In the years after World War II, community pools were the in thing, a great civic improvement providing a place to take a dip to cool off on scorching summer days. Across the region, private clubs, community groups, and municipalities opened those refreshing spots so young and old could find a little relief from the oppressive heat and humidity.
Here in Cecil wrecking crews made room for a pool in Port Deposit by demolishing Jacob Tome’s mansion in August 1948. Once the lot was cleared, volunteers from the Port Deposit Lions Club got busy, excavating the space and digging out the rocks. The eagerly anticipated attraction unofficially opened on July 15, 1950. The formal dedication of the Jacob Tome Memorial Swimming Pool took place on Saturday, August 26, 1950. Capt. J. J. O’Donnell, USN, the former commanding officer of the Naval Academy and College Preparatory School at Bainbridge was the principal speaker. Other remarks were offered by Donaldson Brown of Mount Ararat Farms, Frank D. Brown, Jr. president of the Lions Club, and Robert F. Ryan president of the town council.
Practically the entire town turned out for the event, and after the dedication, the crowd was entertained with a water pageant, with exhibition swimming and diving and formation underwater maneuvers. The ten acts featured a special swimming team from the University of Maryland (News Journal, Aug. 26, 1950). For decades after that, the sounds of laughter, splashing water, portable radios, and general merriment filled the street on the south end of town as people found summertime relief.
But by February 1981, the days for this place of summer were numbered. It was “sink or swim for Port Deposit Pool” as the Lions Club approached the town about assuming responsibility for operations, the Cecil Whig reported. The town wasn’t interested in taking on the obligation for the 40-by-100-foot Olympic-style pool but needed time to consider things. The pool didn’t open for the 1983 season.
One of the highlights of August for many people living in Cecil County in the decades around the turn of the twentieth century was the annual Woodlawn Camp Meeting. For two weeks in the heat and humidity of summer, many families vacationed there, escaping the chores of farm life, socializing, and listening to worship services.
Established by the Methodist Episcopal Church in 1871, the encampment continued for more than 42 years, annually drawing people to the cool shade of the grove. It was located on what is now called Camp Meeting Ground Road near Woodlawn on a 15-acre grove of tall timbers, which was purchased from F. Marion Rawlings and Theodore J. Vanneman.
There were two long avenues of tents extending on either side of the wooden tabernacle, where a pavilion for preachers and benches were located. While most campers resided in tents there were a few frame structures, such as the boarding tent and ice cream and confectionery stand.
The local Methodist ministers took charge of the camp, and it was their duty to provide preaching talent throughout the week. From morning to evening, there was preaching, praising, and fellowship. Of course, there was an active choir, supplemented by a fiddle and a coronet. “The old hymns of the church were sung lustily and with great fervor,” the Cecil Democrat reported.
The camp meeting also played an important social role. The young people met to promenade up and down the avenues on those hot, sticky August nights. Hopefully, they caught a gentle breeze as they stopped at the picture gallery for photographs or at the ice cream stand for refreshments. Many of the campers resided in tents, but there were two frame cottages.
The boarding tent, and ice cream and confectionery stand were also frame. The boarding tent was under the management of “Uncle Al Boyd,” a former baggage master on the railroad and a former sheriff. The camp bell called camp goers for meals and meetings and the “never failing pump” was a popular spot. With the arrival of the automobile and the accessibility of attractions at greater distances, camp days waned.
The annual camp meeting went out of style in Cecil County in 1913. The ground was sold by receivers in 1915.
* * * * * *Sources & Notes
* The Historical Marker Database — Woodlawn Camp Meeting https://www.hmdb.org/marker.asp?marker=24111 ** At the Head of the Bay: A Cultural & Architectural History of Cecil County* Period articles in the Cecil Democrat and the Cecil Whig
For additional photos of Woodlawn Camp Meeting as this album on Facebook
As the summer months heated up in the late 19th century, residents of nearby cities often took extended vacations. Seeking out the cooler, fresh air of the countryside or the fresh breezes from the ocean or bay, they escaped the city’s heat during the sweltering months. Many towns on the Chesapeake Bay capitalized on this growing trend and Rising Sun was one of the places ready to host vacationers from Philadelphia, Chester, Wilmington or other nearby points in 1870.
