A set jaw, a dog, and a belt full of ammo - Long Run's Harvey Ahner lost his father in a railroad accident the same year he was born in 1908. This picture was taken around 1924. |
Dying Breeds:
John Bitterling’s mountain ash tree was in full blown
the first spring after the city of Allentown planted it.
Two months later Bitterling encountered his untimely death
at his favorite home hotel, Dotter’s Inn, just east of White Haven.
And two months after Bitterling died, his tree died
too…
From his late winter trout scouting hikes through
Leslie Run, Hickory Run and Mud Run that lasted days at a time, to catching
live bears to sell, to his marksmen’s precision, stories of John Bitterling
approached tall tale status.
His 1917 death may have signaled the end of his kind.
Huckleberry pickers are another extinct breed.
Hunting in Carbon County Posts:
Post #3: Laws, Tall Tales, & Accidents (Not yet Published)
Post #4: Hotel Jonas and other watering holes (Not yet Published)
The Fire and the Fury - Albrightsville and the Great Fire of Hickory Run
The Fire and the Fury 2 - Albrightsville - the Wilkinson-Henning Affair
Life on the Mountain: The Distilleries of the Pine Swamp
Ode to Spring: Moonshine and Horseradish
Post #4: Hotel Jonas and other watering holes (Not yet Published)
The Fire and the Fury - Albrightsville and the Great Fire of Hickory Run
The Fire and the Fury 2 - Albrightsville - the Wilkinson-Henning Affair
Life on the Mountain: The Distilleries of the Pine Swamp
Ode to Spring: Moonshine and Horseradish
Each year, about early July, Great Uncle Henry
(1902-1985) would appear in Lehighton, to stay at his sister, my grandmother.
Even though he drove his car from Allentown to
Lehighton, he would always hitchhike and walk back to the little hamlet where
he was born, to pick huckleberries.
When I was small, men and women still picked
berries. They’d scour Hacklebernie, the
Broad Mountain, Tank Hollow, the Pine Swamp, and the “Halfway Fields” of Spring
Mountain.
Keen Ahner (1932-2009) of Franklin Township was the
last berry picker of that generation I knew.
He’d wait until late summer to pick his favorite for pies: dogberries.
Every few years, when the pickers found the berries
too small in size or number, they instinctually set their favorite picking
spots ablaze in order to take away the shade and encourage growth of the
underbrush.
It wasn’t just a hobby or a way to escape the summer
heat of the city. Men like Bitterling,
Uncle Henry and Uncle Keen were not only attached to the land, they belonged to
it.
From the late 1700s up until now, man’s connection and
disconnection from the land has impacted many species who shared the woods
around us.
Bears, Wildcats, & Catamounts:
Through a series of articles written by Altoona-area writer Henry W. Shoemaker around 1915 known as "Stories of Pennsylvania Animals" we in the 21st Century can take a peek back at the state of the forest from one hundred years ago.
Of bear, Shoemaker stated there once was a “hog” bear
with a short nose and long ears and a long “glossy coat.” Compare this to the “dog” bear, a long nose,
short ears, a “meagre coat and tasteless flesh.”
A letter from Dr. Berlin, 1/4 part owner of a tract of land near Snyder Hotel. Snyder owned the other 3/4 part. |
In the late 1800s, there was for a time a “freak” bear
that had a white face. Shoemaker also
said there were once brown bears here that were related to the Grizzlies. Certainly the occasional “cinnamon” bear today
could be descended from those.
Fall 1897 - Bear fights "desperate battle with the dogs" of Thomas Lewis in Penn Forest's Pine Swamp. (Carbon game news reached an Altoona-area newspaper.) |
(See the paragraph on “last kills” in Post #1 ofHunting in Carbon County. Also, see end notes for more on Shoemaker’s animal stories.)
Big cats were still being reported as “numerous” in
the state in an April 1895 Harrisburg Telegraph news story. The article provided a county by county
rundown, citing each county’s own special “peculiarity” with the wild cat.
In Lackawanna they kill the pheasants, in Monroe, they
kill sheep and young lambs.
In Carbon, the “wild cat can be found at any time in
the Pine Swamp after he has enjoyed his meal of poultry and game.”
After the last panther had gone extinct from the state
in the late 1800s, Pennsylvania was known to be home to two varieties of what
we call “bobcats” today.
The “wildcat” (Lynx Rufus) is the cat that survives in
numbers today, but in the early 1900s, there was also the “catamount” (Lynx
Canadensis).
The story ended with the tale of a Dr. Warren from the
southwestern corner of the state claiming a “catamount attacked me one night as
I walked home from courting a girl.”
Dr. Warren went on to claim that the cat “treed me on a fence and I had to stay there until daybreak.”
