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Fifty-one years ago people across the nation stayed glued to television sets and radios, listening to a stream of alarming broadcasts about heightening tensions as the Soviet Union and the United States faced off over the placement of missiles in Cuba.  President John F. Kennedy alerted the American people to the danger on Oct. 22, 1962, by going on the air during prime time to tell viewers that the nuclear weapons were in striking distance of Washington, D.C.  He demanded the removal of the missiles and ordered a naval blockade of Cuba.

With the world on the verge of mass destruction, this stand-off resulted in some frightening days.  Here in Cecil County, the confrontation had a direct impact.  Less than an hour after the quarantine speech, John J. Ward, Jr., Cecil County Civil Defense, swung into action, notifying local officials and emergency units.  His force contained 23 radiological monitoring teams, 95 auxiliary policemen, and 125 engineering personnel, along with the fire companies and police agencies.

From the Elkton “nerve center” Cecil County Civil Defense maintained direct contact with the National Air Warning Alert System in Colorado.  If the enemy launched an attack, the U.S. Air Force directly signaled the county seat so dispatchers could flash the urgent message to points in northeastern Maryland.

The morning after the startling speech, jittery residents and the County Commissioners acted quickly to increase survival chances.  President John R. Dickerson called a special meeting to discuss the “current crisis,” survival requirements, and the necessity “for a safe place to keep county records.”

Ward advised that local government facilities weren’t well-positioned to escape radiation or a blast from a thermonuclear weapon.  Although a local 24-hour radio network provided communications with first responders, it would cost a significant amount to protect the control center.  And there was no room for county government or its files.  David C. Racine and Howard B. Tome, the other board members, joined the president, instructing the emergency manager to immediately develop plans for a “bomb-proof building to house the CD control center and county records.”

Within a week, Ward reported back.  The plan called for constructing a below-ground fallout shelter to house 40 people for two weeks in the event weapons of mass destruction rained down on the nation.  The concrete building was to be buried completely below ground.

Months before the international incident, the Army Corps of Engineers completed an initial survey of 108 local structures, determining that 52 qualified as fallout shelters.  The urgency of the emergency expedited things so a faster plan was put in place to hang fallout shelter signs on the approved building, with stocking to get underway.    As the elected leaders considered the option of “dig, or not dig,” they decided that schools were ideal for Civil Defense purposes so they instructed the Board of Education to build shelters in all new facilities.

Civil Defense preparations to survive the atomic bomb preoccupied the public too.  In homes, many nervous citizens lay in supplies of canned foods, candles or lanterns, a supply of water, and medical supplies. And they stayed close to radio and television sets.   Ward reported numerous calls from the public, wanting to know what they could do, where the shelters were located, and how they could obtain radiological instruments for the home.

Before the calendar turned to November many residents mulled over their options for putting concrete and dirt between their families and radiation.  Considering the nightmare, some found the idea of huddling in private underground facilities appealing so the building inspector’s office got busy.   Robert R. Reed issued 17 permits, authorizing residents to start digging into the ground to construct those backyard shelters.

George Reynolds, a Navy veteran who arrived in Hiroshima on an expeditionary survey soon after the bombing recalled those troubling October days.  “It looked like we were going to war and I was anxious, he said.  I had seen the devastation caused by an atomic bomb and they had missiles 90 miles from our shores.  Regardless I got ready to do my part, and if the worst came, I had enough food, water, and supplies stocked in our cellar that we could survive.”

Gene Meekins, a young Elkton soldier stationed in Germany, served as the driver for the watch commander.  In the middle of the night, he recalls getting an urgent call to rush a senior officer to headquarters.  The base was abuzz with military activity and he soon learned that the military alert had been raised to the level just below an attack.

After a couple of agonizing weeks, a time when Armageddon was near, the immediate crisis eased when the Soviets agreed to remove the missiles.  And as autumn gave way to winter and the page turned on a new year, the intense preoccupation with survival passed.  But throughout the sixties, the Cold War and the threat of mass destruction remained a part of life and Cecil County Civil Defense kept a steady, though less frantic, focus on protecting the homeland should weapons of mass destruction strike the nation.

Four years after the intense crisis passed, Cecil County Civil Defense opened an Emergency Operations Center.  In the event of a nuclear attack, it was designed to support continuity of government operations deep in the ground in a sub-basement under the new courthouse addition.

