The Last Raft - When A Historical Re-Enactment Killed Seven People
In 1938, seven men were killed in a re-enactment of a lumber raft going down the Susquehanna river. The raft, on a trip from McGees Mills to Harrisburg, crashed into a pier at Muncy, flinging passengers into the river, where many were rescued, but seven drowned.
A few days after the crash, members of the crew stole the docked raft, and finished the trip to [near] Harrisburg. It would be more than a month before all seven bodies were recovered, and at one point, dynamite was used in an attempt to raise the bodies to the surface.
Last Raft Model on display at the Montgomery Library
Here's a look at the history behind the Last Raft Re-enactment, what caused experienced raftman to crash a raft after maneuvering much trickier obstacles, and others stories from that tragic event in 1938
There was a time, a long time, when the Susquehanna was filled with log rafts each spring. as many as two thousand log rafts a year once floated through Clearfield. Between 1840 and 1890, the lumber taken out of the region was to be measured in the hundred millions of board feet. Practically all of this vast amount of timber went down the river in the form of log rafts. - G.A. Stewart, Associated Press article
Read more about the original lumber boom along the West Branch here:
Notice the crowd lining the railroad bridge. This was common in every town along the route - crowds also lined the banks of the river.
In 1938, the Tonkin brothers constructed the "Last Raft" - one last raft to commemorate their fathers career rafting lumber down the river. The raft was constructed at Burnside, above McGees Mills, and was planned to travel 200 miles to Harrisburg. In Harrisburg, the raft would be purchased by J.D. Borgar, a lumber dealer.
"Thousands would have the opportunity to view this log raft, the first to travel the west branch since 1912, when commercial log rafting came to an end. It was said, too, that Mr Tonkin's effort was also to celebrate the centennial of his grandfathers first voyage down the river on a log raft." - Theiss, The Last Raft
The raft was constructed exactly as rafts had been made for generations, by old time raftsmen, who "necessarily, were men of advanced years".
A map of the planned 200 mile journey from McGees Mills to Harrisburg
Quite a few changes had occurred to the river in the 25 years since commercial rafting had ended. Most of these hazards, no riverman had ever faced. They included: A new dam at Lock Haven, The Chute at the Williamsport Dam changed by the flood of 1936, the dam at Sunbury torn out by the great ice jam of 1904 [making the chute there useless]. "To be sure, a very few raftsmen had been over that broken dam [at Sunbury] but where the channel was deepest was something to guess about"
With all of those hazards, no one suspected that the real hazard would be a railroad bridge, just one of several such bridges the raft would pass under, in Muncy.
Assembling the Raft
In the words of Dudley Tonkin, "The work of making and running a raft had to be done for the most part by raftmen, bur over the period of twenty six years [since the last excursion raft, made in 1912] the raft rope of hope had come to an end in the hands of more men then we realized. The remaining timber makers were in the eighty-year group. Teamsters were gone. There were few horses, and practically no equipment."
The elderly remaining raftmen were however, enthusiastic about the idea of building one last raft. "I have never seen or heard of such a come-back of sour-score old men as witnessed in this undertaking" said Tonkin. "They must never be forgotten."
The matter of a real timber sled was solved when Bill Crossman of Indiana County turned up with one of genuine vintage.
The raft was made authentic in every respect. It was built in three sections, or platforms, the first two, or aft and middle sections, were thirty six feet long. The front platform was 40 feet in length. The total length of the raft was 112 feet.
"This was one undertaking that was not lacking in manpower. Young and old flocked to the river to help build the Last Raft. The younger furnished the muscle-might, while the older furnished the know-how. Under the wise supervision of Harry and Bud, the older men were given certain things to do. For example, Ed and Edwin Sunderlin, twin brothers well past four-score in age, took over the responsibility of making, framing, and finishing the two oars. These oars were made on the river bank and were over 50 feet long each. When hung, they were in almost perfect balance." - D. Tonkin
"While the raft was being made ready, young and willing hands built the shanty on the river bank, to be moved and put on the raft later. As they were working without a mental blueprint of an old-time raft shanty, some parts of the finished job required changes. The raft completed, we decided to move the shanty to the raft and at the same time correct the minor building mistakes. This work had scarcely started, on a beautiful March Sunday morning, when men, women, and children began to arrive to see the raft. This should have been an eye-opener to us of things to come, but I overlooked its significance. We were busy with rafting details, not public relations."- Tonkin
Although the raft was constructed in a tiny community in a sparsely inhabited region, and estimated 10,000 people came to see the raft the day before it set off.
The Last Raft was considered a "pup" raft - small in size. It contained 35,000 board feet of lumber. The logs were white pine sticks, harder to find in 1938, as the mountains had been cut bare in the lumber boom era, but twenty seven "sticks" were cut in the Kylertown region, and twenty four were cut near McGees Mills.
The raft was competed on March 12 1938.
"By March 14 1938, the task of "rafting in" had been completed together with the construction of the collapsible shanty, which according to the time honored form, was to house the cook and afford shelter on the two hundred mile journey."
"Until you have stood out on the deck of a log raft, facing the mist and fog and rain and frightful wind in the middle of a big river in March, you will never know what it is, really, to be cold." - Dr. Lewis E. Thiess
The wooden shack in the center of the raft was so large that it made it impossible for the rear oarsman to see the front oarsman. Doors were cut so the steersman could see the pilots signals.
Caption Text: "How the late Harry C. Conner, chief pilot, worked with his associated to built he ill-fated "last" raft to come out of the Clearfield section and continue on her way to journey's ed, despite tragedy, is shown at the top picture.