Dr. Warren went on to claim that the cat “treed me on a fence and I had to stay there until daybreak.”
The author, poking some fun, wondered what it would be
like if all the young, love-struck men of Harrisburg suddenly found themselves “treed
on posts and awnings until dawn, soiling their Sunday clothes.”
The whitetail was extremely rare at that time, and the number of cats were partly to blame. The bigger culprit was the loss of habitat (see Post #1-Scarcity to Resurgence).
It’s hard to imagine the deer-rich, agrarian Mahoning
Valley being devoid of white-tail.
People of the low, farmland regions of Carbon had to seek out the big
woods of the Pine Swamp for their hunting adventures.
You can take the man out of the woods….
An early 1900s deer and propped rifle at Snyder's Hotel in Jonas. |
At 84, Mahoning Valley’s Solomon Kemmerer was still a
hearty soul in 1890. The Allentown
Democrat said this about the old hunter and the state of the herd:
“He is one of the pioneers who pitched his tent in the
wilderness when deer, bear, and other wild game were as plentiful as domestic
animals now are, and he has been a hunter and a gunner all his life and is
still a good one.”
The paper went on to disclose the details of Solomon’s
upcoming hunt to the Pine Swamp and how he had three stops in mind: Charles
Wernet’s “Wernet Hotel,” then Freeman Getz’s place in Albrightsville, ending in
western Monroe, at Jonas Snyder’s Hotel.
The fact that an 84-year old was still hunting in
those days is a testament to much. The
fact that a hunter in 1890 had to travel so far in the hopes of bagging one is
a testament to just how thin the herd was.
Travel in those days was hazardous. The fact that Solomon Kemmerer, at his
advanced age, braved the traveling up and over the mountains between the
Mahoning Valley and the north woods, is worth noting.
In March of 1915, Mrs. Charles Huseman of
Albrightsville was traveling by team to catch a train in Mauch Chunk when the
harness broke and her team of two horses ran off.
Helplessly coasting down a steep grade, the tongue
caught the ground, and the sudden stop sent both her and her young passenger
Lillian Danner hurtling through the air.
The young Danner girl struggled with her injuries to
find help at a nearby home. But it
didn’t matter. Huseman’s life was gone
from a break in her neck.
This type of travel did not stop those wishing to
return to nature or to find relief from the hot summers of city life. Hotel life in northern Carbon County added
money to the mountain economy.
Dogs, Birds and Rabbits - Small game hunting at Jonas Snyder's 1920s |
Mountain Economy: Outfitters and Hotels
Those of the Pine Swamp were resourceful. Making a living there was tough (see "Moonshine and Horseradish" article)
and many made ends meet as they could: from timbering to sawmill and stave
mills, to railroading, to trading in moonshine and apple jack, to selling
Canadian Christmas trees and distilling wintergreen (Carbon County provided over 80% of the world supply- See "Lost Stills of the Pine Swamp.")
Some mountain men were hired guns and trappers who
could secure a bear or a catamount or deer for a price. On a stroll through Albrightsville a hundred
years ago, one could find any number of bears and deer, hanging from front
porch rafters.
At $25 per bear, those folk could salt money away to
get through the harsh mountain winter.
While many like Franz Wernet, Jonas Snyder, and
Freeman “Harry” Berger ran hotels that catered to sportsman of the day, many
also found a source of “pin-money” by taking in hunters to their homes.
This tradition still continued up until recently.
Hotels catered to bringing their clients in from the
train stations as far away as White Haven or even Mauch Chunk. In the early days, this of course would be by
horse team (see the 1912 American letterhead below compared to the 1920 shown here).
And this 1920 American Hotel letterhead promotes their automobile service.
Northern Carbon Hunting Hotels- Getz, Wernet, Berger,
and Snyder
The Getz Farm:
The Freeman Getz’s farm, catty corner from Berger’s American Hotel in Albrightsville, took in up to eighteen hunters each season. In the 1950s, the rate was $7 per day, room
and board included.
Hunters received a hot breakfast and dinner after dark
as well as a cold lunch and coffee to carry into the woods for the day.
Freeman’s son Claude carried on this tradition into
the 1960s. Claude’s son Charlie
remembers sleeping on the floor each deer season.
The mountain families relied on this money. Charlie said his parents only brought in
about $2,000 in yearly income at that time.
The deer season money provided about one-fourth of their yearly income.
The Wernet House - A favorite with fishermen and
huckleberry pickers:
Francis "Franz" Wernet's August 1911 obituary from the Altoona-Tribune. |
Franz Wernet (1829-1911) received the title “Huckleberry
King” because of his 4,000 acres of prime timber and huckleberry lands. His holdings bridge the land between Albrightsville
and Meckesville today.
