Quick Response Team
We Were Cops Once . . . and Young

Brief History of the Baltimore Police Department Quick Response Teams
By Ret Lt. Joe Key

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

One factor that caused a measure of resentment/jealousy by command and the rank and file was the portrayal of SWAT cops in the 70's television program “SWAT.” Even the name connoted violence; i.e., to crush a fly with a single swat. The program exaggerated the image of the operators as being glory boys whose main job was to lift weights, run endless loops through obstacle courses, jump off of buildings or out of perfectly good helicopters, suck down copious amounts of CS gas without blinking, play with various guns, and generally look good for the cameras when they leaped out of the back of a large, black, armored, very menacing looking, truck with guns blazing. Admittedly, some of those activities–excluding jumping out of trucks with guns blazing, etc.–were a necessary part of the job and attracted candidates who were drawn to those types of endeavors. That image, however, served to heighten the intensity of the already very intense interdepartmental power struggles, political patronage, and turf protecting in the command ranks, which made launching the QRT program damn near impossible. Finally, limited funds and the necessity of committing manpower to street crime reduction operations determined the nature, quality, and quantity of equipment that could be purchased; the time and manpower that could be committed to the training program; and the deployment operational strategies of the teams on the street.

Although the “SWAT” television program is no longer on the air, the image it perpetrated still survives to a limited extent and still affects the public’s image of SWAT. As proof of this, consider that any nationally televised SWAT type incident will invariably result in outcries from various and sundry community “leaders” regarding the militarization of police departments. Interdepartmental power struggles, patronage assignments, and turf protecting, however, are very much reduced, albeit not absent, in today’s department. This positive change is due in part to the record of the QRT’s performance over the years; in part to the ascension to command ranks by officers who came on and worked with officers who were assigned to the teams; and in part to the increasingly violent situations occasioned by the prevalence of narcotics driven crimes, mass murders by active shooters, and the very real specter of terrorism. Limited funds and the requirement of committing manpower to street crime reduction operations will, by necessity, always affect SWAT training, operations, and the purchase of equipment.

IN THE BEGINNING

By emphasizing the resistance of many of the command staff to the idea of having SWAT in the department, the door is opened for the reader to wonder how I, a brand new sergeant, came to be exposed to the inner workings of the top levels of the department. In the police totem pole, I was down around the toe level. In the early summer of 1975, I was assigned by Colonel Bishop Robinson, Chief of Patrol, to write the General Order authorizing SWAT and the regulations pertaining to the resolution of sniper/barricade/hostage situations. That assignment morphed into writing the justification for SWAT, its operational procedures, training program, and selection protocols. I didn’t have any operational background that qualified me to undertake those tasks. I spent countless hours studying foreign and domestic terrorist incidents, military manuals, other agencies’ SOP’s, General Orders, and training programs to try to put it all together into a cohesive program. Doing that research and finalizing the program meant that I was frequently involved in strategy sessions in the Tac Commander’s office, Captain Joe Bolesta, a strong advocate for the teams. He was a man who was not always completely circumspect in describing the efforts to stymy the founding of the teams by a well entrenched opposition faction in the department’s command staff. Those meetings, and having numerous training sessions cancelled, sometimes after they had begun, because the Deputy Commissioner of Operations thought they were a waste of money, gave me a unique perspective of the breadth of the opposition to starting the program and the determination of its supporters to overcome that opposition.

At the very top of the totem pole of supporters was Commissioner Donald Pomerleau. Those that worked under him or knew him by reputation would assume that if he wanted it done, it would be done. When it came to implementing his policies, however, just below him was Deputy Commissioner of Operations, Frank Battaglia, a man with the reputation of being a tough, old line, street-smart cop. Battaglia was adamantly opposed to SWAT and, at the very least, was not overly disposed to support requests for money for training, equipment, etc. DC Battiglia was a very powerful political figure in the police department and the direct superior of Colonel Robinson. Battiglia’s political ties stemmed from the Italian community and particularly to the former Mayor of Baltimore, Tommy D’Alesandro, the father of current California Congresswoman Nancy Pelosi. The “Sons of Italy” social club, of which Battiglia was the head, contained many members who were command officers in the Baltimore Police Department and many local politicians.

To illustrate the sometimes visceral nature of the opposition the majority of the “Sons” held for the SWAT concept, one of those command officers, a district commander who was a large man known for his pugilistic abilities and proclivities, called Captain Bolesta and told him that if Key kept criticizing how his troops performed in an armed man barricade in which a cop was shot by other cops, he was going to “punch his lights out.” While I took the threat seriously, I had no choice but to continue talking about the incident and the cluster-foul up it was. The incident involved a shooter armed with a Browning Automatic Rifle knock-off. It had occurred a couple of months prior to the Lombard and Carey debacle and was a major part of the rationale I was using to convince the upper echelon that a special unit was needed to handle those types of situations. The major’s threat indicated to me that I was pushing the right buttons, so I continued talking about the incident with renewed gusto. I also told Captain Bolesta that, in accordance with the law, if confronted by someone who I reasonably believed posed a threat of serious injury or death, I would use whatever weapons necessary to vigorously defend myself. Those weren’t the exact words I used, but close enough.

Colonel Robinson, who was also a very powerful political figure within the department, was a strong supporter of the SWAT concept and worked diligently to implement the program. The two factions were sometimes engaged in a struggle for control of the department and QRT was frequently caught in the middle. QRT would never have gotten off the ground when it did without the efforts of Captain Joe Bolesta and Colonel Bishop Robinson.

The Quick Response Team, now SWAT, began its storied journey in 1976. Prior to that, dynamic entries and other SWAT type procedures were undertaken by members of the Emergency Vehicle Unit, available officers assigned to the Tactical Section, and/or various district personnel, none of whom had any meaningful training in carrying out those kinds of functions. The primary method for going in and getting an armed bad guy was for whatever cops that were on the scene to shoot the house full of holes and then the EVU guys would knock the door down and drag said bad guy out. Sometimes they would be accompanied by members of the command staff, particularly if the news media were present. The concept of QRT, modeled after other cities’ SWAT, was conceived to institute control of those types of incidents with well trained and disciplined officers.

The acronym QRT didn’t come about until shortly before Lombard and Carey, which occurred April 16th, 1976. The name was chosen by Colonel Robinson after suggestions from TAC personnel were solicited. The name was chosen partially because of the aggressive SWAT image portrayed on the television program. The QRT opposition faction and some city government officials thought the name SWAT conjured up all kinds of potentially evil and horrendous acts by trigger happy warrior wannabes. On a more practical level, Colonel Robinson wanted to distinguish the BPD from LAPD, NY, etc.; thus, QRT. In 2007 the team members voted, as was their right, to finally be called SWAT.

There were no SWAT units, formal training by the Baltimore Police Department, or SWAT operations until 1976. Once I had been given the job of writing the G.O., etc., in early summer of 1975, my squad and I began physical fitness and some operational training on our own time. Lieutenant Daryl Duggins put together a rappelling program, which he gave to various members of his A Platoon, including my squad, A-3. That training was also conducted off-duty. Duggins was, and still is, a much revered leader; a back to basics, no nonsense former Marine who did not tolerate hijinks from the sometimes rowdy youths under his command. One of the first rappelling training sessions he arranged was an approximately seventy foot drop from the Cedar Avenue Bridge. Lieutenant Duggins had tried two methods of rappelling–the single rope favored by the Marine Corp and the double rope favored by sane people. Several of us tried the single rope first, including one or two former Marines. As we were blowing the fire out on our leather gloves we reached the unanimous decision that the double rope was best. Of course, this was all well before fast roping techniques were developed.

The first approved on-duty training occurred in July of 1975. Members of A and B platoons were sent down to Fort Meade to be trained by Army Marksmanship Training Unit 1 for a two week counter sniper course. It was the first training in which the M-16's were used. Although some of the days were twelve hour days, the troops were delighted to have any training and participated with gusto. The next scheduled on-duty training was in February of 1976. A-3 squad was sent to the one week FBI SWAT school. It was held at Gunpowder and had one day of entry problems down at the Army’s Ordnance Road facility. It involved several other police departments and was well presented by the local FBI SWAT team. The attached photo is A-3 squad during that training out at the Gunpowder Range. The two EVU men did not participate in the training. From left to right (standing) are: EVU Officer Roland Andrews, EVU Sgt. Dave Bryant, Officers Roger Rose, James Siebor, Gary Green, Mike Speedling, Kelly Allen, Lee Baker, Norm Bleakly, Andy Gersey. From left to right (kneeling) are: Sgt. Joe Key, Steve Grenfell, George Smith, Mike Hurm, Lenny Rummo, Ed Schillo, and Bob Letmate. Roger Rose broke his arm badly doing a forward roll with his rifle trying to take a cover position during the training and wasn’t able to continue in the teams.

I was scheduled to begin training an A Platoon squad in the first departmentally sanctioned SWAT training on Monday, April 19, 1976. The date is etched in my memory because the worst shootout in the Department’s history occurred on Good Friday, April 16, 1976. In that incident one officer, James Halcomb, was killed and five others were seriously injured. It would be repetitious to go into any detail about the incident in this writing. For further information click on link: 39 Minutes of Terror The most important result of the fiasco of the department’s response to the sniper, John Earl Williams, was that it very much softened, at least for a period, the opposition to SWAT and the necessity for having a SWAT unit. The incident also served to awaken in some members of Tactical the realization that being an operator in a SWAT team required a great deal of work and personal sacrifice. After the dust had somewhat settled, Commissioner Pomerleau made it very clear, very clear, that he wanted the program to proceed.

Another outcome of the incident that was relevant to the history of the QRT was that it was the first time any squad had ever functioned as a SWAT team. A-3 squad was working that night. The training they had done on their own time and the FBI training permitted them to carry out SWAT functions, although they had no standing as a Quick Response Team because the order had not been signed and, as a result, they had not received QRT certification. The SWAT functions carried out that night were: support and observers for the counter sniper, EVU Officer Bob Powell; a gas delivery team headed by Lieutenant Duggins; an evacuation team to retrieve Officer Halcomb (one squad member and a Western District officer, Frank Stallings, were able to retrieve him, while the others provided cover fire); and, once Officer Halcomb was out of the line of fire and Williams had been forced out of the house by a barrage of suppression/cover fire, the evacuation team members entered and cleared the house. The only names of A-3 squad personnel that were there that night that I’ve been able to determine to a certainty were: Gersey and Green, CS support; Rummo, Schillo, Seibor, Hurm, evacuation and entry teams.   Given the team members minimal training and lack of SWAT operational experience, they performed well in an extraordinarily difficult situation. Their performance demonstrated that SWAT training, even if rudimentary by today’s standards, and SWAT teams were a necessary element in handling this type of critical event.

