Speedy and the 1916 Brookville baseball team

- Brookville Democrat 

Over various searches of interesting people from the old town or from the olden days, we stumble over new sources here and there. One of those people is Fred H. Miller, a long-ago semi-famous local guy who played part of a season in the Major Leagues.

Miller, a lefthanded pitcher who was born in Fairfield, spent some of the 1910 season with the Brooklyn Superbas, who years later were renamed the Dodgers. Miller's career was short, and his professional resume is – at best – mediocre. But it existed.

He managed to come back to the Whitewater Valley in 1914 and became a member of the Brookville semipro team, a team that was not unlike thousands of them across the country: Weekend warriors who gathered, formed a league and went full-tilt into the summer with as much ambition as they could muster. They took the game seriously, and so did the fans.

The team during those years was owned and operated by a Cincinnati businessman named "Judge" R.L. Head. Head seems to be a quite interesting person who was involved in 1910 with the imaginary concept of "wireless telephone service."

But the Judge was a doer and a mover. He knew people and he apparently had some extra walkin'-around cash. He drove an Oakland. He knew enough people to get his own Brookville team scheduled for games where the Reds played. 

The 1916 Brookville team revealed itself in a newspaper article in May of that year. Speedy Miller was the team's first baseman and had been with the team for a couple of seasons. By then, his pitching career was in the rear-view mirror.

Two of Miller's teammates were members of the 1913 Covington Blue Sox, a minor league professional team that came within a half-season of lasting long enough to become a major league operation. The term "flop" applies well here.

The Blue Sox are not terribly important in the long version and are marginally interesting in the short term. Although, it brings the Fairfield-Brookville area a touch closer to the Big Time. If you dig deep enough, you find a story. The story grows.

The photo shows Miller in the top row, second from the left.

The guy in the front row, left, is Ed Cefalu, who was one of the Blue Sox players Another pitcher, Ed Sanford, was their star 'twirler' for part of the season, although he didn't pitch the whole summer. He isn't in the photo. Pffffffffffft. 

Semipro baseball in the olden days was a town event. Fans followed the team quite closely. They passed the hat.

There was less baseball in 1917-18 due to men being conscripted into the military for World War I. The work-or-fight orders were fairly clear. Fred H. Miller and many others show up as men who did county road work. Speedy was a farmer and likely was exempted from the Army due to rules about "essential" occupations. 

One event strikes as especially fun -- The May 7, 1903, edition of the Brookville paper tells us that "Speedy" struck out 21 batters in high school games against Aurora and Lawrenceburg. But he also plunked four batters.

Miller did pitch the 1907 season at Jackson, Miss., according to a news report. 

This is from 1906. Later, he left the Pittsburgh organization and joined the Brooklyn franchise. Lefthanders who threw hard were always in demand, even if they were raw talent. The Pirates were among the most successful teams in the majors in the 1904-10 era. One report from May 1910 says the Superbas bought Speedy's contract from Chattanooga for $1,200. Two months later, he was in the majors, throwing nearly 7 innings in his debut against the Pirates. 

Speedy's last big-league game was in August of 1910. The score was 14-0. 

THE SPEEDY MILLER BLOG ITEM IS HERE

THE 1919 REDS BLOG ITEM IS HERE

^^

THE BLUE SOX

In 1913, a group of sports enthusiasts sought to create another professional league. But the Federal League of 1913 found itself more ambitious than practical, which had Covington in the crosshairs of the process. The Federal wanted to cut into a market in Cincinnati, since the established Reds worked in a town that was feverish about baseball. It was, after all, the place where pro baseball got its symbolic start in 1869.

Fans in Cincy showed up for the games at Redland Field (later, Crosley Field) and the men who wanted a slice of that decided Covington would be a good spot to place a Federal League team, with the notion it would be “major” a year later.

The league's business model was a disaster. They did more harm than good by trying to pry fans away from established teams. In the days before radio, a shortage of fans meant bankruptcy. That was Covington's undoing. Their ballpark was essentially useless and fans who followed the Reds had little taste for the team. The park was near the river and often flooded.

