Feature
Marquette's First Autos -
Larry Chabot
On Marquette's Front Street,
where hundreds of vehicles ascend the hill on a typical day, once
there was only one. On August 31, 1899, little more than a century
ago, dozens of residents were astounded by the sight of a horseless
carriage putt-putting up the Front Street hill. They had just become
witnesses to the first automobile ever seen in the Queen City.
Had Beetle Bailey's Gen. Amos Half-track been there, he'd
have slapped his forehead and muttered his trademark, "NOW what...?"
The Weekly Mining Journal recorded the event in its September 2nd
edition under the headline: "Excited Much Curiosity Everywhere."
H. S. Pickands and H. B. Tuttle, two gentlemen from Cleveland,
were ending a fifteen-day, 1,000-mile trip when they reached town
in a Winton automobile late Thursday, August 31, 1899 and drove to
the home of Mrs. Anna Goodwin at 317 East Arch Street. Emitting a
strange puffing noise, the car came up Front "at a rapid rate
of speed and as it passed by, scores of people ran to the sidewalk
to get their first glimpse of a horseless carriage," said the
newspaper. "No vehicle of the description has ever been seen
in Marquette. Speeds [are] from zero to 15 miles per hour. The auto
can instantly be started and can be run both forward and backward."
The previous day, Tuttle had slogged into town on humbler
transportation, riding atop a farm horse in search of gasoline for
the auto which had run dry sixteen miles down the road. After getting
common stove gas at the Standard Oil office, he "horsed"
back to the car and his partner Pickands.
Was this the county's first car as well? A claim has been
made that the first auto appeared in Palmer. The 1972 Richmond Township
centennial booklet stated that "the first cars in [Palmer] came
in the late 1890s. There were three cars in the area around 1896.
Prominent in their introduction and servicing was Paul Honkavaara."
Born in Finland in 1871 and a Palmer resident since 1892, Honkavaara
was advertising in the Mining Journal as early as May 11, 1905, with
an Orient Buckboard for $375, capable of 35 mph, "climbs any
hill, rides like a parlor car." The busy Honkavaara also operated
buses, funeral coaches and an 'auto stage line,' owned a grocery store
and served as postmaster from 1905 to 1906.
There's no question about the first homemade car. In the
winter of 1900-1901, C. H. Bloomstrom, manager of Lake Shore Engine
Works, built a motor vehicle around one of his marine engines. However,
it couldn't climb hills so the project was abandoned. Blomstrom later
managed Queen Automobile Co. in Detroit which was owned by Marquette's
Kaufman family. The Kaufmans and a Queen auto figured in the city's
first auto fatality, as we shall see.
In 1902 J. E. Ball brought in an Oldsmobile and ran it
through tough climbing tests on some of the city's worst hills. "He
had a little trouble," admitted the Journal, "getting up
from the foot of Ridge street, but he had four people in the vehicle
and had not thoroughly mastered...the driving gear." Ball planned
a trip out to Forestville but the Journal doubted he could climb the
steep hill at the electric power station. "The automobile will
probably be given a trial [run] to Ishpeming," the paper said.
"This trip has been made before by similar carriages of greater
horsepower," like the Pickards-Tuttle car from Cleveland in 1900.
In 1903 S. W. Shaull proved that bigger is better when
he brought in a Buffalo car, a lower and more powerful machine than
any seen here previously. It had a top speed of 25 mph and held six
passengers (but only if two were children). Shaull easily made all
the city's hills without stopping. These early drivers seemed to have
a common goal: to conquer Marquette's many hills. Many a news story
about a new vehicle mentioned its climbing ability.
The following year, Oldsmobile brought three demonstration
cars to Marquette where their agent, D. B. Huss, sold them out of
his hotel room. Also in 1904, Austin Farrell bought a four-seat Olds
which he shipped in by boat, and Morgan Jopling purchased what historian
Kenyon Boyer figured was a legendary Stanley Steamer. Although frequently
down for repairs, it had good speed and could easily conquer the Front
Street hill, which was becoming the county's Mt. Everest.
