Labeled the Great Fire of Jamestown, a blaze that almost destroyed the entire downtown business district and claimed the lives of two firefighters started 100 years ago today.
The fire, which began in the Gokey Shoe Factory located on the east side of Cherry Street between Third and Fourth streets, ended up burning for three days and was the last major blaze fought by a volunteer firefighter force in the city of Jamestown.
"Basically everything between Second and Fourth streets from Cherry Street to Main was either destroyed or seriously damaged," said Leo Duliba, retired city firefighter and historian. "Two firefighters died in that fire and several others were seriously injured. But what you have to remember is that this happened in 1910. There were no fire trucks, no automated equipment, and it happened in the middle of a sleet storm."
Duliba explained that the fire started in the attic of the factory, and was reported around 1 a.m. on March 12, 1910.
"The shoe factory was 10 stories tall on one side, and eight stories tall on the other. And at the time, it was the biggest building in the city," Duliba said. "Alarm box 122, which was on Third Street near Main Street, was pulled first and from there, firefighters from across the city responded."
The firefighting technology of the day was similar in principle to modern tools, but much more primitive. All "trucks" were horse-drawn, and the aerial truck with the extendable ladder was hand-operated.
"It was a very cold night with winds in the 40-mile-per-hour range, and there was a sleet storm," Duliba said. "The crews fought an uphill battle in every sense of the expression, and at the end of it all, the city was missing a large part of its business district and it had claimed the lives of two firefighters."
TWO FALLEN FIREFIGHTERS & THE FIRST DAY'S FIGHT
The fire was believed to start in the attic of the Gokey Shoe Factory, which stood diagonally across the intersection of Third and Cherry streets from the Wellman Building, a building which is still standing today and scheduled for renovation by the Gebbie Foundation.
The fire consumed much of the block to Mechanics Alley and Fourth Street and by the end of the battle, there was enough rubble to prove it.
The flames consumed the top three floors before firefighters had initial control over it, and a huge water tank which was on the roof came crashing onto Mechanics Alley below, reportedly leaving a 75-foot by 30-foot wake of destruction on its way down.
In the alley was a set of high-voltage breakers which routed electricity to the entire city and business district. One city firefighter who was also a lineman with the electrical company went into the alley to attempt a manual disconnect, and was faced with the unexpected.
"As Capt. Jonathan Hanson went into the alley, that water tower gave way and he was struck down by falling debris hitting him in the head," Duliba said. "He died later as a result of that."
There was a catwalk connecting the two buildings across Mechanics Alley and three firefighters were on it when that water tower came crumbling down. Second Lt. Joel Oberg fell with the tower and was later rescued from under a pile of wreckage while the other firefighters were left dangling above the jagged ground below. One jumped, caught a window sill and was pulled to safety by fellow firefighters. Another leaped and caught a hose, which he straddled to the ground. All three men sustained serious, but non-life-threatening injuries.
Another firefighter named Alfred F. Shoesmith was killed when, in the thick smoke of the fire, he climbed the ladder to the fifth floor and looked inside with a lantern. With zero visibility, he stepped inside the broken window and fell all the way to the basement, as the floors had already given out. Shoesmith landed on some heavy machinery and was killed instantly, Duliba said.
When it was questionable whether the fire would destroy the entire business district, a message was sent to Buffalo via telegraph, and the men and equipment were being loaded on a train when they received the message that things were under control.
The fire was eventually put out that evening, and the men, horses and equipment were all brought back to their respective six stations throughout the city. Jamestown also received help from the few other fire departments in the area, including those from Falconer, Lakewood and Celoron.
The firefighters fed and dried their horses, cleaned up their equipment and went home for the evening, presumably exhausted and cold. The peace in the city lasted throughout the night, but was not meant to be permanent.
A CONFLAGRATION REKINDLED & AN UNSUNG HERO
It was around 6 p.m. the next day when Fire Chief Wilson walked past the hole in downtown Jamestown and saw something unsettling. The high winds that plagued the area for days managed to provide enough oxygen to the hot embers in the debris to rekindle, burning the already decimated Gokey Shoe Factory.
With weary firefighters flooding back into downtown Jamestown, it wasn't long before the wind blew flaming embers onto adjacent buildings, threatening the business district once again.
"When the Sherman Hotel caught on fire, it was at full occupancy," Duliba said. "The building was billed as 'fireproof,' but at the end of the fire, it was just a three-sided pile of rubble. But when those on the inside first learned it had caught fire, all hell broke loose."
The Sherman Hotel, which stood where Covenant Manor is today, was the largest and most modern hotel in Western New York at the time. A full-service establishment, it had 150 rooms and encompassed five floors. Duliba said the management of the hotel simply abandoned the building and all the people inside. If it wasn't for the heroic and selfless efforts of one young man who disappeared into the cloud of history a short time later, there would have been hundreds of people dead.
"A young man working as the elevator operator in the hotel at the time is personally responsible for evacuating and saving more than 150 people as it was on fire," Duliba said. "That 'fireproof' building was burning to the ground and aside from Leon Verous, the 19- or 20-year-old elevator operator, no one was there to help the guests."
Verous fought through the thick smoke in the hallways to knock on every door and get every last person out of the building. With electricity being cut, the stairs were the only option for traveling from floor-to-floor and he reportedly crawled on his stomach to each room and helped everyone out.
"It was dark and filled with smoke and despite the odds, he got everyone out of that building," Duliba said. "When he finally made it outside, he collapsed on Cherry Street from smoke inhalation. He was revived at the scene but from there, he just kind of disappeared into history. I've tried to find out what ever became of his life, and couldn't find any records on him. It's a mystery of sorts."
It wasn't long before the Sherman Hotel was a burned pile of trash along with the adjacent buildings along Third Street toward Main Street. The fire burned through March 14, and when it was finally out for good, the city looked like someone had called in an airstrike of modern warfare.
Where restaurants, stores, factories and utility offices once stood was now just piles and piles of burned building materials and the memory of a city that once was.
With the city set to celebrate Centennial Week from Aug. 9 to Sept. 4 that year, it publicized that their new motto was "August or Bust," stating on a postcard that "Fire can't stop us. We'll be ready on time."
In 1910, the Jamestown Fire Department was an entirely volunteer force comprised of 150 men, six stations and eight companies. Duliba said that in the years before the disastrous fire, the city's insurance underwriters cautioned about having a non-professional fire department, considering the close proximity of the buildings in the downtown business district.
"Back then, the city didn't believe they needed a paid fire department and many of the members at the time only joined for social and business reasons," Duliba said. "But a year later when the professional department was created, the city only kept the best of the best. Although it's a much smaller force today, with things being the way they are, it is the same one serving the city. So when these two men died, it wasn't in vain, and the city was better protected for their efforts."
Leo Duliba's book about the history of the Jamestown Fire Department is still available for purchase through the city fire department at Station 1, located beneath city hall. Copies of A Transition in Red cost $15 with the money benefiting a scholarship provided through the Morton Club. Anyone looking to purchase one can stop by the station or call 483-7597 for more information.