After S. C. Konigmacher, an experienced hotelier, took over the management of Rising Sun’s hotel, the Maryland House, in 1870, he promoted it as a summer resort. An experienced innkeeper, he formerly managed the Ephrata Mountain Springs in Ephrata, PA, and the Seaview House in Atlantic City, NJ.
Koningmacher’s advertisement noted that the Maryland House was the most modern, attractive summer place between Philadelphia and Baltimore. In the “midst of a highly cultivated neighborhood — settled by followers of William Penn — the air was unsurpassed, there was pure water and good health, and the area was entirely free of mosquitoes,” the advertisement added.
Plenty of amusements awaited the seasonal visitor. Game and fish abounded, giving those wishing to engage in hunting or fishing opportunities. “Gilpin’s Falls, Octoraro Creek, and the Susquehanna River, “all celebrated for their romantic scenery” were in the immediate neighborhood. At the hotel, a fine shaded lawn was fitted up for outdoor exercise, and good band music frequently enlivened the place.
In 1872, a destructive fire quickly spread to the hotel and its stables, destroying the buildings. An urgent appeal for aid went out on the telegraph wires to Oxford requesting that the Union Fire Company load a steam engine on a special train and rush to Rising Sun. But the Oxford telegraph office was closed at that hour, so the fire department did not get the message until the next morning, according to the Oxford Press.
The summer resort, the second Maryland House, was destroyed by the blaze. A fire had also destroyed the first one, but another lodging facility would soon be built.
A handbill for the Maryland House in Rising Sun on the Philadelphia and Baltimore Central Railroad. First-class accommodations included warm and cold baths.
ELKTON – July 23, 2021 – On this sad Friday in late July, hundreds of first responders, public officials, friends, and family gathered at the Elkton United Methodist Church to say a final goodbye to Firefighter Roger Morton McCardell, Jr. Born on October 10, 1957, the 63-year-old public servant passed away on July 17, 2021.
As soon as he was old enough, the sixteen-year-old followed his childhood dream, entering the service as a probationary member in the Singerly Fire Company on October 14, 1973. The vibrant, energetic, well-liked rookie started riding the back step of the engine and staffing the ambulance immediately as he quickly learned the ropes while handling a hose at a blaze or assisting a stricken patient en route to the hospital. Twelve months later, he was promoted, having earned the rank of full firefighter.
That point 47-years ago marked the start of a long service career, professional and volunteer, spanning six decades. After graduating from high school Roger took a paid summer position with the Ocean City Fire Department, serving the resort as a firefighter and Emergency Medical Technician (EMT), while also becoming certified to provide prehospital advanced life support, a newly emerging discipline for first responders in the State.
Later on, as his career progressed, he became a national sales representative helping small volunteer companies and large urban departments with their fire suppression needs. Roger was an expert in this field, traveling throughout the nation to consult with public safety agencies seeking to select hose and appliances for fire suppression. Over those 33-years on the road, he made many friends, attended national fire department trade shows, and worked with major fire departments across the country. Los Angeles, New York City, San Francisco, and Boston were some of the clients that came to Roger when they needed hose for attack and supply lines .
Roger continued in the fire service through his adult life, committing much of his life’s work to protect the community and serving the nation’s fire departments. He recently retired from Key Hose as their North East Regional Sales Manager.
“. . . But with all that spectacular background, Roger liked talking about his experience with Singerly and Ocean City FD the most. . . .” — Sam Goldwater
Eulogizing Roger this afternoon, fellow Elkton firefighter and Key Hose Sales Representative Sam Goldwater remarked: “. . . Roger worked on projects with the International Fire Chief’s Association and many fire departments across the nation. He worked at [New York City] shops during 9/11 and fought forest fires on the west coast. He was in the command center for the largest rice fire in history. But, with all that spectacular background, Roger liked talking about his experience with Singerly and Ocean Fire Departments the most. . . .”.
Firefighter/EMT and good friend Roger McCardell will be missed.
For more on Roger See the following
Here’s a link to a 2016 interview Roger did with the Singerly Listening Station
For additional remembrance photos see this album on Facebook.
