"Knoxville's" First Motorized Fire Truck

Since posting my previous blog, Digging Deeper: Researching the Fire--Using Facebook to find "Knoxville's" 1st Motorized Fire Truck, in which I described how using social media has been productive in the course of my research, I have had some help in locating two additional photographs of "Knoxville's" first motorized fire truck (see below!). Collectively, these three photographs constitute all of the "known photographs" of the American LaFrance fire truck purchased by Park City in 1913 prior to it being incorporated into Knoxville in 1917. But surely, there must be more out there, eh? Yet another positive use of Facebook to do research.


 

The above photograph was taken in January 1913 during the arrival of the American LaFrance Type 10 Triple Combination Pumper from the company's factory in Elmira, New York. The new fire truck, purchased by Park City, is being driven by members of its fire department. Captain Rufus B. Newman is sitting next to the driver. Captain Newman was the son of veteran Knoxville firefighter David Newman, who also had two other sons serving in the Knoxville Fire Department. For more on the Newmans, Knoxville's first family of smoke eaters, see my earlier blogs: Part 1 & Part 2.

The 1913 American LaFrance Type 10 Triple Combination Pumper was moved from Park City to Engine Co. 4 in May 1917 where it remained for many years at the fire hall located at the corner of Clinch and Lithgoe in East Knoxville. (Knoxville News-Sentinel, March 17, 1985)

Digging Deeper: Researching the Fire--Using Facebook to find "Knoxville's" 1st Motorized Fire Truck

For all its ills, social media--Facebook in particular--can be a very useful tool for the twentieth-first century researcher. What began in the early to mid-2000s as an exclusive social networking platform for Ivy League and other college students--today's so-called "Xennials" & the earliest "Millenials"--has since rapidly expanded to anyone with internet access who is at least 13 years of age. By the late 2000s, Baby Boomers and their parents were fast becoming active on the social medial platform as they wanted not only to connect with family and friends, but also reconnect with long, lost friends through group pages often associated with their high schools and communities. In the process, group pages devoted to communities that they had once lived or currently resided were born and these pages became portals for members to share and preserve the history of their communities through photographs, newspaper clippings, oral accounts, letters, etc., etc. Likewise, group pages devoted to a particular hobby or interest that members joined because of a subject that they were passionate about developed along the same lines. The posts on these pages not only generate a reaction in the form of a thumbs up, but also receive comments from people who have a connection to the subject matter or, better yet, have more historical information/artifacts to share to the discussion. For a historian, these posts shared on group pages can be a gold mine to discover primary sources that are not currently preserved in an archives or some historical repository, but rather are currently being shared on social media via someone sitting in front of their desktop, laptop, or mobile phone making either a post or a comment.

Since I began actively researching for the book, I have joined any and all Facebook pages that relate to the subject matter of my project--Knoxville, TN history & firefighting. My favorite pages--the ones that have been most useful--are Knoxville Tennessee History & Memories (devoted to, as the name suggests--Knoxville's history) and SPAAMFAA (The Society for the Preservation and Appreciation of Antique Motor Fire Apparatus of America), which includes very knowledgeable people who have worked in the firefighting sector whether it be as a firefighter or a mechanic, or perhaps are enthusiasts who have purchased and restored vintage firefighting apparatus. There are additional pages devoted to Knoxville history and more particularly hand and steam fire engines that are also very useful; however, these two Facebook group pages have been very useful and both boast over 20,000 members. That does not necessarily translate into 20,000 experts on the subject matter of their respective pages; most members join simply to read the posts and learn something rather than engage and share content themselves. But among these members, there are indeed experts, those who have firsthand knowledge of the subject matter. Some are very passionate about a particular subject. For instance, they know everything about every mile of railroad track in and around Knoxville or they know the inner workings of American LaFrance fire trucks. Perhaps they are connected to a first family of Tennessee and have a stash of personal papers and other trinkets or treasures from generations of their ancestors locked away in boxes in the attic. Though they may live far away in another state, on the opposite coast, or even another continent, that knowledge, that rich history, is waiting to be shared if researchers reach out and make contact with these valuable conduits of history who are but a mouse click away.

Now, for an example of how one of these Facebook group pages helped me discover an image of "Knoxville's" first motorized fire truck (you will soon discover why Knoxville is placed in quotes), let me begin with the following photograph (see below) that was shared with me by the great-granddaughter of James C. McIntosh, Jr., the fire chief during Knoxville's Million Dollar Fire. I will, in an informal or casual manner, work through the process by which I analyze a historical photograph.

