st. paul f a history - extra alarm › stphistsample2.pdfin 1981, and this book, st. paul fire - a...

ST. PAUL FIRE

A HISTORY

1856 - 1994

text byRichard L. Heath

graphical design and photo text by David B. Freedman

photographic research byCapt. Paul R. Barrett, StPFD

maps bySteve Skaar

Published by

The Extra Alarm Associationof the Twin Cities, Inc.Minneapolis, Minnesota 1998

Copyright© 1998, The Extra Alarm Association of the Twin Cities, Inc. 4340 17th AvenueSouth, Minneapolis, Minnesota 55407.

World rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Nopart of this publication may stored in a retrieval system, transmitted, or reproduced in anyway, including but not limited to photocopy, photograph, magnetic or other record, withoutthe prior agreement and written permission of the Extra Alarm Association of the TwinCities, Inc., except for brief quotations to be used for editorial reviews of this document.

http://www.visi.com/community/eaatcemail [email protected]

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 98-60435

ISBN 0-9663530-0-5

Manufactured in the United States of America

Printed and bound by:The University of Minnesota Printing Services2818 Como Avenue SEMinneapolis, Minnesota 55141

First printing: April 1998

RICHARD L. �DICK� HEATH passed away March 5, 1998. He was theauthor of MILL CITY FIREFIGHTERS - The First Hundred Years, publishedin 1981, and this book, ST. PAUL FIRE - A HISTORY, 1856 - 1994.

Dick formerly was a professor of history at Ohio State University in the1960�s. He was a member of the City of Minneapolis Planning Departmentfor 27 years. He served on the Minneapolis Fire Department Safety Commit-tee, was a member of the former Minneapolis Fire Reserve, and a chartermember of the Firefighters Memorial Museum.

Dick was also the unofficial historian of the Minneapolis Fire Depart-ment, having been a fire buff since early childhood, as were his father Donaldand his brother Willard. Dick was a member of the former Box 35 Club ofMinneapolis and a charter member of the Extra Alarm Association of theTwin Cities, founded in 1974. Dick had several articles published in FireEngineering Magazine, and in Minnesota History, all dealing with variousaspects of the fire service. Dick also wrote a column, �Historic MinneapolisFires - A Continuing Chronology� for the club newsletter, The Extra Alarmer,and a historical column for The Deluge, the monthly newsletter of Minne-apolis Firefighters Local 82, IAFF. He spent many hours since retiring fromthe City of Minneapolis researching and writing the manuscript for thisbook.

We will fondly remember how he often shared his vivid recollections ofthe lumber yard, warehouse and wooden grain elevator fires of years past.His memory of the smallest detail of events at or surrounding fires longsince forgotten by others will never be equalled.

Dick unfortunately passed away before being able to see this text cometo its final completion. We can only hope we have done justice to his finewords by bringing them to life with the photographs and annotations inthis book.

Dick�s friendship, and his interest and efforts to preserve and record thehistory of the fire service will be forever missed by us all.

IN MEMORIAM

RICHARD L. HEATH

1931 -1998

i

ContentsIntroduction ...................................................................................................................... I

Chapter 1 - Pioneers, 1856 - 1877 ................................................................................. 1

Chapter 2 - Minute Men, 1877 - 1883 ......................................................................... 15

Chapter 3 - Shaping Up -- Moving Out, 1883-1889 .................................................. 25

Chapter 4 - Pulling Back -- Politics, 1889-1901 ....................................................... 39

Chapter 5 - Build Up -- Action, 1901-1909................................................................. 53

Chapter 6 - Reforming -- Rearming, 1909-1924 ....................................................... 63

Chapter 7 - Marking Time -- New Quarters, 1924-1934 ......................................... 93

Chapter 8 - Hard Times -- Hard Duty, 1934-1949 .................................................. 109

Chapter 9 - Rebuilding -- Expanding -- Falling Behind, 1949-1966 .................. 133

Color Plates .................................................................................................................. 165

Chapter 10 - New Methods -- New Missions, 1966-1978 ....................................... 175

Chapter 11 - Old Issues -- New Troubles, 1978-1990............................................. 199

Chapter 12 - A Never-Ending Mission, 1990-1994 ................................................. 223

Roll of Honor ................................................................................................................ 233

Appendix A - Costs and Benefits.............................................................................. 241

Appendix B - Salaries, 1884-1990.............................................................................. 249

Appendix C - Facts and Figures............................................................................... 253

Appendix D - Stray Blows.......................................................................................... 257

Appendix E - Companies & Stations ....................................................................... 263

Appendix F - Apparatus Notes ................................................................................. 281

Appendix G - Horse-Drawn Apparatus .................................................................. 285

Appendix H - Motor Apparatus ................................................................................ 295

Bibliographical Note .................................................................................................. 315

Afterword ...................................................................................................................... 317

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St. Paul Fire - A History

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St. Paul Fire Department - January 1924

Station Address Built Eng Lad Sqd Other

1 9th and Main Street 1887 1 12 Wacouta between 6th and 7th 1922 2-4 83 Ramsey and Leech 1872 35 Selby and Mackubin 1882 5 36 Delos and Clinton 1884 6 5 Chief 47 Ross and Earl 1885 78 8th and Minnesota 1885 8 2 1 �WT, *�9 Edmund and Marion 1885 910 Randolph and Bay 1885 10 1111 Beaumont and Bedford 1890 11 Chief 313 Hampden and Raymond 1895 1314 Snelling and Ashland 1910 14 1015 Livingston and Fairfield 1901 1517 Payne and York 1886 1718 University and St. Albans 1908 18 9 2 Chief 219 Maple and Conway 1888 19 720 University and Vandalia 1920 20-12 6 Chief 521 Ohio and Baker 1911 2122 Front and Matilda 1887 2223 Asbury and Taylor 1887 2324 East 7th Street and Flandrau 1918 24

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Chapter 7, 1924-1934

Chapter 7

MARKING TIME - NEW QUARTERS

1924 - 1934

The decade of the 1920s brought continued growth to St. Paul. An outwardlyprosperous national and regional

economy fostered industrial, commercial, andparticularly, downtown officedevelopment. The city�s popu-lation grew faster than in theprevious decade, adding37,000 residents to reach a to-tal of 271,606 in 1930. Wide-spread automobile ownershipopened many tracts beyondthe reach of transit lines toresidential development, fill-ing in blocks and lots betweenlines near the city center aswell as outlying subdivisions.