Cars got still bigger. In 1905 Austin Farrell was back
with a powerful 24 hp Cleveland, with which he made the Glad-stone-Marquette
run of 60 miles in only 10 hours. However, he had considerable help
from a team of horses which pulled him many miles through the muck.
The horses and car were completely covered with mud at trip's end.
1906 saw the first known industrial vehicle. The light
and power commission, according to Kenyon Boyer, purchased a used
Pope-Waverly electric car to replace a team of horses for the summer.
The car had a top, made 15 mph on a good road, and went round-trip
to Ishpeming on a single battery charge. The commission tried to rent
it out at $1.00 an hour in the off-hours but Boyer was unable to discover
if there were any takers.
DON'T SPOOK THE HORSES
That same year, 1906, a local man named Ralph Eldredge drove the family
car to Ishpeming on an old two-rut road, stopping often to fill the
radiator from roadside creeks. On a longer ride to Wisconsin he reported
getting up just the right speed to fly over culverts laid across the
roads. Eldredge also told Boyer of two other customs. First, since
there were no gas stations, drivers carried as many 5-gallon gas cans
as they could find and fill. Second, when meeting a horse, a car always
stopped while the horse was led quietly past it.
In 1907, the streets were crowded with half a dozen vehicles,
including two Mit-chells, two Oldsmobiles and a Pierce-Arrow with
a jump seat behind a front fender. All of these vehicles had under-seat
engines with side crank, no windshields, and nearly useless lights.
The city fathers became concerned over all the traffic; they condemned
reckless driving, requested that Washington street be water-sprinkled
to keep down dust, and stationed a plainclothes man on Fourth Street
to nab the drivers they called "scorchers."
By 1909 cars became everyone's business when The Mining
Journal began listing vehicles and their owners. The June 25 edition,
headlined "Auto Craze Here In Dead Earnest," listed thirty
cars in the city. The Kaufmans owned five vehicles, John Longyear
had a twelve-passenger sedan, Flannigan Bros. had a truck and enormous
twenty-passenger car, and Pioneer Motors owned four sixteen-passenger
sightseeing giants. Two auto agencies were listed—R. Eddy Matthews'
Ford dealership and Herman Gruenwald's Hupp agency. There was no mention
of Palmer's Paul Honkavaara, who was selling cars as early as 1905,
and the J. H. Fenner dealership at 700 Champion Street in Marquette.
Completion of the Marquette-Ishpeming road ("one
of the most beautiful drives in the country") boosted car sales.
The road was "well-nigh perfect," said the Journal, which
also promoted the trip to and around Presque Isle.
In 1910 the Journal reported that there were now at least
fifty autos in the city, including eighteen new ones. Total value
of the cars was estimated at $75,000. The whole county had over 100
vehicles. Weal-thier residents, it was noted, had two vehicles: a
touring car and a roadster. There were three dealers: Pioneer Motors
was selling the E-M-F (which wags said meant "Every-Minute-Fix"),
Studebaker-Garfords, and Flanders-Grabowsky Power Wagons, while Ward
Powell sold Buicks and Ed Weiser handled Brushes.
In May of 1910, Negaunee merchants wanted Iron Street
paved before July Fourth so marchers and vehicles (many from Marquette)
would no longer have to parade in deep mud. And when the mud dried
up, they said the resulting dust blew down the street, got into their
stores, and ruined the merchandise. The Marquette-Negaunee road also
came in for criticism when the county road chief asked drivers to
use "all of the surface instead of traveling in one place and
making ruts."
On October 12, 1910, The Mining Journal featured two couples
who'd just returned from motoring through the Mid-west. The T. G.
Peeples of Marquette and A. M. Dotys of Munising, in the Doty's Buick
Model 16, toured lower Michigan, Indiana, Illinois and Wisconsin.
Inter-viewed much like celebrities returning from fabulous adventures
in far-off lands, the couples provided their detailed itinerary as
well as their studied opinions of the conditions of the roads, farms,
barns, cattle, weather and politics they encountered on the trip.