For its centennial celebration in 1992, the Singerly Fire Company commissioned an oil painting that showed the company racing out of the North Street station on a cold winter evening in 1892 to answer its first alarm. A team of galloping horses pulled the Amoskeag Steamer past the old courthouse at the corner of Main and North streets as an early evening February twilight descended on Cecil County. Immediately behind the engine, a group of men tugged strenuously on the Gleason and Bailey Hook and Ladder as a fresh coating of snow made their work slippery. The old hose cart wasn’t going to be too far behind for it is just rolling out the firehouse door.
The toiling fire bell had called out Elkton volunteers for their first general alarm on this winter day. These pieces of newly acquired equipment, and one additional hose cart, which hadn’t answered the alarm yet protected the county seat from the ravages of flames for decades until they were retired as motorized units came into general use three decades later.
In preparation for the celebration of 100-years-of-service, the Elkton firefighters commissioned Doylestown PA artist Gil Cohen to produce the Singerly Fire Company painting and the company sold a limited-edition print. When the company decided it wanted a unique scene showing the 19th-century volunteers answering the alarm, the board launched a search for an artist who could accurately depict the technical nature of the setting and capture the mood.
The nationally recognized artist, a member of the American Society of Aviation Artists and an illustrator for major publishing companies, had done work for the United States Coast Guard Bicentennial and for other major celebrations. He is acknowledged as one of the world’s leading aviation artists, known for his profound interest in history and his sensitive portrayal of the human element. Thus a company representative drove to Bucks County to meet with the artist, and after examining his work he was commissioned to produce the canvas.
A stickler for historical accuracy, Cohen did lots of research to recreate this scene from another century. His first visited Elkton to get a feel for the town and begin research for the project. He walked down Main Street with Mike Dixon, a member of the fire company, studying old pictures and looking at modern vantage points. “I conjure up images in my mind. It’s almost like entering a time machine, where I’m here but trying to visualize the street as it was before the turn of the century,” he told an Elkton newspaper, the Times.
He next utilized company members dressed in turnout gear to pose for him as he dramatically portrayed their 19th-century counterparts. So on a cold Monday afternoon in February 1992, one-hundred years after the department was formed, Cohen had firefighters running down North Street and hanging off apparatus as bystanders leaned over the railings on the Howard House porch. As the sun went down on this winter evening long shadows became more apparent on the buildings. It was just the look and mood Cohen was after. His research also took him to fire museums in Philadelphia and in New York as he interviewed experts on 19th-century apparatus and viewed old photos.
One of the awards he received commented on his portrayal of the “human element – the nuances of facial expression and body posture – set against the background of wartime field activity, which brings each canvas to life”. Singerly saw that first hand as he put the members through the paces to create the artistic image of the first alarm.
Once he completed his research and had visualized the twilight in that winter of long ago, he submitted several rough sketches for the board’s approval. After the drawing was approved, the artist started painting the scene. Later that year, the company unveiled Singerly’s Call to Alarm, a fitting tribute to past firefighters who established a tradition of service and to the present members who faithfully serve the community, at a special centennial event. Artist Cohen was on hand to personally sign those first editions for Elkton’s first responders.
An article in the Singerly Connection, the official newsletter of the Singerly Fire Company, Autumn 2016
JUNE 22, 2021 – On this rainy afternoon in late June, the doors to Chesapeake City Elementary swung open for friends, alumni, and former faculty to stroll through the hallways one final time. Children returning this fall will report to the modern, new facility south of town.
The walls of this eighty-two-year-old schoolhouse went up on the south side of the canal in 1939 as people struggled to survive the Great Depression. One of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal programs financed the $135,000 job, which was awarded to Lang Brother Construction of Baltimore. They also built the Cecilton School.
That autumn in 1939, a couple of years before World War II disrupted the nation, youngsters reported to the combined school, which contained both the primary and upper grades. Edwin B. Fockler served as the principal of the high school.
The old center of learning, which had served the town since 1886, was dismantled by a Wilmington Contractor in July 1940. The wrecking company agreed to do it at no cost if they could salvage construction materials from the debris.
In 1958, Bohemia Manor High School opened and after the upper grades moved south of town this became Chesapeake City Elementary School.For eighty-two years the hallways, gym, and classrooms buzzed with activity, creating so many memories.