Although the city�s 1887boundaries still encompassedlarge tracts of vacant land inits southeast and southwestsections (nearly half the city�sarea), apartment constructionsheltered a growing proportionof the city�s population asdowntown office employment attracted young,single, transit-dependent residents from amulti-state region. Completion of a new hy-dro-electric power dam on the Mississippi Riverin 1917 and a large, nearby automobile assem-bly plant in 1924 spurred growth in the High-land Park district. Downtown, high-rise officestructures created a new skyline, topped by the

31-story First National Bank, one 18-story,three 16-story, and eight 10 to 15-story build-ings. Three miles west of downtown, Mont-gomery-Ward built a retail and mail order com-

plex so large that specialfirefighting procedures had tobe spelled out for it.

Municipal government inSt. Paul and other cities re-flected a national temper nolonger imbued with Progres-sive ideals of reform and pub-lic activism. The post-WorldWar I �return to normalcy� cel-ebrated the public benefits ofprivate economic prosperity,and restraint by governmentssaid to govern best by govern-ing least. The reaction had itsdark overtones, from the ex-cesses of the post-war �RedScare� and the weakening oforganized labor to rampantracism and ethnic intoleranceas bad as in all the sorry record

of post-Civil War America. National prohibi-tion seemed to foster more crime and social dis-order than social benefit. Industrial prosper-ity masked a deepening agricultural depres-sion throughout the decade, declining basic in-vestment, over-production, wasteful mergers,and speculative excess that would culminatein the great Crash of 1929.

Chief of Department 1924-1934Owen C. Dunn.

St. Paul Pioneer Press

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The Craig Oil Co. fire of May 19, 1924 (described in the previ-ous chapter) at Morrison and Eaton Sts.

Minnesota Historical Society

In St. Paul as in most other cities, the re-treat from public reform and activism meantalso declining investment in municipal ser-vices. The expensive technological revolutionin services of the 1910s and early 1920s (cul-minating in St. Paul with major improvementsin the supply and purity of water in 1924)seemed to leave little more to be accomplished.Voters welcomed a respite from tax increases,supporting candidates who promised a frugal,caretaker government content to maintain ex-isting levels of service. Little thought wasgiven to the inevi-table deteriora-tion of municipalinfrastructure orthe need to investin the city�s long-term future. Cityplanning, a newdiscipline andfunction thatprospered in theProgressive era,found meager po-litical support forits visionaryplans as munici-palities concen-trated on day-to-day, market-ori-ented regulatorycontrols such aszoning. Towardthe end of the decade, St. Paul citizens wouldinitiate a remarkable exception to these trends,but for most of these years, municipal services,including the fire department, marked time.

A conservative, caretaker government in St.Paul meant one under increasing control byRichard T. O�Connor�s Democratic organiza-tion. After its setback in 1920, the organiza-tion gained new strength from a growing align-ment with labor interests that added support-ers to the traditionally strong Democratic voterbase in St. Paul. Mayor A.E. Nelson won re-election in 1924. He appointed James M.Clancy, a labor candidate and commissionersince 1918, as Public Safety Commissioner.Clancy at once replaced Chief Niles withformer Assistant Chief Owen C. Dunn. Oscar

Lander, a captain with 26 years on the depart-ment, became assistant chief.

Clancy and his police department wouldachieve notoriety over the next 10 years fortheir unspoken policy of allowing criminals safehaven in St. Paul in return for their promiseto commit crimes elsewhere. The practice haddeeper roots in St. Paul government. Knownas the �O�Connor system�, it dated from JohnO�Connor�s terms as police chief. The policyhad little effect on the fire department, to which

Clancy paid scantattention. In1925, he securedCity approval toappoint a DeputyPublic SafetyCommissioner,former firefighterand City licenseinspector HarryT. O�Connell, whorelieved Clancy ofdirect adminis-trative responsi-bility for thefirefighting force.O�Connell, deeplyinvolved in laborpolitics, was Lo-cal 21�s secretary-treasurer andhad been the

union�s first president after serving as the Pro-tective Association president during its cam-paign for two-platoons. The fire departmentremained for a decade close to the City�s rul-ing political factions, enjoying an unusual con-tinuity in command and some improvementsin firefighter benefits within budgets severelylimited by City frugality and city charterspending limits.

The choice of Owen Dunn for chief waspopular with firefighters. Fifty-four years oldand a 32-year veteran of the fire department,he was a �fireman�s fireman�. He had joinedthe department soon after moving to St. Paulfrom Wisconsin in late 1891. Promoted to lieu-tenant of Engine 8 in 1906 and Captain of Lad-der 8 in 1913, he became a district chief

95

Chapter 7, 1924-1934

through the civil service process in 1918 andassistant chief in 1920. He was (appropriatelyfor his fireman�s image) a state checkers cham-pion and handball enthusiast, as well as anactive member of the Knights of Columbus andLoyal Order of Moose. A bachelor, he lived andbreathed firefighting. Although he maintainedan address at his sister�s house, he spent mostof his time as chief on duty, maintaining a one-room apartment at headquarters and respond-ing to almost every working fire. His adminis-trative style had little place for policy or orga-nizational initiatives: he would run the firedepartment by the book as a traditionalfirefighting force.