The first Tactical officers to receive QRT certification did so in October 1977, the same time the General Order was finally signed and published. The attached photo shows the members of that group. The members shown in the photo are from left to right: Colonel Ron Mullen, Captain John Schmitt (Colonel Mullen and Captain Schmidt did not undergo the training), Steve Grenfell, Bob Letmate, Neal Hairston, Dave Hollingsworth, Burch Schwabline, Denis Dean, Jim Giza, Bob Franklin, John Maguire, Bob Foltz, Doug Bryson, Matt Immler, Mike Mulligan, Al Erhardt, Tony Garcia, Lt. Joe Key, Lt. John Wagner.

The selection process to become a functioning member of the teams included passing a minimal physical fitness test, a forty hour training course, an interview with current team members, and a psychological exam. The first operational members were picked from existing Tactical Section personnel. None could be eliminated because of failing any part of the selection criteria, including the psychological exam. This was not my decision, it came from on high against my strenuous objection. In those first days, a number of the men assigned to Tactical were there because some higher up put them there as a reward for extraordinary performance above and beyond the call of duty in the fine art of ass kissing and/or being related to said higher-up. They weren’t there to do the job, nor, in many cases, could they. Those men that were issued the first QRT Certificates and Pins qualified in all of the categories and marked the beginning of what could be considered, at the time, a reasonably trained and operational SWAT team. As the teams progressed, men came to Tactical because they wanted to be members of SWAT and wanted it badly enough to meet the standards. As the SWAT concept matured, the selection process became more selective and the team members more capable.

The physical fitness test was loosely modeled after the Marine Corps Squad Leader training program. The minimum number of pull-ups to qualify was five, which received twenty points. Each additional pull-up resulted in three points up to a maximum of fifteen pull-ups, which was awarded fifty points. The minimum number of push-ups and sit-ups (no time limit) was twenty and the maximum was fifty. Twenty of either exercise garnered twenty points with each additional repetition earning one point up to a total of fifty points for each exercise. The final physical requirement was to run one mile in eight minutes or less. The maximum score of fifty was given for running the mile in six minutes or less, with one point added for each four seconds under the eight minute minimum. To qualify for the training program a candidate had to achieve all of the minimums and have an overall score of one hundred points. As I said, in the beginning no member of Tactical was excluded from operating on a team because of failing any of the selection requirements. Some of the initial teams, prior to the certification in 1977, were staffed by personnel who could only hang on the pull-up bar and barely eke out as few as ten push-ups or sit-ups. They functioned but certainly not anywhere near the level of current operators nor the level that should have been mandated for their safety and the requirements of the missions they undertook.

My criticism is not of the courage and dedication of most of those officers. After all, they undertook the same kind of dangerous situations that later teams would face and they did it with woefully inadequate equipment and minimal training. Any criticism is directed solely toward those members of command that were protecting or attempting to increase their personal fiefdoms by insisting that everyone needed to have a “slice of the pie.” Lt. Duggins and I were told that specifically by a Tac captain, who replaced Captain Bolesta as the Commanding Officer of Tactical. Duggins’ response was classic Duggins: his jaw tightened, his eyes narrowed, his voice became gravelly, and through clinched teeth, he said, “I will run my f...ing platoon the way I see fit. The day I’m told to put some do-nothing, tub of s..t into an operation, somebody’s going to get his badge shoved up his ass.” That account is accurate in all aspects. My response to the comment and to the captain’s sputtering, whining reaction was to laugh, which did not endear me to the good captain. The captain’s reason for his slice of the pie philosophy was that, by letting everyone in Tactical function as an active QRT member regardless of competency, he lessened the chance of offending some departmental or political VIP who was responsible for assigning his/her protégée slug to QRT.

That captain was constantly in the business of advancing his fine self up the departmental ladder by any means necessary. He imagined that his journey up that ladder somehow included taking the programs or justifications I wrote and having his secretary retype them for his signature. I never protested because my concern was that the program advance and, if having the captain’s signature on those documents, assisted in that process, it was fine with me. In the end, none of that helped him advance, he retired as a captain. As for Duggins, he didn’t care about advancing his career. He was assigned to Tactical based only on his reputation and merit. Command officers took him on at their peril: he was a brilliant writer and fearless. Commissioner Pomerleau, himself a retired Marine Colonel with a well deserved reputation of being a hard charger, admired and respected Duggins. This was, in part, because of Duggins’ stellar reputation in the department and, in part, because of Duggins’ service in the Marines, including surviving the Chosin Reservoir Campaign.  

The slice of the pie the Tactical captain was talking about was a very risky, dangerous business in both street operations and training. The slices were being handed out, in some cases, to men who had no interest in being genuinely qualified and capable of undertaking the hard work necessary to become even minimally proficient in the job of a SWAT operator. One such individual, who personified the captain’s flawed slice of the pie theory, was the sergeant he picked to replace me as the supervisor of A-3 squad, when I was transferred to the EVU section to train and run QRT full time. He was selected to increase the arrest statistics of the squad. He later distinguished himself by jack-potting not only himself but several members of the squad. He accomplished this by implementing a contest wherein squad members who made the most arrests received time off. The contest was found to have racial overtones, in addition to the obvious violations of departmental regulations. The sergeant was eventually forced to resign because of allegations that he was selling arrest record information to a local company in violation of federal law. From the beginning, he had zero interest in becoming a member of SWAT and even less desire to pass the minimum physical fitness test. As would be expected, he miserably failed all of the physical fitness qualification tests.

One training incident that sergeant was involved in serves to make the point about the necessity to select the best of the best as team operators. I had the pleasure of “rescuing” his fine, fat self in a rappelling exercise out at the Gunpowder rappelling tower. To his credit, he forced himself off the simulated helicopter pad even though he was scared of heights. He was prompted to take the plunge by being told he had to do it or he would be sent back to Tac. I referred to him as being fat because that fact was part of the reason he became hung up five feet under the pad and forty-five feet from the ground. I was alerted to his situation by his squeals and hurled obscenities decrying his unpleasant, to him, circumstance; said circumstance was mildly amusing to the rest of us. He was, contrary to specific instructions, wearing a loose sweatshirt to cover his very prominent mid-section. The sweatshirt got caught in the carabiner and twisted around the line; thus, locking him on the line and leaving him dangling above the ground. I told him that it was time for lunch and that I would think about how to get him down over lunch, but he loudly and emotionally insisted that I get him down. His actions and volume while screaming invectives at me and others, some of whom were displaying a lack of sensitivity by openly laughing at his situation, convinced me he was, indeed, in mortal peril from the immediate potential of suffering a stroke. I then dropped down next to him with knife in hand. I told him that the only way I could figure to get him to the ground was to cut the line. Again, he very loudly and emotionally told me that he just didn’t think that was the best option. As I recall, in expressing his opinions about his predicament and my response to it, he actually used some obscene language directed toward me, which included statements regarding the legitimacy of my birth. Having a thick skin, I ignored his misdirected and undeserved insults and tied him off with another carabiner and line. He was then lifted up enough by several team members, who pulled mightily on the secondary line to achieve that result, to take the pressure off the original line. When they had pulled him high enough, I was able to cut the sweatshirt away from the line. He then completed his trip to the ground. Duggins and I used that sweatshirt in training future classes to make the point that wearing non approved clothing had potentially dangerous consequences.

On a serious note, while we had some fun at the chunky sergeant’s expense, it was just a training exercise. In a real situation his failure to abide by basic safety rules and his lack of the physical wherewithal to climb the rope back to the point he could have freed the jammed shirt would have endangered himself, his team, and the operation. This incident demonstrates the folly of the theory that everyone should have a slice of the pie, regardless of their inability to fulfill the absolutely necessary requirements to become a member of a SWAT team. Further, it determines to a certainty the potentially catastrophic consequences of that theory.

The first certified QRT member’s training course was based on a program that was a patchwork of a combination of one week courses I taught combined with the course taught by the FBI. The course included: team composition and functions; individual functions within a team; necessary equipment; basic room entry techniques; scenario practical problems; and first aid. Rappelling and weapons familiarization training and qualifications were taught separately in one and two day programs. The day began at 0700 hours with calisthenics. Classes began at 0800 and continued until 1600 with a half hour for lunch. At 1600 hours troops suited up and ran to the gas chamber, where they had to put on their M-17 masks after two mini CS grenades were ignited. They stayed in the chamber until it was certain that the masks had been put on correctly and that they worked properly. Each member was then required to take off the mask and clearly recite his name, entry on duty date, sequence number, and, depending on how anxious he was to exit the chamber, his social security number, birthday, number and names of children, etc. After the gas chamber, the squad would run the military’s obstacle course and then back to the classroom. Usually, clock-out time was around 1800 hours.

On one occasion when we were running the obstacle course, the skies opened up and it started pouring. Additionally, thunder and lightning settled right on top of us. As we started running back to the classroom, Bob Letmate remarked that the good news was that it couldn’t get any worse. He picked a terrible time to say it, because the words were no more out of his mouth than what had been merely pouring became buckets and two lightning strikes hit trees within fifty yards of us. They were so close that the hair on my arms and head stood up. The strikes had a very positive effect on those members who were normally somewhat reticent about running. It was a full out sprint back to the classroom and not accomplished in a military manner.

The interview process was not in place when the first Tactical officers were SWAT trained and became operational. As new officers were assigned to Tactical, the process was implemented and became more refined as time passed. The interview had the same questions asked of every candidate. The questions ranged from why the person wanted to become a member to technical questions involving knowledge of weapons, etc. The selection board was made up of certified QRT members and a certified QRT team leader. Supervisors were not required to be certified at that time; again, not my choice. To be selected to go to the training program, a candidate had to be approved by the majority of the board. The board was still not fully operational by the time I left Tac in October 1977.

The psychological evaluation was started shortly after Lombard and Carey in April 1976. Psychology Consultants Associated was chosen to develop an evaluation for prospective members of the teams. Dr. Gill Claperton, the head of the organization at the time, Dr. Ken Sachs, the current head, and Dr. Dan Stern rode with me for a few nights to get a feel for what cops did in the city. We didn’t encounter any QRT situations, but they did enhance their understanding of the world of BPD cops by being introduced to the night denizens and life in the areas of Pennsylvania Avenue in the Western, North Avenue and Harford Road then in the Northern, and Reisterstown Road in the Northwestern District. A good time was had by all and I escaped without being committed. The evaluation, in addition to the normal battery of tests to determine potential mental problems, was designed to identify officers who could sit, stand, or lie in a position for hours in weather varying from blistering hot to sub-freezing cold without losing concentration and, at the same time, being prepared to jump into the middle of a catastrophe in a split-second while exhibiting absolute control.