Betty Waring wrote in Harlow's Wooden Man that 1910 also
saw the first Model T Ford in Big Bay, but drive time was limited
to the few months when roads were passable. Teams of horses often
pulled cars up hills or out of mud holes. If a gas tank was nearly
empty, she wrote, the driver backed up a hill so gas could flow from
the tank to the engine. About this same time, Ned Watson (as told
to Kenyon Boyer) made an emergency trip from Big Bay to Marquette
in a Hupmobile. Driving over logs, boulders and through mud holes,
he was happy to report that he made the 25 miles "in less than
seven hours."
Eventually, autos killed off the opposition. The Negaunee-Ishpeming
streetcar line, founded in 1892, ground to a halt in 1927. Marquette's
line closed in 1935. A combined total of thirty-three carriage and
wagon makers, harness makers, liveries and stables flourished in 1908;
by 1929 they'd all disappeared. Express and dray lines dropped from
thirty-two to three in the same period.
DEATH ON FRONT STREET
July 2nd through 4th in the year 1913 was a landmark in
county automotive history, starting with the July 2nd killing of George
Williamson's horse by Elmer Lessard. "Negaunee Horse Killed By
Ford Car" headlined the Journal. Williamson was driving his horse
and carriage down Division Street late that evening with Ed Foley
as a passenger when two cars came roaring toward them, going from
"side to side taking up the entire width of the road." Lessard's
Ford couldn't avoid the carriage and slammed directly into the horse's
chest. The horse died in agony. Passenger Foley was injured. Elmer
Lessard was sued by Williamson for loss of the horse. And the other
racer, Ben Hassenger, was arrested for exceeding the 10 mph speed
limit.
People were still buzzing about the horse when the Fourth
of July brought a worse disaster. The day was fair and warm, with
a noontime temperature of sixty-two. In Detroit, the Tigers were losing
a doubleheader to Cleveland. President Woodrow Wilson was speaking
at the Civil War battlefield in Gettysburg, Penn. Two prisoners escaped
from the Iron Mountain jail.
Marquette was having a quiet Fourth, with only an occasional
firecracker breaking the stillness. At the country club, T. M. Cunningham
shot an 89 to take the early lead in the annual holiday golf tournament.
The most activity was at the railroad stations where city residents
crowded onto trains heading for Ishpeming and Negaunee holiday celebrations.
About 1,900 tickets were sold at the South Shore station alone. LS&I
and Munising, Marquette & Southeastern stations also handled very
large crowds. Marquette's population of 11,500 was rapidly dwindling.
At 2:00 p.m., at the northwest corner of Front and Ridge
streets, Dr. Samuel Janes was standing at the curb watching traffic.
He was halfway between his office at 204 West Ridge and his home and
hospital at 423 North Front when he had paused in front of the Lewis
Bosworth residence (now the Marquette Federation of Women's Clubs).
Dr. Janes could look south at the Peter White Library,
east at the First Methodist Church, or catty-corner at First Baptist
Church (now the Landmark Hotel's parking lot). Below the Baptist church
was Edward McIntosh Auto Sales. Downhill from the library, in the
current Historical Society building, were Alexander La Val-lee's bakery
and James Trethewey's wallpaper and paint store. Dr. Janes's attention
was suddenly drawn to his left, where an automobile was rapidly approaching
on East Ridge street. Very shortly, the driver would lay dead at his
feet.
A two-and-a-half ton, seven-passenger Queen Deluxe automobile
owned by banker and hotelier Nathan Kaufman had picked up his brother
Sam Kaufman at Sam's home at 477 East Arch and proceeded to the home
of the Kaufmans' brother-in-law, Dr. Edward Hudson, at 335 East Ridge,
where Sam got out. The auto then tore down Ridge to its date with
Dr. Janes. Driving the car—one of the largest and heaviest in
the city—was Kaufman family chauffeur Henry Riehl, age twenty-nine.
