In years to come, no rafts will run
Our Susquehanna River
And the cherry cry, "Land! Tie up!"
We'll hear no more forever.
Down Rocky Bend, and through Chest Falls,
On winter nights so eerie,
The phantom raftsmen will chase the ghost
Of Cherry Tree Joe McCreery.
In learning about the Lumber Boom in Williamsport Pa, one of the first things I learned was that the industry had a lot of larger than life characters. Raftsmen would risk life and limb piloting piles of sticks over the Mighty Susquehanna, only to collect their pay, and often spend too much of it in the taverns on the week long walk home. They would walk 50 or 60 miles a day, carrying instruments and singing along the way. I'm certain many ballads were made up over those years, but the one that interested me most was the Ballad Of Cherry Tree Joe - who was born in Muncy Pa.
Joe McCreery was born in 1805, in the Port Penn area of Muncy, but at the age of 13 his parents moved to Cherry Tree, a town in Indiana County, about 150 miles south west of Muncy. The West Branch of the Susquehanna River stretches to Cherry Tree, and it is said that McCreery was on the very first log raft to float down the West Branch, in 1827. That raft was run by Reeder King, a distant relative of McCreery, so of all the stories you are about to hear, that one is the most plausible.
McCreery, standing at 6 foot three with lumberman's beard, was a larger-than-life personality even during his own lifetime. He ran rafts from Cherry Tree to Anderson's Ferry (Today known as Marietta, near Harrisburg)
Like many good athletes, Joe loved to show off. He'd make a log spin, just to show how well he could handle it, or "skin a cat" on a quarter line after the raft journey had ended at Williamsport or Columbia.
One of his fellow raftsmen, McCormick, recalls that McCreerys favorite drink was Sam Thompson, and with a few under his belt, he was unbeatable, in a time when there were lots of good men on the river going around with chips on their shoulders.
When a newspaperman in 1934 wanted to pay tribute to Cherry Tree Joe, one raftsman wrote: "We old-timers are glad you are trying to do justice to the great figures of the rafting days, of whom the greatest of them all was Cherry Tree Joe McCreery. He was the build and coloring of a Viking, and his beard was as fine as Pinchots. When you saw him with canthook or rafting pole, you felt you were in the presence of Thor himself, only this man was making a new world saga."
By all accounts, Cherry Tree Joe was the biggest, toughest, handsomest, craftiest lumberman who ever lived, and the unquestioned hero of the industry.
And if you read through the lines of some of those accounts, it's possible maybe Cherry Tree Joe thought that about himself too. Now, I don't know these men, and I've only read a few of their stories from nearly 100 years ago. But I have raised a house full of strong, handsome boys, and more than once I have heard a tall tale formed to remind another that he's getting a bit too full of himself. Perhaps the legends of Cherry Tree Joe were nothing more than a raftsmans taunt. And if so, Cherry Tree took them in stride, which may be why he was so beloved. After all, the ballad of Cherry Tree Joe is based not on his accomplishments, but rather on his failure. And reportedly, Cherry Tree didn't mind, and would even sing along.
On To The Tales:
Cherry Tree Joe could tie a raft to each foot and skate down the river to Williamsport in a day - half that if the river was frozen!
While racing rafts down Clearfield Creek with his old friend Bob McKeage, Joe was in the lead, but the other raft was about to pass him. That wouldn't do at all. So what did Joe do but reach out one of his long arms to the shore and pull out the 150 foot white pine by the roots. He swung it across and set it down, straight up, in front of McKeages raft. That ended the race, but McKeage didn't mind.
In the big flood of 1845, he had run a raft right over the famed cherry tree at his home town.
He was so strong he could shoulder five bushels of buckshot, but when he tried to carry the load on a bet, he mired his kneed in a flint rock
Where Cherry Tree Joe lived in the hills on The Creek Without an End, his wife cooked on a griddle six feet square and used a side of bacon to grease it. It took a full barrel of flour every morning to make flapjacks. Because of this, the mice grew to weigh 60 pounds each, and Cherry Tree had to get himself a panther as a house cat, to deal with those mice.
He was said to have kept Moose for milk cows.
Cherry Tree Joe once met a panther crossing a log, and the panther stepped down to let him pass. (Perhaps that's the one he took home to be a house cat?)
His eyes were so sharp he could take a raft down river in pitch darkness. He never needed to carry lights of a horn because he could be heard singing or whistling for miles.
At another jam, he pulled out his knife and began whittling. Soon the whole raft was cut into little sticks and that's how toothpicks were invented. He loaded them into a flatboat and took them to Philadelphia where folks were so delighted they paid him
$5,000 more than the timber would have been.
Then there was the story of the memorable weight throwing contest at Possum Glory, where Cherry Tree Joe, after hurling a Civil war cannon "further than the memory of man remembered to the contrary", picked up a 16 foot hemlock log, swung it over his shoulder and carried it up the tavern steps.
