Not Only in Name
Was the Licking Bridge of Death
It Fell With Fifth
Ill fated Workmen \
The Crowning Horror
in the History of Three Cities
Piling in the
Shifting Bed of the Treacherous Stream
Gave Way Beneath the
“False Structure” of the Bridge
Like A Toy it
collapsed and Fell a Total Wreck
Twenty Two Men Dead
of Drowning or Worse
As Many More Are
Badly Hurt and Seven Are Missing
Robert and Andrew
Baird, The Famed Bridge Builders
Go Down to Death
With Their Two Score Workmen.
One woman loses Three
sons –Four Companions Die Together – Scenes of Horror and Woe
An hour before noon yesterday, in the yellow, muddy
valley of the treacherous Licking, occurred the most appalling calamity in
the history of the three cities at the river’s mouth.
Two score and more of workmen, toiling beneath the
scorching sun for their daily bread, were suddenly hurtled in a mass of
wreck and ruin, stunned and bleeding, beneath the rivers yellow blossom.
Some rose to struggle desperately for life-most died
miserably from wounds or by drowning, entangled in the network of the
fallen bridge.
No warning came to them. There was but an instant
of swaying, and then the chaos of crashing, grinding ruin and death.
Those who left kitchen and babies and ran to the
river bank found their worst fears more than realized. Half a score of
the sixty-three men who were employed on the bridge were standing about
speechless and appalled. The river was blocked from bank to bank with a
mass of debris, which had been the false work of the central span. In it
were the bodies of twenty-five men or more [the final count was 41], while
in the neighboring houses some poor, maimed, and crushed unfortunates were
dying deaths of agony.
It was a scene such as, in merciful probability, may
never be witnessed again in the three cities.
According to a careful estimate – for certainty is
yet impossible – fifty four men were on the span which gave way. Of
these, twenty-two are dead, either in Covington or Newport, twenty-one are
injured, many fatally, and five are missing – no doubt buried beneath the
wreck of the bridge. Four alone escaped unhurt.
How It Happened
The Story of the
Casualty as Told by Eye Witnesses
The bridge, which will be historical for the awful
calamity attending its building, will, when completed, span the Licking
River from Eleventh street in Newport to Twelfth street in Covington. Two
massive piers erected at the river’s edge are to support the ends of a
long iron span. A false structure had been erected between these two
piers. It was supported by piling driven in the slimy, shifting bottom of
the river, and leaving a narrow channel for navigation. The insecurity of
the foundation of this wooden structure was the cause of yesterday’s awful
accident. The piles which upheld it were not fixed to bear the might
weight of the iron span which was being built upon it.
Yesterday, sixty-three men were employed upon the
bridge. Fifty-four of them were working upon the central span connecting
the heavy iron girders which were being swung into place by the
“traveler,” a huge contrivance of timbers, trussed together with iron
rods, and running on rollers sixty three feet above the top of the piers
and 126 feet from the surface of the river. Some of the men were working
at this dizzying height, but most of them were below the huge “traveler”
working at the jointing of the iron girders.
A good deal of uneasiness concerning the security of
the wooden false work had been felt. Murray Reardon, a carpenter who was
working on the bridge, was talking to Frank Mure, the foreman, only a few
moments before the accident concerning this very thing. Mure laughed at
his uneasiness, but Reardon reiterated what he said.
“I tell you that false work won’t stand the weight
of those girders,” said he. “It shakes every time the traveler runs out.
You can’t drive piles in that river that will be secure.”
Reardon went out to work on the middle span. He
started for the blacksmith shop for some bolts. On of his fellow workmen
called him back, saying that he had enough bolts to fill their needs for
the present.
“Never mind,” shouted Reardon, “I’ve come this far, I
might as well get them now.”
Providence was generous to this one man. He had
scarcely reached the east pier before he heard a cracking and groaning of
timbers behind him. He heard Charles Wilkinson, a “top man” standing near
the engine, back of the pier, shout: “Look out!” and saw the other men
bout the engine fleeing wildly from their places.
They saw that the bridge was going down and were
getting beyond the reach of breaking and flying cables. Then Reardon and
every other workman who was safe beyond the fatal center span saw a sight
which they will remember to their dying day. The great wooden structure of
the temporary bridge, with the fifty men doting it above, below, and on
every side, “wavered,” sank, and fell with a mighty crash into the river.