Midway through the 1913 season, Covington moved its team to Kansas City. A year later, the Feds arrived. For the time being.

The Federal collapsed in 1915 under the financial strain and insider dealings that allowed the wealthier owners to leverage themselves into the mainstream. All that remains of the league that fans recognize is the ballpark that eventually became Wrigley Field in Chicago.

Grocers

 These photos are pilfered from Town Under the Lake, but we won't be worried.

Willie T. and Nannie Davis ran the grocery on the corner until 1964.

Bert Luker ran the other store. He retired a little earlier than the Davises did.

Doctor Linegar

Ranging from patent medicines to payday loans, the good druggist was also called once to testify in a drawn-out divorce proceeding of a woman in Greensburg who was accused of mental illness amid her infidelity. Not clear was the matter of sexual orientation. Messy stuff. It went on for 3 years in one form or other. It isn't clear on what his testimony might have included.

Not that it mattered, but a 1925 Atlas shows Mary Cory and John Linegar owned adjoining farms south of Fairfield near the river. Suppose ... nah? She just bought the building, right? And rented it to the good doctor. Sure, whatever. 

Dr. Linegar died in March 1923. He was only 60. His father, Daniel, had been a surgeon in the Union Army during the Civil War. 

Doc Linegar had other connections to Greensburg, namely brothers Oscar and Daniel, who ran a somewhat prosperous mercantile operation. They probably didn't lend money, though. This ad is from 1918, during the war. 

You could call either number.

Sheds we did not call home

 Offices, workshops:

Abe Preston's doctor's office was next to ... um ... the Preston house on Main Street. Story was, the people at Indiana University were originally curious about the contents of the little office, which was just cluttering up the runway for years. When the thing was dismantled and sent to Bloomington, it just cluttered up the runway there for years.

Eventually all the stuff went away, and IU people shrugged and said they didn't know what happened to the office, or its contents. 

This would be Bob and Lois Preston's actual house.

An old shed next to Ned Parker's house on Main Street. Ned's actual house was nothing more than a log cabin. Maybe the original log cabin in Fairfield, maybe the first one ever built. 

The shed was also fascinating because it was once the workshop of fabled bootmaker M.H. Thurston. His actual time in town isn't clear, but he did have an ad in the paper in 1854, suggesting he wasn't in Fairfield at the time. He was likely there about 20 years later. 

Ned's actual house being taken apart.

Howard Snider had a woodworking shop next to an office next to his house. 

Story was, the Quonset hut was moved. No idea why. 

This was Howard's actual house.

This is what our school looked like after a couple of years

of being closed and abandoned. 

It was taken apart and became somebody else's shed.

A winter tale in summer

One of Fairfield's most eloquent and fascinating people was the legendary Theo Dickerson, who was a teacher, a historian, author and more. Dickerson's name appears so frequently throughout the late 1800s and forward that it's enough to just say T.D.

In one particular article he penned for the Brookville Democrat, in 1916, is a most curious piece. It dealt with the "year without a summer."

1816. 

That same year in December, Indiana was admitted to the union, Fairfield was a year old and the rest of the Northern Hemisphere was either starving or freezing. The summer with no warmth.

Crops failed. Birds died. Fish froze. The end was near.

The 1916 article came essentially as part of a yearlong celebration in Indiana as the centennial year, and virtually anything 'historical' had value. There is a BLOG PIECE on that, as if you wondered.

That particular summer of 1816 was really the result of an event that happened an entire year earlier -- a huge volcanic eruption in the Asian area around Java. It was known as Tomboro, or Tambora, and even at the time, the blast was considered the worst in global history. The measure of 'worst' was relative, but not much ever compared to it.

Descriptions from those who witnessed the destruction range from awe-inspiring to no-that-is-not-possible. 

The ash and volcanic gas rose hundreds of miles into the sky and began to drift. A year later, the clouds were so thick that summer never arrived.