Wernet’s youngest two boys, Frank (1860-1921) and
Charles (1862-1907) had substantial hotels of their own. Frank ran the grand Effort Hotel and Charles
had the Jamestown Hotel in Lehighton, a favored spot for the men of the
Packerton Yard.
The Jamestown Hotel in the 1960s - Wernet Family It burned to the ground in the 1980s. (North First St Lehighton - looking north) |
Charles had two sons, Fred (1898-1963) and Charles Jr
(1901-1970).
They robbed the well-known
White Haven peddlers on the road between White Haven and Meckesville in
1919. They tried to blame their deed on
the Van Horn boys of Mecksville. Fred
and Charles were found guilty.
Franz died in 1911 leaving the original Wernet hotel unattended. And since his son Charles had died in 1907 and Frank busy with his hotel, a young Allentown man came on to take over the Wernet House.
Fred Treichler (1885-1942) was a stable hand at an inn
or hotel and came to Albrightsville for only a short time. By 1918, he was living in Allentown working
at Bethlehem Steel.
His lease or a loan from the Wernet boys to run the hotel
must have kept him in a constant money-pinch.
In 1912, Treichler wrote John Snyder of the Jonas
Hotel asking for a loan of some soft drinks and beer, stating his funds were
low from recently paying his $121.74 lien.
However, he did enclose $5 for a gallon of whiskey and
a gallon of gin the Snyder’s also sent him previous.
When Treichler left the Wernet House, he didn’t leave
empty handed. He married the farmer’s
daughter Mollie, of Charles and Malinda Dotter.
Charles Jr. took over the Wernet House until he died
in June 1944. His sons, Xavier and Fred,
ran it until October 1948 when a fire reduced the hotel to its
foundations.
(Interestingly, the Wernet Hotel in Effort had
a similar but less damaging fire in May 1951.)
Like many hotels of that time and place, it had a tap
room, dining hall, and dance floor.
The Effort Village Inn from 1915 - Frank Wernet Follows a similar construction as the Jamestown Hotel with the same Mansard roof-line and turret |
Berger’s American Hotel:
On the other corner from the Getz farm still stands Freeman
“Harry” Berger’s “American Hotel.” Like
many of these hotel owners at that time, Harry Berger (1885-1946) was also a
farmer. The fall hunting and spring
trout seasons were keen contributors to their yearly income.
The hotel passed to Harry’s oldest son Thomas
(1909-1959) until the 1950s. Then
Thomas’s youngest brother Howard “Chubby” (1928-2004) ran it up to the 1970s. Chubby’s son Mark (1974-2016) still lived at
the hotel as his home.
The hotel may have been started by the “J. Christman”
who owned the property in 1876. At that
time, maps show two wintergreen distilleries and several sawmills nearby. (See article on "Lost Stills of the Pine Swamp" on wintergreen distilling.)
By 1898, the “American” was run by a Henry L. Huseman
(1866-1945).
(It is unclear if this Henry was related to the
Huseman’s mentioned earlier. Neither is
he known to be related to those Huseman’s buried in the Old Albrightsville
Cemetery. There is a Henry “C.” Huseman
(1882-1914) buried there. Henry “L.” was
buried in Berks County.)
Henry L. Huseman emigrated from Germany as a child,
first settling in Berks County. By
January 1898 he was appointed post master and ran the property until around
1910 when he moved back to Berks.
Back when hunters paraded their trophies home - Jonas Snyder's 1920s |
Jonas Snyder- Jonas Hotel:
Another émigré from the Lynn Township area was Jonas Snyder
(1830-1905). He left West Penn Township,
not too far from Lynn, in the late 1850s.
He started a hotel and wielded significant power in
the area, becoming a Monroe County Commissioner (said to have given the impetus
for the building of the 1890 courthouse by hosting the other two commissioners
at his hotel for a weekend.)
Jonas Snyder built a solid and steady empire. (Many Democratic judges would ask Jonas to hold political rallies at his tavern.)
He took over from a Mr. Singmaster for about $400. Besides the hotel there was an established apple orchard and saw mill. After running the hotel for about 50 years, he slowly
turned the enterprise over to his oldest and youngest sons: John (1867-1948)
and Charles (1878-1958).
John Snyder (1867-1948) on porch of the hotel. |
Charles Snyder (1878-1958) |
1940 - The 50th Anniversary of John and Anna Snyder at Snyder's Grove behind the hotel. |
The Snyder brothers ran several enterprises from the
hotel: Timbering and wood products from the water-powered sawmill to slate shingles, grist-mill
for horse and other livestock feeds, to hunting guides and to farm implement
sales to beer, liquor and soft drink brokers, to having one of the finest
vineyards and wineries around.