As far as equipping the teams, members from both A and B Platoons chipped in and bought the rappelling lines and gloves with which we trained. Later, when the teams became operational, they bought surplus canteens, a small pack, web gear, and the dark blue “bread truck driver” overalls that became the first uniforms of SWAT. They had to sew on the BPD shoulder patches and color them with permanent, black magic markers. The BPD did supply the team members with baseball hats with the BPD emblem on it, but, again, they had to color it black.

Regarding other equipment, the only protective vests available were WWI era Spooner Flack Jackets. They didn’t stop bullets, but, if someone heaved a low powered WWI type grenade that hit far enough away, the vests offered some level of protection, ditto for a sniper throwing rocks but hopefully not shooting them out of a slingshot. The firearms the teams were initially equipped with were .30 caliber Plainfield carbines which, according to a study done by Paul Davis, had a one in eight failure rate. My requests earlier and Davis’ request, accompanied by his study, to replace the carbines were rejected by Commissioner Pomerleau who reportedly said he had carried one in WWII and Korea and it had served him admirably. The Plainfields issued to QRT were cheap imitations of the Winchester carbines the military carried. In addition to the carbines, QRT cops carried their issued revolvers and at least one team member would have a Remington 870, 12 gage shotgun. M-16's could be checked out from the EVU on approval of the On Scene Commander and dependent on his/her assessment of the severity of the incident. The first actual deployment of the M-16's occurred on July 4, 1975. Sergeant Frank Russo and I were deployed as overwatch and security on the Domino Sugar towers across from Fort McHenry where President Gerald Ford was addressing the fifth annual “Our Country” celebration. I have no records as to when they began to be used in SWAT street situations. The 5.56mm Mini-14's were introduced in 1981 and replaced the carbines.

As written earlier, the first actual SWAT type operation wherein small units were deployed for specific missions occurred at Lombard and Carey and was carried out successfully by a team with minimal training and no SWAT operational experience. After finishing with my debriefing by Colonel Robinson and Captain Bolesta at approximately 2:00 a.m., I was ordered to be back in Tac Headquarters by 7:00 the next morning to put together two cars which would begin patrolling that day from 1800 to 0200 hours. The cars were designated as 1991A and 1991B. They were outfitted with a WW1 footlocker type box that contained one .30 caliber carbine with two loaded magazines and a carton of .30 caliber carbine ammunition, two Spooner Vests, a box of 12 gage .00 buck and a box of 12 gage rifled slugs, six CS mini-grenades, a first aid kit, and sundry other items that I can’t recall. There was also a box that contained a shotgun. The officers were to be deployed only to sniper/barricade situations. The duty was performed by A-3 squad members exclusively for a month or so, until other members of A and B Platoons completed training and were qualified, albeit not certified. The cars were phased out around 1986. A large van replaced them, but it had to be picked up at headquarters and brought to the scene of an incident. According to current SWAT operator and trainer, Steve Coughlan, the cars became operational again in 1995 after the North Hollywood, CA shootout at the bank. They were phased out again in 1997, at which time the teams went back to the large van/truck concept.

The next and much more successful SWAT operation occurred two weeks to the day after Lombard and Carey. A recently released inmate from an Illinois prison came home on Ann Street and found his partner in the arms of another man. He went berserk and started shooting up the neighborhood with a .22 rifle. Southeast District officers secured the outer perimeter and called QRT. The 1991 cars responded along with other members of A Platoon. Captain Bolesta was On Scene Commander and set up his command post at the corner of Fleet and Ann Streets. He deployed a counter sniper with a spotter, gas teams, and an entry team. CS gas was deployed from shotgun launchers and a 37mm gas launcher. The gas eventually drove the subject out of the house. When he came out, he had the rifle. He pointed it toward the counter sniper position and was shot by said officer with a .243 Winchester model 70 rifle. The officer that fired the shot a member of EVU CP11. An evacuation team went down and carried the individual from the scene. An entry team, made then made entry, and cleared the house.

This was a text book operation that deployed every Tactical asset in the way they were meant to be used. The G.O. was still more than a year away from being implemented, but Lombard and Carey had taught hard lessons to both command and district officers. Commissioner Pomerleau was quoted in the Sun as saying that the shooting was the way the BPD would handle such incidents, “. . . one shot, one kill.” The Fleet and Ann Street incident served to convince some of the doubters and nay sayers in the department, command and officers alike, that the SWAT concept could work and could save police officers’ lives. The journey forward would still be extremely difficult and fraught with roadblocks erected by members of command who saw SWAT as infringing on their territories and/or potentially reducing their time in the spotlight. Regardless, SWAT was on its way and the two incidents in the spring of 1976 provided a solid foundation as to why the concept was necessary and how well it could work when implemented correctly.

QRT/SWAT GROWS UP

In doing research for this writing, I spoke to Dr. Ken Sachs, President, Psychology Consultants Associated, who said that the evaluations PCA still does for potential SWAT candidates show that they exhibit the traits of elite professionals, that they want to be part of the best of the best, that they like the program’s tough, enhanced training, and are very physically fit. He went on to say he is very impressed by their quality and that he admires them. As written earlier, the intent of the evaluation, in addition to the normal battery of tests to determine potential mental problems, was to identify officers who could withstand extreme conditions for long periods of time without losing concentration and, at the same time, being prepared to jump into the middle of a catastrophe in a split-second while exhibiting absolute control.

Those are not routine qualifications nor are they the traits of ordinary men. As an example of an incident that showed the absolute necessity for those traits, the longest lasting barricade/shooting incident in the history of the Baltimore Police Department occurred on May 11 and 12 of 1987. Team members Bob Edwards, Ray Jones, Steve Kuhn, Bob Letmate, Lee Towers, and Sam Tress confronted an armed, coke snorting, bad guy named Jarrod Clayton, who had taken several hostages in an incident that came to be known simply as Chase Street. Clayton had been stopped by an Eastern District officer at around 4:00 p.m. on the 11^th for a field interview. He had drugs and two guns on him. He ran from the officer, firing a shot as he escaped. He broke into 1703 Chase Street and took eleven people hostage. Sam Tress, who had been switched from running QRT to supervising the Hostage Negotiation Team, began negotiations shortly after the command post became operational. QRT entered the house at approximately 7:30 p.m. The operation ended in a gunfight and fire, which destroyed the house a little after 7:00 the next morning.

The high temperature on the 11^th was 89^o and the building was a three story row house with no air conditioning. The team was fully suited up with heavy vests that contained front and back ceramic plates, M-17 gas masks, CS mini-grenades, and extra ammunition. Tress, Towers, and Edwards were armed with shotguns and Letmate had a Mini-14. Jones and Kuhn carried their issued .38 caliber revolvers and recently purchased ballistic shields. The team spent the next approximately twelve hours in the miserably hot house until the gunfight and a fire ended the operation.

Regarding the bunker, Sam Tress, when he was the QRT supervisor and trainer, had ordered two ballistic bunkers for the teams some months earlier. He received some push back from a City Hall bean counter, who told him that he, the bean counter, had found some bunkers that were cheaper. Sam asked him if they met the specifications he had submitted and, when the man said no, Sam told him pointedly to buy the ones he had ordered. The bunkers had arrived a month or so before Chase Street. One of the bunkers took two hits and another took one, saving team members’ lives. It was the first recorded incident in the U.S. where a bunker had taken fire in an actual operation.

The On Scene Commander, Major Barnes, gave the green-light for the sniper, Dave Gunter, to take a shot when he could. Gunter, who knew the man was reportedly armed and had fired a shot at a cop, had seen the man moving around in the house, but could not take the shot because he did not have the green-light at that time. After he received the go ahead from Barnes, Deputy Commissioner Ron Mullen, who called the command post from his home, restricted the order to fire only if the man appeared in a window with a gun in his hand. Gunter never had a clear shot after that. Had the green-light been issued earlier, Pomerleau’s previously stated “one shot, one kill” policy could have ended the affray fairly quickly. The team was ordered in at 7:00 p.m. Tress became part of the team in an attempt to conduct face to face negotiations after the team was fired upon early in the evening. His negotiations resulted in the hostages being released throughout the night and early morning until the last hostage was set free at approximately 4:00 a.m. The EVU began deploying gas after the last hostage was freed. A total of approximately twenty-five to thirty rounds of both ferret and 37mm CS gas munitions were lobbed into the house. The CS had no effect on Clayton, who had ingested approximately 80 caps of cocaine during the night and morning. The team assaulted the third floor, where Clayton was barricaded in the bathroom, at approximately 7:00 a.m. Clayton fired continuously through the walls at the team. At one point he appeared, said he had been shot, and fired directly at them. The team returned fire, hitting him several times. Kuhn threw one CS mini that hit the bathroom door frame, where Clayton was holed up. It bounced down the hallway into a pile of trash and clothing, which ignited the fire that eventually burned the house down. The fire forced the team to exfiltrate the house. They had to run past the bathroom where Clayton was and used the shields and suppression fire to execute their exfiltration safely. The gunfight lasted on and off for approximately fifteen minutes. Clayton fired approximately forty rounds throughout the event. Even though they had been fired upon earlier, the team had not returned fire until they engaged Clayton directly during the last effort to take him into custody. Clayton was struck numerous times, but, thanks to the ballistic shields, no operators were hit.

The burning of the house resulted in the department banning the use of incendiary chemical munitions. Also, the department refused to reimburse team members for the speed loaders they had used, because they were not departmentally issued. If Pomerleau’s “one shot, one kill” policy had been in effect from the beginning, Chase Street would have been over before the team was deployed. All of the team members were awarded Silver Stars for their courageous actions. The memo from Tac Commander, Major Regis Raffensberger, recommending them for the Medal of Honor is attached.  

Another example of team operators working for a long period of time in extreme conditions, which were the polar (pun intended) opposite of the those existing during Chase Street, occurred on February 16, 1994. Counter snipers Mike Mulligan, a QRT plank holder from 75, Bob Foltz, another plank holder from 77, and Jan Richmond lay prone in the snow in freezing temperatures in a hostage situation taking turns off and on their rifles from approximately 10:30 p.m. to approximately 3:30 a.m. At that time the bad guy held the baby he had been holding hostage in front of the apartment window and was attempting to put a pistol in her mouth. Mulligan fired a single shot from a position approximately seventy-five yards away and at a steep downward angle from the suspect. The man was hit in the center of his face, but, because his face was slightly turned, the bullet exited below his ear. After Mulligan fired the shot, the suspect got back on the phone with negotiator Sam Tress and said, “you m.....f...ers shot me.” He made the statement with half his jaw shot off. His voice reflected that, for him, unpleasant circumstance, because his words were, in Tress’s description of the call, quite “jumbled.” John Wagner, On Scene Commander, then ordered the QRT operators, previously deployed at the suspect’s door, to make an entry. The team breached the door and one of the entry team officers, Curtis Willis, fired two shots striking the subject twice. The subject had shot the baby, but she survived. Both Chase Street and this incident served to validate PCA’s evaluation criteria and proved the point that the requirements for being a member of the teams were not the routine qualifications nor traits of ordinary men.