Here and there a man jumped clear of the falling structure, but most of
the workmen went down with the wreck. There was a moment during which
every man stood paralyzed with horror.
Then they ran for the skiffs to begin the work of
rescue. The news that the bridge had fallen spread like wildfire through
Covington, Newport, and Cincinnati. Within less than half an hour the
banks were thronged with horror stricken crowds, which fell back in
silence to permit the passage of stretchers bearing the dead bodies of the
working men.
Rescuers at Work
How the Wounded and Dead Were Got Out of the Wreck
The quest for the bodies of the men who went down
with the might mass of broken timbers and twisted iron was at first an
easy one.
Some of the motionless, bleeding bodies lay upon the
elevated portions of the wreck, clear of the water. These were the men
whom the fall had killed. Others, caught in the mass of wreckage, were
but half submerged, and the few who witnessed the awful sight saw the
struggling limbs of drowning men raised in mute appeal for succor. Skiffs
put out hastily from either shore.
Rudolph Smith, the floating bath proprietor heard of
the horror almost immediately and sent a large skiff with three men,
Thomas Jordan, William Duffy, and Thomas McHugh to the scene of the
catastrophe. They succeeded in recovering five bodies from the wreck.
It was not difficult to find the bodies. They lay
mostly in plain sight, although many were pinned by fallen timbers or iron
trusses, which had to be lifted away before the bodies could be taken
aboard the skiffs. Before noon, nineteen bodies had been landed, eleven
on the Newport banks, and six on the Covington side [11 + 6 = 19 ?].
Among the first of them were the bodies of the two
contractors, Robert and Andrew Baird. Andrew had seen the bridge for the
first time yesterday morning. He had just arrived from Pittsburg, and was
inspecting the bridge when the crash came. He had been scarcely an hour
upon the structure. The bodies of both contractors were bruised and
crushed beneath the falling timbers.
On the Covington bank of the Licking a hundred or
more men were at work in the Licking Roller Mills when the crash came.
They all yelled “The bridge has gone down,” as if
they had been forewarned. They ran out, and saw struggling in the water
the unfortunate workmen who had gone down in the awful wreck.
Like an army, a score or more of mill hands jumped
into the muddy water and swam to the wreck. Two or three men would gather
a body and swim with it to the Covington shore. Most of them were dead or
dying, but a few escaped with light injuries. In all, the mill men pulled
out eleven bodies. The injured were hurriedly placed in vehicles and move
to the St. Elizabeth Hospital.
The dead were placed on a float. Some had drowned,
while others had me with a more violent death.
After all of the injured had been removed, Patrol 1
of the Cincinnati force, came tearing down the street, and soon all the
bodies were removed to the morgue at Menninger’s undertaking
establishment. Among the mill men who assisted in the rescuing was E. A.
New. He relates a very sad story of the death of one workman. There was
a cry for help from the wreck in the middle of the river.
New heard it and jumped into the river after having
placed an injured man on a float. He swam to the wreck and found the man
who was crying for help. He was a young fellow, and when asked by New why
he did not jump out and swim he said “I can’t my leg is caught.” New
grabbed him by the hand and pulled, but it was no use. The poor fellow’s
right leg was held fast between two large pieces of iron. They pinioned it
near the thigh, and the blood trickling down his pants told that the iron
had cut the flesh. “For God’s sake, pull me out,” pleaded the poor
fellow, and again New pulled, but he could not budge him.
“I can’t get you out, your leg is caught,” said New.
“Then, by G-d, cut it off. Take your knife and cut
me out. Do something,” the pinioned man fairly shrieked.
“I’ve got nothing to cut you out with. Wait, I’ll
give you another pull,” said New, and just as he was about to grab the
fellow by the hand the wreck settled. The iron girders slipped from the
unfortunate’s legs and caught him under the chin. New jumped from the
wreck just in time to save his own life and to see the heavy irons sink,
with the poor fellows head between them. His head was dragged down under
the water and he was drowned.
The body was not secured.