The lower left side shows the lamented pilot holding the hickory half-looks by which the logs were fabricated. That fabricating is shown at the lower right side of the illustration.
The middle of the halftone depicts the competed raft. The cabin was demolished at the collision at Muncy but otherwise the raft was undamaged."
The Last Raft Begins Its Journey
"The raft left Clearfield on Wednesday, March 16. at daybreak. Despite the earliness of the hour, newspaper men estimated that fully four thousand spectators lined the banks of the river to witness its departure. According to newspaper stories of the journey, the raft encountered two dams soon after it left Clearfield. It rode the first easily; but at the second it nosed under water two feet and every one on board got wet. " - Theiss
Ord Tonkin, Harry Connors, ?, Levi Connors, shortly before the raft began is journey.
" We did not get off on Sunday. There was not enough water. But a rainfall on Sunday night prepared the way. It gave us a small flood, though not enough to carry us over McGee's bar. I tied her loose for the trip at about 2 p.m., March 14, 1938, with Harry Conner at the front oar and Ed Sunderlin at the rear. We dropped down to above the covered bridge at McGee's Mills to await more water.
The Lord was with us at the start. My brother Ord living in Cherry Tree phoned me about 5 a.m. on Tuesday, March 15, "We have a dandy flood." My reply was: "Tie her loose quick as possible [the rush was an effort to get over the McGee bar]. I will meet you in Mahaffey." As the raft passed under the bridge at Mahaffey, Ord called from the raft up to me where I was standing above him on the highway bridge, "We did not touch gravel." Thus we were in Mahaffey, tied below the mouth of Chest Creek.
Before we arrived, thousands were waiting there to see the front oar blade appear. The front oar blade-symbol of romance to all true raftmen-is the first part of a raft to be seen coming around a bend in the stream. The wiser sightseers did not try for a vantage parking space in Mahaffey. They wanted to see the raft go through the Falls. Many of the rafting hazards of the river are misunderstood by the layman, but there has never been any doubt in the minds of river men that Rocky Bend and Chest Falls are the most dangerous places on the West Branch between the headwater springs and Harrisburg. Eighty-five year old Tom Fee of the Patchin family rafting dynasty untied the rope in Mahaffey, and
we were off for Rocky Bend and Chest Falls.
Although I am hesitant to disagree with Mr Dudley Tonkin, one of the organizers who was on board the raft, it does appear from the video footage that two women, not just one, were on board the raft that crossed the falls.
We cleared the rocks with twelve inches to spare. In less than forty minutes we were
safely tied up below the Falls. This stop was made to give the ladies who had abandoned the raft at Mahaffey a chance to come aboard. Miss Charlotte Cooper, who stayed with us throughout theday (thus being the only woman ever to ride a raft through Chest Falls) here greeted her returning friends." - D. Tonkin
"With Twelve Inches To Spare" - clearing the rocks at Chest Falls.
"At that time there were six members of the crew and thirty-two passengers aboard. The desire to ride on the raft was great. Passengers would change from time to time, but the passenger load continually grew, until some of the old timers thought it was dangerously overloaded. By the time disaster occurred, it certainly rode very low in the water." - Theiss, The Last Raft
"The Real Crew": John Byers, Harry Connor, Levi [Bud] Connor, Ed Sunderlin, John Cooper, Clyde Fulton, Harry Tozer
Mahaffey to Clearfield
The raft going under the McGees Mills covered bridge, early in it's journey
"McGees Mills is perhaps three miles west of Mahaffey. Down to that point, the Susquehanna is a very small stream; but at Mahaffey, Chest Creek flows into the Susquehanna, greatly enlarging that river. Even so, the Susquehanna is a rather snug fit for log rafts, except in times of very high water. Although rains had swollen the river, there was no big flood; and before the raft had gone very far, the river began to recede.
The sweeps, or oars were fifty feet long. Each blade was 16 feet in length.
From Mahaffey to Curwensville, the first considerable community downstream, it is thirteen miles as the crow flies. By river it is approximately twenty-five. Between the two points, the narrow river flows in innumerable fantastic loops between rocky banks that tower hundreds of feet high on either side. Adozen miles farther downstream is Clearfield, with more of the same sort of country in between. To get a clumsy log raft safely around these sharp bends calls for great skill, intimate knowledge of the river currents, and vast physical power on the part of the oarsmen." Theiss, Last Raft
Levi "Bud" Connor, Tom Fee, Orr Tonkin
The Fee brothers had a lumbering camp near Moore's Run in Prouty Pa.
"We had a jolly good time doing down" passenger Joseph Parks recalled. He described a "mock trial" held on the raft, where Pilot Harry Connor was "tried" for the crime of exceeding the speed limit of the river, which was 4 miles and hour. The verdict of the jury was guilt, with a recommendation to have him consigned to Davy Jones locker. The sentence was never carried out however.
"a large crowd had gathered at the front end of the raft, dipping it deep into the water. We had to break up the crowd to prevent the raft from sinking."
Raft just past Renovo. Hugh Tozer shown in top insert
Park also recounted: "Sixty years ago, [Hugh C.] Tozer's father died when his raft sunk near Clearfield. We held brief services near the spot, and Tozer tossed a bunch of flowers to the rocks were the raft went down." (Tozer survived the crash at Muncy, unharmed)
"The raft was overloaded, there was no question about it. Most of the time were standing in water. Several times it reached a depth of two feet" - Joseph Parks, on the section from Karthaus to Lock Haven Parks was on the raft as a representative of the Tribune.
