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| Chief James C. McIntosh, Jr. (c. 1897) Susan Cook Collection |
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| Knoxville as laid out by James White and Charles McClung for a 1791 lottery |
On September 9, 1852, the Alexanders' daughter, Margaret White Alexander (McIntosh's mother), who was just two months shy of turning nineteen years of age, married John Campbell McIntosh (McIntosh's father), a promising young doctor who came from another well-known family in town.
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| Dr. Donald McIntosh, First Presbyterian Cemetery |
The McIntosh family has played a significant role in both Knoxville's antebellum and postbellum history; however, their roots do not go as deep as the Whites, McClungs, and Alexanders. The first McIntosh to arrive in Knoxville and the United States for that matter was Dr. Donald McIntosh (McIntosh's grandfather). Born in Inverness, Scotland in 1797, he had studied medicine at the University of Edinburgh. After graduation, he embarked on a journey to the United States and soon found himself in Knoxville around 1818 working alongside a Dr. Wyatt. Before long, Dr. Wyatt packed his bags and went west to the new state of Missouri, thus leaving McIntosh with the practice he had help build thanks in part to his skills as a physician, but also due to his honorable character. He practiced not only in Knoxville, but also in the surrounding country and even went as far as Kentucky to treat patients. On February 1, 1820, he married Marjorie Campbell (McIntosh's grandmother), the daughter of both James Campbell and Anne Campbell, who had previously arrived in Knoxville from Campbell's Town or Campbeltown, Scotland. They made their home in a modest brick building that stood at the corner of Cumberland Avenue and Central Street (then known as Water Street). Marjorie gave birth to the couple's first child, a daughter named Sarah Ann, born in late 1821. Sadly, however, Sarah Ann died in 1826, just shy of her fifth birthday. A second child, a son named after her father, James Campbell McIntosh (McIntosh's father), was born on their fifth wedding anniversary, February 1, 1825. Not quite a year after Sarah Ann's passing, Marjorie suddenly died in the summer of 1827. Though grief-stricken, Dr. Donald McIntosh continued his medical practice and served a two-year term as Mayor from 1832-1834 while raising his young son. In 1837, a malaria epidemic, often referred to as yellow fever, crippled Knoxville as many of its residents became ill and died, including Dr. McIntosh and his father-in-law, James Campbell, both of whom were buried at First Presbyterian Cemetery along with many of Knoxville first families, including James White.
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| Marjorie McIntosh, First Presbyterian Cemetery |
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| First Presbyterian Church and Cemetery where many of Knoxville's first families rest |
Though the young doctor built a great fortune in a relative short period of time, there was a darker side to McIntosh. That side, a young man battling his own inner demons, was closely guarded, hidden away from many in Knoxville as McIntosh spent most of his late teenage years and early twenties studying far away. Even when he returned to East Tennessee he spent little time in Knoxville. Instead, most of his time was devoted to building a drug firm in Memphis. But when he returned to his hometown for good in the early 1850s, he simply no longer could manage to keep his issues bottled up. Perhaps the trauma of losing his father and the grief he experienced as he neared his formative teenage years contributed to the susceptibility of his developing an addiction to alcohol. Soon word spread of several late night violent encounters on the streets of Knoxville involving McIntosh that resulted in abusive, vulgar language and fistfights. Too often such encounters were fueled by his insatiable desire for alcohol. He had begun to turn to spirituous liquors to cope with his anguish as a student of medicine and he consumed greater amounts of alcohol the older he got. His desire to drink excessively and the violent behavior he exhibited when drunk was well known to Judge Ebeneezer Alexander when McIntosh asked for Margaret's hand in marriage. Before the judge would give his blessing he demanded McIntosh to give up drinking. The doctor gave the judge his word that his lips would never touch liquor again. That promise was broken on his wedding night. Margaret shared stories of her husband's violent, drunken behavior with her father; however, Judge Alexander tried his best to give his son-in-law the benefit of the doubt. He had a number of stern face-to-face encounters with McIntosh who repeatedly promised that he had slipped, that it was the last time he would embarrass himself, his wife, and the judge's family. Despite the many attempts at an intervention, the last straw came when McIntosh stormed out of the Alexanders' home brandishing a pistol as he headed into town for a drink. Judge Alexander pushed his daughter to file for divorce on May 20, 1853, eight and half months into their marriage. The proceedings lasted nearly a year before the divorce was finalized on February 22, 1854.