Many people relied on the Snyders as their "bank" of choice when needing a loan. Notes have been found among their papers with simple terms: "I promise to pay Jonas Snyder..." A testament to their business skill and respect in the area, few failed to repay them.
Additionally, this is how the Snyders expanded their land holdings as well, picking up notes and taking over properties of those in need or want of selling. This is how Jonas was able to add onto his original 120-acre tract.
Many people relied on the Snyders as their "bank" of choice when needing a loan. Notes have been found among their papers with simple terms: "I promise to pay Jonas Snyder..." A testament to their business skill and respect in the area, few failed to repay them.
Additionally, this is how the Snyders expanded their land holdings as well, picking up notes and taking over properties of those in need or want of selling. This is how Jonas was able to add onto his original 120-acre tract.
(The grape vines grew over the numerous lengths of
stone rows of their 460-plus acre farm. When the Held's owned it, the grounds were down to 60 acres.)
Older brother John mostly handled the business end of
things while the younger Charles did more of the physical work of the business,
running the mills and serving as guide to the hunters and fishers.
The going weekly rate wasn’t consistent, the chief
factor determined by the size of your bank account. John quoted a young executive from
Philadelphia $11.00 for the week. To
remember this, he referenced the quoted price on the bottom of the letter he
saved.
John Hooke, new to the Philadelphia area from Ohio was
on business in Wilkes-Barre in the spring of 1920. He was looking for a place for his wife and
daughter to “escape the city heat.”
Local bands would play concerts in Snyder’s Grove, just
behind the hotel, along the cool waters of Sand Creek.
Other fairly local people reserved the grounds for
picnics, like the one set up in by Mauch Chunk’s William E. Bevan for the
Carbon Court House gang.
Local photographer Philip Kishpaugh set up a dinner at
the hotel in exchange for his Pineforest Concert Band playing a concert at the
grove.
The Brothers Snyder - Charles in white and John with cigar around 1900. The two men ran the hotel as long as their father did. 100 years of Snyder ownership: Jonas c. 1850-1900 & Boys 1900-1950. |
Comically wreckless - Successful and happy rabbit hunters at Snyder's Jonas Hotel around 1910. Notice a slightly glum Charlie Snyder far right. |
The letter from Pineforest Concert Band treasurer Philip Kishpaugh setting up a concert date and dinner at Jonas. |
Philip Kishpaugh (1874-1948) with his camera equipment. |
Both picnics were in the spring of 1920.
Jonas could be a stubborn sort. Even though he lived to see his sons expand
their trade and by building a larger hotel next to his original, he quietly
refused to set foot into the new confines.
He died in 1905.
Not opposed to the outdoors and a beer - This 1920s Jonas Hotel customer looks at ease in an era when women like Amelia Earhart were carving new boundaries for women and women's rights. For a good, thought provoking look at the struggle women had to over come to wear pants is worth a look click here. |
More Mountain Money:
Carbon County’s current status as a leading national
tree farm grower has its roots with the men of northern part of the
county.
Men like Harry and his son Thomas Berger, along with
Roger Meckes and others, traveled to Canada and Maine each year in October to
oversee the cutting of wild pines. The
trees were then freighted back home to Carbon via railroad.
(Canadian law prohibited non-citizens from cutting Canadian
trees. Men like Meckes and Berger were relegated to simply “overseeing” the enterprise by hiring
Canadians.)
One article implied that these hucksters could make
over $1,000 on four freight cars of trees.
Another story sometimes told talks of Meckes, flush
with his winter earnings and looking for a place to flaunt it, stopped in at
the Jonas Hotel, now under the ownership of brothers John and Charlie
Snyder.
Meckes laid out seven, one-thousand dollar bills,
proclaiming them to be the “Seven Books of Moses.” (Thousand dollar bills were only printed in
1928 and 1934. They had Grover Cleveland
on them.)
Charlie Snyder turned from what was laid out before
him, mechanically rolled the dial of John’s
floor safe by his desk, and retrieved what looked like two giant balls of
twine.
A closer inspection revealed that these small
cantaloupe-sized orbs were actually balls of money. Of which, Charlie Snyder, in a thick Dutch
accent, presented as the “Old Testament” and the “New.”
Many transactions passed through the physical bounds
of the Hotel Jonas. John Snyder’s clout
and business savvy were often called upon, either to mediate a property
transfer or because folks knew he could help them in a financial pinch.
Many letters and notes saved from his record attest to
the loans and deals he held and made.
This is thanks to the foresight of Tom and Ellen Held. Tom’s parents owned the hotel from 1950 to
1960.
Even by 1904, Jonas’s son John was known to take on
real estate holdings for people in need.
In October of that year, Pierce Meckes solicits John Snyder, to buy his
farm and every “sing” (I always knew the Dutch to say the word ‘sing’ for
‘thing’ but never saw it actually written before.)