For additional photos see the Chesapeake City Elementary School album on Facebook.
For younger people today, it is something an earlier generation talks about. But those who lived through Tropical Storm Agnes in June 1972, will never forget the damaging force that disrupted lives along the lower Susquehanna River. Over a five-day period (June 20 to 24, 1972) the National Weather Service issued bulletins about the storm that moved along the coast, bringing torrents of rain. On June 21, 1972, the bureau downgraded Hurricane Agnes to a tropical storm, but it was bearing down on the Chesapeake.
As it wobbled across the bay, it brought a thorough soaking to Maryland. But after it passed through the state it hooked back and stalled, dropping even larger amounts of rain over the Susquehanna River watershed in New York and Pennsylvania. According to the National Weather Service, the “storm split into two centers over Pennsylvania, one hovering over the northeastern corner of the state and the other over the north-central portion.”
Just when some thought Cecil County had escaped the worst of the Agnes. the waterway and its tributaries upstream started rising dangerously, all that water headed south to Cecil and Harford counties at the mouth of the river.
Maryland thought it haD Escaped Agnes
Late on June 23, a mandatory evacuation of Port Deposit was ordered as the water continued to rise. Many evacuees were brought out by boat during an eight-hour period “as the brown water came thundering through the floodgates of the Conowingo dam with unprecedented force,” the Evening Sun Reported.
Main Street was like a canal, under 4 feet of water, the Evening Sun noted on June 24, 1972. Port Deposit was empty, having been evacuated early yesterday morning, the News-Journal added while parts of Perryville were also being evacuated.
In the center of Port, only one small part of a block of Main Street was dry. Since Port Deposit’s Water Witch Fire Company had been forced from its station house earlier by feet of water, the firefighters used this dry spot as its operational headquarters,” the Wilmington paper added. Across the river parts of Havre de Grace were being evacuated with State Police and National Guardsmen pitching in.
Port Mayor Ryan, observing the scene, said, “We’ll get by, we’ll get through.” Roland, Johnson, a Port Deposit man, since 1890, pointed to the post office at 15 S. Main Street, “See the mark on the brick wall? That’s where the water came up in the 1910 flood. That was the worst, but this one is worse than 1936.”
Clean-Up in Port Deposit
On Saturday as exhausted first responders watched, the bulk of their emergency response work having been completed as the water rushed into town, the river slowly started returning to its banks. Soon, it was time to begin the cleanup.“Never in eastern North America had a storm rained so hard across so many thousands of square miles – enough, it was calculated, to add two feet of water across the 2,500 square miles of the Chesapeake if the bay had been a reservoir, dammed at the mouth,” the Washington Post Reported.
As the nation prepares to celebrate Juneteenth, the day in 1865 when enslaved people in Galveston, Texas, heard about their freedom, we are looking at emancipation locally.
In 1860, Cecil County had nearly 24,000 residents. Sixteen percent were African Americans, and about 1,000 (4%) were enslaved. While spread across the county, this system of bondage was most deeply concentrated in Southern Cecil County–about 15% of the population in the land between the Bohemia and Sassafras rivers were enslaved.1
On January 1, 1863, President Lincoln issued his Emancipation Proclamation. However, for thousands of enslaved people locked in bondage in Maryland, it simply held out hope as the decree only offered freedom to those living in rebel states. Still, although the state was excluded, it offered prospects for the future while also causing fear and confusion as people puzzled over their status.
Father Jones, a highly respected African-American Minister in Cecil County, was “promptly on hand with Lincoln’s proclamation” in Cecilton. “But there was no one present with authority to say to the slave, you are free, so all remained in suspense,” Bishop Levi J. Coppin recalled as he wrote about those days in Cecil County.2">Life in Cecil County Around the Time of the Civil War,” Window on Cecil County’s Past, December 30, 2012 ))
Emancipation in Maryland
Under Maryland law, these people remained in chattel slavery, the property of an enslaver. So those laboring under this inhumane system had to wait until the state narrowly adopted a new Constitution in 1864, which freed enslaved men, women, and children.
