Bailiff Biddle was commonly called the chief by many, including Elkton's newspapers.
Photographs of Elkton Police Chiefs line a wall at the town police station. Starting with the first, George M. Potts (1908-1935), there are images of many of the departments 20th century commanders.
But before the officer appointed to maintain law and order carried the rank of chief, the town lawman was known as the bailiff. During lulls in police work, these hard-working public servants took care of the streets, impounded animals, served as the lamplighter, and collected taxes. Some tasks, such as lamplighter and tax collector, varied over time, but a primary responsibility was keeping the peace and he was required to prowl the streets in a blue coat, brass buttons, and badge.
On the prowl for old photos and information on earlier leaders of the police department, we recently received a picture of George Collison Biddle. When he received his first appointment in 1896, his salary for 12-months was $500. The rookie officer had worked for the Singerly Pulp Mill and lived on East High Street.
Shortly after being sworn in, the Elkton officer received a call for backup from Sheriff Mackey. Several men were on a train refusing to pay so the sheriff called on every available lawman in the area for help with the free riders. In addition to the bailiff, that included Deputy McAllister. When the train pulled in one of the men jumped from the cars and started running up the railroad tracks. “But Elkton’s new officer was not to be outrun and soon the clutches of the law were upon the victim,“ a newspaper reported. The Mayor and Commissioners also had street work waiting for the bailiff, so when he wasn’t carting drunks off to jail in a wheelbarrow he worked to fix up the streets. He was “starting out well as an officer,” the Cecil Democrat noted. “May he not grow weary in well doing.”
To the consternation and dismay of Elkton troublemakers, the town council provided him with a bicycle in 1900 so he could more effectively whirl through the streets and alleys on his patrols. When thanksgiving rolled around that year, a local newspaper noted that “Officer Biddle was in good cheer “as he was thankful that the town council had armed him with a unit that allowed him to spin from point to point on his rounds.”
ticket to last hanging.
George Biddle served as Elkton’s thin blue line until 1903 when he successfully ran for sheriff. The last execution in Cecil County took place during Sheriff Biddle’s term, when John M. Simpers was hanged on October 20, 1905. In that era, the sheriff could only serve one term.
The 67-year-old Cecil County lawman passed away on April 26, 1929. He’d been born in 1861.
Deputy McAllister & Sheriff Biddle on the platform with Simpers.
After years of arguing over whether the Sheriff’s department should have county-supplied police cars, the agency finally started patrolling in official vehicles in 1968. In opposition to the plan, one commissioner said that if we give cars to those deputies, they’ll just go out and ride all over the county. Others argued it would cost too much money to provide four squad cars. Those people said the system that paid officers ten-cents a mile to use their own transportation was adequate.
Year after year, the commissioners would never agree that it was less costly to provide county owned autos or that having a visible law enforcement presence prowling the roads was a good idea. As things stalled with the commissioners refusing to allocate funds in the budget, the state delegation finally got involved, passing legislation requiring the county to purchase vehicles.
For the first time in the history of the agency, Sheriff Thomas H. Mogle, Jr., and his four full-time deputies drove county supplied police vehicles in 1968. It was none too soon for the small law enforcement agency, but at least they were catching up with other departments such as Elkton, Newark, North East, Chesapeake City and others. Those small municipalities started purchasing police vehicles for their lawmen as early as the 1920s. The squad cars were fully equipped with a police radio, official markings, lights, and a siren.
Having caught up with other law enforcement agencies in one area, Sheriff Mogle set out to help improve the underfunded and understaffed agency’s manpower. He’d inherited a department with four full-time deputies to maintain law and order, oversee the jail, answer police calls, serve court papers, and provide courtroom security. The Sheriff argued that the force should be doubled to eight-men, but that argument went around and around. So the state delegation once again stepped in to resolve things, passing legislation that increased the size of the force.