This generation would remember crouching under our school desks during civil defense drills and concerns about converting basement space in homes into temporary survival areas.  People who lived during those troubled days usually remember them.

With the investigation into the crash of Asiana Flight 214 in San Francisco continuing, Fox 45 News reporter Melinda Roeder stopped by the Historical Society yesterday for help with a Maryland connection to the story.  It was Dec., 8, 1963, nearly fifty-years ago, when the worst crash in Maryland history occurred.  On that stormy December night a half-century ago, Pan Am Flight 214 circled high above Elkton waiting for a thunderstorm to pass.  Suddenly, moments before air traffic controllers prepared to clear the flight for final approach into Philadelphia, an enormous fireball illuminated the night sky as 81 people perished when lightning struck the doomed craft.

As Cecil County’s history and genealogy library our staff routinely handles media inquiries and so they swung into quickly action on this one.  On short notice we pulled together a large archive of materials, including news video of the 1963 tragedy, audio of the emergency communication network, dozens of photos, old newspapers, oral history interviews, personal correspondence, and much more.  We also briefed Melinda on the history of this tragedy and helped her with additional contacts.  She was able to talk to Lt. Don Hash, MSP (retired), who was the first emergency responder to arrive on the scene.

For the volunteer caretakers of Cecil’s heritage it is just another routine week.  Sometimes they deal with said memories such as this one, but there is a full range of inquiries from broadcast and print journalist.  As an example, over the past thirty days, we have helped a British newspaper doing a piece on the 250^th anniversary of the Mason and Dixon Line.  The Washington Post magazine featured an article on Bobby Kennedy’s Funeral Train and we helped with research materials and contacts.  A perspective of EMS in the United States was featured in the EMResidents Journal and we had a number of photos to help them with that story.  And we have had trade journals writing about Cecil County as a destination spot for tourists.  All of this is beyond what we do every week for our local newspapers.

Our volunteers always work to preserve the local story and welcome opportunities to share this narrative with a broader audience.  This is just one more way we carry out our mission as Cecil’s heritage keepers.

July 7, 2013 — We have exceeded our quota of strong evening thunderstorms, dangerous lightning, and heavy downpours lately as it seems we have been in Mother Nature’s Bull-Eye.  One of our volunteers, Kyle Dixon, snapped this photo as  dark storm clouds gathered over Rev. Duke’s Log House at the Historical Society just before dusk.

When Rev. Duke built his home over 214 years ago on Bow Street in the center of Elkton, he built it to last.  So after centuries of hurricanes, windstorms, nor’easters,  windstorms, and howling blizzards, this blast and those rather threatening dark clouds were nothing.

The Cecil Democrat, a weekly newspaper, published a series of interviews with public officials about local agencies in 1967.  That August, the paper put the “spotlight” on Civil Defense and the nearly six-year-old central fire dispatch system as a reporter talked to Marie Cooling.

“Fire headquarters” had gone on air in October 1961, working out a concrete-block one-story building in the back of the jail.  The “operators,” as they were known, dispatched fire and ambulance calls and relayed messages to the Elkton Police Department, Sheriff’s Office, and the Maryland State Police.  Before the launch of the 24-hour operation, companies had radio-equipped vehicles and bases in the fire stations, but the system-wide network didn’t exist.  Earlier, Marie noted that people called the companies directly, dialed the operator, or telephoned the canal dispatcher in Chesapeake City.

Four county employees staffed the 24/7 operation, as one dispatcher, working alone, juggled the telephone calls and radio traffic at fire headquarters.  In addition to Marie, the “operators” included:  James Penhollow, Rosemary Culley, and Roland Reynolds.

The reporter asked if there was a time when there had been a general alarm in the county requiring all apparatus. “Oh yes.  Once we had a big fire at Marysville and we had everything in the county, plus equipment from Havre de Grace and Newark.”

The “control center” was preparing to move deep below the ground of the new courthouse that was under construction into a specially constructed fallout shelter that was designed to allow the local government to continue functioning during a nuclear attack.  “It is intended to be bombproof,” she remarked.

