,150 on May 23, 1955.
The last teacher to serve there was Eula Lee Bartlett. Other teachers included: Ellen B. Shannon (1900), Beulah Creswell (1909), Erma V. Smith (1910), Jessie Bruce (1914), Marguerite Zimmers (1919), Edna S. Pierce (1926), and Dolly King (1927).
Once Mis Bartlett dismissed the youngsters for the summer of 1954, it marked the end of the one-room school in Cecil County, ending an era in the history of education in the county, according to Ernest Howard.
Source: Cecil County Maryland Public Schools, 1850 – 1958: Cecil County Classroom Teachers Association, by Ernest A. Howard (1970),
The former Pilot Town School, a photo from the 1970s (Source: Ernest A. Howard)
NOTES ON CECIL COUNTY CANNING COMPANIES — A number of towns once had canneries, processing corn, peaches, tomatoes, and other products. Some of the largest were located in the northwestern part of Cecil County.
By the late 19th century, there were canneries in the Colora and Liberty Grove area. For example, the Cecil Whig reported in August 1899 that two canneries at Colora had started operating for the season and that Silver’s Cannery at Liberty Grove was also operating. For the 1902 season, a record year, R.L. Christie’s Cannery at Colora packed 10,000 cases while Chas B. Silver’s Cannery, Liberty Grove, packed 19,000 cases.
George Lidell took charge of the canning factory at Liberty Grove in 1903, expanding the factory there (Midland Journal, Aug. 15, 1903).
Elwood Balderston sold land to Harry P. Strasbaugh and William Silver in 1911 and a year later the Colora Canning Company was incorporated. In 1928 the property was transferred to Francis S. and William E. Silver. In 1944, canning companies in Colora merged, forming the Silver Canning Company.
A postcard of the canning company at colora, showing the husking shed and factory. Circa. 1911. Source: personal collection
With an abundant crop being harvested in late August 1932, the canneries of Cameron Brothers at Rising Sun, Colora Packing Company and J H Liddell at Colora and the Liddell Canner at Liberty Grove were running full time. They were packing corn and tomatoes (Midland Journal, Aug. 26, 1932)
An eagerly anticipated annual custom at the Silver Canning Company was the “Harvest Home Party.” On Oct. 5, 1946, the company hosted its 10th annual party at its “up-to-date and sanitary cannery” near Colora. The company served cigars, coffee, ice cream, and coca-cola and more than thirty cakes made by the ladies who worked at the plant. “Diddy” Nesbitt and his band opened the party, providing music and entertainment. When the party closed at midnight everyone agreed that it had been a memorable occasion and a fitting close to the company’s 36th consecutive season (Midland Journal, Oct. 25, 1946)
When harvest season rolled around in 1951, The Silver Canning Co. advertising for cannery labor and trucks. Corn handlers, huskers, cutters, filler operators, and husk and corn trucks were needed.
The Silver Cannery located about a half-mile south of Colora was partially destroyed by a fire on March 3, 1965, according to the Cecil Whig. About 125 firefighters and nine units from Rising Sun, Port Deposit, Perryville and Darlington worked to contain the blaze. The building was fully involved when the first engine arrived, according to Chief Courtley Carter of the Community Fire Company of Rising Sun. The newspaper reported that the structure had not been used as a cannery for about 10 years.
Canneries were once very important for Cecil County’s economy, purchasing the crops of local farmers and employing hundreds of people.
“An unpretentious resort where people could enjoy the country, the great shade trees, and the safe, sandy beaches” is how one magazine once described Red Point Beach. The vacation spot about 4 miles below North East was established in 1926 after Alphonse Pericat and C. F. Park of Wilmington purchased the 112-acre property in Elk Neck.
The partners added some summer cottages, created campsites, had a beachfront store, and acres of wooded land for outdoor pleasure, along with the sandy beach on the North East River, all making it a beautiful spot for mooring craft, fishing, and enjoying the summer. In those early days, people traveled down dusty roads, drew water from a hand pump, and lit their cottages with kerosene lamps. Generations of families spent their summer at Red Point.
Over time the state paved the main road and electricity arrived. In 1953, the Post Office announced that residents at Red Point Beach would have home delivery from June 16 to September 15 each year. Odette (Skip) Scrivanich, whose grandfather (Pericat) was one of the partners, managed the beach for several decades. She died in June 1975 after contracting rabies from a bat bite. After her death, the property was put up for sale in 1978.