As a charter member of Local 21, backedup by a deputy public safety commissioner closeto City elected officials, Chief Dunn could alsobe expected to keep the interests of firefightersforemost. Among his first acts as chief in 1924was to grant firefighters one day (i.e., one shift)off every two weeks for a 78-hour week. In1925, Dunn secured City approval for new pro-motional lines and grades in the firefightingforce. Lieutenants, who performed the sameduties as captains on opposite shifts with lesspay, were reclassified as captains in January,1925, and the lieutenant�s position was elimi-nated. Motor pumper drivers became engi-neers, other drivers, chauffeurs. The positionof assistant engineer (stoker) was deleted asno longer needed. The single classification offirefighter replaced separate pipemen andladdermen. Firefighters could take the ex-amination for captain only after four years ofservice. Candidates for district chief had tohave at least 15 years of service, four of themas captain. Modest annual wage increases forall grades, which had halted after 1920, re-sumed. At the same time, firefighters receivedfive more days of vacation in 1927 for a total of20 days per year.

In other respects, Dunn was less success-ful in securing needed fire department im-provements. He started his term with a de-partment budget of $870,000, the smallest insome years. A $45,500 increase in 1925 waslargely absorbed by new pay grades. From thenon, despite a steady increase in the city�s as-sessed values, the fire department budget

stalled at a figure insufficient to provide payraises after 1926, to add companies or appara-tus, or even to maintain company strength.The total force dropped by 10 men to 461 in1925, to 454 in 1926, back to 461 in 1927, thendown again to 452 in 1928. Average companymanning fell to four to six men per engine com-pany, five to seven per ladder company, wellbelow underwriter standards.

New companies and apparatus were alsoneeded. Motorization had occurred in a hasty,sometimes stop-gap manner. The firstWaterous motor pumpers proved unreliable forlong-term service. Three engine companies ranwith hose wagons rather than pumpers, andone ran with a chemical engine. The fivetractorized steam fire engines were not onlyless efficient, but had boilers and pumps from16 to 40 years old; although periodically re-built, they could not be expected to last muchlonger. The department had no reserve pump-ers or ladder trucks, forcing a company to runwith a hose wagon or go out of service when itsrig needed repair. New, auto-oriented subdi-visions in Highland Park and on the city�snorthern and eastern borders lay beyond easyreach of even motor apparatus.

The 1925 budget permitted purchase of onlyone large pumper for downtown service. Alease-purchase arrangement was used to se-cure another pumper for reserve use and abooster and hose rig to replace the chemicalengine at Station 24. From then on, no newapparatus was purchased for six years. ChiefDunn and his master mechanic regularly re-quested additional pumpers to replace hosewagons and the five steam fire engines, addedladder trucks to provide a reserve rig and re-place Ladder 8, new squad wagons, and afoamite rig to fight oil fires. Just as regularly,they were turned down in the City budget pro-cess. The repair shop struggled in its crampedquarters to keep older rigs running, and to re-place the clumsy hard rubber tires found onmany rigs with balloon tires. Two of the steam-ers, at Engines 2 and 12, had their responsedistricts limited to their immediate vicinity,remaining in quarters on most alarms to main-tain coverage of their high-hazard districts, butthree others remained as active as the motor

96


pumpers. By 1930, St. Paul was among thefew cities in the country to have steamersstill in first-line service.

Inspectors of the National Board of FireUnderwriters visited St. Paul again in 1925.They gave high marks to Chief Dunn, poorscores to the fire department. In addition toits undermanned companies and obsolete ap-paratus, the inspectors found its fire alarmsystem little improved since the sharp criti-cisms of their last visit. Stations were poorlylocated to cover new outlying development.Chief Dunn used their recommendations toconvince the City to purchase two new firestation sites. The first, acquired in 1925 atOtto and Underwood (present HighlandParkway and Snelling) would protect thearea around the new Ford assembly plant.The other, purchased in 1926 at Payne andHawthorne Avenues, would permit movingEngine 17 further north. No funds were pro-vided, however, for construction of new sta-tions or for companies to man them. Cover-age of developing areas in the southwestquadrant of the city and ladder response tothe far east side also remained inadequate.

Chief Dunn had to be content with mar-ginal improvements that placed little bur-den on City budgets. In 1926, he organizedan Arson Squad, based on methods pioneeredin Detroit. The next year, he secured au-thority to appoint two additional districtchiefs to cover downtown, relieving the as-sistant chief of day-to-day responsibility forcompanies in the district. His efforts to se-cure a drill tower and classroom for train-ing, however, found no City support in suc-cessive annual budget reviews. In their ab-sence, Dunn did little to improve training,with two notable exceptions. In 1927, hebegan �service ratings� for firefighters, scor-ing them on their efficiency. In 1929, Dunnsecured Red Cross assistance in training 99firefighters in first aid, 34 of them to the ad-vanced level. From this modest start datesthe fire department�s role in providing emer-gency medical services, now a primary de-partmental function. By 1930, the depart-ment numbered 177 medical emergenciesamong its record 4,279 runs.

Dunn also acquiesced in the continuingtrend toward using telephones as the pre-ferred method for calling additional compa-nies to a fire. Although telegraph keys inboxes were still occasionally used to strike a2-11 or 4-11, most extra alarms were nowverbal or telegraphic �special calls� for a re-sponse specified by the chief in command ata fire: for example, two more engines and atruck, or four more engines, or whatever thechief needed. The change paralleled the wideuse of telephones by the public for initialalarms (only one in 18 alarms now came fromalarm boxes), but also reflected growing ob-solescence in the telegraph system, which by1929 required telephone follow-up to all sta-tions on box alarms to assure that gong sig-nals had been received. Chief Dunn proposedtelephones in alarm boxes for fire depart-ment use, but this failed to survive the City�sbudget scrutiny. He also had little successin following up on underwriter recommen-dations for a new alarm headquarters in aseparate, fireproof building.