All across the area people have been out and about enjoying the extended Independence Day Holiday.  But right on schedule, Historical Society volunteers reported for duty, opening the Cecil County History and Genealogy Library for those digging back through layers of time.  Hard at work, fielding whatever came their way on this hot, sweltering first Saturday in July, were three regular staffers, Darlene McCall, Beth Boulden-Moore, and Stephen Podolak.  They poured over old newspapers seeking to resolve some historical questions, digitized 1930s copies of Elkton High School newspapers, and generally took care of operations.

Meanwhile Milford Sprecher took time out from part of his extended Fourth of July holiday to work on a talk he is preparing for the upcoming speakers series.  He will discuss 1960s Elkton as he remembers it and was organizing materials for the presentation.  As we move through the second decade of the 21^st century, those recollections of the county seat a half-a-century ago, a period that saw many significant changes, will take us on tracks through time back to a special place as we hear about enduring memories that were acquired so long ago.  Look for details on the winter speakers’ series shortly.

Thank you Darlene, Beth, Stephen and Milford for going on the clock to help those seeking to understand Cecil heritage.

By Eric Mease — Cecil Whig, June 22, 2013

You know those black and white prisoner of war flags you see flying in the area from time to time?  They have a white outline of a man on a black background with his head bowed superimposed on a watch tower also in white.  It’s an ominous flag.  It serves as a reminder that in every war there are Americans taken prisoner and it is our duty to do everything we can to free them.

Cecil County has had its share of prisoners of war throughout our nation’s history.  One of them, during the Civil War, was the Rev. Joseph T. Brown.  Brown was in his fifties when he volunteered to serve as the chaplain for the 6^th Maryland Volunteers.  On October 23^rd, 1862, Brown took a train to Williamsport, Maryland to begin his basic training before going to the front.  Eight months later Brown was taken prisoner by Rebel forces and marched over 200 miles to the notorious Libby Prison in Richmond, Virginia.

Brown spent 3 months as a guest of Jeff Davis in Libby.  During that time he noted the number of wounded from his unit, the cost of bread, how to barter for tea, and the limb amputations that he witnessed.  On July 3, 1863, Brown was picked to draw lots to see which two of his fellow prisoners would be executed in retaliation for the execution of 2 Rebel spies in Kentucky.

But Brown’s happiest recollection was his return to his Cherry Hill community. He wrote, “I arrived in Elkton at about 9 o’clock and found quite a number of citizens awaiting my arrival.  My son was waiting for me at Elkton. I started home and when I arrived there found a party waiting amid the town (which) was illuminated, the choir was present and sang. To meet my friends once more.  Thank God for his goodness at home again.”

This is a lot of detail about a man’s war time experiences.  How did we come by all this information?  Truthfully, we cheated!  We have two of Chaplain Brown’s war time diaries, including the one that he kept while in Libby Prison.  We also have a few letters that he wrote before, during, and after his imprisonment.  From these letters and diaries we know many aspects of not only Chaplain Brown’s life, but his family life, the lives of some of his fellow soldiers, and the conduct of the war in northern Virginia while Brown served.  Without these letters and diaries, our knowledge of all of these things would be severely wanting.

While we know a lot about Rev. Joseph T. Brown of Cherry Hill, Cecil County, there’s a lot we don’t know.  We don’t know what happened to his family after he died a short time after the war ended.  We don’t know much about his service at Cherry Hill Methodist Church.  We know he was a member there and preached there frequently, but we don’t know in what capacity.  He wasn’t the pastor there, so what was he?  What ever happened to his Bible?  Perhaps he owned more than one.  What happened to them?  Are there other letters and journals?  Where are they?  We assume Brown wore a uniform during his years of service.  What did it look like? Did he save it?  Is it still in existence?  Most importantly of all, we don’t know what Rev. Brown looked like.  We have a picture of his tomb stone.  We have the stain glass window at the Cherry Hill Church dedicated to him, but we have no picture of the man!  Which brings us to the purpose of this article.  We need your help.  The Historical Society of Cecil County is celebrating the 150^th anniversary of the Civil War with an exhibit which includes some of Rev. Brown’s letters and his diaries.  We would like to add to our collection.  We would like to answer those questions that are nagging us and we’d like to have a picture!  If you are a descendant or know a descendent of Rev. Brown, and you have any of these things or other artifacts/mementos from Brown, please let us know.  We want to talk to you about them!  Please see our web site at www.cecilhistory.org and click on “Contact Us.”  Or, give us a call at 410-398-1790 and leave a message.  We will return your call.