Meckes asked for $450 for the whole works. He most likely had given up of farming, as he
had already moved off to the city, Bethlehem, working at a lumber works there.
“Going Dry” Prohibition & Revenuer Troubles
Among their many hats, the Snyder family timbered and cut lumber for various purposes from plaster lathe to house planking. Charles is shown here sporting their forest fire equipment. |
Snyder’s cousin, Atty. Edward Sitler of Mauch Chunk,
requested a few bottles or a quarter barrel of some of their premise made
wines, such as wild cherry, blackberry or grape.
Another customer at Jonas hotel wrote them to ask if
Charlie wouldn’t mind doing some “jacking” for him. From an earlier visit and conversation with
Charlie, the patron was hoping they would let a barrel of cider out to ferment in
the winter elements and then “draw off” that which didn’t freeze.
By repetition of this process the resulting liquid was
a high-proof alcohol. This freeze
distillation is how early colonials produced their “apple jack.”
With the repeal of Prohibition at the end of 1933,
federal and state regulators buzzed local taverns like angry hornets.
The Bergers ran into some trouble with the revenue men
when it was discovered that his wife Darlene had signed for the hotel liquor
license renewal.
Harry was up in the north woods securing Christmas
trees when the application to renew arrived.
Agents served them notice in February 1935.
Later, federal agents arrived and seized several
barrels of apple jack.
Then in July 1935, state agents once again raided
Harry Berger’s “considerable supply” of applejack and placed him into custody.
Unusual Requests:
Many of the patrons of Snyder’s Hotel made various
requests.
This 1900 fur price list was found among the papers of John Snyder. It was important for John to know the value of furs and skins as he was often times asked to provide them for his customers. |
One man from Red Hill wrote a letter thanking John for
mailing him the fox. See the 1900 fur
prices (this list, found among Snyder’s things, was important for him to know,
helping them to set prices for the animals they “caught” for their customers.) A fox fur was paid $1.25 in those days.
The customer sent John $6. Obviously, John was a good businessman. But it appears from his general free nature
of these transactions, he sent the fox but it never seems like he demands a
price.
The man volunteered the amount of $6 to him and asked
if that was sufficient for the animal plus shipping. The man ends the letter stating how much he’d
like a “catamount” (bob cat) “if John ever catches one.”
Amby Mertz shot a gray fox on his Mahoning Valley farm
in 1924. His taxidermy bill was $10.
Ambrose Mertz's 1910 full mounted grey fox taxidermy bill from Tamaqua's C. W. Hoffman. |
Dr. E. Stanton Muir, whom his veterinary doctoral
students at the University of Penn affectionately referred to as “Eddy” was
another loyal customer of the Snyders, though he also fished and hunted at a
few other Pocono mountain hotels and fisheries.
Those students were entertained by his stories of his
hunts in the “wild woods,” but seemed to call into question who actually shot
his bear.
The bottom of Dr. E. Stanton Muir's 1910 letter to John Snyder asking for "a pair of birds" for up to $1.50, "and no one will have to know about it." |
Certainly his line “and no one will have to know about
it” deeply implies that Dr. Muir might claim as his own, the things shot by
others.
Muir used that line when he wrote John Snyder asking for
“2 birds” to be sent to him, saying he was willing to pay “up to $1.50” for the
pair. And surely if Snyder didn’t find
that price appealing, he wouldn’t reply.
Near Tall Tales - Tough Going in the Snow:
These are the third generation Snyder men of Jonas Snyder Hotel in the 1930s. |
Many city-folk came to northern Carbon to hunt and
lived to tell of it. Allentown citizens,
James Ettinger and Ralph Butz had a tough time bringing in their 135-pound buck
shot in Albrightsville in early December 1912.
After stalking for two and a half days, they shot and then tracked a deer in six to eight inches of snow, ten miles from their camp in
Albrightsville.
They carried the deer out on their backs for
a mile through snow drifts into the darkness, lucky to have found a road and even luckier to have found a team of passing horses by. But the team got
stuck in the snow, requiring the men to dig for two hours to get going again.
They also shot five pheasants, a “big” jack rabbit,
and four cottontails. They mounted the deer to remember their harrowing time.
Getting Back to the Garden
Men like Carlos Baer, son of Eugene Baer the silk mill
owner of Lehighton, (he was uncle and namesake of Carlos Teets, current
Lehighton resident) found both solace and camaraderie with his college friends
in 1934.
The cover of the booklet sent to Baer read:
“Believe it
or not- This is an Invitation for your 1934 vacation.”
Then more pages of various inspirational
poems and prose about the benefits of getting away.
The last page said: “14 days in God’s
Country: no women, no razor, no cares- Will you be with us?…Sign on the dotted
line!!”