Engine Co. 4 on Gay Street (L to R: George A. Leach, Driver; Capt. James C. McIntosh;
Lt. James Huffaker; William W. Henry; unknown; Joseph Mack Hickey

First, I am immediately curious as to the specific time, location, and model of fire truck in this photograph. The image was shared with me without any additional information except that the gentleman seated next to the driver (second from left) was James C. McIntosh.

So, what next? Now comes the flood of questions to answer of this particular photograph. From my own knowledge of Knoxville history and as a student of history, I am immediately drawn to identifying the specific time and location of the image:

Time & Location: obviously an early motorized fire truck; so, has to be post-1913 when Knoxville first became motorized (I have a list of the motorized trucks from a Knoxville history of the fire department, which I have corroborated with the City Council Meeting Minutes since I quickly discovered some discrepancies with the list that was compiled by a former firefighter).

American flags on truck; so, could be a parade.

Banner on side of truck (looking at a higher resolution scan of the photo) indicates a campaign to sale war bonds. Thus, since the image was taken during a war bonds sale and considering the vehicle's design, more likely age of the WWI rather than WWII era, I will assume the photograph was taken during WWI in the 1910s (noting that the war took place between 1914-18 but United States military involvement in the war was 1917-18); however, I need to look at more details to nail down the time for certain.

For example, the business in the background will help identify location and a search of Knoxville's city directories will help narrow the time. Working on the assumption that this could be WWI era, I immediately went to check the city directories for 1914-1918. Looking up "L.B. Trotter," I found a similar name for a clothing store located at 207 Gay Street (matches the address in the picture!) in 1916--the business was located at the 207 address from 1912-1916; however, the business is no longer listed in the 1917 and subsequent city directories. It appears L.B. Trotter went out of business either after the 1916 city directory was printed or sometime in 1917.

So now I know the location = 200 block of the west side of Gay Street and that the time period is certainly within the WWI era. Because L.B. Trotter was closed at some point in either late 1916 or sometime in 1917, that does not mean that the photo is certainly before 1917 as the signage could still remain above the store before a new business entered.

A little more research before reaching out for help on social media. I decided to search for WWI parades and Knoxville had a few indeed. There were a couple big parades to celebrate Armistice Day and to welcome the soldiers home; however, these came at the end of the war. Would a bond sale be needed after the war? Wouldn't think so, right? I went to look for parades held during the WWI itself, when Knoxville sent its soldiers off to war. I quickly zeroed in on September 7, 1917, the only parade that I could find during the war and a day in which thousands of Knoxvillians turned out to say goodbye to the men of the Third Tennessee Infantry, an East Tennessee regiment of 900 strong headed off for combat service in France. As the troops marched to the railway station a band played, flags waved, and cheering crowds lined the streets. Among the festivities, the fire department's new fleet of trucks were adorned with flags and, SIGNIFICANT, the firemen of each station rode atop their apparatus.

Front page of the Knoxville Journal and Tribune, Sept. 8, 1913 noting 40,000 Knoxvillians turned out to send the Third Tennessee Infantry off to France.

Ernest E. Burtt's front page cartoon depicting the Third Tennessee's send off
Knoxville Journal and Tribune, September 7, 1917 

Discovering make and model of the fire truck: Now, feeling solidly confident on location of the photograph and fairly good about its date, I was ready to seek out expert help identifying the particular model of fire truck in the image. As I previously mentioned, I had a list of fire trucks in Knoxville's motor pool as of September 7, 1917. Therefore, I posted the above photograph on the SPAAMFAA (The Society for the Preservation and Appreciation of Antique Motor Fire Apparatus of America) Facebook page and asked if anyone could help identify the model and year. Within minutes I began receiving comments on my post and private messages from not only fire truck enthusiasts, but also people who had worked for American LaFrance, one of the nation's largest companies that built fire trucks. Soon, a retired American LaFrance employee, who is currently affiliated with the North Charleston Fire Museum in South Carolina, had the answer (it was also corroborated by other members on the page in quick succession). He informed me that the truck in the photograph was an American LaFrance, Type 10 Triple Combination Pumper with its characteristic 4-cylinder engine, short hood, and flat fenders. It came complete with gas headlamps, hooks, ladders, chemicals, and a 40-gallon water tank capable of pumping 500 gallons of water per minute and attaining a speed of 60 miles per hour. This particular model was the only one servicing Knoxville before the city fathers began purchasing the then new, American LaFrance 6-cylinder Type 12 that they would buy in bulk in 1917 as the department became fully motorized and new stations were hastily built to accommodate a rapidly expanding city thanks to the 1917 annexations.