Dickerson says farmers planted their corn three times. Nothing grew. An April blossom spurt fizzled in May and temperatures were in the low 40s in July. Elsewhere in Europe and Asia, the famine was intense. Food riots ensued. People only knew there was no grain; they did not know why. 

Until more than a year later, the explanation came.

Indiana plugged along and built its new state in December without saying much about the year it never got warm enough to get a tan.

It's a story that's out there, but it isn't one that is often discussed. History tends to create its own magical moments. The reality is that another such Tambora could happen any minute. It's not clear on how we'd deal with it now, owing to instant news. Outcomes might vary but we have better weapons now -- both for survival and destruction.

A link to a blog piece from 2015 on Dickerson.

Random houses in town (2)

 Random, meaning in no particular order for no particular purpose with no stated agenda. These were just places where people lived. Houses with a finite value, based on a government formula. Memories that were of no importance to people who never lived there. 

Random houses in town (1)

 No distinction on owners, since you didn't know them anyway. The eclectic nature of a town creates varied architecture. Toward the end, the places were starting to look seedy. In their heyday, they were home.

Photos from the Himelick collection

Letters

 A century or more ago, the postman knew where you lived. 

A C Carter was an ESQ

Humboldt, Kansas (no idea on the year)

Nancy E. Laforge of Letts Corner, Indiana (near Greensburg). 

 

Stamp enthusiasts might take a liking to these beauties.

A Post Office database shows a Fairfield Post Office on record in 1898, although it was probably not very active. 

Richard H, Tyner, who was also a shopkeeper, was listed as the Postmaster. Tyner is an interesting study. His brother James served as a member of Congress as well as U.S. Postmaster General in the Grant administration. 

Richard's mother was Martha Sedgwick (Noble) Tyner. She was a sister to Noah Noble, one of Indiana's governors who came from Brookville. Another brother James was once appointed to the U.S. Senate. Noble County in Indiana is named for one or the other. 

Richard (1831-1907) was in business with Albert Miller, whose daughter was Richard's wife. His failing health forced him to sell his store, apparently to George Jinks. 

This little dwelling has been identified as a lot of things, 

but it's probably where the post office was located -- next to the Masonic Lodge. 

Snapshots of the area around the lake

 

The top photo is directed toward the dam, facing south. This is the boat launch just north of Brookville off SR 101.

The bottom photo is the narrow Farm Hill Road linking Causeway Road with Bath Road, west of SR 101. 

Nothing particularly poignant about either photo. In the 1960s, you could not have taken these two pictures.

Our architectural paradise

 The three main buildings in downtown Fairfield are iconic only to people who have a memory of the town. To each, there is a specific memory, or a general one. These old structures were just there, doing what they did in the hundred-plus years they existed. 

There might be evidence on their origins, what they cost, where the building materials came from, what their overall purpose served. Three-story buildings in the 1800s were considered skyscrapers.

Fairfield, as just 'another town' along the river, didn't merit these architectural shrines. Yet, there they stood, to the end. Floors were warped, the ceilings were water-stained and none of them cared if you couldn't climb the steps.

Those upper floors? Not for kids. Not for discussion.

Some of it was used for dwelling space. 

And over the years, for many goods and services. All of it interesting.

The Town Hall:

The K of P lodge (also apartments and various mercantile businesses):

The Masonic Hall:

Not much in these photos that reveals much. But if you are looking for the Golden Age of Fairfield and the East Fork, you found it. Note the architecture. If you know the trends, you can date the structures. The fire escape ladder on the Lodge wall is intriguing. Nobody ever had to use it. 

These photos do not represent their original charm, obviously, since the pictures were taken after Fairfield was doomed. Upkeep had long ceased. How much longer could these buildings have stood? 

Giza.

Street views of Fairfield

This one is from the south end of town. Looking north on Main, the Methodist Parsonage is on the right, across from the Ashland station.

This is looking south on Main at Mulberry Street

This is Bath Road coming into town from the East. 

From the west toward the covered bridge. All of this is under Fairfield Marina.

This was Columbia Street.

This is Main at the Square, looking north. 

House on the right was once the Fairfield Hotel.

Looking north on Main Street