At Wright’s African Methodist Episcopal Church, a standing-room only crowd gathered early this Monday morning to celebrate the life and legacy of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. This was the 21st annual celebration, the Cecil County observance having been started by Commissioner Charles Givens and Robert Davis to honor the civil rights leader locally. Rousing music from the church choir started the morning service as members of the congregation came forward to offer reflections on Dr. King’s legacy. By the time the Rev. Brian Thomas came forward on pulpit, the enthusiastic audience was completely engaged in service and the minister’s inspiring, “Are We There Yet?” A lively choir, great hospitality, and a powerful message from the Rev. Thomas are things we’ve learned to look forward to each year, as we pause to reflect and honor Dr. King on his birthday.
Allee & Shepherd, near where the town was talking about building a lockup in 1907
RISING SUN POLICE IN 1900 — In the hours before sunrise on a peaceful Sunday morning in December 1910, a barking dog disturbed the tranquility of Rising Sun. The incessant yapping, as the animal furiously yanking on its chain, roused Rising Sun’s Town Officer, Nathan Britton, who had been sleeping soundly at home.
The bailiff, (the title of a municipal lawman), wanting to quiet the animal, grabbed his gun. He fired a shot in the direction of the commotion, expecting to “frighten the object of the animal’s wrath away, supposing it to be another dog,” the Midland Journal reported. But with the disturbance continuing, the occupant of another nearby house fired off two more shots in the general direction of the commotion.
Since that didn’t stop the disturbance, the bailiff grabbed a lantern and went out into the predawn darkness to investigate. He found a much befuddled drunk leaning against a fence, near where the dog was tied. So “hopelessly bewildered was the victim of John Barleycorn, who had a narrow escape from being shot but didn’t realize it, that the bailiff took compassion on him. He hauled him off to the town lockup and gave him a comfortable berth for the night so he could sleep off his jig.” He released the man later in the morning.
The town bailiff, a position similar to that of a constable, performed a number of tasks for the town. Beyond keeping order, Officer Britton served as the lamplighter and took care of the streets. Rising Sun’s 100th. anniversary booklet said he was our “lamplighter. Every morning he made the rounds to clean the globs and fill with kerosene all the town’s street lights, and then at dusk, he would make another trip with his little ladder under his arms climbing each post. . . Mr. Nathan Britton was the only person on the town’s payroll. In addition to taking care of the street lamps seven days a week, he was the effective bailiff that kept the town in order, and with a wheelbarrow and sometimes a horse cart (total equipment of the street dept.) he would keep the roads in repair . . .”
“Wearing his silver star of authority and in his plain Quaker language, he would admonish the boys – “If thee doesn’t stop riding thy bicycle on the sidewalk, I will have to put thee in the lock-up for an hour. Even though he weighed no more than 125 pounds, he was the law and the boys all feared him – in those days backtalk to the law was unheard of,” the centennial booklet concluded.
In 1907, the town newspaper announced that the commissioners were erecting a building for council meetings. The plot of ground was going to be leased from Allee & Shepherd on West Main Street and a building 12 X 16 erected to contain a council room and lockup, with an annex for a storage room and tool house.
The brilliant blue sky that followed a light dusting of snow in Cecil County caused us to grab our camera and head out to grab a few images as the day highlighted the attractiveness of some of Elkton’s historic structures. These two photos show the Providence United Methodist Church, one of Elkton’s old congregations, the structure dating from the first half of the 19th century.
To the consternation and dismay of crooks, felons, and troublemakers, the Elkton Town Council decided to provide its tiny police force with greater mobility in Nov. 1900. At a council meeting that month, the town purchased a bicycle for $10, allowing their lawman to pedal rapidly around the municipality. Once it arrived, Bailiff George Biddle, the only officer, whirled quietly through the streets, alleys, and roads of the growing community, performing his duties with greater efficiency,
The fact that Elkton mounted a wheeled patrol caught the attention of other communities. The Chestertown Officer, Mr. Simpson, said if the town furnished a police bicycle, “he might consider it, but he had no hankering to become a mounted policeman.” By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, Officer Biddle was in good cheer, a local newspaper reported, as he was thankful that Mayor McQuilkin and the councilmen armed him with the unit, allowing him to spin from point to point on his rounds.