The space was signed by Curtis Clark, Red Sondheim,
John Lauler, and Alvin Goethe. Each
person had the job of mailing it to the next person on the list (no chain
letter threats needed to be made, it was all implied).
John Bitterling and Other Near Tall Tales:
Post #3 will present among other things some of the
“tall tales” of area hunting. However,
there are some accounts of mountain life in Carbon County that edge up to
qualifying as a tall tale.
Certainly shooting a large buck in the north woods of
Carbon is a possibility. But even the
largest deer taken around the valley farmlands rarely exceed 200 pounds.
Berks County brothers, dentist Clarence DeLong and his
sixteen-year-old brother David took to the swamps of Albrightsville and each
came home with a deer.
Dr. Clarence bagged a 150-pound Y-buck while David landed
a deer topping 250-pounds (December of 1915.)
The elder DeLong said he saw five others.
John Bitterling:
As mentioned at the start, John Bitterling was one who
relied on the hotels of the Hickory Run area, partial to the Dotter Inn.
He was one Allentown “city-slicker” who felt more at home in Carbon’s
north woods.
In early April of 1910, amid the early spring thaw and
runoff, John Bitterling took his dog for a three day trek through the dense
thickets of Hickory Run, Mud Run, and Leslie Run on a 40-mile circuitous walk
from White Haven to Meckesville (the headwaters of Mud Run).
One doesn’t set out on this type of journey just to
scout trout, they do it because the land calls them.
“It would seem from this fact, that man is naturally a wild animal, and that when taken from the woods, he is never happy in his natural state, ‘till he returns to them again.”
~Dr.
Benjamin Rush, signer of the Declaration of Independence and one who trained Merriwether
Lewis on medicine and science at the American Philosophical Society in
Philadelphia prior to his famous 1803 expedition. Rush's Society was the first think tank for science in the United States. He formed it with Ben Franklin and
others.
In August of 1897 (at the age of 40) Bitterling found
a 200-pound black bear in a trap along the Mud Run. Taking the bear alive in shackles and chains,
he walked the bear back to Albrightsville to be sold.
(Game was often sold to hotels and inns for “hustle
matches,” the shooting contests of that time –See Post #1).
In the fall of 1901, Bitterling along with Wilson and
Morris Desch, brought home 18 pheasants, 2 quail, and 4 rabbits in late October
1901.
Wilson and Morris had two other brothers and all four were avid marksmen and members of the Allentown Rod and Gun Club. They were born on a Lehigh County farm of their minister father Henry.
One October morning in 1909, Morris Desch challenged his friends to a squirrel shoot. They met at the Lynnport Hotel and made a gentleman’s wager as to who could fill their gunnysack with the daily limit of six.
Desch was back by 1:00, while the last man returned at
4:00. Landlord Brobst made the men a "fine
squirrel stew," the losers bought the drinks I’m sure.
At the same time, Desch’s friend John Bitterling was
hunting in the Poconos with other Allentown friends, the newspaper account
told.
Bitterling’s adventures seem to border on the verge of
tall tales, though nothing in his stories indicate any alternative truth
telling.
Bitterling was actually born in Jim Thorpe. His family apparently happy and intact prior
to his father’s service as 1st Lieutenant for Company F of the First
Pennsylvania Rifles, the famous “Bucktail Regiment” (the men wore bucktails on
their hats).
The Bucktails were a well-known and respected
sharpshooting regiment.
Certainly a fact not lost here is that John Bitterling
competed far and wide in trapshooting competitions across the state, as far
away as Altoona.
See the end notes for more of the John Bitterling and
1st Lieutenant J. Charles Bitterling’s story.
Close-up of the fly-fisher from the letterhead of Brook Trout Company hatchery of Penn Forest from 1917. This is the picture I have of John Bitterling in his days of stalking Mud and Leslie Runs. |
Maybe you could say John Bitterling never had a
master, a confirmed bachelor (and so were the Desch men).
And maybe his true grit, his hearty and hale
lifestyle, was borne from a “bitter” angst, of his loss, of growing up in the
shadow of the hero’s battlefield death of his father when he was just a few
years old.
But it was Bitterling’s mother who braved a journey
into the war zone to retrieve her husband’s remains from the battlefield just
eight days later.
Maybe the determination of such a mother is what instilled
this truth into Bitterling’s soul.
The Bitterlings, the Wernets, the Snyders, the Bergers,
the Getzs, the Dotters…the Uncle Keen's and Henry's…they are all gone to us. And like the last cries of the wolves,
wolverines, and panthers that once bounced off the hills of Carbon County,
their voices can still resonate within us, by taking the time to hear their
stories.