Another trend of the late 1920s cast nocredit on the fire department, its officers, andthe municipal administration. Blackfirefighters, a proud component of thefirefighting force since 1885, came under in-creasing racist pressure that steadily dimin-ished their numbers on the department. Theprocess is not well documented, but it prob-ably involved personal harassment, morevindictive application of the rule book, andincreasingly biased selection standards in re-cruiting and testing. Additional blackfirefighters had been recruited to man En-gine 22 when it replaced Supply Hose 5 in1912, and to provide two-platoons to main-tain the segregated company in 1918. WhenEngine 22 received a motor hose wagon in1923, the crew was larger than needed forthe rig. The black firefighters were movedas a unit to Engine 9, where they manned anew motor pumper. By 1927, however, theirnumbers had diminished to less than a fullpumper crew. The hose wagon at Engine 22was moved to Engine 9, whose black crewcame to expect collective harassment suchas grubby, all-night details on dump and peatbog fires out of their district.

97

Chapter 7, 1924-1934

Despite its shortcomings, the fire depart-ment maintained a good firefighting recordagainst major commercial and industrial

blazes. A 6 PM fire on February 26, 1925,swept through the large-area, one-and-one-halfstory St. Paul Foundry at Como Avenue andMackubin Street. A 4-11 response held flamesto the plant at the cost of cold work in sub-zeroweather and one fire captain injured by fall-ing debris. A few hours later, at 1:45 AM onFebruary 27, companies arriving at theKendrick Block at 27 East 7th Street found theold, four-story structure fully involved. Theyrescued several persons from upper floors asthe building belched smoke, then erupted inflames. Ten engines, four trucks, the twosquads, and the water tower set up heavystreams, covered exposures on each side, andprotected nearby roofs against showers ofsparks carried on a strong northwest wind.The building burned to a collapsing shell inless than an hour.

Two fires in April, 1925, demonstrated anew hazard in the Midway district that wouldgive St. Paul firefighters some of their worstfires over the next three decades. The WaldorfPaper Company plant, built on the former siteof the Northern Insulating Company atWabash and Vandalia, processed waste paperinto new paper and cardboard. At 11:43 AMon April 1, flames swept across its quarter-

block storage yard of baled waste paper, giv-ing a special alarm response of firefighters along afternoon and night of work trying to

douse the flaming heaps of bales.Smoldering fire burrowing deep in thepaper piles broke out again on April13 at 12:38 AM, this time sweepinginto a large, one-story frame storageshed and destroying it despite the ef-forts of firefighters summoned on twospecial alarms. Yet another Midwayblaze on June 4, 1926, burned out thetop floor and roof of the LaSalle Com-pany, wholesale druggist, at 2218University Avenue. The smoky 7:11AM fire, punctuated by minor explo-sions, took five hours to control andcaused high loss.

A far more threatening blaze, thelargest of the decade, broke out at 5:47PM on January 17, 1927, in theUnited States Bedding Company on

The all black crew in front of an Ahrens-Fox at Station 9, circa1924-27.

StPFD

The Kendrick Block fire of February 27, 1925.Ladder 2�s 1916 Seagrave/American LaFranceaerial is in front of the building.


98


Minnehaha between Arundel and Western av-enues. The plant occupied a huge, two-storybrick structure a block-and-a-half long and 200-feet deep. Flames starting in machinery andfueled by lint, cotton scraps, and a very heavyfire load spread so rapidly that within fiveminutes of the first alarm the bedding com-pany was totally involved. The blaze soonspread into the equally hazardous Northwood

Sounding Board Company in the west end ofthe structure. A strong northwest wind blewflames horizontally across Minnehaha to setfire to 14 house fronts, and spread sparks thatset roof fires in 50 dwellings and a church spireover a four-block area downwind.

A 4-11 and special calls brought 10 engines,four trucks, two squads, two hose wagons, achemical engine, and off-shift crews thatdoused all exposure fires and prevented a gen-eral conflagration, but loss totaled $359,750,worst since the Cold Storage warehouse fire of1900. While all companies still worked on theblaze, a 7:28 PM basement fire at 25 East 6thStreet required a special alarm, to which somerecalled off-shift firefighters at downtown sta-tions had to respond on foot in the absence of

reserve apparatus. The department answereda total of 39 alarms in a 24-hour period, thebusiest day yet recorded.

Arson was suspected on June 27, 1927,when two fires broke out simultaneously in theMidwest Chemical Company at 2290 Wycliffand the Phoenix Chair Company, a block-and-a-half away at Wycliff and Bradford. Flames

from both fires spread to a cooperageplant on Wycliff and a sawdust andshavings warehouse at 2343Hampden. Three special calls afterthe 5:01 AM first alarm, each for fourengines and a ladder truck, brought15 engines, four trucks, and twosquads to fight flames over a two-block area as all four plants (one two-story brick and three one-story framestructures) burned to the ground.

Another spectacular blaze in 1927destroyed the �A� mill of the St. PaulMilling Company, located on the riverat the foot of Chestnut Street. Whenfirefighters arrived on a 6:58 PMalarm on September 25, the five-storyframe, 150-foot-long structurespouted flames from its roof and allfloors. The flour mill burned to theground in an hour and a half as com-panies responding on several specialcalls successfully protected an adja-cent one-story warehouse and a grain

elevator. On December 4, 1927, during a howl-ing blizzard, a hot, smoky blaze swept a two-story wing of the Minnesota Mining and Manu-facturing Company plant at Forest andFauquier. Firefighters responding on the firstalarm at 3:05 PM and on the three special callsthat followed worked until 7:30 PM before theblaze was controlled. Such fires helped drivethe year�s loss to a new record of $1,476,575.Another high loss resulted from a generatorexplosion at 2:19 PM on January 3, 1928, atthe High Bridge plant of the Northern StatesPower Company. The ensuing fire was quicklycontrolled by a special-alarm response offirefighters, but downtown power was cut offfor several hours.

