About Connections: Love it or hate it, history is a map. Those who hate history think it irrelevant; many who love history think it escapism. In truth, history is the clearest road map to how we got here: America in the 21st Century.
In any age, our heroes define not what we are but what we aspire to be. Today movie, television and video game heroes seem to be shoot-it-up, blow-it-up supermen. This is a quieter story about ordinary men and women who, faced with a crisis, stepped up. People roused from their beds who were brave and generous and did their best to save the day.
Thursday, March 5, 1868 was an odd day for Phinheas Allen. He believed the task he set for himself was equivalent to writing his own obituary.
In the early morning hours of Wednesday, March 4, 1868 the night watchman employed by W. M. Root to guard the Root Block on North Street, Pittsfield, saw smoke. The Root Block housed the United States Post Office, Joseph Gregory’s Clothing Store, the Oliver Root Boot and Shoe Store, W. M. Root’s Silver and Jewelry Store, the Berkshire Life Insurance Company, the dental office of Dr. Clark Hall, the medical office of Dr. F. A. Cady, dressmaker Miss Rosa Hatch, tailor Joseph Gregory, tobacconist Theron Streeter, the dwelling of J. D. Kennedy, and Phinheas Allen’s beloved Sun Printing Office and Book Store.
Phinheas Allen arrived in Pittsfield in 1800. Allen had apprenticed at a newspaper, the Hampshire Gazette, and at 24 years old, was confident he could establish his own newspaper. He called it the Pittsfield Sun. The commitment to objectivity associated with the modern journalism was not felt in 1800. Allen loudly and proudly proclaimed the Sun to be the voice of the Democratic Party. Now after more than 60 years, he sat to write what might be the newspaper’s last edition.
March 5, 1868, under the headline, “Destructive Fire in Pittsfield,” Allen wrote of the complete destruction of the Sun offices. “Today, for the first time in more than sixty-seven years, the Pittsfield Sun does not appear precisely on the date announced…and some of our subscribers may fail to receive their papers this week.”
It was just after 2 a.m. in the bitter cold that the watchman roused Mr. Kennedy, who barely had time to escape, and sounded the alarm. When the firemen arrived, they found that the water in the hydrant closest to Root Block was frozen solid. The next closest hydrant was absolutely dry.
While firemen scrambled to melt frozen water and search as far as Park Square to find a full tank, fire licked the walls and ignited the roof. It was a long time before a stream of water hit the flames. It seemed certain the Block would be a total loss; all the businesses burned out; personal investments and life savings up in smoke. Fear that every building from Park to School Street would soon ignite swept through the fire fighters and the crowd of on-lookers.
The article Allen wrote on the morning of March 5th told of damage estimated at $75,000, almost two million in today’s dollars, and the biggest fire in Berkshire history.
Yet…on that frigid morning with flames the only light, the citizens of Pittsfield did not stand idly by. When Allen went to press, the story was one of tragedy and triumph, sorrow and gratitude.
The firemen did not take a break. More and more citizens woke to the news and came forward to volunteer. They manned the hoses and produced a steady stream of water for no less than four hours. The Herculean effort limited the damage to the Root block.
Col. Robert Pomeroy and Mrs. Edwin Clapp arranged refreshments and gallons of hot coffee for everyone who came to help. Pittsfield men and women formed squads and braved the flames. They went in and out of the burning building successfully removing most of Mr. Root’s stock of jewelry, all of the mail from the post office, small safes from more than one office. As dawn broke and the fire smoldered and died, the 500-hundred pound safe from the Berkshire Life Insurance office was dragged to safety.
Firemen and volunteers had rescued the cash savings and valuables of their neighbors. As the sun rose, businesses untouched by the tragedy opened their doors to those afflicted. The post office was lent space in the Berkshire Block on West Street beside the Merchant’s Union Express office, and actually opened for business close to the regular hour. The Old Western Massachusetts Insurance Office welcomed its competitor, Berkshire Life, into their offices. Messrs. Chickering, Axtell, and Durkee of the Pittsfield Evening Eagle with “careful and practiced hands” removed all the type and printing material from the Pittsfield Sun office.
The men of the Eagle composed and delivered the following message: “To P. Allen, Esq.: We take the earliest opportunity to tender to you any facilities we have in our office to enable you to go on with your printing business, and to get out your paper. Please make free to occupy our rooms and use such material and facilities in our office that you need. With sympathy for you in your misfortune, and congratulating you that everything was not destroyed, we remain very truly yours”.
On the front page of the Sun, printed at the Eagle office, Allen replied, “We are personally under obligation…acknowledge gratefully the fraternal courtesies which [the Eagle] offered.”
After all Allen was not forced to write the obituary of the Sun. The Sun was published in Pittsfield continuously for 106 years from 1800 – 1906.
Just two months after the fire, in May 1868, Phinheas died, but not before witnessing the generous heart of Berkshire. In adversity all competition was suspended, and the city was filled only with brave citizens, good and generous neighbors.