History freely offers us these dream-like characters. There is an unquestionable loss that burns in
the living since the time of the Garden, from the days when the wilderness was
our primal home.
And nothing can fulfill that need except the next
journey to the wild.
~~~~~~~~
Postscript: This post is dedicated to Tom and Ellen Held, for their patience and gracious help in writing this piece. Most of the images appear courtesy of their collection. All rights reserved, Tom and Ellen Held.
A perhaps glum or pensive Charles Snyder in his favorite sitting spot at the hotel sometime after the Snyder's sold the place to the Held family in 1950. Charlie lived there another eight years. |
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END NOTES POST #2:
1. John
Bitterling
John Bitterling died at 2:00 AM in Kidder Township on
June 6, 1917. He was sixty.
He was staying at his favorite inn, the home hotel of Ella
Dotter. Her husband Melchoir died the
previous fall of Brights disease. (His father
Heinrich originally came from Dotter’s Eck, near Hotel Jonas.)
Of dying breeds, Dotter was a cattle herder (probably
running cattle from the rails to White Haven butchers), winter green distiller,
and a small time inn operator. (Wintergreen distilling post.)
Bitterling’s
obituary said he was up for fishing (an avid fly fisher) and to provide an
estimate to run some pipes in the clubhouse of Colonel Trexler’s Hickory Run
game preserve, then the size of about 2,000 acres. This land of course became Hickory Run State
Park. (See Post #1 for more on that.)
It seems like Bitterling's circle of friends was a
coterie of bachelors. With him at
Dotter’s Inn, was James Nonnemacher, a self-described “capitalist” and Allentown
coal dealer. (He lived with his unmarried
sister and brother, outliving them both as well as outliving two house
keepers.)
From Allentown to the White Haven's north woods - A Bitterling was either on a trip there or if not, certainly always planning his next one - Fall 1908. |
Also with them was Allentown’s Harry Scheldon, a
wooden stave barrel maker living at Barndt’s hotel.
About six months before his death, Bitterling
presented a mountain ash tree to the city of Allentown. Said to have bloomed “profusely” that spring,
the tree seemed to be as hale and hearty as John himself.
But two months after his death, the tree too was dead
and removed, as noted in the Allentown newspaper.
John Bittlering grew up without a father. J. Charles was second in command, First
Lieutenant of the First Pennsylvania Rifles, also known as the Pennsylvania
Bucktails.
The Bucktails were drawn out of a defensive posture
around Washington DC in September 1862 as the Confederates were striking north
into Maryland in what would become the bloodiest two-day battle of the war,
Antietam.
But as the men, under general command of Lancaster’s
John Reynolds, hero and martyr of Gettysburg, Company F was part of 300 men
asked to advance as skirmishers to force the Confederates left. The Bucktails came under enfilading artillery
and sharpshooter fire at South Mountain.
According to the regiment history, Bitterling cheered
on the men of his command with his last breath.
He was buried on the battle field as the army quickly advanced toward
Antietam Maryland.
Given this an almost rare foray into the north, meant
that thankfully Bitterling was buried on friendly ground. This allowed his young wife Celinda and her
father the ability to track down his body and return it to Mauch Chunk (Jim
Thorpe) to be buried with military honors.
Celinda’s father was Daniel Keiper originally from
Bowmanstown and a verteran of the War of 1812.
At the time of J. Charles’ death in September 1862, Daniel was 68 years
old.
Celinda’s mother was Salome Bowman or Bauman, the
original family of “Bowman’s Station,” Carbon County.
Celinda and her young family moved to Allentown to be
with her family. Harriet would grow to
become an Allentown Public School teacher and John became a plumber of his own
shop. He also had two other sisters Ella
and Eva.
Celinda died in January 1917 and John unexpectedly
followed her in July.
J. Charles Bittlering was 34 and had four children who
lived to adulthood. Charles Henry was
born in 1856 and died a year later as well as Gustavus Adolphus born in 1857
died in 1858. John had three sisters.
Portrait of 1st Lieutenant J. Charles Bitterling of the Pennsylvania Bucktails before he was killed at South Mountain, Sept 1862. |
As the son of a veteran killed in action, Bitterling
entered a trade school for fatherless sons of veterans in Texas. He then set up his successful plumbing
business with a partner.
He was director of the Pennsylvania State Sportsmans’
Association, member of the Elks, treasurer for the Master Plumber’s
Association, Chamber of Commerce, director of the Hunter’s Range Association, Schwanewert
Recreation Association, North End Gun Club, Little Lehigh Strollers, and the
local Red Cross.
The Master Plumber Association held a surprise meal in
Bitterling’s honor in January 1907, presenting him with a gold watch fob and
gold seal. They said though he was
surprised, he was able to make comments suitable for the occasion.