Lawrence Hodgson returned to the mayor�s

New Station 17 opened in 1930 on the s.e. corner of PayneAve. and Hawthorne. It is shown here in the 1960�s

Steve Skaar

99

Chapter 7, 1924-1934

office in 1926. The ubiquitous editor, lobbyist,and perennial political candidate (who in lateryears would write a civic-gossip column for theSt. Paul Dispatch under his nickname of �LarryHo�) represented a Democratic organizationmore interested in maintaining its politicaladvantage through a comfortable status quothan in municipal progress. Among his firstacts was to halt further bond issues for publicimprovements in the name ofeconomy. A referendum in Septem-ber, 1927, to force bonding for a num-ber of public projects (including a newpublic safety headquarters building)failed by a large margin. When a lowvoter turnout re-elected Hodgson in1928, a Pioneer Press editorial sighedthat the voters had �... expressedtheir will that the almost neutralhand of government he has given thecity be continued. Mayor Hodgsonhas made a practice of attemptinglittle and risking nothing. Normalcyand drift are still popular policies inAmerican government.�

Already underway, however, wasa surprising grass-roots effort to de-velop and promote a remarkably am-bitious program of long-range publicimprovements for St. Paul. It origi-nated with civic, commercial andneighborhood groups largely outsidethe political process. In early Decem-ber 1927, 27 such organizations formed theUnited Improvement Council, charged withformulating a five-year improvement plan andproject priorities. The Council held innumer-able meetings and public hearings, interview-ing a wide variety of civic interests as well asCity departments. By August 2, 1928, it rec-onciled the work of its many committees andapproved a report to the commissioners of theCity and Ramsey County for presentation onAugust 7.

The report proposed no less than$15,577,000 of capital improvements (scaleddown from $26,000,000 of initial project re-quests), covering everything from deferredmaintenance and replacement of obsolete fa-cilities to economic development and city beau-

tification. The City would be asked to issue$7,577,000 in bonds, the County, $8,000,000.The United Improvement Council proposed sixmillion dollars for streets, including comple-tion of work already started on Kellogg Boule-vard downtown, construction of Johnson Park-way, Shepard Road, Warner Road, WheelockParkway, and South Lexington Boulevard, andimprovements to University Avenue, 3rd

Street, and East and West 7th streets. One-and-one-quarter million dollars were ear-marked for school construction, $875,000 forparks and playgrounds, and $500,000 for air-port improvements. Four million dollars wouldbuild a new St. Paul City Hall and RamseyCounty Court House. Other funds would in-clude improvements to the river terminal, anenlarged Civic Auditorium, a new public worksstorehouse and supply yard, sewer improve-ments, and upgrading of selected commercialintersections.

The Fire Department was slated to get thelion�s share of public safety investment:$850,000 for four new fire stations, a new pub-lic safety building to house fire and police head-quarters as well as Station 8, and a completely

Station 5 (shown here in the 1980�s) at the s.w. corner of AshlandAve. and Victoria St. housed Engine 5 and Ladder 3 when itopened in 1930 on the former site of Chemical 6. The twocompanies moved from their former quarters at Selby Ave. andMakubin St.

Steve Skaar

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new fire and police telegraph system. There isno evidence that Chief Dunn played a signifi-cant role with the United Improvement Coun-cil, but he had obviously presented fire depart-ment needs to it effectively. Underwriter con-cerns with station location and the fire alarmsystem, undoubtedly transmitted by Dunn,clearly influenced the Council�s recommenda-tions. Although the program by no means metall fire depart-ment needs, itpromised moreimprovementsthan most citiesenjoyed in an eraof municipal par-simony.

The UnitedI m p r o v e m e n tCouncil re-quested a No-vember 1928,referendum onthe City bond is-sue and askedRamsey Countycommissionersand their legisla-tive delegation toseek authority for the County bonds in the1929 state legislature. It then began a ma-jor voter educational campaign, sendingspeakers to any citizen group that invitedthem. By November 1928, the associationhad enrolled no less than 52 civic organiza-tions in support of its plan, which offeredbenefits wide enough to attract almost ev-ery interest. Parent-teacher associations, forexample, supported the proposed newschools, while organized labor enthusiasti-cally endorsed public works projects provid-ing so many added jobs. Political officialscould not resist the popular enthusiasm de-veloped by the United Improvement Coun-cil. Mayor Hodgson and several commission-ers became advocates for the bond issues. ANovember 6, 1928, referendum passed theCity bond issue by a very large margin of18,765 to 5,796. Approval of Ramsey Countybonds by the state legislature followed earlythe next year.

The City wasted little time in starting workon the program. It approved sale of its bondsin April 1929, and soon began construction onthe four new fire stations and public safetybuilding. Work was speeded by prior City own-ership of the four station sites. One at Payneand Hawthorne avenues, purchased in 1926,would move Engine 17 further north to reachnew development more easily. Another ac-

quired in 1925 atSnelling andOtto (now High-land Parkway)would protectHighland Parkand the new Fordassembly plant.The City stillowned the site ofEngine 16�s oldhouse at AshlandAvenue andVictoria Street; itwould permit anew station forEngine 5 andLadder 3 west oftheir old station.Demolition andreplacement of

Station 7 at Ross and Earl streets with a largerstation for Engine 7 and Ladder 7 would placeLadder 7 further east. The ladder�s old houseat Maple and Conway would be closed, and En-gine 19 transferred from it to the new High-land Park house. All four of the new stationsopened between August and November, 1930.They substantially improved fire departmentcoverage of growing residential areas near thecity�s limits.

The new Public Safety Building occupied afull half block on 10th Street between Minne-sota and Robert. An imposing, classic-style,three-story stone structure, it housed Engine8, Ladder 2, Squad 1, the Water Tower, Chief,Assistant Chief, and 1st and 4th District Chiefsin a large, seven-bay station on the corner of10th and Minnesota. The second floor held thestation dormitory, fire alarm headquarters, firedepartment offices, and living quarters forChief Dunn. The third floor included a large

Station 7 on Ross just west of Earl St. opened in 1930. A smallpolice precinct station was added on the west side of the sta-tion.


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classroom for training. The Robert Street sideof the structure held the headquarters, garage,and detention center of the Police Department.The Public Health Department also shared thebuilding. All departments occupied their newquarters on December 1, 1930.