In the meantime, Margaret moved on and married Alexander McMillan in 1855 and together they had one son (Alexander) and three daughters (Annette, Margaret, and Mary--each of whom would marry prominent Knoxville businessmen with the latter marrying a future mayor in Martin J. Condon). The marriage ended when Alexander died abruptly in 1865.
Dr. McIntosh moved on as well, though he took a little longer for himself before beginning another serious relationship. On October 5, 1856, he married Martha Johnson, who bore him three children: Allen, Marjorie, and Clementine. The relationship was a volatile one, indeed. They had a number of issues throughout their marriage and these obstacles in their marriage were further escalated by the contentious national debate following the election of Abraham Lincoln in 1860 over secession as both took opposite sides with Martha supporting secession and later the Confederacy, whereas McIntosh maintained loyalty to the Union was the best course of action. Martha had her husband arrested by Confederate authorities and placed in a guardhouse in Knoxville for a period of time. She sent word that when he was released he was not to return home or else she would kill him. McIntosh attempted to file for divorce in court on June 5, 1862; however, the war brought all court proceedings to a screeching halt. The divided nature of the Civil War in East Tennessee and the fact that Knoxville endured occupation by both Union and Confederate forces throughout the war meant the courts were shut down for most of the war. Once things stabilized in Knoxville in early 1865, the courts resumed with a backlog of cases (McIntosh's case was not taken up). After the war was over, McIntosh scheduled a July 2, 1865 visit to see his estranged wife and kids at their home, but was welcomed inside by Martha brandishing a pistol which she fired twice, narrowly missing the doctor both times. Unsuccessful in her attempts to murder her husband, yet undeterred, Martha grabbed a hatchet and struck McIntosh several times, who suffered severe injuries before managing to escape with his life. Eleven days later, McIntosh filed for divorce on the grounds that Martha McIntosh "deliberately and maliciously attempted to take his life." Two weeks later, on July 28, 1865, the court finalized the divorce.
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| 1860 Census reveals Dr. James C. McIntosh, Sr. married to Martha and their 3 children |
Once his divorce was finalized, McIntosh began seeing his former wife and grieving widow Margaret White Alexander McMillan. Time had healed old wounds and from all appearances, Dr. McIntosh seemed to be a changed man, having given up the intoxicating liquors that had fueled his worst tendencies and behaviors as a young man. James and Margaret began anew, taking things slowly as they engaged in a courtship that lasted well over a year before the couple married for a second time on July 12, 1867. Dr. McIntosh took in her four young children from her previous marriage to Alexander McMillan and together, James and Margaret had three children of their own: James C. McIntosh, Jr. (1868); Sarah "Sadie" Bartlett (1870); and Laura Mabry (1873). Tragically, Margaret passed away a week after giving birth to the couple's third child. She was buried in Old Gray Cemetery.
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| Dr. James C. McIntosh, Sr. and Margaret White Alexander-McIntosh, Old Gray Cemetery |
James C. McIntosh, Jr., referred to as "Jimmy" during his childhood, was an excited, often rebellious youth. According to family lore, he was described as a "pistol," an energetic, strongly opinionated man who relished the opportunity to challenge authority--a trait that his father possessed and which was evident in the son during his years as a Knoxville firefighter. As a young boy, he spent time in the homes of his half-sisters who helped raise him, especially Annette McMillan, who opened her home to him after she married Herbert Winbourne Hall, one of Knoxville's most successful businessmen of the late 19th and early 20th century (Hall got his start in the wholesale business before becoming a founding partner in Hall and Donahue funeral home). At the age of seventeen, he married Sarah Ann Reed, who was three years his junior. Together, they would have eight children, six of whom survived childbirth (Donald 1888; Mary 1889; Edward 1892; Nettie 1895; Mamie 1899; and Elizabeth 1904). In order to provide a home for both himself and his young bride, McIntosh began immediately looking for employment. He took his first job working for Howell and Fox, a bottling company. After a couple years, his half-sister, Margaret McClung Condon, got him a job working as a porter for her husband's (Martin J. Condon) family grocery business. Then, at the age of twenty-one, McIntosh, through his family connections, was elected by the city fathers on the Board of Public Works to the Knoxville fire department as a pipeman and assigned to the Central Market House fire hall in North Knoxville.