A floating derrick was towed into position above the
wreck, and the towboat Hercules Carroll brought barges from the mouth of
the Licking for the rescuers to work from. A dozen men stripped to their
underclothes, and some of them, seeming semi-amphibious, clambered about
in the wreckage which clogged the river, or disappeared beneath the waters
surface for minutes at a time, groping blindly for the bodies of their
fellow workmen. At 1 o’clock, Charles Wilkenson, one of the divers, who
had himself been on the pier of the bridge when the middle span fell,
found the body of James Johnson, caught between two timbers, ten feet
below the rivers surface. With the assistance of other divers, Chris
Beck, Herman Burgess, Barney King, and Wilkenson succeeded in getting a
chain fastened to the submerged timber which held Johnson’s body. Then
the engine of the floating derrick dragged the timber to the surface.
Johnson’s body floated up with it and the divers caught it.
An hour later the divers found the body of john
Sullivan. It was pinned tightly in the wreck and it took a half hour’s
work to loosen it. The next body recovered, and the last, up to the hour
of going to press, was that of Chas. Gresham. It was found a few minutes
before 3 o’clock. It was caught but a foot below the surface of the
water, and the divers had been within a yard of it for half an hour before
it was discovered. It also was taken to the Newport morgue.
The divers continued their work during the afternoon
and late into the night but without avail. It seems probable that no more
bodies will be recovered until a large part of the wreckage has been
cleared away.
Three Heroes
One of Whom Saved Several Lives After the Terrible Fall
Charles H. Wilkerson, A Louisville bridge carpenter,
who boards at No 159 East Twelfth Street, Covington, acted a heroic part.
He was firing a pile driver engine at the end of the Newport pier when the
span gave way and precipitated its living fright into the Licking River.
The fragment of timber he stood on fell with the rest, and he alighted in
twenty feet of water near the Covington shore. He was bruised slightly,
but was otherwise uninjured.
The German known among his fellow workers as
“Skyhooks,” came to the surface. Wilkerson swam to the injured man and
kept him afloat until he was on dry ground. Wilkerson then turned his
attention to the other wounded men who were floating in the river, and
succeeded in rescuing three of them. He is subject to heart disease. One
man he was unable to reach drowned before his eyes, and the spectacle so
affected him that his heart refused action, and he fainted.
A glass of brandy was given him, and he recovered
sufficiently after a few moments to go again into the water. He dived for
the missing bodies, and succeeded in bringing up six of them – James J.
Johnson, Andrew Baird, Robert Baird, A Canadian called “Shampoo,”
Sullivan, and a name named Charley.
Wilkerson’s work of finding the bodies was greatly
facilitated by his knowledge of diving. He was a professional diver in
Lake Erie and on the Maumee River before he abandoned that kind of work
for bridge
building
Presence of Mind
Ben Arnold, a young workman, riveting a piece of
metal over the doomed span, was one of the few who heard the first warning
crack of the timbers.
He had been advised, in case of danger of the kind,
to climb as high as possible to escape being crushed to death. He began
going up one of the scaffolds, but had not ascended a dozen feet before
the entire mass collapsed. He fell a distance of 110 feet, striking a
floating timber. He shoulder was dislocated and his right arm broken
between the shoulder and the elbow.
He was taken to William Parmerlee’s boarding house,
419 Eleventh street, Newport, and attended by Dr. Pythian.
Arnold’s presence of mind undoubtedly saved his
life.
John Murray is another man whose life was saved by
his presence of mind. In telling of his experience he said, “I was twenty
feet above the superstructure and about 100 above the water when the work
fell. I lost my head until I was about half way down.
“A mass of timber and two men shot by me.
Remembered that I was on a lot of planks. I jumped so that I would land
further out on the water and clear the debris that caught the other two
men and killed them.”
Pure Carelessness
Murray Rardin Says it Was the Cause of the Accident
One man who can congratulate himself on his most
miraculous escape is Murray Rardin, residing on East Seventh street,
Newport, who was employed on the bridge as a carpenter. He told the story
to an Enquirer representative, and it throws the responsibility upon the
shoulders of the dead contractors.
“The news spread like wildfire” said Rardin,” and I
went to the nearest telephone and summoned surgeons and Coroner Dr. Fred
A. Davis. The cause of the accident was due to carelessness on the part
of the contractor. Weeks ago I told Frank Mure, the head carpenter, that
the false work was not sufficient to bear the strain of the span. He was
a rampant democrat, and I, being a strong Republican, he laughed at me and
said that we Republicans were afraid of our own shadows. I told other
people the same thing. When the piles were being driven in the Licking,
some of them would spring fifteen feet out of the ground, and again they
would be sunk simply with the weight of the hammer, which was 3,400
pounds. The false work was completed last Friday night, and the first
girder was taken out Saturday morning, and the false work shook like an
aspen leaf. The false work was not sufficiently strong to support the
weight, and the whole had to be supported by the traveler – the whole
thing then went down.