After passing the "lesser hazards" at Hoyts Dam, Spencers Rocks and the Sheep pen, the raft tied up a few few minutes at Irvin Park in Curwensville [Known as PeeWees Nest to raftmen], "to pick up our more distant friends who had overtaken the raft"
As the raft traversed the river to Clearfield, a signal was given by Bill Wrigley (a raftman's son) for each factory, locomotive whistle, court house and church bell to sound. "Together, with all other known forms of merry-making let loose, it was a great welcome."
Two passengers waving from the raft, near Clearfield
On Wednesday March 16th, the raft tied loose about daybreak, in drizzling rain, at Karthaus. This run was known to rivermen as "Through The Mountains". The river breaks here, through the Allegheny range, "and offers from the river much of the finest scenery within the state.
Inside the Cooks Shanty, on the Last Raft, as it made it's journey
We had not traveled many miles before the souvenir hunter appeared on the scene. Before we had learned the necessity of posting guards at night, our cook and cookee* lost all their table
knives, forks, spoons, and light table ware. The tin cups vanished. An enterprising truck driver loaded up the white pine juggles and chips off some of the nice pine sticks. Then he drove to Lock
Haven and sold these bits at from ten to twenty-five cents each. People were proud to show their friends a chip. "- D. Tonkin
Passengers around the area of Lock Haven, included an Accordion player
"A very interesting and heretofore overlooked series of events, with far-reaching consequences, happened on this part of the run. This region, for a few miles back on each side of the river, has
many small one-room schools. Many times during the day when rounding a bend we would see a school teacher with a group of little tots at the water's edge where an old timber road comes to
the river. They had walked miles, through the rain, from their schools to see the Last Raft. What a thrill grandparents-to-be will have in telling of this sight to the young Americans of the future." -D. Tonkins
Jersey Shore
Lock Haven - Crossing The Dam
The new dam at Lock Haven was, at the beginning of the trip, considered to be the biggest obstacle of the trip. On Saturday March 19th at 8:30 am, the only square-timer raft to ever cross the new Lock Haven Dam, did so without incident.
It's estimated that two million people lined the banks of the Susquehanna to watch the last raft. Nearly everyone in the region was descended from a lumberman, and had heard the stories of their fathers and grandfathers making these trips, if they had not made them themselves.
The above photo shows the spectators at Lock Haven.
The bridge at Lock Haven
The raft picked up passengers at various stops along the way, and although they were all carefully vetted ahead of time, reports after the crash spoke of how overloaded the raft was.
"Speaking of bridges reminds me of one of the most curious effects of the widespread interest our voyage aroused. As the raft passed under bridges, there were dropped to us letters, papers, and
telegrams. Many of the letter and telegrams, which cam.- from all over the country (Seattle, for example, Portland, Oregon, and Washington, D. C.) had no other address than "R. D. Tonkin,
On the Raft." From Curwensville down, mail was dropped to us from the bridges, provided, that is, we did not tie up. At towns where we did tie up, it was delivered in the ordinary way." - D. Tonkin
Crossing the Dam At Lock Haven
At Lock Haven, the editor of the Montgomery Mirror newspaper, and his dentist friend Dr C.F. Taylor joined the raft. The Montgomery Mirror planned a special souvenir rafting edition for the following Sunday.
The raft was built in three sections, allowing it to "fold" over the dam as it crossed
Crossing the Dam at Lock Haven
Below the dam, the raft tied up to allow friends to join the vessel for the trip to Williamsport. In the words of Dudley Tonkin: "This is a very slow trip, and the shades of night were falling when
we tied up in the one-time lumber capital of the world. The evening spent here among the old-time logging and sawmill friends was very pleasant"
The Williamsport Chute
Sunday, March 20
" The experience best enjoyed by all raft riders is to ride through the chute. The only one on the river at that time lay just ahead to carry us over Williamsport Dam. It is a double chute, 56 feet wide and a large flow of water, so that we knew the lead of the water would bring the raft to it. There was no
danger, and fun for all. We tied up below the dam for a few minutes on the north side to pick up some friends from Philadelphia " - D. Tonkin
The Last Raft Entering the Williamsport Chute. Harry Connor, pilot, is first on the left, Ord Tonkin in checkered shirt on the shanty, Ed Sunderland second from last on the right.
Cars lined on the Maynard Street Bridge, as the raft approaches. Williamsport, Pa.
The last raft reached Williamsport on Saturday March 19th, and tied up for the night. Floods had so damaged the chute and altered the flow of the river that the dam was considered a major obstacle, but it was considered to be the last major obstacle of the trip.
I don't know for certain, but I think that might, possibly, be one of the old log booms, remains still visible today in the river at Williamsport, behind the raft.
Harry Connor & John Stutzman, river pilots, steered the raft through the chute at Williamsport at 8am on Sunday morning, March 20th. There were 48 persons aboard the raft, and all hands believe it would be smooth sailing from there to Harrisburg.
After the chute at Williamsport, Dudley Tonkin went on ahead of the raft, to Montgomery.
There as some new "false work" under the Montgomery river bridge, that could cause some concern. Only one spot was passable, concrete forms and weight in the concrete arches would block river traffic in all other areas. Tonkin was to stand on the bridge to signal the pilot where to pass.