I have recounted violent SWAT situations to emphasize points regarding the difficulty of overcoming departmental resistance to the SWAT concept, the consequences arising therefrom, the validity of testing procedures, the evolution of the teams, and the acceptance of the necessity for those teams. In reality the mandate for SWAT teams is that they exercise complete control over a situation in order to handle it with minimal violence. If, however, violence becomes necessary, the training of the operators and the quality of their equipment must be able to instantly bring overwhelming force to resolve the threat. Today’s Baltimore Police Department SWAT teams are more than capable of fulfilling that mandate and resolving any threat.

I spoke at length to Steve Coughlan, a member of QRT/SWAT since 1994 and a current trainer for the teams. He took a great deal of time from his busy life, including caring for his wife and brand new baby, to describe the current training, equipment, and operational strategies of today’s BPD SWAT teams. Steve Kuhn, although retired from the BPD, also provided much information. The teams are trained, equipped, and operate in a world about which us old-timers, in our wildest fantasies back in 1976, couldn’t have even dreamed.

The physical fitness test’s minimal requirements and passing the interview process are now strictly observed. No officer can attend the three week SWAT course without running a mile and one-half in twelve and one-half minutes or less, doing a minimum of five pull-ups, and fifty push-ups and sit-ups. The test is now being modified to include, in addition to the standard physical fitness measures, job related functions.

Once selected, the SWAT trainers will host a three week class that consists of five days of classroom work and ten days of various practicums, including scenario training with issued weapons using Simunitions. The majority of attendees are from the BPD, but other agencies and military personnel frequently attend. Once the attendees have passed the course, a few of the top candidates are selected to fill vacancies in the teams. Those men are then sent for a five day course to qualify them on the M-4 rifles that each team member is issued. Once they are serving in the teams, an operator can request to be trained as a sniper/observer. If selected, that member is then sent to a three week course hosted by either the Maryland State Police or Baltimore County Police. Occasionally, the BPD SWAT trainers will host the class. All sniper/observers are, therefore, also qualified as SWAT operators. To keep their skills honed to perfection, the sniper/observers practice twice monthly.

The equipment the teams now have is the best of the best. Each operator is assigned a 5.56 caliber M-4, which is a short barreled rifle that is effective both as an entry weapon and at moderately long distances. They also have their issued Glock .40 caliber pistols. They must qualify with every weapon they use at or above the ninety percentile level on advanced firearms qualifications courses specifically designed for special operations personnel. Sniper/observers must shoot a one hundred percent score on every qualification course.

In addition to firearms, the teams now have other state of the art equipment, including bullet resistant vests, which are considerably lighter than the old models, Kevlar helmets, and, recently, green uniforms that are designed specifically for SWAT operators. Members who are assigned on a rotating basis to respond to critical incidents from home are provided with take home cruisers. There are two equipment vans, which are being replaced by top of the line Mercedes Benz Sprinters. These are specifically designed for special operations use. These vans are kept in a secure location and are picked up when a SWAT type incident occurs and/or when they are conducting a raid. Finally, they have a Lenco Bearcat Armored Rescue Vehicle, which can be deployed very quickly when needed.

Operationally, the teams, for the most part, work only on SWAT related activities. They frequently conduct raids which involve the potential for extreme violence; i.e., raids where the presence of a firearm(s) that is(are) likely to be used is an element, and/or raids involving gangs. Of course, their duties also include response to all hostage, barricade, sniper, or active shooter situations. The teams are particularly proud of the fact that they haven’t had to fire a shot since 2008. Considering the potential for violence and number of incidents they handle, that is truly a record of which to be proud.

A quote that is attributed to George Orwell describes the mission and character of the SWAT teams: “People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” Rough describes their dedication to the hard work necessary to achieve the status of a SWAT operator and ready, although not anxious, to do violence describes the grueling training they have undergone in becoming one. They are superbly trained and equipped, and are the epitome of professional SWAT operators. They are more than any of us, who were involved nearly forty years ago in trying to get the SWAT albatross off the ground, could have imagined.   The teams have grown up indeed.

EPILOGUE

The writing of this has been a labor of love. Although I have tried to give proper credit to all of those I could remember that contributed to making the teams what they are today, I’m certain that I have left some out. I apologize for that. That the Baltimore Police Department now has such men in its SWAT teams to protect the citizens of Baltimore, is a credit to the administrations and the SWAT members, told and untold, that made it so.

Today’s world presents challenges to police departments that were unheard of at the time of the teams’ beginning. Active shooters killing dozens in malls or schools will require the best of the best to stop them. On the horizon is the certainty that this country will suffer attacks from rabid, religion driven, zealots. The attacks will be horrendous and, unless stopped immediately, result in terrible losses. While the main effort of law enforcement has to be directed towards preventing such attacks, the men who respond to those that are not prevented will have to be very “rough” and “ready” indeed. The men they will face may have undergone rigorous military training and will possess a furor to carry out their missions that is beyond the capability of normal people to understand. SWAT trainers and supervisors will have to constantly confer with intelligence assets, departmental and otherwise, to foresee when and where the attacks might come. Those likely locations will have to be constantly monitored and plans developed to respond effectively in case of a critical event. This adds an intelligence element to the SWAT concept. It also follows the military model for creating contingency plans to respond to any threat to the security of this country.

In the world of today, there are many critics of the perceived militarization of police departments. It is unfortunate that some incidents have occurred where law enforcement special operations units and their equipment have been used inappropriately. Regardless, given the state of affairs as they exist today, police departments must have special operations units that train in conformity with military models and use equipment that the military uses. The qualifications and training of SWAT operators cannot be lessened and, in fact, may have to be intensified. The police department is the first line of defense against those that would kill the citizens the department is sworn to protect. There is no alternative to having SWAT teams that are capable to meet all threats, even if they work in the manner and look like they are a military unit in doing so. There is, also, no alternative but to have sufficient controls in place, which will clearly distinguish between what SWAT teams can do as law enforcement officers and how that differs from the role of the military. Finally, to ensure the citizens’ confidence, the department should reach out and educate them as to the rationale and operational protocols of the SWAT concept. In the tough times ahead, the department will need to have the complete support of the citizens to address the critical incidents of tomorrow. Given the outstanding performance and professional quality of the current SWAT teams, there is no doubt that the Baltimore Police Department will be able to meet and overcome all of tomorrow’s challenges. I pray it will be so.

    

 

POLICE INFORMATION

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Quick Response Team
 
QRT
"Quick Response Team"

QRT - Baltimore's "Quick Response Team" began forming in 1976; shortly before the Lombard and Carey St. sniper incident that members of Tactical Units realized a need for better training, and better equipment, to handle riots, barricade and hostage type situations. Following in the footsteps on other agencies they were going to name their team SWAT (Special Weapons And Tactics) But the department (Frank Battaglia, to be more precise didn’t think any sort of "S.W.A.T." function was necessary and tried to stop the program at every opportunity.) They found the word “SWAT” to be too harsh (Political Correctness circa 1975/76) QRT was the name eventually chosen by then Col. Robinson after suggestions from TAC personnel were solicited on top of the political correctness, Robinson also wanted to distinguish BPD from LAPD, NYPD, etc.; thus, he went with QRT over SWAT The follow pictures taken from the Baltimore Sun paper will show some of our earliest members of QRT, our founding fathers you might say, of today's Baltimore SWAT team (BTW in 2006 after 20 years the department finally gives in, and joins 1976 - just kidding, the men and women that have worked QRT/SWAT over the years have been some of the elite, in an already elite department of police that took pride in their job, and in protecting the citizens they swore to protect) 

For a More Detailed History Click Here

Photo was taken by Sun Photographer Joseph A. Dialola

The QRT officer in the back might be Lenny Rummo? The first officer ringing the doorbell is John McGuire, behind John is Frank Icanvino (sp?). Officer McGuire left the BPD soon after this photo was taken to work for the State Department. Photo was taken at 1010 Broadway as QRT was looking for a shooting suspect back in July-03-1978

Picture Taken by Sunpaper Photographer Walter McCardell
Left to Right Officer Dennis Dean, Officer Ronnie Hubbard, and Officer Al Erhardt

October 29, 1976, As members of Quick Response Team (QRT), suit up on Greenspring Ave. the call came out as a man with a gun in the 5800 block of Western Run Dr. - The Newspaper article said - Police don flak jackets for a foray against what turned out to be a juvenile prankster. So if you ever wonder why police approach every scene with caution, now you know, they don't know the dangerous calls, from the prank calls, the good guys from the bad guys, and just like you, they want to go home at the end of their shift.

Quick Response Team  

Seen standing in this pic with a.30 cal. carbine rifle covering the front of the location (1500 blk Federal St) in 1978, is Jerry DeManss. This was the location where Officer Mike Casizzi was shot in the stomach. I worked Mike Casizzi years later, he was good police. 

The First QRT Squad - A-3. 

From left to right, STANDING:  EVU Officer? and EVU Sgt. Dave Bryant, A-3 Squad Officers Roger Rose, Jim Sebore (sp.), Gary Green, Mike Speedling, Kelly Allen, Lee Baker, Norm Bleakly, Andy Gersey;  KNEELING:  Sgt. Joe Key, Steve Grennell, George Smith, Mike Hurm, Lenny Rummo, Ed Schillo, Bob Letmate.  This photo was taken at Gunpowder Range in Feb. 1976 when the squad was trained by the FBI in SWAT ops.  Roger Rose broke his arm during the training and left the squad.  The blue coveralls were bought from a company that made uniforms for bread truck drivers.  A-3 was the only squad operational during Lombard and Carey and for two-three months afterward.  The G.O. authorizing QRT wasn’t signed until I left QRT on Oct. 77

 
QRT Counter Sniper

To become a QRT/SWAT Counter Snipers, the marksman has to practice all the time, and their qualifying test has them shooting the .308, at targets less than half the size of a human skull, from a distance of as much as 75 yards on a timed course, and the marksman has to shoot a 100% in order to make Marksman and become a "Counter Sniper".  

Baltimore SWAT Team

QRT (Quick Response Team) is renamed SWAT (Special Weapons and Tactics) after 32 years the department finally changes the name of this highly trained, elite team. (Initially in 1974 while forming the team the department was against using the name SWAT because they felt the name was too harsh for the department image. Political correctness circa 1974.)