“The job,” said Rairdon, “was what was termed a
stake job. In other words, it was not thought that there was much in it.
The whole thing can be attributed to carelessness and nothing else.”
“Old Sis” Sponsor
Three of Her Sons Killed in the Accident
Out in the south-eastern Covington there is a tract
of ground known as “No Man’s Land.” It is to Covington what Deercreek was
to Cincinnati in its palmiest days.
Every resident of the place carries a sawed off
musket for a cane and every man and woman in the “suburb” has a record.
The most prominent woman in the “Land” is “Old Sis Sponsor.” She is as
well known in Covington police circles as Johanna McNamara is in
Cincinnati. She has been arrested time and time again for drunkenness,
but she always escaped the Work-house, because Kentuckians never send
women to the rock pile.
Old Sis had three sons Jack (24) Frank (21), and
Dick (18). They knew the weakness of their mother, but they cared for
her all the same. They all worked on the bridge, and went down with the
wreck. Everybody in Covington and Newport knew they had gone down,
because they were well known, but the poor living in no man’s land knew
nothing about it, and where she lived they have no telephone or telegraph
wires to carry the news of anything. Several hours passed but the mother
heard nothing about the accident.
She stood in the yard of her house overlooking the
muddy waters of the Licking.
But along in the afternoon, she heard that the
bridge went down. Who told her no one knows. It might have been a news
boy carrying the news. Without waiting to cover head to protect it from
the hot sun, she ran toward the city.
She was wringing her hands and crying for her “poor
boys.” They were all men but they were still her boys. The street she
ran, weeping as if her heart would break. She had received many shocks in
her day, but this was the saddest of all. At last she reached Twelfth
street. Turning down, she saw before her hundreds of sightseers coming
and going to the wreck. Some were laughing, and, while others, with sad
faces said, “What an awful accident.”
Old Sis pushed herself through the crowds and at
last reached the river bank where thousands of men, women and children
were watching for the wreckers to “pull out another.” They heard Old
Sis’s cries, and they made way for her. Down near the water’s edge, she
was stopped by a man who knew her, and knew her sons.
“You had better go back, Sis, you can do no good.
Jack and Frank are killed and Dick is missing,” said the acquaintance.
The information may have been meant in kindness, but
it was cruel to Old Sis.
“My God! My darling boys are all gone now,” shrieked
the poor woman as she sank to the ground. Kind hands carried her to a
shady spot, where she was cared for until Patrol 1 arrived and took her to
Cincinnati to the home of a friend on Walnut street, near the river.
Many think that the death of her three loved ones
will kill Old Sis.
“Don’t Cry, Annie”
Said Dying William Roby – Scenes at the Hospital and Morgue
William Roby, a twenty year old boy, at work on the
bridge with his brother, John Roby, was taken out of the river frightfully
mangled. His brother’s body had already been recovered and taken to the
boarding house, 524 Thornton street, Newport, and his widow was screaming
hysterically.
The younger brother was taken in a room, and soon
regained consciousness. He sent for the grief stricken woman and tried to
console her.
“Don’t cry, Annie,” he said painfully. “Jack’s all
right, I hope, and I’m not going to die.” He did not know that “Jack’s”
dead body was laid out in the other room or that his own injuries were of
so frightful a nature. A piece of timber had almost torn his stomach away
and the lower part of his body was already paralyzed.
A few minutes afterward he sent for the distracted
woman a second time and said, “Don’t cry, Annie, It hurts my head so.”
Annie checked her sobs until a short while after, and saw the wounded boy
die without adding to his suffering by telling him of his brother’s death.
As soon as news of the accident reached the St.
Elizabeth Hospital, the good sisters prepared to receive the injured.
In a very few minutes a rag wagon, with the old
horse going as fast as his legs could move, drove into the yard. It
carried Henry Kramer, 25, of Covington.