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| 1880 Census reveals 11 year old James C. McIntosh, Jr. living in the home of Herbert W. Hall and his half-sister |
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| Central Market Fire Station in North Knoxville at Emory Park where McIntosh served from 1890-93. |
Politics became intertwined with firefighting in the late 19th century as cities shifted from voluntary to paid, professional fire departments. On the one hand, the system allowed city officials to drain the proverbial swamp of undisciplined incompetence that was rampant in the voluntary fire department system. On the other hand, the political nature of urban fire departments subjected cities to vast, sweeping changes in their firefighting force. A shift in political power from one party to another typically meant a wrecking ball tore through each and every public safety department as veterans with institutional knowledge and skills of their department were replaced with politically appointed novices often with no knowledge of the work that they were now tasked to undertake. Rather than skill, they owed their positions either to friendships and familial relationships or canvassing the wards and their own department on election day for a particular candidate, which, in the case of an urban fire department, threatened to undermine its efficiency in the event of a devastating conflagration. This last point was a grave concern to many urban, Progressive reformers of the late 19th century as members of a fire department subsequently became paid, political appointees. Cronyism thus put both the safety of the public and the firefighters themselves at great risk.
James C. McIntosh, Jr., and a number of recent appointees to the fire department for that matter, managed to survive the shifting political winds in Knoxville during the early and mid-1890s. Perhaps he had yet to involve himself actively in politics--he would soon become a rabid foot soldier in local, progressive Democratic politics, which later drew the ire of the city's Republican leaders. In the meantime, McIntosh proved to get up to speed as a firefighter rather quickly. He excelled in this new position and soon became tasked with the responsibility of being the driver of the Alexander Allison, an 1877 Silsby steam fire engine.
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| James C. McIntosh, Jr. (c. early to mid-1890s) |
McIntosh was well-respected among his fellow brothers in the department and he possessed self-confidence and bravery that had no bounds. In an age of horse-drawn firefighting, he was an expert horseman whose style was fast. McIntosh would take his horse-pulled apparatus beyond its capabilities, flying through the streets and around sharp corners to the very edge, and somehow he could dance a dance with the wagon or steamer, keeping it upright on its wheels. He was also known to stand too dangerously close to the front lines or for racing headfirst into a burning inferno without any fear of death to save a life. At times, however, his desire to push closer or faster to a fire nearly cost him life. He was struck and suffered a host of injuries by falling debris on a number of occasions and often pushed his horse-drawn wagons and steamers too fast on dangerous stretches of road. He once overturned his wagon while racing to a fire when a wheel became caught in the streetcar tracks at Gay and Fifth Avenue. The accident threw McIntosh clear of the wagon resulting in minor injuries. Fire fighting is a risky business indeed, even in situations where firefighters are not immediately in the clutches of the fire fiend itself. On one occasion, a fire at the Lamar House resulted in serious injuries for McIntosh, who was simply standing next to one of the department's steamers as hoses were being connected. He noticed a hose coupling caught in the wheel of a wagon that was being moved away from the fire and realized that if the vehicle was not stopped, it could break the hose, which the department had too few feet of in its arsenal to begin with, and could possibly damage its steam fire engine. As he went to grab the hose, which was quickly stretched to its full length, he was thrown violently into the air, striking his head on the curbstone and left knee on the brick pavement. As a result, he received a severe cut over his left eye and broke his left knee cap. The injuries sidelined him for over a month and yet he still required crutches for a number of weeks after returning to his post. On yet another occasion, much later in McIntosh's career, he had a close call while returning to his fire hall after answering an alarm. McIntosh was thrown from the steamer he was piloting when its wheels dropped into a deep crossing at the intersection of Patton St. & Payne Ave in East Knoxville. According to the Knoxville Journal and Tribune, McIntosh "had a narrow escape from death or serious injury under the wheels of the steamer" during the February 5, 1912 incident. "The company had just answered an alarm at the home of Sallie Luttrell, colored, 306 Patton Street, was returning down the rather steep incline on Patton street, when the engine struck a rough spot in the street. McIntosh, who was driving, was thrown to the ground, the front wheel of the engine passing so close to his head that it knocked off his cap."