Chief Biddle of the Elkton Police Department. The titles were in transition during his tenure of office. (source: personal collection)
This was the same year the automobile started showing up in town, but the arrival of a patrol car was nearly thirty years away for the force. But with the town council in such a progressive mood, there was talk of purchasing a pair of horses for street work. They could also be used to pull the steamer of the Singerly Fire Company. Nothing ever came of that idea.
In addition to the Elkton Police Bicycle Patrol, see this article on another transportation innovation in law enforcement when the Cecil County Sheriff’s Office received its first patrol cars in 1968
Located a short distance from Havre de Grace is the Perry Point VA medical center. The primary function of the Perry Point VA is treatment of mental health. The hospital was created in 1919 and has evolved over the years to the significant role it now provides veterans. Living in Havre de Grace I can see the hospital from my house and have visited the campus on several occasions. The facility sits on land located at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay providing visitors with extraordinary views of the areas local beauty. Some of the property was sold over to the local town of Perryville to create Perry Point Community Park. Situated on the old property, which is now a park, is a thick wooded area that is home to some astonishing historical documentation.
April 3 Eclipse BBC of Elkton at Athletic BBC of Philadelphia
April 9 Diamond State BBC of Delaware at Eclipse BBC of Elkton
April 10 Dauntless BBC of Havre de Grace at Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City
April 10 Athletic BBC of Philadelphia at Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City
April 17 Flemington %eshanock at Eclipse BBC of Elkton
April 17 Potomac %ine of Washington at Eclipse BBC of Philadelphia
May 1 Talbot Fair Plays at Eclipse BBC of Elkton
May 15 Eclipse BBC of Elkton at Dauntless BBC of Havre de Grace
May 22 Eclipse BBC of Elkton at Diamond State BBC of Delaware
May 22 Athletic BBC of Philadelphia at Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City
June 5 Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City at Dauntless BBC of Havre de Grace
June 11 Eclipse BBC of Elkton at Potomac Nine of Washington at Prince William, Va
June 12 Eclipse BBC of Elkton at Potomac Nine of Washington at Loudoun Co., Va.
June 12 Talbot Fair Plays at Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City
June 25 Eclipse BBC of Elkton at Mechanicsburg Nine at Westmister, MD
June 26 Dauntless BBC of Havre de Grace at Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City
July 2 Eclipse BBC of Elkton at Flemington Neshanock at Cape May, NJ
July 10 Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City at Chesapeake Nine of Baltimore
July 16 Eclipse BBC and Cecil BBC at Gettysburg Tournament, Gettysburg, Pa.
July 17 Eclipse BBC and Cecil BBC at Gettysburg Tournament, Gettysburg, Pa.
July 23 Eclipse BBC of Elkton at Flemington Neshanock at Princeton, NJ
July 24 Mechanicsburg %ine at Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City
July 31 Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City at Potomac Nine of Washington
August 7 Eclipse BBC of Elkton vs Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City
August 20 Mid Atlantic League In Season Tournament/Festival TBA
August 21 Mid Atlantic League In Season Tournament/Festival TBA
August 28 Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City at Atlantic BBC of Brooklyn
Sept 10 Cecil BBC of Chesapeake City at Athletic BBC of Philadelphia
Sept 11 Dauntless BBC of Havre de Grace at Eclipse BBC of Elkton
Sept 11 Chesapeake %ine of Baltimore at Eclipse BBC of Elkton
Sept 18 Maryland State Championships at Glen Burnie, Md.
October 2 Mid Atlantic League Championship Tournament TBA
Oct 16 Athletic BBC of Philadelphia at Eclipse BBC of Elkton
Oct 23 Eclipse BBC of Elkton vs Mechanicsburg Nine at Strasburg, Pa.