Drs. Kearns and Malloy were soon at his side, and
they found that his arm was broken and that he was badly bruised about the
body. He is an iron worker and was on top of the traveler when the
accident took place. He went down in the debris and had a very remarkable
escape.
The next man brought in was S. K. Kiel. His back
was hurt. Inspector Wilson was received a few moments later, with his
back sprained.
Then Patrick Murray was brought in. He was
unconscious. His ribs were broken and his skull was fractured. He
lingered until 3:20 o’clock, when he died. The body was removed to the
morgue.
Patrol 1 was the next arrival with a man who is
known only as “stock-yards.” His skull was fractured at the base of the
brain, and he died half an hour after he arrived at the hospital.
The bodies of Robert and Andrew Baird, the
contractors, lay side by side at the residence of the former, 1022
Columbia street, [Newport]. They are both badly cut and bruised, the
latter especially, part of his intestines protruding.
Andrew Baird arrived from Pittsburg but an hour and
a quarter before the accident, and but a few minutes before was joking
with some o the men. He was a magnificent specimen of manhood.
The following telegram was received two hours after
the accident by Mayor Thomas of Covington:
MAYOR OF COVINGTON: Do not spare expense but wire at
once condition of Andrew Baird, who was injured on the bridge. Can we
help him by coming on tonight’s train? Answer quick. Hutchinson, Wilmot
& Baird.”
When the telegram arrived, Andrew Baird was in the
morgue at Newport. He was instantly killed in the accident.
At the Morgue
Thousands of People
View the Long Row of Silent Bodies
There were
over 5,000 people at Menninger’s Morgue, in Covington, last night anxious
to ascertain who the dead were. Many people were making inquiries about
missing people, Thee was six [sic ] bodies at this place, and all bit one
was identified up to 10 o’clock. The man that was not identified died at
the hospital, and his name is said to be Meavers, but this is not
positively known. Two of the bodies will be sent to their relatives
today.
The crowd became so large that Mr. Menninger was
compelled to call a policeman to keep them back. Coroner Wilson will
commence the inquest upon the bodies today. The scene at the morgue was a
distressing one. Anxious-eyed women came frequently – anxious, and yet
fearing to look upon the bodies.
The bodies have all been embalmed.
There was a surging mass of humanity on East Sixth
street, in Newport, where M. Betz & son’s morgue is situated.
There were nine bodies packed in ice, and hundreds
of people viewed the mangled remains. There were few of the friends or
relatives, however, and all that were recognized were identified by fellow
workmen.
James Johnson, of Harve de Gras[sic], Md., when
found had $27.40, a silver watch, and a railroad pass from Natchez to
Jackson, Miss. It expired April 20. A god initial and a plain ring were
on his fingers. The latter could not be gotten off owing to the size the
finger had swollen.
Major Bigstaff
President of the Bridge Company, Talks
of the Affair
Major Samuel Bigstaff, President of the company
building the new bridge, was seen last evening at his residence at Fourth
street and Washington avenue, Newport.
He knew nothing of the accident until informed about
it two hours after the occurrence. Major Bigstaff said, “The name of the
firm doing this construction is the Kenton and Campbell County Bridge
Company. The estimated cost of the bridge, when finished, was about
$175,000. The King Bridge Company of Cleveland, who had the contract for
the building of the new bridge between Cincinnati and Newport, also had
charge here. They in turn sublet the contract for the spans and iron work
tot he Baird Bros., who had their headquarters in Pittsburg.
The Baird Brothers were known all over the country,
and I might say all oer the world, for their excellent works. Bridge
builders will feel their loss keenly, as their services were required for
most of the intricate and important bridge building in this country. They
built the spans for the Memphis Bridge and many others of the kind. I
estimate the loss in money by this accident at about $25,000, which,
however, I consider trivial as compared with the loss of life. As to the
cause of the accident, I am not prepared to speak positively. I heard a
few days since that Inspector Wilson, of the King Bridge Company warned
the Baird Brothers that the false structure of the affair was unsafe.
Whether any attempt to remedy the defect was made I do not know. The
chief engineer is Epes Randolph, who has as his assistant J. A. Stewart,
of Cincinnati.
Chief Deitsch Asists
He Sends Two Patrol Wagons To The Scene
A few minutes after the accident it was reported at
police headquarters in Cincinnati. Chief Deitsch called up chief of
Police Goodson and offered him any assistance. Chief Goodson replied that
he could use two patrol wagons. Patrols 1 and 2 were given a “hurry” call
and were soon on the scene.