Courtesy Lt Joe Key
Basic Training Sniper School

"No matter how tired or sweaty I felt, when a situation was resolved and we (the team ) were leaving the location with the usual media crush with lights and cameras on, I would not, at that moment, trade places with anyone in the world" A quote from Jerry DeManss and all the QRT'ers

 

 

Courtesy Lt. Don Healy

 

 

Courtesy Lt. Don Healy

 

 

Courtesy Lt. Don Healy

Courtesy Lt Joe Key
FBI QRT Training A3 Squad 1

 

Quick Response Team

SWAT
Special Weapons And Tactics

Courtesy Lt Joe Key
Kuhn Chase St 1987 Bunker Saves Life

Courtesy Lt Joe Key
Kuhn Chase St May 1987

 
SUN PHOTO

 

 

Photo courtesy Herb Moseley

 

Photo courtesy Herb Moseley

Courtesy Lt Joe Key
Kuhn Rappell Training Tie Off Cover with Long Gun

Courtesy Lt Joe Key
Photo Certification

Courtesy Lt Joe Key
Schmidt, Taylor, Gilbart, Thomas, Williams, Ellis, Wocjik, Rose

Courtesy Lt Joe Key
Sniper Training

Courtesy Lt Joe Key
Steve Woody at Camden Yards

SWAT ("Special Weapons And Tactics") is a commonly-used proper name for law enforcement units, which use military-style light weapons and specialized tactics in high-risk operations that fall outside of the abilities of regular, uniformed police. "SWAT" is commonly-used internationally, as a colloquial, generic term for these units.

Their duties include: confronting heavily-armed criminals; performing hostage rescue and counter-terrorism operations; high-risk arrests and; entering armored or barricaded buildings. Such units are often equipped with specialized firearms including sub-machine guns, assault rifles, breaching shotguns, riot control agents, stun grenades, and sniper rifles. They have specialized equipment including heavy body armor, ballistic shields, entry tools, armored vehicles, advanced night vision optics, and motion detectors for covertly determining the positions of hostages or hostage takers, inside enclosed structures.

History

 Some sources state that the first use of "SWAT" as an acronym for "Special Weapons and Tactics" was the Special Weapons and Tactics Squad established by the Philadelphia Police Department in 1964. A more prominent early SWAT team was established in the Los Angeles Police Department in 1967, by Inspector Daryl Gates. After that, many United States law enforcement organizations, especially the police departments of major cities, as well as federal and state agencies, established their own elite units under various names. Gates explained in his autobiography Chief: My Life in the LAPD that he neither developed SWAT tactics nor the associated and often distinctive equipment; but that he supported the underlying concept, tried to empower his people to develop it, and generally lent them moral support. Gates originally named the platoon "Special Weapons Assault Team"; however, his name was not generally favored and was rejected by his manager, deputy police chief Ed Davis, as sounding too much like a military organization. Wanting to keep the acronym "SWAT", Gates changed its expanded form to "Special Weapons And Tactics".

While the public image of SWAT first became known through the LAPD, perhaps because of its proximity to the mass media and the size and professionalism of the Department itself, the first SWAT-type operations were conducted north of Los Angeles in the farming community of Delano, California on the border between Kern and Tulare Counties in the San Joaquin Valley. At the time, César Chavez' United Farm Workers union was staging numerous protests in Delano, both at cold storage facilities and outside non-supportive farm workers' homes on city streets. The Delano Police Department responded by forming ad-hoc units using special weapons and tactics. Television news stations and print media carried live and delayed reportage of these events across the United States. Personnel from the LAPD, having seen these broadcasts, contacted Delano and inquired about the program. One officer then obtained permission to observe the Delano Police Department's special weapons and tactics units in action and afterward took what he had learned back to Los Angeles where his knowledge was used and expanded on to form the LAPD's own first SWAT unit. John Nelson was the officer who conceived the idea to form a specially trained and equipped unit in the LAPD, intended to respond to and manage critical situations involving shootings while minimizing police casualties. Inspector Gates approved this idea, and he formed a small select group of volunteer officers. This first SWAT unit initially consisted of fifteen teams of four men each, making a total staff of sixty. These officers were given special status and benefits and were required to attend special monthly training sessions. The unit also served as a security unit for police facilities during civil unrest. The LAPD SWAT units were organized as "D Platoon" in the Metro division.

Members of the San Bernardino Police Department SWAT team on September 23, 1998.

Members of the U.S. Air Force 60th Security Forces Squadron SWAT team, Travis Air Force Base, California, practice hostage rescue on July 18, 1995.

The first significant deployment of LAPD's SWAT unit was on December 9, 1969, in a four-hour confrontation with members of the Black Panthers. The Panthers eventually surrendered, with three Panthers and three officers being injured. By 1974, there was a general acceptance of SWAT as a resource for the city and county of Los Angeles.

On the afternoon of May 17, 1974, elements of the Symbionese Liberation Army (SLA), a group of heavily-armed left-wing guerrillas, barricaded themselves in a residence on East 54th Street at Compton Avenue in Los Angeles. Coverage of the siege was broadcast to millions via television and radio and featured in the world press for days after. Negotiations were opened with the barricaded suspects on numerous occasions, both prior to and after the introduction of tear gas. Police units did not fire until the SLA had fired several volleys of semi-automatic and automatic gunfire at them. In spite of the 3,771 rounds fired by the SLA, no uninvolved citizens or police officers sustained injury from gunfire. However, all the gunmen inside were killed.

During the gun battle, a fire erupted inside the residence. The cause of the fire is officially unknown, although police sources speculated that an errant round ignited one of the suspects' Molotov cocktails. Others suspect that the repeated use of tear gas grenades, which function by burning chemicals at high temperatures, started the structure fire. All six of the suspects suffered multiple gunshot wounds or perished in the ensuing blaze.

U.S. Air Force 37th Training Wing's Emergency Services Team use a team lift technique to enter a target building during training at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas on April 24, 2007.

By the time of the SLA shoot-out, SWAT teams had reorganized into six 10-man teams, each team consisting of two five-man units, called elements. An element consisted of an element leader, two assaulters, a scout, and a rear-guard. The normal complement of weapons was a sniper rifle (a .243-caliber bolt-action, based on the ordnance expended by officers at the shootout), two .223-caliber semi-automatic rifles, and two shotguns. SWAT officers also carried their service revolvers in shoulder holsters. Standard gear included a first aid kit, gloves, and a gas mask. At a time when officers were usually issued six-shot revolvers and shotguns, it was a significant change to have police armed with semi-automatic rifles. The encounter with the heavily-armed Symbionese Liberation Army, however, sparked a trend towards SWAT teams being issued body armor and automatic weapons of various types.

A report issued by the Los Angeles Police Department, following a shootout with the Symbionese Liberation A rmy in 1974, offers one of the few firsthand accounts by the department regarding SWAT history, operations, and organization. On page 100 of the report, the Department cites four trends which prompted the development of SWAT. These included riots such as the Watts Riots, which in the 1960s forced the LAPD and other police departments into tactical situations for which they were ill-prepared; the emergence of snipers as a challenge to civil order; political assassinations; and the threat of urban guerrilla warfare by militant groups. "The unpredictability of the sniper and his anticipation of normal police response increase the chances of death or injury to officers. To commit conventionally trained officers to a confrontation with a guerrilla-trained militant group would likely result in a high number of casualties among the officers and the escape of the guerrillas." To deal with these under conditions of urban violence, the LAPD formed SWAT, notes the report.The report states on page 109, "The purpose of SWAT is to provide protection, support, security, firepower, and rescue to police operations in high personal risk situations where specialized tactics are necessary to minimize casualties."

The Columbine High School massacre in Colorado on April 20, 1999, was another seminal event in SWAT tactics and police response. As noted in an article in the Christian Science Monitor, "Instead of being taught to wait for the SWAT team to arrive, street officers are receiving the training and weaponry to take immediate action during incidents that clearly involve suspects' use of deadly force." The article further reported that street officers were increasingly being armed with rifles, and issued heavy body armor and ballistic helmets, items traditionally associated with SWAT units. The idea is to train and equip street officers to make a rapid response to so-called active-shooter situations. In these situations, it was no longer acceptable to simply set up a perimeter and wait for SWAT. As an example, in the policy and procedure manual of the Minneapolis Police Department, it is stated, "MPD personnel shall remain cognizant of the fact that in many active shooter incidents, innocent lives are lost within the first few minutes of the incident. In some situations, this dictates the need to rapidly assess the situation and act quickly in order to save lives."

 

On February 7, 2008, a siege and subsequent firefight with a gunman in Winnetka, California led to the first line-of-duty death of a member of the LAPD's SWAT team in its 41 years of existence.

SWAT duties

SWAT duties may include:

Hostage rescue

Riot control

Perimeter security against snipers for visiting dignitaries

Providing superior assault firepower in certain situations e.g. barricaded suspects

Rescuing officers or citizens endangered by gunfire

Counter-terrorist operations

Resolving high-risk situations with a minimum loss of life, injury, or property damage

Resolving situations involving barricaded subjects

Stabilizing situations involving high-risk suicidal subjects

Providing assistance on arrest warrants and search warrants

Providing additional security at special events

Special Training

Organization

SWAT officers respond to the 2009 Fort Hood shooting.

The relative infrequency of SWAT call-outs means these expensively-trained and equipped officers cannot be left to sit around, waiting for an emergency. In many departments, the officers are normally deployed to regular duties but are available for SWAT calls via pagers, mobile phones or radio transceivers. Even in the larger police agencies, such as the Los Angeles PD, SWAT personnel would normally be seen in crime suppression roles—specialized and more dangerous than regular patrol, perhaps, but the officers would not be carrying their distinctive armor and weapons.

Although due to Officers having to be on call-out most of the day, they may be assigned to regular patrol. To decrease response times to serious situations that need the direct attention of SWAT Officers, it is now a widely used method to place SWAT equipment and weaponry in secured lockers in the trunks of specialized police cruisers. Such departments that need to use this are Sheriffs due to the size of the counties and places like Los Angeles traffic may be high so LAPD use cruisers to respond with their Officers so they do not have to return to the police building. Although for heavier duty equipment they may need depending on the situation that arises.

By illustration, the LAPD's website shows that in 2003, their SWAT units were activated 255 times, for 133 SWAT calls and 122 times to serve high-risk warrants.

The New York Police Department's Emergency Service Unit is one of the few civilian police special-response units that operate autonomously 24 hours a day. However, this unit also provides a wide range of services, including search and rescue functions, and vehicle extraction, normally handled by fire departments or other agencies.