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| James C. McIntosh, Jr. in passenger seat next to the driver. West Knoxville Wagon Co. (c. 1904-08) |
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| Chief McIntosh, The Fire Chief's Wagon Making the Run (Knoxville Tribune, April 8, 1897) |
McIntosh managed to catch the eye of his superior, Fire Chief W.W. Dunn, who pushed the city fathers to promote him to the rank of captain in 1893 and had him reassigned to the department's main headquarters located inside the new City Hall on the northside of the Market House in Market Square. There, McIntosh headed up the city's hook and ladder company for the next three years until Fire Chief William Cross suddenly retired due to his failing health. As the city fathers pondered over their next appointee as chief of the fire department, McIntosh was aided by the fact that beyond his courage and abilities as a firefighter, McIntosh made a perfect political foot-soldier for Mayor Samuel Gordon Heiskell. The twenty-seven year old Democrat shared the new mayor’s brand of progressive reformism. Moreover, the son of a prominent local doctor and grandson of Knoxville’s seventh mayor was well liked both among the Democratic members, who controlled the Board of Public Works, and the city's elite. And, perhaps most importantly of all, McIntosh appeared to have a close connection to W. C. Tatom, the reformist-minded Democratic editor of the Knoxville Tribune. At a September 10, 1896 meeting of the Board of Public Works, McIntosh was nominated and unanimously elected to succeed Cross as Knoxville's fifth fire chief in eleven years as a paid, professional department. At the age of twenty-seven, the seven-year "veteran" fireman now commanded a department that consisted of twenty-three firefighters spread across three stations and boasted three steam fire engines and a hook and ladder truck as its primary apparatus.
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| Knoxville Mayor Samuel Gordon Heiskell |
Although politics and family connections no doubt played a central role in McIntosh's appointment as fire chief, there was some consideration given to ensuring that the next fire chief also be a veteran plucked from the department. At the meeting in which McIntosh was elected, a petition was read from an insurance company that stated in selecting a fire chief, Knoxville's city fathers should do so in "strict regard to his qualifications rather than to his political views." The petition further stated that this chief be sent to study as a pupil of other larger city departments for a period of one or two months. The petition stated that the reason Knoxville had so few serious fires was "merely a stroke of good luck rather than the efficiency of the present department, for the reason that they had never been tested on a large fire." McIntosh was sent to examine other American urban fire departments and came back with a list of demands to bolster Knoxville's firefighting defenses. According to a February 5, 1897 headline in the Knoxville Journal, "Chief McIntosh Wants a Whole Lot of Things." He pressed the city fathers for new firefighting apparatus and to increase the department personnel. He won a nominal victory in the form of a beautiful cherry colored chief's wagon to be pulled by a fast gray horse named Reps; however, if the Board of Public Works believed that a personal wagon would placate their new chief they were mistaken. McIntosh called on the city fathers to purchase a chemical engine in his first annual report. Within days, Tatom's Knoxville Tribune ratcheted up the pressure on the city fathers in a full-page article complete with an illustration of a chemical engine that McIntosh argued Knoxville needed. The Tribune reminded its readers that every fire chief since the introduction of a paid fire department had pleaded for a chemical engine. At a cost of nearly $2000 cheaper than a steam fire engine, the chemical engine was not only much more efficient, but also caused much less damage in suppressing a blaze. Its lighter weight compared to the robust steamers in the department’s arsenal meant that it could be moved much faster to the scene of a fire. Moreover, one gallon of carbonic acid from the chemical was equal to forty gallons of water generated by a steam engine. The Tribune cited an 1895 inferno along Gay Street in which cellars filled with a number of goods untouched by the fire were in fact damaged by thousands of gallons of water thrown on the buildings to suppress the blaze. City fathers responded by opening negotiations with a company in Chicago to furnish Knoxville with a reliable chemical engine. The Tribune did its best to remind Knoxvillians that time was not on their side when it came to bolstering its fire defenses and shoring up glaring gaps in the city’s fire codes
Nothing had a greater effect in waking Knoxville up to the grim reality that the fire-fiend could strike at any moment than news of a catastrophic fire from Chattanooga. During the early hours of April 3, 1897, a fire ripped through the heart of Chattanooga’s business district—the Richardson block—killing two prominent businessmen and causing nearly $500,000 in damages, marking it the worst fire in its history. The Chattanooga fire prompted the Tribune to investigate the readiness of the Knoxville fire department in the event of a fire of a similar magnitude. The paper gave the department a failing grade because it lacked essential equipment to wage war against a cataclysmic fire. The Tribune did not stop there. Tatom reserved the bulk of his criticism for those charged with keeping the city. He dispatched an investigate reporter who found most downtown buildings in violation of the fire escape ordinances. According to the fire escape codes enacted in 1890, all buildings of three stories or higher in which people worked, lived, or slept were required to have fire escapes. Even the few buildings that had fire escapes were not up to code. Tatom chided the Board of Public Works, who, by law, were responsible for the enforcement of the fire escape codes.