 

High atop a perch on the old brick firehouse in downtown Elkton, a 128-year-old weathervane has pointed out the direction of the blowing wind for centuries.  From that central location or the nearby courthouse where it originally claimed a spot, it swung in changing breezes, gusts, and gales always serving as a steady sentinel — keeping a watchful eye out for shifting conditions.

That interesting weathervane, in the form of a shad, was originally placed on the roof of the old courthouse that stood at the corner of North and Main streets.  This 18th-century public structure was being renovated in 1886 when the Cecil Whig wrote about the attractive crown.  The expanded building “has been decorated by a handsome and unique weather vane, which is all new. . . .”  The contractor, George S. Fox of Rising Sun placed the ornamental piece of roof work there. Harry Hearn designed the instrument, the Baltimore Sun added.   Above the courthouse cupola, the decorative piece had a sweeping view of the Big Elk Creek crowded with boats, during an era when fisheries were an important part of the everyday.

Detractors complained about the expansion.  But “the critics can’t carp at this new vane, however vain the architect or builder of this vane may be, simply because there is no carp about it but all shad, a massive gilt shad, its body made of copper, with the scales wrought in shape by hand and covered with real gold leaf.  Below it are gilt balls . . . with the four index letters of the compass in gilt letters about 9 inches in size,” wrote the Cecil Whig.  “Outside of the beauty and usefulness of such an ornament, we are glad to know that it is one of the few things about the building which were got up at home.”

By the 1930s, the judicial system and county government needed more space.  Thus the county erected a new courthouse one block east of the original facility.  County officials handed over the first seat of justice to the Town of Elkton and the city council promptly tore it down in Oct. 1940. They, however, saved the shad from the wrecking ball and sometime after they moved it to its present location, a municipal property that served as the fire station.  This was its perch when the Baltimore Sun wrote about it in 1958.

In this age of instant access to weather data on our smartphones, computers, and cable television, the attractive, twisting, and turning instrument, a once useful monitor of the whims of the weather, reminds us of an earlier time.

The times were changing for readers after World War II and Cecil County kept up as it organized a county library system.  The first step was to hire a professional librarian, Ruth Miller, and she made the establishment of a “library on wheels” a priority.  Filled with shelves, the bookmobile started rolling down the road in 1947 as it carried books to stations scattered across the rural area.  Miss Miller, brought years of experience in organizing systems, coming here from the newly established Mohawk College Library at Utica, NY.  Before that she organized a public library at Hamtramck, Mich. where she served the city as its librarian for 10 years.  In the second half of 1947, the bookmobile, “painted a robin egg blue, with navy blue lettering on all four side in bold type” became a familiar and welcome sight on the roads and highway of Cecil County as it transported 800 volumes of valued reading material to “stations” in villages and wide spots in the road.  In a time when literature and reading material were scare and many lived far away from the local reading room, it was a welcome sight when the mobile library arrived with fresh material for a weekly visit in places that stretch from Oakwood to Warwick.  As the librarian worked to provide Cecil County with a first-class institution, she reported that by Oct. 1 5,000 new books would be ready for circulation, in addition to the old books already in the library.

WPA Today, a website published by Brent McKee, contains an interesting virtual exhibit of WPA projects around Maryland.  He has drawn on Great Depression era photographs and art work in the collection at the University of Maryland College Park Archives and added his own current images to it as he travels around the State.  The Maryland exhibits includes a number of Cecil County projects that caught our attention, including the African-American Schoolhouse in Port Deposit, the Pleasant Hill Fire Tower, street work in Elkton, the Elkton reservoir, water and sewer work in Chesapeake City and more.  We think readers of a Window on Cecil Count’s Past will find this site of interest.  Thanks Brent for sharing  Maryland New Deal history on the Web.

As Cecil County anticipates the arrival of summer, the Singerly Fire Company Station in Kenmore was looking fine in the late afternoon sunshine on the last day of spring 2013.  Station 14, some seven miles from Elkton, opened in 1978 to serve the far northern part of the fire protection district.  It serves Fair Hill, Providence, Lewisville, Appleton, Cherry Hill, Pleasant Hill, and other northern reaches of the territory.  It was dedicated to Edgar (Speck) Slaughter Jr., who was the chief from 1960 to 1969.  Gary Storke was the president of the company overseeing the opening of the substation, which greatly reduced travel time to an emergency.