The need to summon widely-dispersed personnel, then equip and brief them, makes for a long lag between the initial emergency and actual SWAT deployment on the ground. The problems of delayed police response at the 1999 Columbine High School shooting has led to changes in police response, mainly rapid deployment of line officers to deal with an active shooter, rather than setting up a perimeter and waiting for SWAT to arrive.

Training

SW AT officers are selected from volunteers within their law enforcement organization. Depending on their department's policy, officers generally must serve a minimum tenure within the department before being able to apply for a specialist section such as SWAT. This tenure requirement is based on the fact that SWAT officers are still law enforcement officers and must have a thorough knowledge of department policies and procedures.

SWAT applicants undergo rigorous selection and training. Applicants must pass stringent physical agility, written, oral, and psychological testing to ensure they are not only fit enough but also psychologically suited for tactical operations.

Emphasis is placed on physical fitness so an officer will be able to withstand the rigors of tactical operations. After an officer has been selected, the potential member must undertake and pass numerous specialist courses that will make him a fully qualified SWAT operator. Officers are trained in marksmanship for the development of accurate shooting skills. Other training that could be given to potential members includes training in explosives, sniper-training, defensive tactics, first-aid, negotiation, handling K9 units, rappelling and roping techniques and the use of specialized weapons and equipment. They may also be trained specifically in the handling and use of special ammunition such as bean bags, flash-bang grenades, tasers, and the use of crowd control methods, and special non-lethal munitions. Of primary importance is close-quarters defensive tactics training, as this will be the primary mission upon becoming a full-time SWAT officer.

SWAT equipment

SWAT teams use equipment designed for a variety of specialist situations including close quarters combat (CQC) in an urban environment. The particular pieces of equipment vary from unit to unit, but there are some consistent trends in what they wear and use.

Weapons

While a wide variety of weapons are used by SWAT teams, the most common weapons include submachine guns, assault rifles, shotguns, and sniper rifles.

Tactical aids include K9 Units, as well as a flashbang, stinger, and tear gas grenades.

Semi-automatic pistols are the most popular sidearms. Examples may include, but are not limited to: M1911 pistol series, Sig Sauer series (especially the Sig P226 and Sig P229), Beretta 92 series, Glock pistols, H&K USP series, and 5.7x28mm FN Five-seveN pistol.

Common submachine guns used by SWAT teams include the 9 mm and 10 mm Heckler & Koch MP5, Heckler & Koch UMP, and 5.7x28mm FN P90.

Common shotguns used by SWAT units include the Benelli M1, Benelli M4, Benelli M1014, Remington 870 and 1100, Mossberg 500 and 590.

Common carbines include the Colt CAR-15 and M4 and Heckler & Koch G36 and HK416. While affording SWAT teams increased penetration and accuracy at longer ranges, the compact size of these weapons is essential as SWAT units frequently operate in Close quarters combat (CQB) environments. The Colt M16A2  can be found used by marksmen or SWAT officers when a longer ranged weapon is needed.

Common sniper rifles used are the M14 rifle and the Remington 700P. Many different variants of bolt action rifles are used by SWAT, including limited use of .50 caliber sniper rifles for more intense situations.

To breach doors quickly, battering rams, shotguns with breaching rounds, or explosive charges can be used to break the lock or hinges, or even demolish the door frame itself. SWAT teams also use many non-lethal munitions and weapons. These include Tasers, pepper spray canisters, shotguns loaded with bean bag rounds, Pepperball guns, stinger grenades, flashbang grenades, and tear gas. Ballistic shields are used in close quarters situations to provide cover for SWAT team members and reflect gunfire. Pepperball guns are essentially paintball markers loaded with balls containing Oleoresin Capsicum ("pepper spray").

Vehicles

Lenco BearCat owned by the Lee County Sheriff's Office (Florida) SWAT team

SWAT units may also employ ARVs, (Armored Rescue Vehicle) for insertion, maneuvering, or during tactical operations such as the rescue of civilians/officers pinned down by gunfire. Helicopters may be used to provide aerial reconnaissance or even insertion via rappelling or fast-roping. To avoid detection by suspects during insertion in urban environments, SWAT units may also use modified buses, vans, trucks, or other seemingly normal vehicles. During the 1997 North Hollywood shootout, LAPD SWAT commandeered an armored cash-delivery truck, which they used to extract wounded civilians and officers from the raging battle scene.

Units such as the Ohio State Highway Patrol's Special Response Team (SRT) used a vehicle called a B.E.A.R., made by Lenco Engineering which is a very large armored vehicle with a ladder on top to make entry into the second and third floors of buildings. Numerous other agencies such as the LAPD, LASD, and NYPD use both the B.E.A.R. and the smaller Lenco BearCat variant. Anaheim Police Department has a customized B.E.A.R. fitted with a ladder for assaulting multi-story buildings. Many SWAT teams in the states and around the world, including the LAPD, fit their armored and non-armored vehicles with the Patriot3 Liberator and 'MARS' (Mobile Adjustable Ramp System) Elevated Tactics Systems for gaining entry to 2nd and 3rd story buildings, airplane assault, sniper positioning, ship access, etc.

The Tulsa Police Department's SOT (Special Operations Team) uses an Alvis Saracen, a British-built armored personnel carrier. The Saracen was modified to accommodate the needs of the SOT. A Night Sun was mounted on top and a ram was mounted to the front. The Saracen has been used from warrant service to emergency response. It has enabled team members to move from one point to another safely.

The police departments of Killeen and Austin, Texas and Washington, D.C. use the Cadillac Gage Ranger, as does the Florida Highway Patrol.

Criticism

The use of SWAT teams in non-emergency situations has been criticized. Radley Balko, a policy analyst at the Cato Institute, authored Overkill: The Rise of Paramilitary Police Raids in America.

Other studies include Warrior Cops: The Ominous Growth of Paramilitarism in American Police Departments by Diane Cecilia Weber from the same institute and Militarizing American Police: The Rise and Normalization of Paramilitary Units by Dr. Peter Kraska and his colleague Victor Kappeler, professors of criminal justice at Eastern Kentucky University, who surveyed police departments nationwide and found that their deployment of paramilitary units had grown tenfold since the early 1980s.

 

For More Information On The History Of QRT / SWAT
CLICK HERE

POLICE INFORMATION

Copies of: Your Baltimore Police Department Class Photo, Pictures of our Officers, Vehicles, Equipment, Newspaper Articles relating to our department and or officers, Old Departmental Newsletters, Lookouts, Wanted Posters, and or Brochures. Information on Deceased Officers and anything that may help Preserve the History and Proud Traditions of this agency. Please contact Retired Detective Kenny Driscoll.

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How to Dispose of Old Police Items

If you come into possession of Police items from an Estate or Death of a Police Officer Family Member and do not know how to properly dispose of these items please contact: Retired Detective Ken Driscoll - Please dispose of POLICE Items: Badges, Guns, Uniforms, Documents, PROPERLY so they won’t be used IMPROPERLY. 

Please contact Det. Ret. Kenny Driscoll if you have any pictures of you or your family members and wish them remembered here on this tribute site to Honor the fine men and women who have served with Honor and Distinction at the Baltimore Police Department.

Anyone with information, photographs, memorabilia, or other "Baltimore City Police" items can contact Ret. Det. Kenny Driscoll at  This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. follow us on Twitter @BaltoPoliceHist or like us on Facebook or mail pics to 8138 Dundalk Ave. Baltimore Md. 21222

Copyright © 2002 Baltimore City Police History - Ret Det Kenny Driscoll

Baltimore Police Patrol

The First Vehicles in The Baltimore Police Department for use in patrol came along beginning in 1909 based on a newspaper article dated 1911 which gave us the following count; Auto Patrol vehicles have been added to the department subsequently as follows: The first vehicle ever came in May 1909, the second in May 1910, the third in June 1910, followed by the fourth in Aug 1910, fifth In July 1911, the sixth, seventh, and eighth all came in November 1911. In addition to these first eight auto patrol units there was a vehicle known as “Black Maria”, a truck, and a machine (auto) each for Marshal Farnan and Deputy Marshal Manning, making a total of 11 automobiles purchased for the entire department from 1909 to 1911.

1-MAN PATROL CAR OPPOSED

The Sun (1837-1989); Apr 15, 1946; pg.7
1- PATROL - CAR OPPOSED MAN

Atkinson Says Two Are Needed / For Each Machine
Police patrol cars in Baltimore, could not adequately serve I the public interest if operated by one man instead of two, Hamilton R. Atkinson, Commissioner of Police, declared yesterday.

Mr. Atkinson, who is asking for 212 additional patrolmen, had been questioned about relieving the need for extra police personnel by taking a man from each or the radio cars and using him elsewhere. Two men in each car usually are necessary to handle such emergencies as a fight, house-breaking or disturbance involving several persons, the commissioner explained.

Major Problem Cited
Moreover, if only one man were in the car, the machine often would have to be left unprotected, and a less continuous check could be kept on reports coming over the radio, he added. He said, also, that two-man operation facilitated the handling of school traffic, a major problem of the day shift or the department. Foot patrolmen are far from adequate to cover the school traffic, Mr. Atkinson declared, and patrol cars are called into use, as well as traffic officers on motorcycles. One patrolman in the car will take charge at one school, and the second man will move on to another traffic-congested areas nearby.

Child Fatality Low
"The child fatality record has been very low, and I intend to keep it that way." he asserted. The day shift has to devote approximately five and a half hours to taking care of school traffic, he added. "We have never used one man in radio cars. I have gone into the matter thoroughly with the inspector of the department and the captains or the district,” Mr. Atkinson said. "None of my predecessors thought it feasible, and neither do I. "Mr. Atkinson insisted on the need for more men to protect the city, particularly in outlying districts. He said there were about 231 men on each shift serving the entire city-wide area, 91 square miles.

The Baltimore Police Department uses "Districts", Sectors and Posts to form what is known as Patrol. Where many departments use "Precincts," our department uses Districts, Districts numbered 1, thru 9. Starting with Central District (#1) from there we go to Southeast District (#2), and then going counter clockwise around the cities districts to Eastern (#3), Northeast (#4), Northern (#5), Northwestern (#6), Western (#7), Southwestern (#8) and finally Southern (#9). Their phone numbers by the way also use the numbers 1 thru 9, CD being 396-2411, SE 396-2422, E 396-2433, NE 396-2444, N 396-2455, NW 396-2466, W 396-2477 SW 396-2488 and S 396-2499.

Reports also go by these numbers, all Central District reports start with the number 1 followed by a letter indicating the month 1 thru 12 Jan thru Dec, and then the number sequentially of the report so the first report would be 1A0001, and so on, making it easy to file and find reports based on District and Date of occurrence.