American LaFrance Type 10 Triple Combination Pumper

American LaFrance
Knoxville notecard

This was rather exciting news because my research and the list of Knoxville's earliest fire trucks confirms that Knoxville has had only one Type 10 fire truck in its history. So, this must be a photograph of "Knoxville's" first motorized fire truck? Additional information was shared with me in the form of notecards compiled by an American LaFrace historian that includes the various apparatus ordered by Knoxville along with their registration numbers and shipment dates. With the shipment date of January 11, 1913 for the Type 10, I could cross check with Knoxville's newspapers--Daily Journal and Tribune and Sentinel--to find any articles of the truck's arrival and testing. Sure enough, I found articles noting its arrival on the evening of January 16, 1913 and first public test six days later. But what struck me from the articles is that I learned that the fire truck was not meant for Knoxville's Fire Department. Rather, it was destined for Park City, in what is now East Knoxville.

Park City was its own community that in 1913 stood on the outskirts of Knoxville's city limits. They had their own government and fire department and had placed the order for the Type 10 truck with American LaFrance. Thus, Park City's Fire Department became motorized a full year before Knoxville would purchase its first motor fire engine for its fire department. But the Type 10 fire truck would see action in Knoxville between 1913-17 as both departments often sent their firefighters and apparatus to help assist in fires. In 1917, Knoxville's city limits expanded significantly as a result of annexations that included Park City.


Knoxville Daily Journal and Tribune (January 18, 1913)

The annexations of 1917 help explain how Knoxville came to acquire the Type 10 truck originally owned by Park City. Prior to 1917, Knoxville owned 3 motorized fire trucks, 2 of which were stationed at the main headquarters at Commerce Ave. and one at Central Market Fire Hall at Emory Park (Engine Company #3). On May 15, 1917, as recorded in his diary, Knoxville's fire chief Sam B. Boyd made the decision to pull the Type 10 fire truck from Park City and bring it to Engine Company #4, located in East Knoxville at the corner of Clinch and Lithgoe Streets, so as to strategically locate the motorized fire trucks in central locations within Knoxville while the city fathers placed orders with American LaFrance for additional Type 12 trucks to cover the rapidly expanding city. In turn, Boyd ordered Knoxville's second newest steamer, the 1904 J.T. McTeer, which had been stationed with Captain McIntosh's Engine Company #4, to be sent to Park City. Though temporarily returned to the horse drawn steam era, Park City's fire department would soon receive one of the brand new Type 12 trucks.


Knoxville's 1904 steamer J.T. McTeer (American LaFrance 750 GPM, Serial 500) 
stationed at Engine Co. 4 in East Knoxville c. Oct. 1911-May 1917

Thus, I have drawn the conclusion that the American LaFrance Type 10 fire truck had been acquired by the Knoxville Fire Department for Engine Co. 4's use nearly four months before the company, as pictured in the photograph, paraded the truck on Gay Street on September 7, 1917 to send off East Tennessee's doughboys to fight in France during World War I.

Now, who are the men pictured in the photograph? I was able to identify the gentlemen in the photograph from a retired Knoxville firefighter who collected and preserved the department's history. Within that collection, were numerous photographs of Engine Company 4 with identifications of the firefighters, including a copy of the photograph shared with me by James C. McIntosh's great-granddaughter. I was able to determine for certainty looking at several photographs that the names listed for the individuals appeared to match up according to whoever had originally identified the firefighters in the images.

Lots of pieces in a jigsaw puzzle to assemble, indeed; however, social media can be a useful tool in helping piece that puzzle together.

I will be periodically sharing more of these stories of interesting finds from the course of my research in forthcoming "Digging Deeper: Researching the Fire" blogs.

All Hail to the Chief: Knoxville Fire Department's Chiefs (1870-1929)

Chief Sam B. Boyd (center, front row) c. 1900

There are a lot of discrepancies from one book to the next, including websites, as to various historical facts of the Knoxville Fire Department. In the course of my research, I have discovered that even "official" histories of the fire department are woefully inaccurate. For example, identifying the chiefs of the fire department can be quite perplexing if you do a quick search of the internet.

Take for instance the City of Knoxville's official page for the fire department. According to its "history" of past fire chiefs, there have only been 17 chiefs of the Knoxville Fire Department since 1875. Since my project does not go past the moment in time that the city's fire department motorized in 1929, I did not set out to determine whether or not most of the chiefs listed (all but 2) on the page following Chief Samuel B. Boyd's tragic death in 1929 are accurate. However, after digging deep into the city's archives, I can confidently say that there were more, many more, fire chiefs prior to Sam Boyd being "elected" fire chief in 1900 (prior to civil service in 1912, all fire department personnel were elected by the city fathers), than the 2 chiefs listed: Dr. John M. Boyd & Herman Schenk. In fact, Dr. Boyd, who was elected as fire chief on November 18, 1870, was no longer serving in that role by 1875.