Three days later, the new fire and policetelegraph system went in operation. It was as t a n d a r dG a m e w e l lmanual systemwith capacity for50 circuits, 30 toalarm boxes, 10each for primaryand secondarycircuits to firestations. It func-tioned much asthe old systembut greatly in-creased reliabil-ity with more cir-cuits, new equip-ment, and newbatteries. Thesystem finally re-stored two inde-pendent meansof telegraphiccommunicationwith fire sta-tions: a primary circuit to station bells andpunch registers, and a secondary circuit tolarge station gongs. New telephone switch-boards also permitted calling stations individu-ally, by group, or all simultaneously. Locationof alarm headquarters in the new, fireproofPublic Safety Building eased underwriter con-cerns about its safety from conflagration.

Gamewell also provided 380 new streetboxes, enough to replace 280 obsolete boxes andincrease total boxes to 439 over the next fewyears. Box alarms came in through headquar-ters relay boards to bells and punch registers,then were retransmitted to stations by manualtransmitters backed up by telegraph keys.Alarm procedures were much as before. Boxalarms were transmitted twice on station reg-isters, then twice on gongs. Multiple alarms

were also sounded twice on primary and sec-ondary circuits. �Still� alarms (received by tele-phone) were transmitted by telephone to allstations after two strokes on the primary cir-cuit, followed by two rounds of the box near-est the alarm�s location on the secondary gongs,then codes on the primary tappers for the com-panies responding. A special call for more com-panies was dispatched by telephone, preceded

by two strokes onboth the primaryand secondarycircuits.

New responsecards providedfive alarms tocommercial, in-dustrial, and in-stitutional haz-ards, four alarmsin residential ar-eas (a 4-11 nowdrew an addi-tional assignmentrather than acombined secondand 3rd alarm re-sponse). Still andbox alarms drewthe same assign-ment of three en-gines, two trucks,

and a squad in high hazard areas, two engines,a truck, and a squad for residential districts.Two operators manned fire alarm headquar-ters at all times.

The fire department accomplished yet onemore major improvement independent of theCity bond issue. In 1929, it completed refit-ting of all its fire hose with couplings usingnational standard screw threads. A measurelong advocated by the National Board of FireUnderwriters to facilitate cooperative workamong different fire departments, it allowedMinneapolis companies, for example, to layhose from St. Paul engines without adaptersand visa-versa. Hydrant and suction hosethreads, however, remained unique to St. Paul,requiring Minneapolis engines to use adapt-ers to hook up. Replacement of St. Paul hose

The new Public Safety Building at 101 E. 10th Street opened in1930. It housed Station 8 as well as Fire and Police Headquar-ters . The western half of the building (shown here) is Station 8.

Jack Mersereau

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couplings was accomplished entirely by St.Paul fire department personnel.

Total improvements completed and under-way were enough to win St. Paul first place inthe National Chamber of Commerce 1929 In-ter-Chamber Fire Waste Contest. NationalBoard of Fire Underwriter inspectors, who re-turned in the summer of 1930, must also havebeen impressed with such an ambitious effortto respond to their concerns. They made no

recommendations for additional or relocatedcompanies. The inspectors were less im-pressed with the state of St. Paul�s fire appa-ratus. Two steamers failed their pumpingtests. The five steamers in service accountedfor 41 per cent of total apparatus time in therepair shops. Underwriters wanted the Cityto replace them at once, as well as the threehose wagons in service as engine companiesand an obsolete, 26-year-old aerial truck atLadder 8.

With City budgets already feeling the ef-fect of the depression, however, Chief Dunn gotjust one new pumper in 1931. When an acci-dent wrecked Squad 1 in 1932, the shops as-sembled a replacement squad using a newchassis with body work and the chemical tankfrom the wrecked 1912 rig. The next year, therepair shop similarly put together a pumperby placing a new Waterous pump and the hosebody and chemical tank from a worn-out 1913hose wagon on a new chassis. The new pump-ers replaced the steamers at Engines 8 and 1,

but steamers still ran from Engines 2, 12, and15.

The underwriters also severely faulted firedepartment training. By 1932, Dunn hadfirefighters attending classes twice a month onequipment handling and first aid, with com-pany officers attending additional sessions onfirefighting methods. In the absence of a drilltower and full-time training staff, however,skill levels still fell short of modern standards.

This showed up in firefighting tactics.For its first attack lines St. Paul stillrelied on heavy 2-1/2 inch hoses thatwere hard to handle for interiorfirefighting and wasteful of water.

Underwriters also criticized thedepartment�s lack of heavy streamequipment. The numerous turretnozzles mounted on horse-drawn hosewagons in the early 1900s had notbeen reinstalled on motor rigs, leav-ing only the water tower and its deckgun, a turret on Hose 8, and three old�siamese� deluge sets in service. St.Paul firefighters attacked most ma-jor fires with 2-1/2 inch hand lines atclose quarters, often up ladders to

heavily involved upper floors, a hazardous andnot always effective tactic. Progress here wasconfined to turrets placed on the new squadand on a reserve hose wagon: Chief Dunn wasa traditional firefighter, cautious about inno-vation.

He was also careful of his men. Throughmost of the 1920s, the fire department enjoyedan unusual respite from fatalities in the lineof duty. From 1921 to 1932, only one deathoccurred: on April 10, 1927, Firefighter GeorgeBrown of Engine 22, working on the secondfloor of the blazing Ramsey County Prevento-rium outside the city, was caught by a suddenroof collapse. He leaped to the ground but hadalready suffered fatal injuries from burns.Three fatalities in 1932 and 1933, however,showed that firefighters risked their lives onevery alarm, no matter how large or small thefire. Firefighter Patrick Flaherty fell from theroof of a burning house at Rose and Weide onMarch 9, 1932, and died on March 20 from in-

The only pumper purchased in 1931 was thisAmerican LaFrance 1000gpm triple combination rig shown inthis delivery photo lettered for Engine 7. It was actually placedin service as Engine 4.

Matt Lee

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Chapter 7, 1924-1934

juries complicated by pneumonia.Firefighter Louis Literski died on De-cember 17, 1932, from injuries suf-fered in a fall from the tillerman�s seatof Ladder 3 as it slewed around thecorner of Victoria and Ridgewood onthe way to a fire. Firefighter JoeFoley of Engine 14 died February 10,1933, after he fell from a roof at ablaze at 1430 Sherburne Avenue.