When the 1889 flood came to Johnstown, the story goes that Cherry Tree Joe risked his life to pull a house up on the bank as it came riding down the flood waters. Doing this saved the lives of two sets of triplets. (Joe would have been 84 years old in 1889. )
According to a 1961 article in the Pittsburgh Press, many of Paul Bunyan's Tales were taken from the tales of Cherry Tree Joe.
At the age of 56, McCreery really did join the 11th Pennsylvania Volunteer Cavalry to fight in the Civil War. He was discharged the next March after losing a leg. His nickname then changed to "Contrary Joe." This injury didn't slow him down, though.
In July of 1870, (again, true story) Contrary Joe rescued two young children, ages 4 & 6, who had gotten lost on their way home in a storm. The children were 7 miles from home when they were found by McCreery.
The Ballad
At Chessy Falls, near Mahaffy, the rocky bottom often caused rafts to go around or break up. Many wanted to build a dam, but Cherry Tree Joe insisted the best thing to do was blow out the big rocks with dynamite. With Bob McKeague and E.B. Camp, Joe bought the dynamite, and then stopped at Patchin's store and talked his son Jack out of a gallon of whiskey. None of the men knew much about dynamite, and apparently the whisky didn't help. The blasting made lots of noise, but moved mighty little rock. The falls were as big of a hazard as ever, and whenever a raft wrecked there, they blamed Cherry Tree Joe.
Joe died in November 1895,at 90 years old, and is buried at Cherry Tree Cemetery.
If you walk the cemetery where he is buried, there's no doubt you will be walking among legends. Buried nearby is Reeder King, who ran the first raft down the West Branch. Near Reeders tomb is the last resting place of William Mahaffey, another early raftman of renown.Several of the Kinports family, notable characters of the river, are nearby, along with two of McCreerys cohorts, Acheson & McKeague.
The Lumberman's and Raftsmen's Association initiated an annual reunion in 1928 and program books carry the words of the ballad and a biography of Joe. His boots were hung on display at each reunion.
The Ballad Of
Cherry Tree Joe McCreery
sung to the tune of a "watered down folk song"
You Rivermen have surely heard
About the appropriation
That was made to clean our little ditch
And benefit the nation;
That we might run through Chest Falls
Nor get the least bit weary,
So they raised the stamps
And gave the job to Cherry Tree Joe McCreery.
Chorus
Looking out for number one
Spending all the money
And getting nothing done.
There's Bob McKeage and E.B. Camp,
Who held the ready Ginger,
Some men of sense said "build a dam,"
But they would not raise a finger.
We will blow the rocks sky high said they,
So Porter don't get skeery,
But let rip and she'll go through
Said Cherry Tree Joe McCreery.
Now you all know and I can show
That fate is a cruel master,
When once you're going down the hill!
He's sure to push you faster,
And that's the way, mind what I say,
And don't you see, my deary,
That everything happens now
Is blamed on Joe McCreery.
One day this Spring as I came up,
I met somebody's daughter
Wh held her apron to her eyes
To catch the salty water,
Dear girl, said I, what makes you cry
You must feel very dreary,
Why my Daddy stoved in Chest Falls
And I am hunting Joe McCreery.
The other day they had asplash
And jammed her tight as thunder,
A circumstance that caused our folks
To gaze around in wonder,
They prayed and tore, ripped and swore,
Until they all grew weary,
Sheff cut his Bill Raft into sticks,
And cursed Cherry Tree Joe McCreery.
Now Captain Dowler the other day,
He struck a raft of timber,
That was hanging up to Sliding Point,
And tore the rope asunder;
The Captain winked and scratched his head
Say this kind of dreary,
Then he jumped his oar, went on shore
And prayed for Joe McCreery.
Our Squire Riddle on the hill,
Who deals out justice even,
His head is very bald you know,
No hair twixt him and heaven,
I asked how his hair came out
And he answered sort of dreary
That it must have come out thinking
About Cherry Tree Joe McCreery.
In years to come when no rafts run
On our dear little river,
And the cheery cry of "land tie up"
Shall be heard no more, forever;
Down Rocky Bend through Chest Falls
On winter nights so dreary,
You'll see the Phantom Raftsmen chasing around
The Ghost of Cherry Tree Joe McCreery.
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More Stories & History From Muncy Pa
More stories and history from nearby towns:
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The trip from Cherry Tree to Marietta could be made in 10 days, in favorable conditions, but sometimes it took twice as long. We were paid $20 to $30 a trip. In the spring in Cherry Tree, lots of men went on the rafts, there'd be no one left in town but the women and children.
Note - Acheson was known for being "the friend of many an escaped slave". He would say "They are decent lads, and I intend to aid every mothers son of them that I can". A riverman could be a powerful ally to a slave on the run.
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