That happened on November 1, and as the new instrument of government went into effect, African Americans across the state rejoiced as they now lived in a Free State, “finally and forever redeemed from the curse of slavery,” the Washington Evening Star Reported. The Christian Recorder, another newspaper, reported that there were “Colored People’s Jubilees” around Maryland. Of course, by this time, many Blacks in Cecil had taken matters into their own hands, either escaping to freedom or enlisting in the Union army.3
While lawmakers grappled with this inhumane system, Black soldiers first appeared in Cecilton. Bishop Levi J. Coppin remarked in the ” Unwritten History ” that this left no doubt about whether or not freedom would come, Bishop Levi J. Coppin noted in the “Unwritten History.” Lieutenant Brown and a company of Black soldiers arrived in the village to open a recruiting station one day in 1864. Many of these troops were from Cecilton, so they had returned to their hometown to help enlist more soldiers for the Union Army.
Of course, there was great excitement in the crossroads village and necks between the Sassafras and the Bohemia rivers as Black men under shouldered arms marched through Cecilton “without fear.” Some African Americans still held by enslavers came to the recruiting office to enlist and placed themselves under the protection of the flag. They were called the “United States Colored Troops,” Bishop Coppin remarked.
In Elkton, Lieutenant Frick arrived with a squad of five “colored soldiers.” The unit recruited “twenty-eight colored soldiers in the county seat in two weeks. 4,5
Cecilton
With the new constitution going into effect on November 1, this was Emancipation Day here. In Cecilton, when Uncle Jim Jones drove his mistress to Cecilton, a white person told him that he was free now, and it was his discretion whether or not he drove the carriage back. When Uncle Jim reached home, he told everyone what he had heard. A few evenings after that, his old master drove the carriage to town and was late returning; Uncle Jim decided to make a test of the case. He would remain to unharness the horse but said in a way that his master was sure to hear — there has to be a new understanding,” Bishop Coppin recalled.
African Americans welcomed the news in Cecil County with great enthusiasm, the joy unbounded among the people, wrote Bishop Coppin. “Besides the loud acclamations of joy expressed in shouting and singing and general hurrahs, the newly emancipated people gave vent to their feelings by going freely from place to place – a delightful privilege – and feasting and making merry . . . It was fair to suppose that everybody took some part in the general merry-making but the religious ones sought the Church as being the proper place to go and rejoice by giving thanks to Him, toward whose throne above their prayers had been so long directed. . . ,” the Unwritten History noted.
A Long Struggle for Equality Remained
Although freedom had arrived in Maryland, the reality of this period was another thing. There was the short-lived promise of Reconstruction, which was followed by a centuries-long struggle to achieve equality. Most immediately, some enslavers asked the Cecil County Orphans Court to bind newly freed Black Children to them as apprentices.
Nevertheless, November 1, 1864, was the date of emancipation for the enslaved in Cecil County, and it is an important, although forgotten, milestone in local history.
Crystal Beach made headlines every week in 1939 as the Manor Messenger, a newsletter, kept residents and guests informed about goings-on at the Cecil County vacation spot. At least for most of that summer, readers looked forward to the latest news, the four-page newsletter connecting them with all the happenings.
The inaugural edition, June 30, 1939, used a large font for the lead story, the headline announcing that Crystal Beach anticipated the biggest season in years. The mud from the dredging was gone, and a newly paved road connected vacationers to major highways on Delmarva. Everyone recalled “the difficult dirt road that once led from Earleville to the Beach. It was rutted and bumpy and after a rain, it was nigh impossible to travel.”
Memorial Day weekend drew the best crowd in years. And the Manor Messenger knew how to cover its beat as things picked up, the slim little volume managing to pack a lot of names and community events in four pages. The previous Saturday, rubber lab workers from DuPont’s Deepwater Plant in Salem County, NJ visited the Inn. The contractor erecting the new Cecilton High School, Robert Lange, brought a party of sixteen guests from Audubon, NJ to the Inn for the weekend. There was lots of additional social news.
The Beach stood at the threshold of another major improvement, the editor remarked as he penned the first editorial, “Let there be light.” Prospects of getting electricity next year would mean running water, radios, electric stoves, good lighting and a thousand of the conveniences that have been sacrificed by everyone for the fresh air, the sunshine, and water.” Hopefully next summer, “we won’t have to say to our visitors: ‘We just camp out down here!’ No, with the advent of electricity . . . we will be able to say, ‘This is our summer home!’ And be proud of our summer home.”