Patrol 1 went to Covington and the Twos went to
Newport. The experience of the Cincinnati officers in hauling dead and
injured made their services valuable. As soon as they arrived on the
scene, stretchers were pulled out, and nearly all the dead and injured
were cared for by the Cincinnati wagons.
Coroner Davis, of Newport, desires through the
Enquirer the sincerest thanks to the citizens of [Cincinnati] and himself
to Chief Deitsch or sending patrol wagons, and a corps of men to aid the
authorities of Newport. He also desires to thank the officers on the
wagons for their splendid work.
Grief
At a Laborer’s Cottage, Where a Pleasure Trip Was
Planned
At no place did the horrible disaster cause
more grief and consternation than at John Phillips little cottage, 427
Hodge Street, Newport. Phillips kissed his wife and children goodbye in
the morning and went to work as usual.
They had planned a pleasure trip to Cincinnati in
the afternoon, and Phillips was to ”knock off” at 3 o’clock to cross the
river with them. A few minutes after the bridge fell four men carried him
home on a litter. He was met at the gate by his frightened children, and
tried to quiet their cries by saying he was not badly hurt.
“We won’t go to Cincinnati today, babies,” he said,
trying to smile, “but we’ll try to go tomorrow.”
One of his legs – the left one – was broken in three
places below the knee, a long gash was cut over his eye and he was
probably fatally hurt internally. Drs. Thomas and Pythian did all they
could [to] alleviate his pain and lessen the danger to his life.
It is hardly possible that he will ever make the
pleasure trip with them. He had an internal hemorrhage which passed from
him congealed blood, and his entrails are supposed to be torn. The bone
of his leg is literally smashed: the leg may mortify.
Looking For Papa
The Sad News Received
By a Boy Carrying His Father’s and Uncle’s Dinner
Standing near one of the big doors leading into the
mill, and a few feet from the patrol wagon was a boy about 7 years old.
In one hand he carried a bucket of coffee and in the other a basket of
lunch.
He was crying, and in his attempt to dry his eyes
with the hand that carried the bucket he spilled the coffee all over his
white waist.
Jack Donnelly, the big hearted driver of Patrol No 1
saw the lad, and, calling him over, asked what was the matter. The little
fellow, between sobs that were breaking his heart, said he had come down
with dinner for his father and uncle, but he could not find them.
It was true. The little fellow could not find his
father or his uncle for they were buried in the wreck. They were William
and John Roby. When the little fellow was told that they were both dead
he started for home to carry the sad news to his mother. But he never
parted with his papa’s lunch and coffee.
Came Here To Die
Two New comers on the
Bridge Mortally Crushed in the Wreck
A week ago yesterday Harry Obsorn, a young Englishman
direct from London came to this country to make a fortune building
bridges. He came to Cincinnati to work for the Baird Bros.
He was stationed on one of the bridge stringers when
the crash came and he fell amid the flying timbers and iron supporters. A
heavy bar fell across his shoulders and forced him under the water. He
floated to the surface bleeding and half dead, and was going under a
second time when Charles Wilkenson, one of the other workmen, caught him,
and towed him to shore. The back of his skull was crushed and his face
bathed in the blood that flowed from other wounds on his head. He was
carried up on the Newport bank and put in a Cincinnati ambulance, which
took him to the Good Samaritan hospital. He was still alive last night,
but not expected to recover..
One of the victims, James J. Johnson, was on the
bridge by the merest accident. He and his brother, Albert, left Harve de
Grace, Md., to work on a bridge built at Hanover, Va., by the Baird
brothers. In an accident there, both were injured. Albert’s skull was
fractured and he became a lunatic.
The sound-minded brother instituted suit against the
contractors for $10,000 damages. He came to Cincinnati yesterday and went
to the bridge to see an acquaintance at work on it. He was on the
structure when it fell, and was crushed to death between two iron
girders.
Four Companions
Together They Lived,
Together They Died
On Patrol 1 that carried a dead body to the Morgue,
was a coatless young man who was crying bitterly. He was Billy Riddle,
who was at work on the “nigger head” when the work went down. He had
charge of the engine on the pier, and was watching the men set an iron
girder when the trestle gave away.