The following are links to the district pages on this site

1. Central - 1826 -  Central/Middle District History - 03-09-1826  Central District was first known as the Middle District and was first located at Holiday and Saratoga Streets, it was established on 03-09-1826, the building that housed Central was built in 1802 and was in use by the police until 1870. From there they moved to 202 N. Guilford Avenue, (North Street) that building was brand new built in 1870 and used until 1908. On March 4 1908 Central moved to Saratoga and St. Paul Streets, a renovated school house. That location was used until 09-12-1926 when they went to Fallsway and Fayette St. sharing the Headquarters building built in 1926 and used until 09-12-1977 when they moved to 500 E. Baltimore St. 

2. Southeast - 1858/59 - Southeastern District History - 1958/59 - The Southeastern District is the youngest of all of our districts, it was first built in 1958/59 at it's present location of 5710 Eastern Ave.

3. Eastern - 1826 - Eastern District History - 03-09-1826 - The Eastern District was first located at 1621 Bank Street a building that was built around 1822, and still stands to this day. It remained at the Bank Street location until the summer of 1959, when the station was moved to the old Northeastern station at Ashland and Chew St. (Durham) in the Summer of 1959 where they stayed until 1960. In December 1960 they moved to their current location at 1620 Edison Highway.

4. Northeast - 1874 - Northeasten District History - 1874 - The Northeastern Distirct was first opened at Ashland and Chew Streets (Durham) in 1874 where it remained until 1958/9 when they moved to their present district at 1900 Argonne Drive.

5. Northern - 1900 - Northern District History -  1900 The Northern District was first opened at Keswick and 34th Street (Cedar & Second Streets) on 1 Feb 1900 at 8am ran by Capt. Gittings, Lieutenants Henry and Dempsey; Round Sergeants will be, Warden for Day Duty, and Moxley for Night Duty. At the time they began with 50 officers. It remained at the Keswick location until 2001 when it moved to it's current location at 2201 W Coldspring Lane.

6. Northwest - 1874 - Northwestern District History - 1874 - The Northwestern District was first opened at Pennsylvania Ave and Lambert Street in 1874 where it remained until 1958/9 when they moved to their present district on Reisterstown Rd. 

7. Western - 1826 - Western District History - The Western District was first located at Green St between Baltimore St, and Belvidere St. Used from 1826 until 1876 when they moved to their new location, Pine Street, (still stands to day and is used by the Maryland University Police) Baltimore Police used it from 1876 until 1958/9 when they built their new station house at 1034 N Mount St, which is the current site on the Western District. 

8. Southwest - 1884 - Southwestern District History - 17 July 1884  The Southwestern District was first opened at Calhoun and Pratt Streets (200 S Calhoun St) where it remained until 11 July 1958 when they moved to their present location at 424 Font Hill Ave.

9. Southern - 1845 - Southern District History - The Southern District was first located at Montgomery and Sharp Streets, wgere it sat from 1845 until 1896 when they moved to Ostend Street. Ostend Street and Patapsco Street, remained in use from 1896 until 1985/86, when it moved to 10 Cherry Hill Road where it remains in use to present.

Patrol Vehicles had an Interesting History of Their Own,

Police Limit Car Sirens

The Sun (1837-1987); Nov 17, 1968; pg. 17

Police Limit - Car Sirens

Action Taken To Eliminate - False Sense Of Security

The city's Police Department is putting sirens on fewer and fewer of its cars. The number of cars bearing sirens is being reduced in an effort to eliminate a false sense of security which they tend to give patrolmen who are racing to answer a call, William R. Morrissey, the department's public relations man, said yesterday.

Mr. Morrissey acknowledged that "there is no solid, professional thinking ... as to whether police vehicles should or should not be equipped with sirens" but he pointed to experiences several years ago when all cruisers had sirens and the accident rate among police cars was so high that use of sirens was curtailed.

Report Asked

Currently, Mr. Morrissey said, sirens are installed on several cars in each of the nine police districts, some cars used by detectives, traffic patrol cars and some specialized vehicles. The lack of sirens on police cars has prompted city Councilman Emerson R. Julian D., 4th) to ask the department for a report on the use of sirens on police vehicles. If that information shows that sirens are needed, to help protect the public, Dr. Julian said, he will introduce a bill to require sirens on all police vehicles.

Mr. Morrissey pointed out that in some emergency situations, use of a siren could alert a criminal that the police are coming. And, he said, the driver or an emergency vehicle is still required to drive "with due regard for the safety of all persons using a public street." Even if he has both his siren and his flashing light in operation.

Dr. Julian said that he became interested in the siren question after several near-collisions with police cars and a minor collision involving a patrol car on an emergency call and a car in which he was a passenger.

 

1931 Radio-car Gets its Start

Click Here for more Information

Police Department driving failed to improve in 71 – 72

21 February 1972 – page C16

The Baltimore city Police Department driving record showed little improvement last year over its performance in 1970 – department statistics show.

City policeman were involved in 922 traffic mishaps while on duty last year – only one less than the number of accidents in 1970.

The department’s problem is not new. Donald D Pomerleau the police Commissioner, angered by the high accident rate two years ago – then nearly double the nation average – said in a departmental publication that the driving record was nothing short of “horrendous.”

For every million miles of driving by policeman last year, there were 55.35 accidents, according to departmental statistics.

Of the 922 mishaps last year, policeman were found at fault in 400 – including 315 accidents the department felt were “preventable.”

Disciplinary measures were taken again 334 policemen involved in accidents last year depriving the men of the total of 709 leave days

the department in the past was resorted to placing poor drivers on permit for patrol, suspending their police driving licenses and giving them oral reprimands.

A requirement that policeman contribute part of the cost of repairs to mangle patrol cars was eliminated several years ago when the city assumed care of the fleet.

Particularly alarming to the department is the number of policeman injured in traffic accidents. The 146 injured policeman were on medical leave for over 1500 days because of the mishaps.

In 1970, a driver – research firm spent several months studying the driving characteristics of city policeman, but failed to find and the explanation for the high rate of accidents.

Policeman as a group are somehow “unique” and that they “do not match any known driving population on record,” a spokesman for the firm reported.

Removed Sirens

a few years back, the department remove the sirens from most patrol cars in an attempt to reduce accidents. A department spokesman said the sirens were “distracting” and made the drivers reckless and overconfident.

The sirens were believed partially responsible for the police men crashing into each other’s patrol cars while answering the same calls.

But department records show most accidents – more than 430 last year – occurred while policeman were on routine patrol. A majority also occurred during peak traffic hours in the morning and evening.

Ran Into Pedestrians

Department taxes last year included 30 in which policeman ran into pedestrians and nearly 200 and which police vehicles were struck by civilian cars.

Other’s happened in police parking lots and garages.

Lieut. Col. William Harris, chief of the traffic division, has proposed a defensive driving program that would be required for policeman involved in accidents.

The program would include movies of other traffic accidents – film similar to those used by the motor vehicle administration and its driver rehab program. 

 

 

State Agency Faults City for Lack of Police Sirens

The Sun (1837-1987); Jun 29, 1972;

pg. D24 State Agency Faults City for Lack of Police Sirens

The city Police Department is violating state law by not equipping two thirds of its vehicles with sirens, whistles or bells, a motor vehicle administration official said yesterday

William T. S. Bricker, deputy administrator for the agency. Said Donald Pomerleau the police Commissioner, was “clearly wrong” to ordered audible signal devices removed from most departmental vehicles several years ago.

It was done because Mr. Pomerleau “didn’t want to let the bank robbers know the police were coming.” Said Mr. Bricker. Formerly an assistant state’s attorney general and an assistant state attorney.

But the consequence is that ordinary citizens receive inadequate warning of approaching police cars. Mr. Bricker added.

The motor vehicle administration has no plans, however, to make the Police Department comply with the law. Spokesman said they wanted to avoid a “hassle” with the police.

The police spokesman said the department was aware of what the law calls for, but has made a “judgment not to equip more cars with sirens at this time.”

300 of 900 department vehicles have sirens, said Dennis S Hill, the police departments public information director. And the 300 can handle the volume of emergency calls, he said.

“There is no question in my mind that the Baltimore city Police Department is in violation of the motor vehicle code,” contended Mr. Bricker.

In the event of a collision involving a police vehicle not equipped with a warning device, “the city is liable,” he said.

A section of the vehicle code covering the “rights and liability” of drivers says that emergency vehicles are not entitled to automatic right-of-way unless they are equipped with “audible warning” devices.

The law on this point is “overwhelming,” Mr. Bricker proclaimed.

Another section of the code says that drivers of emergency vehicles may disregard “traffic signals and speed limits” only if their vehicles are equipped with sirens.

Police officials said that they removed audible warning devices for most of their vehicles to reduce department accidents. Sirens allegedly were “distracting” and may drivers reckless and overconfident. In some instances, police cars with blaring sirens were said to have collided with each other.

But department records show that most police accidents more than 430 last year – occur while policeman are one routine patrol – not on emergency runs. Also, there were 922 traffic mishaps involving policeman last year, only one less than the number of accidents in 1970.

City police cars and trucks were involved in 168 accidents during the first quarter of 1972. In only five other cities – of 54 surveyed recently by the national safety Council – the police cars and trucks have higher accident rates during the four-month period.

During the same time span, the Baltimore department ranked the fourth highest among 21 city police departments survived by the safety Council for frequency of accidents among two wheeled police motorcycles.

But for three wheelers, the local department had no accident – ranking it first among 13 city department surveyed during the quarter, the safety Council reported.