After providing the weekly news, the newsletter turned its attention to history. “In 1925, the old Reybold farm was subdivided and the Crystal Beach Manor Corporation formed by Dr. Lewis and Mr. Heldmyer going into the beach business.” In 1935, William. E. Schultz took over the Heldmyer interest.
Crystal Beach struggled over the handicap of a bad road, then, in 1936, the Government dredging in the Elk River almost ruined the bathing grounds by causing several inches of mud to settle on the bottom. The natural movement of the water plus a good deal of scraping, however, saved the beach. From a few cottages in 1926, the Manor has grown into a village of ninety houses and fifty camping shacks in the Grove.”
In this era Cecil County was rapidly becoming a summertime vacation spot, as Crystal Beach joined other waterfront destinations around the county.
Notes:
1. Two photocopies of the Manor Messenger from 1939 were given to us by a friend. Old sheets such as this provide unique insights into happenings. Hopefully, more of these survived as they provide a level of detail not available in other sources; 3) Electricity arrived at Crystal Beach in 1947; 3) We have shared some of the photos previously, but are reincorporating those into this updated album about Crystal Beach and its newsletter. and 3) We will scan all the newsletters so they reach anyone interested. Those items will be found on the blog, a Window on Cecil County’s Past. www.cecilcountyhistory.com. For more Crystal Beach and White Crystal Beach photos see this album. https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?vanity=cecilcountyhistory&set=a.2204829406448641
The last direct link to the Civil War was lost when 93-year-old Henry Jackson died at his home outside Perryville on a cold November day in 1939. As a teenager, he ran away from home to serve in the War, enlisting in the Union Army for three years with Snow’s Battery. After emerging unscathed from the battles at Gettysburg and Antietam, he returned home.
During a long life, the soldier who was growing old watched the ranks of his comrades, men who knew the madness of that time thin. By the early 1930s, just a few old Civil War soldiers around Cecil recalled frightened, brave boys in blue hastily forming ranks to march into harm’s way. The first-hand memories of those years, a time that called for the best from comrades, were rapidly fading, as were the sad thoughts about comrades that fell on bloody, distant battlefields.
For Memorial Day 1938, the County’s two remaining veterans were unable to take up activities. The Morning News wrote: “For the first time in years, Cecil County’s two oldest Civil War veterans, Henry W. Jackson, 92, of Aiken, and Joseph Yocum, 91 of Leeds, were unable to take part in the Memorial Day exercises” in the County.
The last survivor of Snow’s Battery B 1st Maryland Artillery attended the final reunion of Battery B in 1927, according to Find a Grave. On the 75th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg in 1938, Private Jackson participated in the veterans’ reunion, the Midland Journal added.
Joseph T. Yocum, the next to the last of Cecil County’s Civil War Soldiers, died Nov 9, 1938, at his home near Childs. He was 91 but had been blind and deaf for many years. While serving with the 3rd New Jersey Cavalry, he spent most of his active duty during the War in the Shenandoah Valley and was in the Battle of Cedar Creek with Sheridan during his raid in 1864. After the War, he worked at Marley Mills. Private Yocum was buried at the Cherry Hill Cemetery. (Midland Journal, Nov. 18, 1938, and Find a Grave)
Jackson had been born in Craigtown, and he married Elizabeth Ann Pennington of Leslie. They had ten children (eight boys and two girls), five still living in 1938. They were Winfield Scott Jackson of Texas, PA; Earl of Fishing Creek, PA; William of Rising Sun; and Mrs. Samuel Thompson of Perryville (Midland Journal, July 8, 1938).
Seventy-five years after the bloody War staggered to a close, the final Civil War Soldier, Pvt. Jackson, was laid to rest at Asbury Cemetery near Port Deposit in November 1939. He was the last local survivor of that unforgettable time. Private Jackson passed away on November 23. His wife had died in 1918.
Note:
For additional photos see this album about the last two Civil War Soldiers in Facebook
This information about Civil War Soldiers, Henry Jackson and Joseph Yocum, comes from the Mahoney Civil War Inventory of county soldiers at the Historical Society. In the 1960s, the Mahoney file established a register of men from Cecil County who fought in the war.