Valley Girl Views: Reminiscences of Milton by J.P. Kohler

In the 1920's, Attorney James Pollock Kohler wrote a series of letters about his early years as a boy in Milton Pa. The Miltonian published them under the heading "Reminiscences of Milton by J.P; Kohler".

This letter, published on August 31 1922 tells of the rise of baseball after the civil war, firecrackers, steam engine displays, the fair, and horse racing.

GAMES AND SPORTS

It would be hard to find on our continent a gamier little town than Milton during the decade that followed the Civil War. Down to the panic of 73, the mills were running full or overtime, the farmers were getting $2 for their wheat, every one who wanted work could get it at good wages, and the increased purchasing power of the multitude brought a prosperity which filled the people's pockets with money, and no panicky, depressing, out-of. work spirit was present to sap the vim, pep and patriotism of young or old.

The men who had been away to fight had returned to work or play and the girls were helping the soldier boys, so recently back home, to spend the stipends that Uncle Sam doled out. All felt that the immortal prayer of Daniel Webster in his reply to Hayne in the Senate: "When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in Heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments or a once glorious union" had been fully answered.

While the town was thus bubbling over with patriotism, prosperits, picnics politics and prayer meeting, baseball walked in and took possession. One beautiful summer morning, in the middle sixties, while I was sitting on the steps of our home, down the lane, I noticed several young men walking and looking over a field just across the lane, that formerly had been Sammy Patch's tobacco patch, cornfield or vegetable garden. It was a very large field, almost perfectly level and being just beyond the Pennsy tracks, it was convenient.

I think there were two Davis boys from Front street and a Norris boy among the examiners of this field, and shortly after it was thoroughly plowed, then rolled, and later set with the famous diamond. Home base was about fifty feet from the alley line and about the center line of the field. To the left was a pretty grass covered lane with large locust tres for shade; to the right was a picket fence that bounded the Hoffman property, while far beyond the outfielders was the fence on the Southeran boundary, almost hidden in young locusts, elderberry and mulberry bushes. The future celebrities came here to practice, afternoons and evenings, as soon as the grounds were ready, and many of the townspeople came to watch them.

As a frolicking kid I tried, on second base to stop a ball that came hot off the bat, but it passed through my closed hands, hit me elsewhere and I was carried in and laid up for several days. I had not suspected that base balls were so hard, or that practicing batters could give them such speed. But on these grounds the old "Hand-in-Hand" scored its famous victories, while the girls in gala dress looked on from the grassy lane and the boys and men lined the Hoffman fence, with cheer and yell. "Ducky" Rhoads, the backstop (now catcher), was the Babe Ruth, and Ed Davis, the Christy Mathewson, of the home team. Benton Nagle was short stop, Johnny Fausnaught, first base, and Jim Pollock, later on, third and the Davis boys, and others made up the Hand-in-Hand nine. There were also the Stars, Juniors, Young Americas, who practiced with the real team.

It was then that Milton began to watch the scores of the city teams and to talk of the wonderful pitcher of the Philly Athletics. And Milton played with Watsontown, with Muncy, with Danville, With Turbotville, but mostly with Lewisburg.

When the big team went to Lewisburg half the town went along. Canal boats, crowded with young and middle aged, went through the cross cut and the crowds crossed the ferry and then back to the fair grounds where the rivals met. All other demonstrations, of whatsoever nature, were put in the shade when compared with the enthusiasm of these games. Once at Lewisburg, the Hand-in-hands won a 38 to 13 game. The home-coming was like the return of a victorious army. And when "Ducky," an incomparable backstop, would wallop his home runs down over the fence, the cheering must have been heard as far off as Lewisburg. And couldn't Ed Davis pitch and catch them off the bases, as he had learned to do it at Princeton.

No inning was without its run, and some had as high as ten, and the games often lasted from two o'clock till dark. They were all interesting and exciting, but some more so than others.

But that little team that came down from Turbotville gave our boys the most worry. Of course the fun was at its highest when the bases were full, which was usually the case. Later, I went to see a real game, as the fans would call it, between the Athletics and the Brooklyn Mutuals, in Brooklyn. The score was 1 to 0. The grounds were level- smooth and velvety, the grandstand and bleachers were filled and the playing was perfect, but there was not that interest that I had anticipated. Too many "out at first," "three strikes out," etc to get the base runners on the job. The teams worked like pieces of machinery, the ball seldom touched the ground and wherever it was knocked some player seemed right under to catch, or in its way to stop it. In comparing athletic perfection with Hand-in-hand imperfection, I rather liked the latter, and though I have seen very many of the best games, I never enjoyed any so much as I did the old contests in Milton.

In Quebec, the city, is a monument of the English general, Wolfe, and the French general, Montcalm, who fought on the Plains of Abraham, in that great struggle for control of this continent before our own Revolution, which, when looked at, recalls the tremendous interests at stake in that war and the momentous results of the long fight for supremacy. Some such feeling might be excused in recalling the work of Captain John M. Rhoads, as backstop, and of Edmund Davis, as pitcher, in the contests of the old, first and only baseball team that put Milton on the map when the game was young and was played without price or gate reecipts, but for the clean, manly sport and the glory and gratification of the town, and with all comers from the surrounding territory. Milton will not erect any monument to these two one with a bat ready to strike, the other with a ball, ready to pitch, in remembrance of the outdoor life that rejoiced the hearts of young and old, but it might at least have a public dinner for them and any others of the nine that remain, before they are fully counted "out" of the game for good.