In the course of my research, I have found, and have documented below, 20 Knoxville Fire Department chiefs who were elected (one, Frank A. Moses, declined) to serve since the fire department was officially organized on November 18, 1870. The Knoxville Fire Department remained a voluntary department until the city began paying its firefighters a meager annual salary in 1883. Two years later, on March 6, 1885, the Knoxville City Council passed an ordinance to make the fire department a regular, salaried department. Below I have listed each of the 20 elected fire chiefs between 1870-1900 as well as their tenure of service.

 

Knoxville Fire Department Chiefs

1.) Dr. John M. Boyd (Nov. 18, 1870 - Jan. 1873)

2.) Carrick W. Park (Jan. 1873 - Nov. 1873)

3.) Samuel T. Atkin (Nov. 1873 - Feb. 1874)

4.) Spencer Munson (Feb. 1874 - Apr. 1874)

5.) John M. Brooks  (Apr. 1874 - Feb. 1876)

6.) Frank A. Moses (Jan. 1876 elected but declined)

7.) William Coffman (Feb. 1876 - Feb. 1879)

8.) C. A. King (Feb. 1879 - Jan. 1880)

9.) Thomas A. Burrier (Jan. 1880 - Jan. 28, 1881)

10.) Stephen P. Condon (Jan. 28, 1881 - Jan. 14, 1882)

11.) James L. Housholder (Jan. 14, 1882 - Apr. 1882)

12.) Mel H. Dickson (Apr. 1882 - Feb. 9, 1883)

13.) Herman Spiro (Feb. 9, 1883 - Feb. 8, 1884)

Note: first paid fire chief, $100 a year

14.) Herman Schenk (Feb. 8, 1884 - 1886) 

Note: Paid (regular salary) Fire Dept. organized March 6, 1885, $50 a month

 

15.) Philo B. Shepherd (1886 - Mar. 23, 1889)

16.) William W. Dunn (Mar. 23, 1889 - Aug. 9, 1894)

17.) William Cross (Aug. 9, 1894 - Sept. 10, 1896)

18.) James C. McIntosh, Jr. (Sept. 10,1896 - Feb. 23, 1898)

Chief James C. McIntosh, Jr.

19.) Volney F. Gossett (Feb. 23, 1898-Feb. 23, 1900)

20.) Samuel Becket Boyd, Jr. (Feb. 23, 1900 - Mar. 29, 1929)

Chief Sam B. Boyd 1913 in Manhattan, New York

 

 

Digging Deeper: A Behind the Scenes Look into a Historian's Research

Given some recent conversations that I have had with a few of my Facebook friends about successes that I have had with using social media to research I have decided to begin a series within this blog titled "Digging Deeper: Researching the Fire," in which I will address how historians do research and why does "History" change over time using my research for my forthcoming book Knoxville's Million Dollar Fire as an example.

In the process, I will be sharing some neat things (photographs and other primary sources) that relate to Knoxville's history and its fire department that simply won't make it in the book. I will begin this new series in the week ahead with a look at using Facebook to research in the 21st century.

Knoxville's Million Dollar Fire Chief Turns 150

An "Abridged" Life & History of Knoxville's Million Dollar Fire Chief, James C. McIntosh, Jr.

Chief James C. McIntosh, Jr. (c. 1897)
Susan Cook Collection

James Campbell McIntosh, Jr. was born (Nov. 28, 1868) three years after the Civil War in the throes of a revolutionary transformation as the nation stood on the cusp of a new, modern age and yet he was a direct link to Knoxville's pioneer aristocracy. Through his mother's line, he could trace his ancestors to Knoxville's first family--the Whites. His Great-Great Grandfather was General James White, a North Carolina militia captain during the Revolutionary War who received a tract of land west of the Appalachian Mountains from his state legislature as payment for his service. After the war, White and his wife, Mary Lawson, first settled just east of Knoxville and purchased over 4000 acres of land in what is now Knox County. In 1786, the Whites moved to a 1,000 acre tract of land that they owned along the north bank of the Tennessee River at what is now Knoxville and built a fort on the hill. Soon thereafter, William Blount, appointed governor of the Southwest Territory by President George Washington, chose White's fort as the Territory's capital. White set aside a portion of his land for the creation of a territorial capital and tasked his son-in-law, Charles McClung, with laying out a grid of streets (named after streets in Philadelphia where McClung had previously lived) and sixty-four half-acre lots to be sold at $8 each at a lottery held on October 3, 1791. The lottery is credited as the beginning of Knoxville, which acquired its name from Henry Knox, George Washington's Secretary of War. Though he had an eye for business, McClung was appointed to serve as Knox County's first court clerk due to his impressive penmanship. Together, White and McClung were both present at the Tennessee constitutional convention and helped draft the state's constitution in 1796. Thus, McIntosh's great-great grandfather (James White) and great-grandfather (Charles McClung) were not only Knoxville's earliest founding fathers, but also among those who were the architects of Tennessee's statehood. 