Because the Montgomery Mirror planned a special souvenir rafting edition, plans had been made for the raft to tie up before the bridge at Montgomery, so Tonkin also had the chore of finding a solid tree along the bank that the raft could be "snubbed up". Tonkin was standing at Montgomery, looking upstream when the news came that the raft had "cracked up". He refused to believe it. Within a short time, top materials from the raft floated down the river, confirming the story.
Muncy - The Crash
When approaching Muncy, a new pilot, more familiar with the sandbars, took over.
"Boats of many kinds were passing up and down on each side of the raft as it approached the Reading Railroad Bridge below Muncy. It had been decided in advance that the raft should take a certain span, and she was headed for that opening. The raft held her course steady. Then someone coming up-stream in a power boat cried, "There's a railroad car where you are going." We had known it all along. It was the remains of an old car many feet under water. There was no danger. But someone on the raft
cried, "Take the other span."
Photo from the raft, just before it smacked into the pier shown here.
The man at the rear oar, the steersman, who was hard of hearing and who, because of the press of people on the raft could not see the pilot" at the front oar, thought "Take the other span was an order from the pilot, and gave a hard pull to the right. This threw the front end of the raft to the left. The water is swift at this point. Time was short. The pilot had no chance either to find out what had gone wrong or to correct the error. The raft hit the bridge pier three to four feet deep-that is to say, to about the third stick of timber.
This log book and other items and artifacts from the LAST RAFT can be seen at the Muncy Historical Society in Muncy, PA.
The rear of the raft having been thrown to the right while the left corner hit the pier, the raft, caught in the swift current, was hurled sideways against the next pier to the right. In rafting terms it "saddle-bagged," with slightly more than half of the raft extending past the pier and into the next span. The right side (tupper) and both ends sank
Holding in that position for a moment, it righted itself, and then, with the heavy water pressure on the longer part. which extended into this span of the bridge, it swung round and passed rear end foremost through the opening.
Photo from the Philadelphia Inquirer
When it hit, there were forty-eight people on the raft. Within two minutes forty-seven were struggling for their lives in the water. Forty were saved by swimming and the good rescue workof the many boatmen. Seven, including Harry Conner, were swallowed bv the ice-cold water. One man remained standing, with dry feet, on the raft, near where the side struck the pier. The raft did not break or tear up. Swimmers and boatmen boarded it, righted the front oar, which had been knocked off, and started pulling for the left shore." - D. Tonkin
"But perhaps the greatest hazard of all was the Reading Railway bridge at Muncy. Originally, this bridge had eight piers. In 1919. the railroad added eight more piers. This narrowed the distance between piers to half the original width. Also, this change was confusing. because raftmen were accustomed to steer between certain piers of given river bridge as between the second and third piers or between
the fifth and sixth piers. These particular channels had been selected because the depth of the water and the set of the current made them the safest passageways. With sixteen piers instead of eight, confusion could arise concerning the best course." Theiss, Last Raft
R.D. Tonkin, part owner and one of the pilots of the raft, was not on board when it crashed in Muncy. He was on ahead at Montgomery, preparing for the rafts stop there. He was quoted in local papers on Monday the 21st: "My crew misinterpreted signals. It was an accident and most unfortunate as we thought we had negotiated the most dangerous part of the river."
"No matter what was the cause, the fact is that the raft hit the fifth pier head on. The crash shattered the wooden shanty and may even have killed the newsreel man who was backed against it. Immediately the river swept the stern of the raft to the right. In the days before the new piers were added, the raft would
merely have swung end to end and swept clear through the span. But the distance between piers was now less than the 112 foot length of the raft. The rear end of the craft struck the sixth pier with a resounding crash. Then came the tragedy. The raft rose on its side, and all but one of the forty-eight persons aboard it were shot into the surging, icy waters. In an instant the river was thickly dotted with persons struggling for life." - Theiss, The Last Raft
Harris M. Hoover was aboard the Last Raft when it crashed. He had rafted from Northumberland to Marietta 6 times as a boy, making the 1938 journey his 7th trip. "I made my 7th start on a raft Friday at Lock Haven, and I am one of those who live today to tell the tale."
When the crash occurred, it knocked Hoover to his knees. He got up instantly, only to see a 4x4 squared timber used as a gangplank hurtling toward him. As he jumped to avoid the "flying scantling" the side of the raft went under and he was washed off in the current.
Hoover recalled that his heavy clothes greatly hindered him, and he was fortunate to be able to grab the scantling and float with it. He saw a man by the name of Stevens nearby and attempted to steer the timber in his direction, but the current was too strong, he was swept away downstream. He drifted nearly a mile before being rescued by a boat. The boat took him to the nearby home of Theiss, where he warmed up by the fire and drank "about 10 cups of coffee", until the state highway patrol took him to Muncy, where he was given a room at the Stover hotel.
Hoover said: "Connor was a real old-time raftman and despite his age, new his business. He was 82 years old, the oldest member of the crew. He was handling the front oar when the raft crashed."
Leo A. Luttringer, of the State Game Commission, was one of the camera men for the trip. He was rescued, but the two men standing beside him were drowned. Luttringer was taken to the Hotel Stover in Muncy, and then on to the State Game Farm at Loyalsock. "I had been taking pictures all along the way" Luttringer said. "And had taken a series going through the chute at Williamsport. Fortunately, I gave my little 16mm camera to a fellow on shore to take some pictures of the raft going through the chute, while I took close ups on the raft. We had scraped a bridge about a mile above Muncy railroad bridge, but it wasn't anything serious. As the raft neared the Muncy bridge, someone in the front hollered 'We're going to hit', and I ran to the back of the raft and braced myself. I don't think anyone was knocked off by the first crash, but the raft then swung crosswise in the current and struck a second time. This time the raft nearly turned over and we were tossed into the water.
