Montgomery County, Ohio
 | The Dayton Daily News |
The following article, written by Howard Burba, appeared in the Dayton Daily News 37 years after the original event.
WHEN THE "POOR HOUSE" MADE THE FRONT PAGE
-------But there has been such a thing as the "poor house" crashing the front page without being invited to do so. As I have said, it doesn't happen often, but it has happened, and quite a few readers of these lines will recall vividly the one time when the Montgomery Co infirmary--a far gentler word if your please--made the front page and for one whole day, held it despite the attempt of all other events of the same date to crowd it off. That was the day a steam boiler exploded out there and tragedy of a new and different sort was added to that which is constantly present, in various other forms, at this institution.
"Unprecedented in history of local fatalities was the frightful boiler explosion and its attendant results at the county infirmary, five miles west of this city, this morning," reads the leading paragraph in that tragic first-page story in The News of Sept. 21, 1895. "In the twinkling of an eye," continues the news story of that date, "two souls were wafted into eternity and simultaneously two workmen were probably fatally injured. That the toll of death was not far greater is considered a modern miracle. With a score or more of the inmates of the institution within a few paces of the scene of the explosion, it seems wonderful and truly providential that consequences were not more startling or harrowing."
So wit the date fixed, and the event recalled to the minds of those capable of thinking back to that September morning 37 years ago, let's dig up the details of the tragedy which was sufficiently important at the time to spread itself over the front page of an earlier generation's favorite local newspaper.
There had for several years previous to the day of the explosion been an insufficient water supply at the county infirmary. Time and again it has been called to the attention of county officials, and as many times the question of how to provide sufficient water to meet all possible demands of the inmates was evaded. Finally matters reached the point where evasion was no longer possible, so the commissioners entered into a contract with one William Johnson, a local well-driller, whereby he was to sink a number of wells near the main building.
One of these wells had been sunk in the rear of the insane ward, and on the morning of the tragedy Johnson and his men were engaged in walling it up and putting on the finishing touches, a generous stream of water having been struck. Near the well stood the old engine that has been used in drilling, an outfit similar to that still in use by well-drillers and not unlike the motive power we are accustomed to seeing with the ordinary wheat threshing outfit.
The fireman had a full head of steam in the boiler by the time the well-drilling crew arrived on the job, and was standing nearby, chatting with several residents of the institution, when the explosion occurred. The blast, sufficiently loud to be heard at the Soldiers' Home, a mile away, rocked the rear wall of the main infirmary building, causing that part of it sheltering the insane patients to collapse. Within a moment pandemonium reigned as escaping steam and the debris from the crumbling wall enveloped in blinding clouds all those who had been working or idling on that part of the infirmary grounds.
As the escaping steam was wafted away, and flying debris had settled down officials and residents rushed to the scene from the front of the building. Bodies were lying scattered about the wreckage, and it was naturally supposed that many of the insane patients had been trapped and killed beneath the fallen walls. Chaos reigned, and the work of rescue was hampered by the shouts and cries of those unable to leave their beds or to escape beyond the iron bars which imprisoned them. For a brief time it was impossible for the officials to lend their attention to the work of rescue, every effort on their pat being required to prevent a serious outbreak of the insane patients. Such a contingency was averted, however, and the work of rescue began...
[This article continues to quote the original article from September 21, 1895, and will not be repeated here.]
...But that was the concluding chapter in the infirmary tragedy, insofar as the newspapers were concerned--the first and possibly the last time it had shoved aside all other happenings and found its way to the front page. there were other events clamoring for that favored spot in the local news sheets of the day. And people were too busy to concern themselves with a prolonged investigation of the case with a view to placing the blame.
The infirmary had its hour in the limelight. It was just another chapter in the history of an institution that is founded on tragedy, the inmates of which breathe the very air of tragedy. So life went on as usual in the big world surrounding the infirmary. But in its own little world the boiler explosion marked a date that was not so readily put aside. To this day it is recalled out there as the first instance in which the county infirmary claimed a place on the front page for an entire day.