The Tribune conveniently sought out Chief McIntosh for comment. The chief acknowledged that the city was woefully unprepared to combat a fire of a similar magnitude that had struck their East Tennessee neighbors. McIntosh also took the opportunity to remind readers that his department was appallingly understaffed. Furthermore, he confirmed that most owners of structures three stories or larger in the city were in non-compliance with the fire codes. Asked point blank why his department had not moved on this issue, McIntosh responded, “I can only inspect and take action at the instance of the board of public works. The very minute the board orders me to proceed, I will do so and will certainly enforce the ordinance to the letter.” When confronted with the results of the investigation and the chief’s statement, Jacob W. Borches, the lone Republican member of the Board of Public Works and frequent critic of Chief McIntosh, insisted that it was his belief that such orders had been issued to McIntosh. “I know that I received notice to put [fire escapes] upon my building,” he claimed, “and I did it.” Nevertheless, Borches pledged that the Board of Public Works would take up the matter of fire safety at its next meeting scheduled for April 16. Events, however, would soon intervene to radically alter the next board meeting’s agenda. What no one could fathom was that the fire-fiend was about to awake from its slumber and strike the heart of Knoxville with the full brunt of its cataclysmic destructiveness.
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| Jacob W. Borches, Republican member of the Board of Public Works |
Note: I will skip over McIntosh's role in the April 8, 1897 Million Dollar Fire on Gay Street and much of his efforts to enhance the efficiency of the fire department during his year and a half tenure as fire chief so as to save that material for my forthcoming book, Knoxville's Million Dollar Fire.
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| Knoxville's Fire Department, 1897. Chief McIntosh is seated in the center of the front row |
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| Point in which Knoxville's Fire Department got the Million Dollar Fire contained. Looking north on Gay Street. Susan Cook Collection. |
Following the Million Dollar Fire, McIntosh and the fire department was praised for its efforts to contain and extinguish the fire from destroying the city given their limited resources, which necessitated a call for help from Chattanooga's Fire Department who answered by rushing a steamer and some of their firefighters to help. Still, Chief McIntosh received some criticism for the extent of the losses incurred as most of the buildings on the 300 and 400 blocks of the east side of Gay Street were consumed in the fire. The chief and the fire department were also cited as one of a number of excuses to counter the claims of plaintiffs seeking redress in a number of cases brought against the owner and manager of the Knox Hotel where the fire originated.
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| Aftermath of Knoxville's Million Dollar Fire |
1898 ushered in more sweeping political change as a fiscally conservative Republican wave washed over the city and many of its progressive Democratic officials were swept away. A Republican Board of Public Works wasted little time in employing its political guillotine. Eighteen public safety employees affiliated with the Democratic party were decapitated during the first meeting of the new B.P.W. Some thought McIntosh, who had managed to escape the guillotine, could be spared. However, he met his fate at the next meeting when he was replaced by Vol F. Gossett, a political ally of the new Republican mayor William Rule. Gossett had no previous firefighting experience, but told reporters that he was willing to learn. When pressed if he would move from his home in South Knoxville and take up residence in the department's main headquarters, Gossett replied that he would remain south of the river unless the board compelled him to come to the city, that he was not anxious to leave the "sunny south." McIntosh was demoted to being a driver of a steamer once more but was soon thereafter pushed out by the Republicans who suggested that he resign or else face their political guillotine because of his close ties to the previous mayor. He formally resigned his position in the fire department on March 3, 1898. The editor of the Knoxville Tribune opined that “in retiring Mr. McIntosh it may be truthfully stated that the city loses one of its most efficient firemen. He made one of the best chiefs of the department the city has ever had.”