Luttringer was thrown among a pile of firewood and sticks, "none long enough to support a man", but he put one under each arm and that was enough to support him while he kicked. "The water was so cold I could feel my legs becoming paralyzed... ordinarily I'm a fair swimmer, but it was all I could do to swim 20 or 30 feet in that swift current, dressed as I was in heavy clothes." Luttringer floated along with Ed Sunderland (age 82) and R.H. Dunlap. The three men floated approximately half a mile before being picked up by a boat. "When we got ashore, none of us could stand up. Our legs were absolutely paralyzed by the cold. That was the first I began thinking as to what happened to some of the others. I had been talking to Dr. Charles F. Taylor, a dentist of Montgomery, about a sportsman's meeting they planned ot hold Thursday night, just a moment before the crash. I didn't learn until this morning that he was among the missing. He was a grand fellow. And Harry Connor, the 82 year old front oarsman was just the finest fellow in all the world. We all loved him. He had piloted us all the way down to Muncy and he certainly knew the river like a book."
All of the motion pictures Luttringer took before the raft arrived a Lock Haven were saved.
List Of Those Who Survived The Last Raft Crash
Three of the principal organizers were not on board at Muncy. Levi (Bud) Connors had gotten off at Williamsport to have a carbuncle tended at the hospital there. R.D. Tonkin had gone ahead to Montgomery to make arrangements for the rafts passing there, and J.D. Bogar, who had just returned from Florida, had planned to join the cruise later.
Rescue, & Recovery
"Fortunately, hundreds of persons had gathered on the railway bridge to watch the raft pass beneath them and a considerable number of Muncy boat owners were afloat in their boats. Among them were Druggist J. C. Harter, Dr. Eugene Bertin, Messrs. John C. Wertman, Webb Broscious, W. F. Dewald. and numerous others whose names were not recorded.
Likewise fortunate was the fact that the shattered pieces of the shanty littered the water. Many of the unfortunates, bobbing to the surface, were able to grasp some of these pieces of wood.The men in the boats strove frantically to save lives. Grasping the floating victims by the wrists, they rowed desperately for shore, where swarming spectators assisted the victims up the bank. Then the boatmen dashed back to bring ashore those who were supported by pieces of wood. The number of those rescued was incredible. Out of forty-seven persons shot into the rushing water, all but seven were saved. It was an amazing accomplishment. " - Theiss, The Last Raft
"An heroic rescue was performed by Paul Fenstemaker, a 14 year old boy who lives near where the raft was brought to shore. Paul swam out into the river and brought in one man."
"A number of others were engaged in the rescue work, a dozen names could be listed here of men who risked their lives in boats, pulling the victims from the water, most of who modestly shun publicity. There were dozens, scores, of Muncy men who for a week, or two weeks, or even three weeks left their work, and without pay worked long and hard, searching for the bodies of those who lost their lives in the disaster." - The Philadelphia Inquirer
Twenty police cars patrolled as closely to the river banks as possible looking for "bodies that might come to the surface". Private planes, a 24 foot navy launch, and a 22 foot coast guard boat were brought in. Blasting experts exploded dynamite below the bridge, at close intervals. Men in power boats dragged the stream. Firemen from neighboring downs send powerful search lights to illuminate the water so the search could go on day and night.
The Muncy Red Cross set up a canteen at a nearby farmhouse, to feed the workers. Thousands of onlookers swarmed the town, until the police finally had to bar all but local inhabitants and those directly connected with the search efforts.
"Witnesses who were on the raft itself said that Profitt went down practically grinding away at his camera. When the shanty collapsed, he was standing close to it, photographing things forward.
Some timbers hit him on the head and he may have been knocked unconscious or even killed. He was swept overboard in a twinkling. His camera was later dragged up from the river bottom; the films were immediately washed and developed and were found to be unharmed. They were later shown in movie
houses. "
The Last Raft Footage, A Silent Movie Shown In Local Theaters After The Crash
Dudly Tonkin wrote, "Souvenir hunters cleared us out of everything at the time of the accident. Several thousand feet of sixteen millimeter movie films, already exposed (four cameras had been at work as we came along) were saved from the wreck and brought ashore. But the souvenir hunters got after them, opened the containers, exposed every film to light, and destroyed the greatest set of raft pictures ever taken. ". Had it not been for those "souvenir hunters", much more footage would be available today.
"Perhaps the most tragic case was that of Dr. Taylor. Five miles more would have brought him to Montgomery. He was a well-beloved dentist and the townsfolk had elected him burgess of the town. They were prepared to give him and the folks aboard the raft a royal welcome when the craft reached
Montgomery. They received the news of the tragedy with shocked incredulity."
Three sea scouts aboard the Last Raft received, in 1939, certificates of heroism from the National Scout Commissioner Daniel Carter Beard. They were: Carl H. Hall Jr, John Franklin Miller, and Oliver Heimrich, all of Williamsport. "The three boys aided in the rescue of 45 persons who escaped from the ill fated raft."
After the accident a telegram came from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina: Keep oars going. A Tonkin never quits." Following the coroner's inquest, we tied loose with heavy hearts and ran to Watsontown. Here we met hospitality unsurpassed.