As Sam Kaufman got out of the car, chauffeur Riehl said
he had to hurry to the St. Paul train station because he was late
in picking up Nathan Kaufman and other family members. Sam told him
to take it slow because the St. Paul sleeping car carrying Nathan
would arrive an hour later, attached to a South Shore train. Riehl
ignored this suggestion and took off in a hurry. Some who saw him
on Ridge said he drove "swiftly but not at too high a speed."
Another source said he was running at "high speed."
When he reached Front, the chauffeur made a wide but proper
left turn to head downhill, but the car's speed, weight and momentum
caused the front wheels to skid to the right as the machine turned.
The left front wheel then hit a protruding streetcar track foundation,
tipping the car to the right and putting the entire weight on the
right wheels. As the car pivoted, the right front wheel collapsed,
gouging a furrow in the pavement. The car flipped upside down in front
of the library, pinning Riehl under the front seat.
Dr. Janes ran a few feet to find Riehl on his stomach
under the machine. The doctor knew at a glance that Riehl was dead.
The back of the front seat had crushed his skull, and death was instantaneous.
It took several minutes for the heavy car to be lifted off the dead
man, then Riehl's body was placed on the grass near the library steps
and later taken to Tonella's funeral parlor. The wrecked car was towed
to the Kaufman garage.
"Car Turns Over Killing Driver" blared The Mining
Journal headline. "Shocking automobile fatality," the paper
said. Riehl was "hurled to his doom hardly knowing what happened....[there
is] deep regret on every hand at the death of 'Heinie' Riehl...The
shocking fatality at so prominent a corner attracted several hundred
people to the scene within a few minutes. The fatality was almost
the only topic of conversation wherever people assembled."
Riehl's death was a deep blow to the Kaufmans, for whom
he'd driven for seven years. Ironically, he first worked for the Kaufmans
in their Queen Deluxe auto factory in Detroit, where the death car
was built. Known as a trusted and careful operator, Riehl drove the
Kaufman children everywhere, including in New York City and Chicago.
He had a large circle of friends and was popular and well-liked by
everyone in Marquette.
Sam Kaufman wired Riehl's brother Fred in Dayton, Ohio
with the bad news and requested that he come for the remains. The
brother couldn't make the trip so the body was shipped by train. It
was escorted to the station by an Elks honor guard and accompanied
to Ohio by Riehl's friend Ona T. Manes of the Michigan State Telephone
Co. A coroner's jury returned a verdict of accidental death in what
was probably Marquette's first automobile fatality.
What happened to the players in this tragedy? Dr. Janes,
a Canadian surgeon who came to Marquette in 1903, was in partnership
with Dr. O. G. Youngquist and later Dr. A. L. Swinton, in addition
to running his own practice and hospital. He retired in 1933, continued
to live in Mar-quette, and died in 1938 at age seventy-six while visiting
his daughter in Connecticut.
Nathan Kaufman, who waited in vain at the station, marked
his fifty-first birthday that sad day. He had founded Marquette County
Savings Bank, was chairman of the Mining Journal Co., had mining and
brewing investments and was Marquette's mayor in 1893-94. With brother
Sam, he owned the popular Congress Hotel in Chicago where he was president
and general manger, and also had a home at 334 East Ridge in Marquette.
Nathan died in California in 1918 at age fifty-six.
Samuel Kaufman, whom Riehl dropped off before the accident,
was also prominent in Marquette banking and mining. After Nathan's
demise, he managed the Congress Hotel in Chicago until his own death
there in 1922, also at age fifty-six.
Dr. Edward Hudson, a Marquette resident for fifty years,
was married to the Kaufman's sister Miriam. He was manager of Pioneer
Iron Co. in Marquette (which later became Cliffs Dow) and was Marquette's
mayor from 1928 to 1934. He died in 1949.
The house at Front and Ridge was home to master mechanic
Lewis Bosworth and his wife Eliza, a dressmaker. George Shiras III
later bought the house to prevent its being turned into a gas station
and leased it to the Women's Federation, which moved in in June of
1926. Shiras later deeded the building to them.
As for the deceased Henry Riehl, he wouldn't have been
late for the train after all. Sam Kaufman had been right about the
arrival time for Nathan's sleeper car. There really was no need to
hurry. MM