Hard, dangerous work also con-fronted firefighters at major fires, al-though the increasing effect of betterbuilding laws, fireproof construction,and automatic sprinklers downtownreduced their numbers. Clearance ofthe entire south side of 3rd Street tomake way for Kellogg Boulevard alsoeliminated the rows of old warehousesthat had seen so many fires over theyears. Total alarms continued to riseto a record 4,279 in 1930, but firelosses began to drop off. Hazards inoutlying areas, however, remainedhigh, particularly in the Midway in-dustrial district.

A 1:28 AM blaze on January 23,1929, completely destroyed thethree-story plant of the LaSalleProducts wholesale drug company(the same one damaged in a 1926fire). Nine engines and three trucksfought the smoky fire for over 10hours in 15-below temperatures. Aneven longer fight in sub-zeroweather occurred four days later.Companies responding on a 9:52 AMalarm found heavy fire in the base-ment of �Old Commission Row�, ablock-long, three-story row of ware-houses containing seven firms at282-300 East 6th Street. Flamesspread throughout the basement inan hour, then began to work intoupper floors, eventually breakingthrough the roof. Firefighters sum-moned on special alarms and an off-shift recall set up heavy streamsthat did not finally extinguish theblaze until midnight.

The ice covered ruins of the LaSalle Products fire on January23, 1929 at 2218 University Ave.


The �Commission Row� fire on January 27, 1929 involved a groupof 3 story warehouses. This interesting photo shows the old andnew. A steamer is visible pumping along side an Ahrens-Foxpiston pumper. St. Paul still used steam pumps into the 30�s,one of the last cities to do so.

StPFD/Robert Koetz

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Another stubborn blaze in six-degreeweather broke out at 11 AM on February 9,1931, in the Anthony apartments at 689-723Laurel Avenue. Flames starting in a sub-base-ment near the center of the four-story apart-ment row appeared knocked down severaltimes, only to break out elsewhere in the build-ing as they burrowed through walls and floors.A 2-11, several special calls, and at 12:30 PM,recall of the entire off-shift brought 13 engines,four ladder trucks, and the two squads to thescene. By the time the fire was controlled at 3PM, the building had been gutted.

On September 20, 1931, during a thunder-storm, at 5:20 PM a flash of lightning, clap ofthunder, then a violent explosion rockedfirefighters at Station 20. They turned out tofind a block-long, one-story warehouse atHampden Avenue and Wabash Street totallyinvolved, with flames spreading across Wabashto a second, similar warehouse. The blazingwarehouses, full of lumber, shavings, and saw-dust, sent up storms of sparks that soon setthreatening fires on the cupola of a nearby grainelevator and the roof of a creamery at 2250 Ter-ritorial Road, several blocks away. Chief Dunnsummoned 31 of the city�s 35 companies to con-trol the near-conflagration by late evening.

The burst of civic energy, publicemployment, and fire department im-provement represented by the 1929bond issue obscured for a time thedark economic clouds that gatheredby the end of the year. The stockmarket crash of October, 1929, didnot alone trigger the Great Depres-sion, but most dramatically signaledthe country�s rapid descent into theworst economic crisis of its history.Unemployment, plant shutdowns,bank failures, and collapsing wagesand agricultural prices grew steadilyworse as the depression spread world-wide. The numbers of persons in direneed rapidly exceeded the capacity oflocal public and private relief agen-cies. Bread lines, soup kitchens, and�Hooverville� shanty towns of home-less unemployed sprang up in everyAmerican city.

Although St. Paul�s diversified economyinitially responded less drastically to the de-pression than did heavy industry towns, popu-lation growth slowed by more than one-half.New commercial and industrial constructionsimply ceased. Many older, marginal struc-tures went vacant. Property tax returns fellas real estate values plummeted and taxpay-ers defaulted. City expenditures for publicrelief skyrocketed. By 1934, City finances werein disarray, with a $1,570,000 deficit in cur-rent expenses that was still growing. At thesame time, the city�s civic fabric was strainedby growing lawlessness. The �O�Connor� sys-tem had broken down: increasing crime washighlighted by well-publicized kidnappings,and a spectacular chase of arch-criminal JohnDillinger from his St. Paul hideout.

The mounting fiscal crisis slowly erodedfire department budgets. Although firemengot an added day off for a 72-hour week in 1930,an authorized increase of 10 men in 1931 wascanceled out by lay-offs within a few months.From a high of $947,151 in 1931, expendituresfell to less than $800,000 in 1935. Five moremen were dropped in 1932 and firefighters tooka substantial (10 per cent) pay cut of $15 permonth. Five more layoffs followed in 1933, and

Another interesting shot of the �Commission Row� fire with asteam pumper in the foreground and Water Tower 1 playing astream onto the roof of the buildings. The steamers certainlycontributed to the smoke at the scene.


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seven more in 1934. Worried thatmanning problems would endangertheir 72-hour week, firefightersbacked a city charter amendment ef-fective in January, 1934, confirmingtheir right to �one-day-rest-in-seven�,which together with the 1934 budgetcut forced Engines 2 and 12 out of ser-vice. Company strength dropped tofive men on just five companies, fouron all other engines and trucks, andthree on hose and squad companies.Even so, the City cut firefighterwages another $20 per month (15 percent) in 1934, and held back 14.5 percent of all paychecks for the first sixmonths of the year because of laggingtax receipts, cutting pay to its lowestfigure in 16 years.

Fire department response to themounting fiscal crisis could not havebeen helped by political turmoil thataffected its leadership. Commis-sioner of Public Safety James M.Clancy left his post in 1930 to makean unsuccessful bid for mayor. Vet-eran commissioner GeorgeSudheimer took his place and broughtin a new Deputy Public Safety Com-missioner, Fred Siegel, sendingHarry T. O�Connell (a close ally ofClancy) back to the fire departmentranks as an engineer. Assistant ChiefOscar Langer also returned to theranks as captain, replaced by Will-iam J. Sudeith, a captain with 21years experience on the department.