He ran down to the bank and reached there just in
time to see Bruce Thomas come up. He grabbed him and pulled him out.
When Thomas reached ground, he said “Well, Billy, this ends bridging with
me.” In a few minutes he was at work searching for bodies.
Thomas had a very remarkable escape. He was at work
in a swinging scaffold, and when the wreck took place he escaped with a
few bruises and a sprained ankle. Riddle’s tears, however, were for
others.
Like every gang of men, there are certain cliques or
gangs of men. Riddle’s friends were Charlie Puffenbaugh, Tom Downey,
Harry Osborn and Ben Arnold. They all ran together and were intimate.
All were killed save Riddle. Hence his tears.
He Jumped
From the Top of the
Traveler and Escaped – James Caldwell was Lucky
Dan Binkley, of Newport, had a fall in the accident
that he will not forget the balance of his days. He was on top of the
traveler at the time and fell with it, the fall being nearly 100 feet. His
ace was badly bruised and he was otherwise stove up.
James Caldwell, of Persimmon Grove, Campbell County,
Ky., was lucky enough to go after a bucket of water but only a few minutes
before the accident occurred. He was on his way back when the entire
thing gave.
On Licking’s Banks
Thousands Watch All Day For the Water
to Give Up Its Dead
All day yesterday and up to a late hour last night
the river banks of the vicinity or the accident were crossed with people
who were anxious to get a glimpse of every body that was brought out, and
to view the wreck. All night long men in skiffs patrolled the river in
the vicinity of the accident in search of the missing bodies.
When the crash came, a boat containing three ladies
and one gentleman narrowly escaped being caught by the falling timber.
One man who fell from the bridge floated down the river below the Licking
Rolling mill, when he disappeared. It is thought that when the timber and
iron are removed that there will be other bodies found. An active search
will be kept up today for the rest of the missing bodies.
Their Lives Insured
The Dead Men’s Families and Relatives
Generally Well Cared For
All of the men employed on the bridge were insured
for $1,500, or at least that has been the common custom of the bridge
company to insure all of their employees for $1,500 in case of an
accident.
It is not known how many of the employees were
insured, as a number of them had only been in the employ of the company a
short time. This will be of some comfort to the bereaved families.
Three wounded men were taken to William Parmalee’s
boarding house, No. 419 Eleventh street, Newport – John Murray, whose
scalp was laid open and one of his ears almost torn off; Ben Arnold, with
a dislocated shoulder, and Thomas Lavender, of Covington, whose head was
badly cut and lip split open. Arnold and Murray live in Newport, and
Lavender boards at 153 Third street, Covington. All three men are
unmarried.
Incidents
Sid Barnes, of Covington, was to have been at work
yesterday, but he did not get up in time.
Wm. Spaulding quit work about an hour before the
accident occurred.
There was considerable indignation about the action
of the Newport patrol officers. Chief of Police Cottingham notified the
wagon to go to the accident, but they refused to remove a wounded man
until there was some show to get money for their services. There was
quite a discussion about the matter, and later in the day the patrol wagon
rendered some good service. Superintendent Phillips was not in the city.
Drs. J. L and C. T. Pythian, Dr. Brown, Dr.
Ratchford, Dr. Higins, and Dr Humboldt were at work on the Newport side,
and Drs. Wise, Mallory and Thomas on the Covington side.
Edward A. Nolan, of Newport, was a “con man,” and
when the crash came he jumped from the traveler into the river, and struck
a barge that was moored at the Newport landing. Nolan came from Erie,
PA., about three years ago.
Andy Kobinger was at the hospital yesterday
afternoon to see how the injured were getting along. He was still pale
from his narrow escape. Kobinger was at work on the traveler and had just
stopped on the pier for some tools when the works went down.
A Canadian, known as “Shampoo,” who was one of the
fatally injured, worked on the big cantilever bridge at Memphis, and had a
narrow escape from drowning in a caisson there.
Chief Cottingham and the entire police force were
soon upon the scene, and was Sheriff Betz and his deputies, Julius Plummer
and Louis Betz. They did excellent work in keeping back the crowd.
Coroner David of Newport, will begin the gigantic
task of holding his inquests today. It is hardly probable that any
witnesses can be obtained before 2 o’clock, and it will hardly be finished
before next week
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