The Inquest
An inquest was held at the Hotel Stover in Muncy
"The Inquest was held specifically into the death of W.C. Van Scoyoc, of Philadelphia, who boarded the raft as a gues. His body was recovered. Six others are still missing"
- The Gettysburg Times, March 23 1938.
Testimony was taken on the second floor of the Hotel Stover. "Lumbermen in quaint garb plopped across the lobby flood in uncomfortable rubber boots, and their brightly colored shirts lend a carnival atmosphere to the occasion ... Thirty five persons, a dozen of them newspapermen, were jammed sardine-like in the blistering hot second flood room of the hotel where testimony was taken." - The Danville Morning News
Star witness of the protracted session was Edwin Sutherlin, age 79, from McGees Mills. He was described as "clad in picturesque lumberman's garb, gray mustaches bristling", as he stood before the jury. Sutherlin operated the stern oar. He laid the blame on "too many pilots" and said that each pilot was "picking a span of their own".
Col. John Bain, of Northumberland Pa, was the keeper of the rafts log. He sustained three fractured ribs in the crash. In his testimony, he stated that he had absolute confidence in the crew, but he did not know which span they were shooting for.
Miss Rive, of Eldred, was the only woman to testify. She was a cousin of R.D. Tonkin, sponsor of the last raft. Miss Rice testified that a stove fell on her head.
Carl Hall Jr of Williamsport, a sea scout responsible for carrying the raft auger, testified that 6 feet of water swept over the bow, washing crew and passengers overboard.
R.H. Dunlap of Cherry Tree blamed the treacherous cross current for the mishap.
Clyde Fulton, the cook, "didn't know nuthin'. He testified that he was in his quarters when the raft struck the pier.
Dr Lewis Theiss, professor of Journalism at Bucknell University, testified that there was no evidence that any of the men brought to his home after the crash had been drinking.
Ord Tonkin said that the raft missed the channel between the piers by only 3 1/2- 4 feet.
The coroners jury was composed of: J. Harvey Dimm, D.G. Reed, Frank Rodgers, William Quinn, William Venrick, and Frank Bass, all of Muncy.
The jury deliberated for 20 minutes before ruling that the accident was due to the raft hitting the pier, and no blame was assigned.
"All forms of water transportation carry an element of risk, but the history of rafting on the Susquehanna shows it to have been a serious, methodical business with a good tradition. It was carried
on by steady, reliable men. When the Last Raft first tied loose, its crew were imbued with the thoughtful consideration for life and property which characterized the best traditions of the industry in the past. The river hazards, known of old by the experienced men who were in charge, were prepared for, recognized when they appeared, and safely passed. New hazards-all but one -were carefully examined beforehand and the necessary steps taken to meet them. The one exception was the excitement of thousands of people who lined the river banks, pressed into the water (preventing the tying up in accustomed places), and thronged on to the raft. The people of the eastern states had become raft-minded -without, however, appreciating the serious nature of the business." - D. Tonkin
The Raft After The Crash
The Account Of Col. John Blain, Twenty Years Later
Although the Inquest, Thiess, an Tonkin all placed no specific blame, a Northumberland historian aboard the raft blames one specific passenger.
On the 20th anniversary of the crash, John M. Blain wrote his memoir of the crash, and he laid the blame squarely on one, unnamed, "bossy" passenger. According to Bain's account, the crash was caused by a passenger who boarded at Williamsport, intending to ride to Northumberland.
Following , the " accident there were rumors of all kinds, some of which have persisted down to this day, as to its cause. Most of them have , referred . to inexperienced pilots; carelessness, etc., The. raft had accommodated many people along its route, taking them on board for a day's run. Hundreds of former river men, their children and their grandchildren de siring this last probable experience of an important period in their lives. All persons coming on board were carefully before being accepted.
At Lock Haven a man applied to the writer for permission to board the raft at Williamsport and go with it to Northumberland. He explained that he had been born and reared along the river. He was accepted and boarded the raft at Williamsport. He was scarcely aboard until he began to argue that they should let him run the raft, that he- knew the River better than the pilots did.
The writer twice admonished him to desist or the raft would be pulled to the bank and he would be put ashore. As the raft approached the railroad bridge at Muncy the writer standing with two pilots, heard one of them say: "The water looks best under the fifth span" The other pilot agreed. The writer then said "You mean the span to the right of the pier with the stake on it?" They agreed. The writer said "I will go aft and tell Ord" (Tonkin) who was in charge of the rear (the writer temporarily representing the chief promoter, Dudly.Tonkin, who had gone down River to select a place to tie up, which had not previously been planned for.)
After reporting to Ord, he In turn repeated almost verbatim what the writer had said to the forward pilots, and turning to the rear oarsman "Uncle" E Sunderland, a 79-year old veteran of the River, who had made the long sweeps for the raft and adjacent to whose home the raft was built, 'Ship your oar, Uncle Ed, we are going to run the fifth span, We are in the current for it and you won't have to dip your oar again." That arrangement was In accordance with the long time experience of these former rivermen
The writer strolled forward the length of the raft and as he reached and took up a position to the rear of the forward pilots, the person above referred to turned and called to the rear "Throw her over, we are going to run the fourth span". Without any hesitation, ' never thinking of anything but an official order, accustomed to instantaneous action, the four men crew dipped the oar so that the nose of the raft caught some of the current for the fourth span. Ord Tonkin called to the writer, "My God, Colonel, we will hit that pier".