Two years later, however, newly electedMayor William Mahoney headed a slate of la-bor-backed candidates that won five of the sixcommissioner posts. James Clancy, defeatedfor commissioner by a narrow margin, con-tested the results, as did other unsuccessfulcandidates amidst charges of vote-count ir-regularities. The charges were eventuallydropped in return for a deal: veteran commis-sioner John H. McDonald retained his seat onthe commission and assumed the post of Pub-lic Safety Commissioner, in return for appoint-ment of Clancy�s supporters to the new admin-

istration. Thomas G. O�Connell becameMcDonald�s deputy, and Harry T. O�Connell(former Deputy Public Safety Commissioner,and Clancy protege) became Assistant FireChief in place of Sudeith, who went back tothe ranks as captain. The effect of politicaland perhaps familial connections was all tooevident. Harry O�Connell had never held afire department rank higher than engineer, butDunn (himself a staunch union member) wasapparently content to draw on his administra-tive and political experience while Dunnhandled what he saw as the more importantduty of fighting fires.

The Superior Refining Company fire of August 14, 1932 at Eatonand Morrison (in same area as the Craig Oil fire in 1924) causeda BLEVE. The term would not come into common firefightinguse until many years later.


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He had ample opportunity to exercise hisfirefighting skills. A blaze at 7:29 PM on Janu-ary 9, 1932, at 19 West 9th Street trapped 15persons in a second floor restaurant above ablazing service garage and furniture store. Allwere rescued by a 4-11 response of firefighters.One of the most spectacular, threatening firesof the era broke out at 1:25 PM on August 14,1932, in the Superior Refining Company plantand bulk storage facility at Eaton and Morrisonstreets on the west side. Flames involved aone-story shed crammed with barrels of gaso-line and oil. Twelve minutes after firemenarrived, a large storage tank containing 60,000gallons of gasoline exploded in an enormous�BLEVE� (Boiling Liquid Expanding VaporExplosion). One firefighter, caught in a poolof flaming gasoline, suffered severe burns; twoothers were injured by a flailing hose line whenthey dropped it to flee the blast. AssistantChief O�Connell led a crew into the fire areafive times at great risk to shut down valves to

other threatened tanks. At 2:00 PM, anotherBLEVE sent up a huge fireball that set fire tonearby dwellings and four boxcars loaded withgrease and oil. Firefighters, still without thefoam equipment they had so long requested,concentrated on cooling eight remaining gaso-line tanks and other exposures with a dozenbig streams. They contained the fire in fourhours but did not finally extinguish flames un-til 16 hours later.

A difficult high-fire problem faced compa-nies responding to a 10:51 AM alarm on Sep-tember 11, 1933. Flames involved wooden con-veyor galleries running across the top of con-crete grain tanks 120-feet high at the FarmersNational Grain Corporation Elevator, UpperLevee and Mill Street. Firefighters respond-ing on two special calls worked several hoursto hoist their hose lines far above the streetwhile the water tower cooled down flames andother streams quelled nearby spark fires.

Sparks posed a yet greater problemon April 15, 1934, when fire destroyedSt. Stanislaus Church at Yankee(near 7th) and Western avenues. The50-year-old church erupted in flamessoon after companies arrived on an11:31 AM alarm. Within half an hour,25 mile-per-hour winds scatteredflaming brands onto rooftops over sixblocks, setting fire to 27 houses andbarns on Yankee, Goodhue, Banfil,and Ann streets. Six special calls from11:36 AM to 12:30 PM brought 14 en-gine, six ladder, and two squad com-panies that narrowly prevented asweeping conflagration through thedensely built blocks. Collapse of thechurch steeple and front walls buriedLadder 1 in debris.

As the economic depression deep-ened, neither City government nor fire

The St. Stanislas Church fire on April 15,1934 nearly caused a conflagration.


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Chapter 7, 1924-1934

department administration appeared able toresolve the budget crisis. Local politics re-flected the public dissatisfaction and activismthat had brought the liberal (some said radi-cal) Farmer-Labor Party to power in state gov-ernment in 1930. William Mahoney drew onFarmer-Labor backing in his bid for re-elec-tion in 1934, ignoring mounting fiscal problemswhile he sought municipal ownership of elec-tric power utilities at the cost of major addi-tional debt. Voters in 1934 were far more in-terested in cleaning up underworld racketeer-ing in St. Paul. Labor-backed incumbents facedmayoral aspirant Mark Gehan and a slate of�independent� commissioner candidates thatincluded H.E. Warren, campaigning specifi-cally for Public Safety Commissioner on a po-lice reform platform. In an election with thelargest voter turnout yet recorded, Gehan andthree of the �independents�, including Warren,won. As contested election results again de

layed assignment of commissioner posts, ChiefDunn�s tenure, always labor supported, ap-peared uncertain.

A week after the election, Chief Dunn en-tered the hospital with an intestinal disorder.He did not survive an operation on May 4, 1934.His death at age 65 ended a 42-year career asa firefighter, 10 of those years as chief. Underhis leadership, the fire department successfullybattled some of the city�s most threatening firesand made visible progress with its new sta-tions and fire alarm system, but showed fewother improvements in equipment or methods.Dunn�s traditional approach and indifferenceto either politics or innovation left the depart-ment vulnerable to the drastic budget stric-tures of the depression years. His lastinglegacy was a tradition of hard firefighting, ledby an old-time, no-nonsense smoke eater whoseone purpose in life was to fight fires.

The 1933 Luverne 750gpm triple combination pumper is shown here as Engine 3 get-ting ready to return to quarters with a full load of frozen wet hose. The StPFD shopsused the hose body is from the former 1913 American LaFrance Hose and Chemicaland the Luverne chassis to construct the rig.

StPFD

st. paul f a history - extra alarm › stphistsample2.pdfin 1981, and this book, st. paul fire - a...

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