Women began joining the fire service in Elkton in the 1970s, entering the all-male Singerly Fire Company ranks as first responders. These trailblazers started with emergency medical services but soon expanded into firefighting. Over forty years later, they are found driving the apparatus, entering blazing buildings, providing pre-hospital acute care, and commanding incidents.
It certainly was a milestone in fire service history, as the first trailblazers met the challenge of leading the way. Those fire department pioneers in Elkton, beginning with the first two waves in 1975 and 1976, were Doris Swyka, Rosemary Culley, Helen Atkinson, Ann Boulden, Ruby Spry, and Shirley Herring.
After completing an intensive EMT course, this group learned the ropes and passed a demanding examination. Soon, they were answering ambulance calls alongside male colleagues. They never considered it a big deal, but in later years, other young women joining the fire department had female first responders as role models, which wasn’t available to those 1970s trailblazers. Also, in a few more years, additional women joined to become firefighters.
In the mid-1970s, Ann Boulden and Ruby Spry (behind bake table (L to R) sold baked goods for the company while also staffing the ambulance. Another crew member, Paul Burr, is in the back of the ambulance with a portable radio monitoring emergency traffic.
Along these lines, another entry was added to the record on Feb. 2, 2015, when Michelle Walker-Ewing became the chief of Singerly Fire Company. The 38th commander to take operational charge of the Elkton unit was also the first woman to attain the top rank in the county. Assuming the leadership reigns came naturally for the veteran commander, with both volunteer and career experience. Chief Ewing started as a rookie in 1981, joining the Community Fire Company of Rising Sun when she turned 16.
At a time when the service was mostly male, the recruit worked her way up the ranks, acquiring credentials as a firefighter, EMT, and paramedic. She also launched a career in the Cecil County Dept. of Emergency Services. After 26 years of service there, the chief retired as the deputy director, the agency’s second in command.
Recently, while researching the Singerly Fire Company’s 125th anniversary, we searched the archives for information on members when we discovered another marker to add to the company’s annals.
Martha Finley’s home on East Main Street Elkton, now Foard’s Funeral Home.
In 1892, as the Singerly Fire Company started serving the community, a man was issued a share of stock to show that he was a member. The board of directors voted on the candidates and three nays out of 12 were sufficient to block enlistment. In addition, you had to pay $1, and for that, you became a shareholder.
In those old 19th-century rosters, there is one woman, a card-carrying member of Singerly. Martha Finley (1828-1909) was an immensely popular children’s author whose works reached an estimated audience of 25 million readers. Born in Ohio, the internationally acclaimed writer lived in Philadelphia and New York before settling in Elkton in 1876, according to the biographer C. D. Merriman.1,2
From her beautiful residence on E. Main Street (now R.T. Foard Funeral Home), “one of America’s best-loved authoresses” produced her volumes for national publishing houses. The writer was a progressive philanthropist interested in advances for women.
In those old volumes is stock certificate No. 33 issued to “Miss Martha Finley” on March 8, 1892. After that, the official membership roster doesn’t have names of other women until the mid-1970s. There is no evidence to indicate other types of participation by this pioneer, but she was a stockholder, granted “full privileges of membership,” according to the company bylaws.
Singerly most likely generously benefited from financial contributions from the civic-minded, progressive writer, one of the nation’s leading authors at that time.
In the Elkton Cemetery on Howard Street, a small stretch of grass alongside Howard Street has served as the fireman’s lot since 1892. Here is the story behind this little plot of land in the old burial ground.
The Singerly Fire Company incorporated on Jan.
22, 1892, and in early November of that year the department’s first
president, Richard Thomas, died. The Elkton firefighters promptly called
a special meeting to make arrangements for the funeral.
O.R. Chaytor
was appointed to serve as the marshal at the fire service funeral. The
company also draped the fire apparatus in mourning for 30 days.
Mr. Thomas, 73, a native of England had settled in Cecil County in 1842.
For many years, he was engaged in the lumber and canal boat business
at Port Deposit and in 1871 he was elected sheriff of the county,
filling the office for two years. He died suddenly of heart disease on
Nov. 1. 1892 while sitting in a chair at his home on Main Street
(Evening Journal, Nov. 2, 1892).
The men voted
to purchase land in the cemetery for $14 to serve as the final resting
place for President Thomas. The deed, made out to Singerly, notes that
Mrs. Thomas had the privilege of being buried beside her husband in the
fireman’s lot.
Mrs. Thomas was buried there in 1928.
A number of years ago, Ed McKeown of the Elkton Monument Company donated a monument to formally mark the fireman’s lot at the Elkton Cemetery.