The water leaped over the forward oard and threw his weight with the other four oarsmen but too late to avoid impact. We pulled the forward part of the raft "almost" past the pier, the raft dipped forward, washing many of us off, bounced back, turned around and went through the fifth span backward and without anyone steering. That intervention by an unauthorized outsider resulted in the death of seven men, two of them close personal friends of the writer."
The raft had gotten loose from the bridge piers, and was tied up downriver. The shack was gone, and one of the oars needed to be replaced.
By the time the jury returned their verdict, at 5:25 pm, "the clumsy raft had drifted across the county line beyond the jurisdiction of the Lycoming County authorities."
Coroner Brandon was widely reported to be, at first, "visibly nettled at the mutiny on the Susquehanna", but quickly calmed down and said that everything had been settled "amicably".
"Meanwhile the raft is moored a short distance below Muncy, it's owners still debating whether or not to continue the trip. Twelve men who survived the crash volunteered to take it on to Harrisburg, following the old lumbering tradition that a lumberman never loses his logs.
Dr Thomas C. Brandon subpoenaed all survivors to attend an inquest that afternoon, further ordering that the raft be kept in place until after the inquest. at the Hotel Stover.
"With a hearty lumberman's cry of defiance for Lycoming County authority, a skeleton crew of seven yesterday afternoon re-launched the last raft an hour and a half before a coroners jury began inquiring into the disaster that claimed the lives of seven at Muncy." - The Danville Morning News
Assistant D.A. Samuel H. Hume and County Detective Clarence Whipple stood "helplessly on shore" as the craft swirled into the muddy Susquehanna at 2pm - in disregard to the explicit orders of the County Coroner, who ordered the raft to remain moored a mile below Muncy, pending the outcome of the inquest.
"The See-'er-thru crew left Muncy at break of day, determined to carry out the tradition that raftsmen never leave their logs until journeys end, come what will - even death" - The Selinsgrove Times, March 24 1938
Watsontown to Winfield
Tonkin, in his memoir of the trip, mentions a "great reception" at Watstontown, where it was tied up for the night.
The raft docked at Watsontown at dusk, and resumed it's journey at 6am the next day.
"Much of the delay between Lewisburg and Northumberland was due to stagnant waters, it requiring fully 25 minutes to traverse a distance of about 200 feet out from the 'seven kitchens' below Winfield." - The Sunbury Daily Item, March 23 1938
Others who boarded the raft from Northumberland included:
Mrs Benj Hummel, Richard Hummel, Clarence Culp, Chief Burgess T.F. Freeburn. They left the raft before it reached the Bainbridge street bridge.
Sunbury
The raft passed Fort Augusta at 11:40 am on March 23rd, and moored to the Sunbury bank for mid-day welcome. They weighed anchor in the early afternoon and took their course out to the west shore to hold to the channel as they passed under two bridge and over the remnants of the old dam between Sunbury and Shamokin Dam.
When the raft reached Sunbury, Michael Surgent, the chief of police in that city was rowed out to present Levi Connor, the new raft pilot, with a memorial wreath that had been donated by City Commissioner Grover B. Reichley.
Cousins Harry & Levi [Bud] Connor, before the raft began it's journey. Harry died in the crash at Muncy, Levi took over as pilot to continue the trip.
When some one asked Levi Connor why he was willing to go on with the trip after Harry Conner was drowned, he said simply: "I want to finish this trip just for old times' sake. That's the way Harry would want it."
The Raft, Passing Under the Bainbridge Toll Bridge At Sunbury
The dam at Sunbury torn out by the great ice jam of 1904, making the chute there useless.
"To be sure, a very few raftmen had been over that broken dam [at Sunbury] but where the channel was deepest was something to guess about"
"Old rivermen had advised that the raft follow through the big break in the dam, and several boats surrounding the craft assisted in pulling it into midstream. It would have been impossible to traverse the old log chuste on the west side of the river. Fortunately, the high stage of the river covered the bad spots in the dam."
Tollkeepers at the Baingbridge street bridge had difficulty in keeping traffic moving, and people lined the bridge to see the raft pass. Youths climbed Blue Hill, and many ventured out onto the Reading Railroad Bridge.
As the raft passed under the West Branch Bridge at Sunbury, 19 persons were aboard. Only 14 would make the trip on downstream.
Selinsgrove
By the time the raft reached Burns island, the river was choppy. By the time is reached Cherry Island, whitecaps were breaking on all sides and the rafts speed was greatly reduced. When they reached Nigger Island, the wind was so strong that the raft was pressed to the west shore. After taking an hour to reach the Black Horse Hotel, "that stood at the end of Pine Street" where the rivermen had frequently stopped long ago, it was obvious that the journey could not be completed that evening. The raft was snubbed down by Ben Benners, a little more than a block from the former Black Horse hotel.
"We crossed the remains of Shamokin Dam and ran on to Selinsgrove. Here
J. D. Bogar, Jr., of Harrisburg came on the raft, looked it over, and bought it in real old-fashioned style-no papers, just the buyer's word. Leaving here, running McKee's Half Falls, and drifting into some new sand and coal bars, we at last tied up in Greene's Dam near Clark's Ferry Bridge. " - Tonkin
Stuck At Herrold Island
Near the village of Chapman, the raft became stuck on Herrold Island. A river coal dredge owned by George Keller towed it back to open water.
Going under the Clarks Ferry Bridge
Liverpool
"Ringing church bells sounded the passage of the last raft at Liverpool at 11:30am, where the river bank was filled with school children and hundreds of persons fom rht esurrounding countryside."