Schedule Subject to change. All home matches start at 1:00pm unless otherwise noted. Home matches take place at Terrapin Station Winery
To my Valentine, a postcard. (Personal Collection)
If you are interested in learning about Elkton’s history as a place for quick marriages, the Historical Society of Cecil County is hosting a free lecture on Feb. 11. 2011, at 7:00 p.m. Stop in to hear historian Mike Dixon talk about when the marriage industry thrived in Elkton and the honeymoon express arrived in town everyday. Dixon will also take a look at some of the characters behind this unusual past as it examines the story of Elkton’s past as the marriage capital of the east. The Society is located at 135 E. Main Street, Elkton.
Dr. Stavrakis on duty in the new hospital ER with Lois Schmeusser (source: Stavrakis family)
As darkness settled on Elkton one Friday night in 1978, Union Hospital’s Emergency Department buzzed with activity. The attending doctor, Peter Stavrakis, efficiently directed care while nurses performed procedures, monitors beeped, and anxious families paced hallways. When the physician started examining a new arrival, the belligerent man struck him on the head with a metal bedpan. The resulting gash required sutures, but Stavrakis, after briefly pausing to get stitched up, pressed on, refusing to slow down or take a break. There were broken limbs, chest pain cases, and who knows what else to be seen that hectic night as the 12-hour overnight shift ground on.
This injury was a small matter for a military surgeon who sharpened his skills on the battlefields of Europe and thrived on the hectic pace of emergency medicine. It was also typical of the caregiver who put patients and profession first. Born in Ukraine in 1917, Stavrakis earned his medical degree from Shevchenko University at the age of 21, graduating in the top 10% of the class. Fresh out of school, when World War II broke out, the physician gained combat know-how treating injured soldiers in the Red Army and was taken prisoner by Germany. After the war, the refugee moved to Long Island with his family and $32 in his pocket so he worked as a gardener until finding a residency program. When he hung out his shingle in Elkton on May 8, 1953, the cost for a visit was $3.
The healer practiced family medicine for 19 years, doing everything from delivering babies to treating broken limbs and helping ease the end of life. Brenda Belay, a nurse, recalls that when she moved here in 1969, she took her family to the clinician since she saw how knowledgeable he was and how he cared for patients. “He treated everyone the same, whether you could pay or not, and he was very popular.”
Creating an Emergency Dept. in the Local Hospital
Dr. Stavrakis in the Emergency Room (Source: the family)
When Union Hospital got ready to forge new territory, he was ready for a fresh challenge so he turned his family practice over to Dr. Hsu in 1972 and took charge of creating an Emergency Department staffed by physicians concentrating exclusively on emergency medicine. New life-saving technologies and techniques, changes in medicine, and increasing caseloads called for highly skilled practitioners dedicated full-time to staffing the department around the clock. He was the department’s Medical Director for 16 years, where seasoned by priceless lessons learned in war, the caregiver was in his element.
Maryland’s sophisticated emergency medical system of trauma centers and helicopter transport hadn’t evolved. Hence, Union Hospital handled everything from simple medical cases to desperately ill or severely injured patients,” Cathie Null, a nurse, recalls. “Now critical injuries are transported directly from the scene to Shock Trauma. Medicine didn’t have as much sophisticated diagnostic equipment or procedures in the 1970s. But the knowledgeable physician had an innate diagnostic ability and a unique way of identifying what was wrong. He took a good history, did a physical examination, ordered clinical tests, and swung into action, often treating patients hovering between life and death as he skillfully commanded care for trauma cases that are handled in Baltimore today,” she says.
“He was a wonderful diagnostician,” Connie Ceban, an ED nurse for 28 years, adds. “He was on his game when the worst cases came in, patients sometimes involved in an all-out fight for life and in need of urgent care. His war experience taught him how to deal with the trauma, and he was noted for his ability to suture wounds without leaving a scar. That was something he was proud of.”
Picking up on these points, his daughter, Olga Stavrakis, adds: “He relied very heavily on observation of the patient’s eyes, face, expression, and demeanor. . . . He could see by the color of the skin and the look in the eye what was going on inside the human body.” From his father, a highly acclaimed Ear, Nose and Throat surgeon in Ukraine, he inherited “the ability to see into the patient and diagnose correctly and very steady hands that could perform minute surgery with confidence. His hands remained steady up to the end.”