McIntosh soon threw his hat into local Democratic politics and made a successful bid for city constable in the August 1898 election. He served one year before suddenly resigning to join the Thirty-First Infantry (U.S. Volunteers) as a non-commissioned officer during the Spanish-American War. Some Democratic leaders in the city speculated that McIntosh only enlisted to fight after being deprived of a post in a new fire hall being constructed in West Knoxville. With the fighting long concluded in Cuba by the time McIntosh enlisted, he was dispatched to the Philippines, where the United States waged a grisly, guerrilla war to suppress the Filipino independence movement led by Emilio Aguinaldo and his nationalist forces. Of the 1401 men in McIntosh's regiment, one died in action, twenty-eight died of diseases, and thirty-three deserted during their two years of service in the Philippines. While McIntosh was serving overseas, his wife was pregnant with their fifth child. To help Sarah with the kids, McIntosh's father moved in with the family. Dr. McIntosh's health was beginning to fail and he remained in his son's home with his grandchildren until he died in 1914.
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| McIntosh Joins U.S. Volunteers, Knoxville Sentinel (August 25, 1899) |
Four years later, with yet another shift in the political winds, the Republicans seized power and exacted their revenge on McIntosh who had played a significant role in canvassing the fire department and West Knoxville to solicit Democratic votes. The Republican axe fell at the first B.P.W. meeting in which the Democrats were no longer in control and the heads of McIntosh and his fellow firemen who engaged in "pernicious activity in politics" were lopped off. What he did next for a paycheck is a little unclear. The city directory for 1909 states that he was a collector; however, there is no mention of McIntosh in the 1910 city directory. The 1910 census lists his occupation as a "laborer."
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| Knoxville Journal & Tribune (Jan. 24, 1908) |
In the absence of a merit system or civil service, McIntosh was a political football to be kicked around by the whims of Knoxville politics. That all changed in 1911, when a favorable Democratic B.P.W. elected McIntosh to the rank of captain and he was assigned to Engine Company No. 4 in East Knoxville. The Civil Service system was shortly thereafter instituted and McIntosh's future employment in the fire department that he loved was secured. The only danger he now faced was caused by his own headstrong and occasionally, reckless behavior as he faced a number of suspensions for leaving the fire hall without permission and failing to report back on duty after leaving to go home. There was a suspension for drinking while on duty and an altercation with a city alderman. At times, he drew the ire of his superior, Chief Sam B. Boyd, for organizing a protest among the city's firefighters to a new uniform being pushed on them from a Cincinnati company that McIntosh claimed was lining the pockets of those in city government. He arranged for the phones of all the city's fire stations to be wired together so they could hear him explain his position to the chief, which, in fact, created a public safety issue because he had all of the station's phone lines tied up and would have prevented an alarm from being phoned in to dispatch in the case of a fire.
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| Engine Co. 4 in East Knoxville (c. 1911-1917) Captain McIntosh is seated up against the door (second from the right) |
His own failing health caught up with him in early December 1927 as
he was forced to take a leave of absence without pay. For the rest of the month, the men
in his company filled his place and took no pay, thus providing him his full
monthly salary of $155.00 (when he joined the fire department in 1890, his
salary was $40.00 a month). His health forced him to resign from the Knoxville
Fire Department on January 31, 1928 at which time he began drawing a
pension.