The ball grounds are now covered with houses and few can imagine that as baseball grounds, they were likewise children's playgrounds, where running raw, kite flying, shinny and other games took place, and where the circus for year was wont to pitch its tent and collect the quarters of the multitudes.

The ' Glorious 4th" was not a day to be sneezed at either. It was celebrated with proper pep, patriotism and noise. From midnight to midnight, the rockets flew skyward and crackers, big and little, rejoiced the boyish heart. If a Miltonian of today could listen to a racket like those in front of 36 Broadway (the arsenal) on July 4th in the sixties, he would think that bedlam had broke loose. There is no such thing these days. Often the celebration, by arrangement, would be held in a neighboring town and the Miltonians would go there.

I well recall a great celebration at Williamsport, which included a firemen's parade. The steam fire engines were being introduced and to Williamsport they came from Elmira Lock Haven, Sunbury and elsewhere to parade and to compete afterwards Competition was the spirit of the age. These engines were all backed up against the canal from which they pumped their water. It was an interesting sight to watch the streams of the various engines contesting for the greatest height and distance. Milton had no steam fire engine and I was thoroughly interested. I stood alongside of each engine and watched it run. They threw out, besides water, great volumes of sparks. My Sunday suit was of linen, short pants and nice side pockets in my coat. These pockets, as became a visitor from Milton, were filled with fire crackers, unpacked, loose and ready for business. Noise sounded better than music. In the midst of my great admiration for the best fire extinguisher, then throwing the largest and highest stream, and owned by one of the big saw mills, I heard crackers close to my side, many of them as if a whole pack was going off at once. Soon I smelled the smoke of burning linen and then I found that I, myself, was also on fire. I wanted for no engine to put me out, out with one quick jump into the can al I managed to save the other half of my coat and to escape unsinged. As my parents had met, married and lived for years in Williamsport, no serious reprisals were exacted for the misfortune that befell me there.

As summer passed into fall the Fair became the topic of conversation and subject of expectation. Fairs were held for many years on the Farley farm below town where the Reading crosses Front street. Later up at Chamberlin's with an entrance on Church Lane. But I do not remember that a race track was at the Chamberlin place. But at Farley's racing was a big part of the program. We took pigs and pumpkins and later pottery and poultry to the several exhibitions. But the trotting brought out the farmers and townspeople. There was one horse, Prince John, a fine young stallion, that, with a record of 2:40 drew the crowds. He was generally led down Broadway and through Fronts street to be looked at, for he had great speed.

It was several years after that our sleds were decorated with the picture of a trotter called "Dexter, Time, 2:18." And still later when at Williamsport an exhibition trot by Goldsmith Maid drew a crowd. When they got down or up, around 2:10, Henry Ward Beecher in a sermon on progress predicted the coming of the two-minute horse. We thought then that Mr. Beecher was prophesying the impossible, but lo and behold! he has come at last, and from the little old West Branch.

There were real sportsmen around Milton and trotting horses were not confined to the annual fairs. Below town, Cyrus Brown, "Bill" Malady and others held the reins, and the fences were comfortably filled to watch them. Two three minute horses if evenly matched will give as much thrill as two two minute horse, and whether it it J. I. C. or Single G., the lovers of horse flesh will travel far to see a real match.

When sitting in the Grand Circuit benches last summer at Belmont Park, (Philadelphia) watching the perfect performance of Single G, and later the little mare, Juno, that trotted the fastest quarter on record, my mind went back to St. Julian, Jay Eye See, Cresceus, The Abbott, and other great performers, and to Prince John, the pride of the Milton Fair in the sixties of the last century. At the State Fair at Williamsport, about this time, some faster horses were brought into the contests.

They tell of the most interesting dog races in Mexico that also draw. A stuffed rabbit is placed on an arm that by electricity runs at great speed for a distance. Greyhounds and other hunters are held in cages until they all get a look at the rabbit and are red hot for the chase. When all seem ready, up goes the gate, out go the dogs and always ahead of them goes the imitation rabbit, until it disappears just ahead of the dogs at the end of the race. Yet these dogs are bet on and have their backers, just as fast race horses have. While I was looking at the white letter "G" on 'Single G's forehead from which he is named, the cameras were snapping him, and he seemed to know that he had just won three straight heats from three fast competitors and wouldn't mind telling how proud he felt over it; though he bore his honors with such becoming modesty that he seemed like some dog standing half asleep.

We have had in the Brooklyn courts a lawsuit over Playfellow, the brother of Man o' War, who was sold for $100,000 without warranty. He was charged with being a windsucker and the purchaser won back his hundred thousand from the seller. This horse will be entered in the Saratoga races in August as his trainer says he is perfectly sound, and if he wins any of the races the man who won the law suit and his money back will feel that he is the victim of some joke, for then the horse will be worth twice the figure he was sold for.

JAMES P. KOHLER.

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