His remains were received the next day at his home he
shared with his sister, school teacher Miss Hattie Bitterling. He also had two other sisters, Mrs Ella
Jones, and Mrs. Eva Wenner, her husband John was the vice-president of the
Allentown National Bank.
Another 1905 gun supply letter to Jonas Snyder from a Philadelphia Company selling Winchester products. |
2. Shoemaker’s
“Stories of Pennsylvania Animals” circa 1915
Today’s deer harvests are much higher thanks to all of
the conservation and applied science to Pennsylvania’s wilderness.
The habitat has stabilized from the impact of the wild
ravages man inflicted here. It could be
said that Carbon gave its first born son to America’s growth, its world
dominance today is rooted in the fuel our area gave, the subsidence of
anthracite coal mining and the deforestation of our old growth forest. So during Shoemaker’s time, our woods were
still reeling from the impact.
Concerning fur bearing animals: the fisher, otter,
beaver, and wolverine, Shoemaker said all four were once here in plentiful
numbers. And despite a healthy
resurgence of river otters today, the wolverine are all long gone.
Of fox, Shoemaker claimed the grey fox as the native
one to the state. The now more common
red fox was imported in the late 1700s from Europe by hunters who claimed it
gave better chase to the hounds.
Of big game, buffalo and elk were once native
here. Now elk are back on the rise.
Of “stags,” it was said that the central part of the
state once had a larger variety deer than exists today. The northern Pennsylvania Mountains had a
breed larger than the current herd.
Our current herd descends from those stocked here from
Michigan by Dr. Kalbfus from around 1900-1920 and from a smaller Southern
Virginia deer.
Meckesville still exists in the minds of many today, though
a large tract of it has become Mt. Pocahontas development. In fact, the current club house was the
former home of Roger Meckes (1880-1958). (His father was Samuel Meckes
(1834-1908), the youngest brother to Adam Meckes (1815-1897), brother to near
oldest brother of fourteen Philip Meckes (1819-1900.)
It is little wonder the area was named this in light
of so many. One of Roger’s first cousins
was Adam’s son Pierce (1860-1916). By
1904, Pierce had given up on the farm life with his young family, having seen
too little reward for the effort he applied.
Roger was a well-known potato farmer as well as
Christmas tree dealer (see “Fire and the Fury” Post #1 for more on him). Roger Meckes was land rich, but money poor
toward the end of his life.
And that is how Robert Getz, “the Potato King” came to
own his land. The many farms of that
area, Getz, Meckes, and Kibler, mainly grew potatoes there up until recent
years.
4. The
Strauchs of Allentown
Their parents, Heinrich Strauch and Anna Foesche, came
to America separately, both settling in Tamaqua’s “Dutch Hill” in the
1870s. Heinrich was a butcher, later
settling in Hacklebernie.
They lived in Lehighton for a time, but then moved to
Allentown.
Only three of the eleven Strauch siblings ever owned a
car. The Strauchs simply walked. Besides Henry, Edwin and Carl also owned
cars, but that didn’t stop Carl, a Lehigh Professor of Literature, from taking “grand
walks” of 12 or 15 miles or more.
Uncle Carl, a professor of the Romantics and especially Thoreau and his "social disobedience," had one daughter named Helen who grew to look out for her fellow man by adopting many children with special needs through a Roman Catholic agency.
Carl's wife Helen was the daughter of D.G. Dery of Catasauqua, who controlled more silk mills than anyone else in the world.
She appears to have been swept up by the winds of disenchantment, enfranchising herself with a Native American and Catholic Priest involved in a smaller group of the Plowshares Movement called the Silo Pruning Hooks. They took a jackhammer to a missile silo. She served the longest prison sentence for peace activism of anyone in U.S. history.
All the other Strauch siblings worked in silk mills, except
Anna Margaret, who was a telephone operator supervisor. Anna Margaret, Leonard, and Lizzy never
married. Kate’s husband was blacklisted for starting a union and “ran-off” to
Canada.
The Strauch Siblings - As I remember them, always surrounded by books, from the early 1970s. From Left: Carl, Anna "Margaret", Leonard, unknown, Henry, and Elizabeth "Lizzie." This is the younger end of the siblings: Carl (1908-89) the youngest, Margaret (1906-98), Leonard (1900-93), Henry (1902-85), and Lizzie (1896-1973). Neither Lizzie, Leonard, nor Margaret ever married, they lived together, Lizzie being the "matriarch" after their mother's death in 1945. Carl widowed here, and Henry had married briefly. (More Strauch family info at this link.) |
Armed with two, one-quart lard pales tied around his
neck with butcher twine, Henry was gone from morning to supper, always coming
home to his sister with two full pales.
She’d make pie, always with lard in her homemade crusts.