Just as McIntosh served as a direct link to Knoxville's first families during his lifetime, he also served as direct link between the horse-drawn era of firefighting and that of the modern age of the motorized firefighting department. By the time he retired, over half of the fire department had not even served when horses were the only means of carrying the department's apparatus to a fire. That transition began in 1913 with the arrival of an American LaFrance Type 10 fire engine truck which was delivered to the Park City fire department. Knoxville received its first motorized vehicle the following year. The shift to a fully motorized department was rapidly sped up after the 1917 annexation which prompted city leaders to build a number of new fire stations throughout the city and order motorized trucks for each station. Knoxville became fully motorized in late December 1917 when "Dennis," the fire department's last horse, was transferred to the city's street department. McIntosh, like so many of the firefighters of his generation, was saddened by this passing though they realized the benefits of a motorized department for public safety.
McIntosh spent his remaining days with his wife in their home located off Route #3 on the Knox and Sevier County line where his daughter (Elizabeth) and son-in-law (James Carl Singleton) and their children lived next door. His grandchildren remembered him telling them stories of going to fires on horses and he was occasionally asked by friends and the press to recount his activities during the Million Dollar Fire. Every now and then he would tell his story and then lead those listening to him over to a trunk in his house that held a badly twisted piece of glass that he had kept from the ruins of the fire. One of his favorite stories was of a fully loaded pistol that was found in the ruins of the Hotel Knox. Thirty years later, he still marveled at the fact that it had gone through the fire and yet, despite the incredible heat generated by the blaze, not a single bullet in the pistol had gone off. He would then casually remark, the pistol was not so badly burned either. He often closed his account of the Million Dollar Fire stating that Knoxville's merchant princes had raised two sums of $250 for both the Knoxville and Chattanooga firefighters who battled the conflagration. "We certainly were glad to get the extra money," he would say before pausing for a moment. "It made us feel that someone thought of us for all of the work we had gone through” for the firemen worked 24 hours a day for nearly a week afterwards pouring a steady stream of water on the smoldering ruins. "For weeks after that I was sick."
Just as McIntosh served as a direct link to Knoxville's first families during his lifetime, he also served as direct link between the horse-drawn era of firefighting and that of the modern age of the motorized firefighting department. By the time he retired, over half of the fire department had not even served when horses were the only means of carrying the department's apparatus to a fire. That transition began in 1913 with the arrival of an American LaFrance Type 10 fire engine truck which was delivered to the Park City fire department. Knoxville received its first motorized vehicle the following year. The shift to a fully motorized department was rapidly sped up after the 1917 annexation which prompted city leaders to build a number of new fire stations throughout the city and order motorized trucks for each station. Knoxville became fully motorized in late December 1917 when "Dennis," the fire department's last horse, was transferred to the city's street department. McIntosh, like so many of the firefighters of his generation, was saddened by this passing though they realized the benefits of a motorized department for public safety.
McIntosh spent his remaining days with his wife in their home located off Route #3 on the Knox and Sevier County line where his daughter (Elizabeth) and son-in-law (James Carl Singleton) and their children lived next door. His grandchildren remembered him telling them stories of going to fires on horses and he was occasionally asked by friends and the press to recount his activities during the Million Dollar Fire. Every now and then he would tell his story and then lead those listening to him over to a trunk in his house that held a badly twisted piece of glass that he had kept from the ruins of the fire. One of his favorite stories was of a fully loaded pistol that was found in the ruins of the Hotel Knox. Thirty years later, he still marveled at the fact that it had gone through the fire and yet, despite the incredible heat generated by the blaze, not a single bullet in the pistol had gone off. He would then casually remark, the pistol was not so badly burned either. He often closed his account of the Million Dollar Fire stating that Knoxville's merchant princes had raised two sums of $250 for both the Knoxville and Chattanooga firefighters who battled the conflagration. "We certainly were glad to get the extra money," he would say before pausing for a moment. "It made us feel that someone thought of us for all of the work we had gone through” for the firemen worked 24 hours a day for nearly a week afterwards pouring a steady stream of water on the smoldering ruins. "For weeks after that I was sick."
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| A tea cup pulled from the ruins of the Million Dollar Fire (Museum of East Tennessee History) |
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| James C. McIntosh in his retirement Susan Cook Collection |
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| James C. McIntosh, Jr. Obituary, Knoxville Sentinel (March 16, 1939) |
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James C. and Sarah Ann McIntosh, Woodlawn Cemetery |