Knoxville as laid out by James White and Charles McClung for a 1791 lottery

In 1805, Charles McClung and his wife, Margaret White (the eldest child of James and Mary Lawson White), moved west of the city and into their new Federal-style brick country home, Statesview (built by Thomas Hope, architect of the Ramsey House), just off the Kingston Pike, which McClung had surveyed and planned to Campbell's Station. Though Charles continued to serve as the Knox County court clerk until shortly before his death in 1835, he had a penchant for business and soon partnered with his brother in a general store. Before long, the McClung family established themselves as Knoxville's wealthiest merchant princes.  Their daughter, Margaret Ann Malinda McClung (McIntosh's grandmother), married Judge Ebeneezer Alexander (McIntosh's grandfather), a promising lawyer and state judge who was regarded as one of Antebellum Tennessee's best jurists. 

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.

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.


Marjorie McIntosh, First Presbyterian Cemetery

First Presbyterian Church and Cemetery where many of Knoxville's first families rest

Young James Campbell McIntosh endured a difficult time following his father's death as guardians sought to keep a watchful eye over him and his inheritance (a subject of several lawsuits in Chancery Court as McIntosh came of legal age). He desired to follow in his father's footsteps and thus enrolled in a four-year medical school in Philadelphia, considered to be the best in the United States. After graduation, he returned to Knoxville and quickly built his own practice. However, he wanted to further his education at one of the finest medical schools in Europe. He settled on a three-year course at a school in Paris where he acquired a superior knowledge of medicine and the human anatomy, as well as honed his skills as he mastered the most advanced techniques or best practices in his field. He returned to Knoxville in the early 1850s and opened an office on the southeast corner of Gay and Church Street where he quickly established himself as Knoxville's most prominent physician (he later founded the successful drug firm of Mansfield & McIntosh). By 1860, Dr. McIntosh's assets included $8000 of personal wealth and real estate. Ten years later he had managed to amass more than $13,000 of wealth.

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. 


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.


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.  



1880 Census reveals 11 year old James C. McIntosh, Jr.
living in the home of Herbert W. Hall and his half-sister 



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.



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."




James C. McIntosh, Jr. in passenger seat next to the driver.
West Knoxville Wagon Co. (c. 1904-08) 



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.





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.




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.





Knoxville's Fire Department, 1897. Chief McIntosh is seated in the center of the front row



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.





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.

McIntosh Joins U.S. Volunteers, Knoxville Sentinel (August 25, 1899)

When McIntosh returned to the United States and Knoxville in the early summer of 1901, he found the ever-shifting political winds in the city more favorable for a Democrat as Samuel Heiskell was elected to a second term as mayor. His name was placed at the top of the list of candidates to fill the next vacancy in the fire department. When fireman Pryor Davis refused an order from the chief, he was immediately sacked and replaced with McIntosh. In 1904, when Captain William F. Maxey of the West Knoxville Wagon Company was killed in a fire on Gay Street, the Board of Public Works elected McIntosh to succeed the late Maxey. The Democratic Knoxville Sentinel seized the opportunity to take a swipe at the Republicans when the paper thanked the B.P.W. for its decision in righting a wrong caused by Republican bent on a political vendetta. The Sentinel lauded McIntosh as "one of the best fire fighters the city has ever had."

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."

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.

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."

A tea cup pulled from the ruins of the Million Dollar Fire
(Museum of East Tennessee History)

James C. McIntosh in his retirement
Susan Cook Collection

Death came for "the fearless firefighter" in the spring of 1939. He had been severely ill for weeks, which necessitated being hospitalized for surgery at Fort Sanders. But he never recovered following the surgery and soon died on March 15, 1939 at the age of 70. James C. McIntosh, Jr. was buried at Woodlawn Cemetery in South Knoxville. Nearly fifteen years would pass, before he was reunited with his bride, Sarah Ann. 




James C. McIntosh, Jr. Obituary, Knoxville Sentinel (March 16, 1939)

 

James C. and Sarah Ann McIntosh, Woodlawn Cemetery