The raft stopped at the old raft wharf at Liverpool for a belated lunch. Then, fighting headwinds, it became stuck on a sandbar at the northern edge of Liverpool, shortly before noon. It took two hours for the rivermen to work the raft loose.
"Tolling steadily for an hour and a half, the crew, assisted by more than a score of sightseers in motor and rowboats managed to dislodge the craft from its mooring place... plans now call for the raft to change to the east shore of the river at Girtys Notch. Tonight's tie up will be about one mile north of Clarks ferry, so that the raftsmen can spend the night at Amity hall, formerly a famous lodging place for river boatmen" - The Selinsgrove Times, March 24 1938
On the final stretch of the journey, the raft was piloted by John Myers of Lock Haven, "a member of a family noted for its activities in log rafting"
Fort Hunter - Heckton Lumbering Chute, Final Stop
"Pilot John Myers of Lock Haven nosed his way, following the proper raft course, among the rocks near the left shore, to reach Fort Hunter about noon. March 25, i938. Here I [Tonkin] tied up the Last Raft in the mouth of Fishing Creek, and ended an epoch in history." - D. Tonkin
The rapids at Dauphin were run without trouble of any kind. "These were considered quite hazardous.. because of the comparatively low water, but the pilots, John Meyers and Edwin Winner of Lock Haven, switched the raft past the large rocks as though the boat was a tiny canoe."
Dauphin schools were dismissed so that students could watch the raft, and traffic on the river road was blocked by motorists.
The raft docked at the old lumbering chute at Hecton at 10:35 am on March 25th.
Only three of the original crew were on board: John Fulton, cook; Ed Sutherlin age 79, and Levi Conner. All three men had been rescued from the river when the raft collided with the Muncy bridge on Sunday.
Plans for a celebration at Harrisburg had been cancelled, and J.D. Bogar, head of he lumber company who would cut up the timbers, said he hoped the raft could be "brought in quietly"
A final "lumber auction" had been scheduled for the end of the trip, but after the tragedy at Muncy, no ceremony was held at the end of the rafts journey.
Dismantling The Raft
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The body of Malcom Farlane, age 56, of Montclair N.J., was recovered 8 days after the crash (march 28), near the Muncy dam.
The bodies of Harry Connor, 74, of Burnside, chief pilot of the raft at the time of the crash, and Harry G. Berringer, 40, of Tyrone, were recovered from the river on April 17th.
Eugene Golder, contastble of Montgomery, discovered Connors body about 6 miles below the scene of the crash. Franklin Hain and Elmer Buck found Berringers body on a sapling.
That left 3 still missing:
W.C. Profitt of Chester (Newsreal cameraman)
Dr Charles Taylor (Burgess of Montgomery)
W.W. Holley of Bradford Pa
The body of W.W. Holley, age 82, was recovered March 18th, and the body of Dr Charles F. Taylor on April 20th. These were "the last of the missing", so Profitt must have been found sometime prior.
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On July 21, five Williamsport men were each awarded $20 each for finding the camera and films of W.C. Profitt. Profitt had been killed in the crash, and his camera had been lost in the river. The camera was recvovered shortly after the crash. It snagged on Bbuoy chaines that had been set up by the Navy to mark the site. But the reels were not recovered until much later.
The last known picture of the late Dr Charles F. Taylor, Dentist and Chief Burgess of Montgomery
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An eighty year-old Bradford man, W. W. Holly, is listed among those missing in the wreck of a lumber raft smashed against a bridge in the Susquehanna River. The body of one man, W. C. VanScoyce of Philadelphia, was recovered, and search for the other six missing, including Mr. Holly, was conducted today.
Forty-eight were on the raft when it was wrecked. The others missing are Thomas Proffett, Universal Newsreel cameraman, Chester, Pa., Dr. Charles F. Taylor, dentist and Burgess of Montgomery, Pa., Harold Barringer, Tyrone, Pa.; member of the crew; Harry Connors, Burnside, Pa., chief pilot; and Malcom McFarland, Towanda, Pa.
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Rafting Boss - Bud Connor
Raft Pilot - Harry Connor (cousin of Bud)
Principal Rafting Hands: Claude Webster, Clyde Fulton, John Conner, James Westover, Clair Biss, and Andy Russell.
At fourteen years of age, Vincent Tonkin had made his first trip from Cherry Tree to Marietta as a raft hand, working "under the oar." Pioneer boys developed very early, and at eighteen (in 1848) he piloted his first raft through the hazards of the 250 river-mile trip. His sons Dudly and Ord were responsible for the 1938 Last Raft trip, in memory of their father
Pilots were the aristocrats of the lumber woods, where a strict caste system was observed. Raftmen formed the highest caste, contemptuous of the loggers who provided the "sticks" for "log rafts" of which the pilots were captains. Below the raftmen were the loggers, who themselves were divided into two castes: loggers of white pine (the noblest of Pennsylvania trees), and loggers of hemlock, the bark of which was used for tanning. Under them came the "pulp cutters"-Swedes, Hungarians, and other "outsiders." On the last rung of all were the "chemical timber cutters"-cutters of wood used in the production of wood alcohol, charcoal, and other derivatives. The feeling between castes was often bitter. During the wars waged between raftmen and loggers, the raftmen have been known to drive nails
At Sunbury Pa. the raft almost had the same fate. Going under the bridge the right side was hard against the bridge pier, not anywhere near being centered between the two piers.
At Sunbury Pa. the raft almost had the same fate. Going under the bridge the right side was hard against the bridge pier, not anywhere near being centered between the two piers.
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