Dr. Peter Stavrakis — A Pioneer in Many Ways
With guidance from Stravakis, Cecil’s first pre-hospital advanced life support providers hit the road in 1978. Before that, field care largely consisted of a speedy ride in an ambulance with little medical equipment. “Instrumental in getting the paramedic initiative started, he served as our medical director and was the program’s biggest advocate,” Shirley Herring, one of the members of that class, recalls. “He taught several lessons and we worked with him in the ER. Anytime he had anything unusual, he always had time to explain it to us.”
Dr. Stavrakis has the county’s first group of advanced Life Support Providers practice use of a defibrillator as Frank Muller, the instructor, looks on. L TO R (standing) — Frank Muller, Instructor; Mike Dixon, Pete Swyka, Shirley Herring, Keith Sinclair; On the floor — Dr. Stavrakis; Eileen Reilly, Bill Adams. Not pictured David Herring.
I responded to my first heart attack call as an advanced life support provider in 1978. It was in the middle of the night at a lonely spot miles from the hospital, and when we entered the darkened house, the patient had a lethal heart rhythm. I nervously transmitted an EKG and radioed crucial information to the hospital. As the signal containing the heart pattern beamed into the hospital, this confident, authoritative voice blared over the network, penetrating the Maryland night. It was Stavrakis shouting hurried orders for invasive procedures to defibrillate the heart, intubate the patient, start an IV, and administer drugs for critical seconds were rushing by. Most apprehensive about executing these tasks without the doctor’s firm hand nearby for the first time, my hands begin to shake badly, but somehow I managed to follow the barrage of orders as he guided me through the process.
A little later, at the hospital, my hands were still shaking as I tried to hold a cup of coffee in those pre-dawn hours long ago. I remember one of the aides, Edna, came over as I tried to steady the drink to ask what was wrong with me. Somehow the distant guidance of the battle-hardened World War II surgeon and his barrage of rapid-fire commands got us through that first call.
Dr. Kenneth Lewis, the hospital’s president, recalls meeting the emergency medicine practitioner in 1978 when he first set up his office. “Peter, who was a font of knowledge, set a high standard. He knew all the specialties . . . and his commitment to patients and the profession was contagious.”
At the age of 77, having treated some 140,000 patients and seen enormous progress in medicine and Union Hospital, he hung up his stethoscope when he retired from the ER in 1994. When family, friends, and colleagues gathered to honor him, he said, “Such a celebration for an old man who is going out of business,” as he talked about his professional life. But he wasn’t going to ease completely into retirement, for he returned to where he started, working with Dr. Hsu in her family practice.
Once when he was recuperating from shoulder surgery, a colleague asked the physician if he had any hobbies, Olga notes. “My father ignored the question dismissing it with an indulgent smile. I took it upon myself to explain that my father had only one passion in life, which was his work, his hobby, and his definition of self, and that was his medicine. Healing gave him life, and healing sustained him.”
After he retired, we occasionally talked. The last time was at a Middle Eastern Restaurant in Newark. Walking in with a group, the aging physician came over to my table so we chatted about the past, his mind as sharp as ever. At some point, I said “Doc, I’d like to record your recollections someday.” To that, he replied matter of factly, just as authoritatively and clinically as when the chief of emergency medicine guided me through my first advanced medical procedures nearly 30 years ago, I’m dying. I not sure how I responded, but to whatever it was he added directly yes and provided medical insight just as if he were explaining the complexities of the case to one of his paramedic students decades ago. As our conversation ended all too soon that spring evening in 2006, it would be the last time I would talk to the 89-year-old.
Dr. Peter Stavrakis, the respected doctor who took care of generations of Cecil Countians, saved many lives and contributed so much to this community as a healthcare innovator, passed away on July 15, 2006. I will always remember our last conversation.