Brian Kuebler wrote BALTIMORE - Citing efficiency and safety, the Baltimore Police Department is making yet another visible change in its patrol division by eventually decreasing the use of prisoner transport vans. This information comes as a surprise to many of the members of Baltimore’s Patrol division, as they fear the safety issues are not at the root of this change. Having worked patrol myself, I happen to know if ever there was a concern for officer safety it is not while the prisoner is in a wagon behind, or in front of an officer's vehicle, so much as it is with the prisoner in the vehicle a little less than 2ft behind the officer. There are instances of prisoners vomiting, urinating, and or defecating on themselves in the vehicle, or having concealed weapons that could be used to stab, or shoot the officer from behind. So this could be, and most likely is more than an officer safety issue, and is most likely an issue of budget. Either way, safety or budget, it is not about, nor will it affect (in a positive light) officer morale. He went to say The cage equipped vans, or wagons as they are commonly referred, are used to transport suspects from the scene of a crime or an arrest. Often Baltimore Police would process and handcuff suspects before calling and waiting on a transport vehicle. They are more commonly known as “paddy wagons” by the public, a derogatory term aimed at the Irish dating back to the 1800s in New York. While there is some truth to this, in that is was aimed at the police most of whom were Irish, and from the time period of the 1800's, but the location is off, it was Boston, not New York, and at the time we pretty much all used "Horse Drawn Wagons", hence the term "Wagon" of course the police at the times were mostly Irish, so yes, it was a "Paddy Wagon". When I was on in the late 80's to early 2000, we still called it a "Wagon", we used a box truck type wagon, muck like an ambo, and we called it Wagon, short for "Paddy Wagon" also as an Irishman, I don't think it is derogatory, in fact as a retired Officer, of Irish decent, I am proud to have come from a background of Strong Irish Law enforcement officers, known for fighting crime. The article continued with - But that is not why modern day Baltimore Police are doing away with their frequent use. In Brian's investigation into this story he learned from Lt. Eric Kowolczyk the patrol cars, will all become PTV's (Prisoner Transport Vehicles) something we used to call "Cage Cars" talk about derogatory, it was called this because the first cage cars, were made up simply by putting a thin cage between the officer's and their prisoners. Often spit would fly between the cage, and toward the officers, so the cage was replaced with Plexiglas to prevent anything, spit, blood or other bodily fluids from being thrown at, or on the police. So when Lt. Kowolczyk said, “In our new vehicles we have made a number of changes and upgrades regarding equipment and tools that will assist our officers in the crime fight. One of those changes will be partitions in the vehicles.  These partitions will assist in ensuring the safety of those involved in the arrest, as well in expediting the event itself. They will still allow for complete mobility within the vehicle,”  We learn this is more about economics than safety, this is nothing new, it is more of the same old "Cage Car" prisoner transport of the late 80's early 90's - Which is confirmed with the final line  - Prisoner transport instead will be done more with individual patrol cars.

Foot Patrol
Catherine D Gunther
The Sun (1837-1989); Sep 30, 1981; pg. D1

Except for their name, Stephen W. Quinter, 37, and even F. McNutt, 25, don’t seem to have much in common. The older man – an East Baltimore native – is broad and dark; the younger, who comes from Central California, is slim and blonde.

Yet if you saw them on the street, you might think them indistinguishable. For as Baltimore city police officers, they are too many only a collection of things: a gun, a nightstick, a bad and a radio.

Officers Quinter and McNutt, who work overtime on the recently instituted patrol squad, are aware of that, and they say it’s an ordinance thing to remember. As officer Quinter put it: “you know that sometimes, when people give you a hard time, it’s the uniform, not you, that they are mad at.”

Police Commissioner Frank J Battaglia recent decision to beef up foot patrols 50 to 60 more officers has been greeted favorably by those living and working in a 25 areas targeted for extra help, according to police spokesman Dennis S. Hill.

Though it is too early to tell whether the patrols will affect street crime, Mr. Hill said, “what we’re seeing, we like.”

If officers Quinter and McNutt are any indication, the foot patrol themselves seem to believe in the effectiveness of their work – work that so depends on visibility and the symbol will of the uniform.

Says officer McNutt: “the idea is to at least darken the possibility of crime. If they do criminals see you at every corner, they might think twice.”

This is a story about the foot patrols, about two men behind the uniform

The 23-year-old man sways gently in his own a Mac phrase outside the alley that bisects the company department store on Howard Street. He and his older friend have been trying to get a net in for at least 15; they haven’t been successful, and a younger drinker is not pleased.

“Hey officer, what you like a real criminals;” he demands.

His friend nervously tells of the Haas. “The man ask you for some ID,” he

“I had no criminal; only thing you’ll catch me doing his drinking,” the other continues, “let the man who shot that guy in the head for nothing,” he adds, handing over a driver’s license. “Why don’t you mess with people like that, those punks I read about in the news American?”

Officer McNutt says nothing, just copy the information from the licenses onto a small index card. Older drinker tries to reason with his friend.

“Demands giving you a chance, be cool,” he bags.

Also McKnight looks up. “The best thing for you to do is go home,” he says. “I know it’s early” – is 7:30 PM – “but I caught you in my alley once, and I don’t want to catch you again.”

The older drinker nods vigorously, grabs his friend by the arm and hurries up the street toward North and Howard. Officer McNutt looks the index card in his breast pocket.

Being in Baltimore and being a police officer are almost one in the same for officer McNutt: a two-year veteran of the force, he joined six months after he and his wife moved here from the West.

An Army veteran and a father of an 11 week old son, also McNutt says he isn’t really sure why he joined the city police force. He does say he’s happy with the job, having so for work several radio car and foot patrol beats downtown.

Also McNutt’s post tonight runs straight up W. Fayette St. from the Hilton Hotel to the town theater and includes assorted alleys and byways in between. The patrolman says robbery, all kinds, is the big crime in the area.

But during rush hour, around 6 PM it seems that people are more likely to get killed in a traffic accident that a hold up.

Pedestrians cross the intersection or halfway down the block; with the light or against. Motorist, too, and gold’s in numerous creative maneuvers, and officer McNutt makes a point of letting the drivers know that he sees what’s going on. Often, a hand signal is enough.

The rush-hour action isn’t confined to traffic; also McNutt keeps an eye on the bus stop crowd outside the turf bar and lounge in the 2000 block of W. Fayette St.

“About a year, year and a half ago, we got a call on most every night about something going on there,” he says with a gesture toward the bar. “Now we haven’t been up there in a while.”

The Lodge door swings open for a second, and the sidewalk crowd is treated to a few verses of Smokey Robinson’s “being with you,” late on a Friday afternoon the brightly lit bar is packed with customers.

Officer McNutt, who says he lives on Baltimore’s ‘south side’, won’t say straight out what he thinks of charm city.

“I’m basically a country boy… In a town half the size of Pikesville,” he explains.

Swinging south on Howard Street, he passes “Tony Dante’s the place for ribs” he catches the eye of the toddler sitting on the steps in front of the restaurant, and smiles at her, she gasps, wheels “police” then, she smiles back, and waves.

Also McKnight stops at the Trailways station and heads downstairs to the restroom. He walks the length of the hallway to the door marked “beauty salon.” It leads to a narrow, damn, smelly core door with many doors.

There’s a sinister quiet, the place is so remote, and it seems dangerous. “It’s called crime prevention,” also McNutt says with a smile. He checks the boiler room and heads up another flight of stairs. “I really don’t know where I’m going here,” he says with a laugh, then more soberly; “you try to find the cubbyhole the Crooks use when they try to give you the slip you know where to find them.”

The next stop, house restaurant on Eutaw Street. Also McNutt motions to the bartender. “Just checking in to see if everything’s okay,” he says. I don’t know, I feel kind of strange,” the barkeep replies with a smile

“Well,” also McNutt shoots back, “you’re in the right neighborhood.”

It’s a soft fall night with the promise of rain and early dust, signaling the end of summer. Officer of Quinter is strolling through the northern branch of the four Mount Vernon Parks that encircled the Washington Monument, talking about winos.

“I’d rather they just for it out,” he says. “If I have to arrest them, it takes too much time away from the patrol.” Officer Quinter turns left, heading into the park across from the Peabody Conservatory of music. Two men on a bench sheer drink for paper bag while two other snooze.

The drinkers look up and see the uniform. Almost no words are spoken; the booze Goebbels gently out onto the pavement and they move on. Officer Quinter awakens the Sweepers, London’s to their feet and swiftly.

Officer Quinter South, to another park. He walks slowly and have the, his weight on the cooking almost, but watching and listening. But the Mount Vernon post is my night.

A 13 year veteran of the horse and the father of two teenagers, Officer Quinter became a policeman for a specific reason.

“I like outside work” he said. “And when you’re on the streets, you’re your own boss.

“Inside jobs I don’t like. Same place same people, day in, day out… Rush to get the work, rush to get home, Friday go to the bank cashed the check Saturday mode of dress, Sunday go for a ride and get back in time city adult ones “60 Minutes”

“The kids watch Walt Disney,” he adds with a laugh.

So in 1965, after a short stint as a stock clerk in a department store, Officer Quinter joined the Army. He got into a pretty fair line of work for someone who hates routine and loves the outdoors; jumping out of airplanes.

After serving three years in West Germany, Officer Quinter returned to Baltimore and signed up with the city police.

It was a wild time to be a policeman; officer quarter started in the late spring of 1968, shortly after the riots that followed the assassination of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.

From the beginning, he patrolled the downtown area. In the late 1960s, this meant covering peace demonstrations in war Memorial Plaza, assisting the detailed and guarded George C. Wallace at the Holiday Inn, and watching the street and flower power people who flourish in the downtown Parks and classes.

Everybody was working 12 hours shifts; all hell was going on,” he says of that time.

He pauses then as: “I guess I just looked out [the station of your while in the Army]... I knew people who got killed over there [in Vietnam].”

Officer Quinter’s new assignment two years later was a continued reflection of the time; he was placed in a spectacular narcotics unit, working out of the uniform and specialized in marijuana and LSD busts.

The Mount Vernon then was a hippie haven, and hallucinogens were the drug of choice. Officer Quinter points with a nightstick to grouper row houses and 800 block of N. Charles St., “I remember reading a couple of these places up here,” he says. “I never had any trouble making arrests.” He adds.

It was more difficult on lower Pennsylvania Avenue – another area then in Officer Quinter’s purview – where hair when was King. “They [the dealers] knew what day you are off, what hours you worked... I used to keep up a little with the nicknames, I had a notebook with all the nicknames next to their real name and addresses.”

He laughs and recalls a few handles; “Huckabuck, mojo – they used to call me Mr. Quint.”

After two years of requests, and got, a reassignment as a foot patrol officer, working in downtowns Charles center complex. He says he’s been happy there ever since, have finally found an outdoor job it’s different every day of the week.

“Some people say they would never be a policeman, because the work is too dangerous,” Officer Quinter says. He pauses at the corner of North Charles and center streets, where two cabbies have stopped for coffee at the white tower, and shrugs. “I would be a cab driver, a bus driver, or anything. More citizens get killed out there than police.”

It’s getting close to 11 PM quitting time. Nearby young man swerves down the sidewalk, announcing that the kingdom of God is at hand. The patrolman’s miles in sighs.

“Once, I stopped the woman right near that drugstore there” – MacGilivray’s at read and Charles – “because I got a vagrancy complaint.

“I said, “Are you begging for money?” And she said. “Not today.”

Officer Quinter laughs and adds; “other officers see all these crazies; they say I attract them.

“But I think they’re interesting people; I don’t mind, sometimes, you just have to know the language.”

And with another laugh and a wink, Officer Quinter strolls off into the night, radioing for a patrol car to take it back to the station.

Each of our Districts have a rich history in the number of sacrifices made by our police for the citizens of Baltimore. Throughout this site you will find some amazing stories of the men and women that have served this city. If you know anyone that has, you should thank them for their service. Anyone with information, photographs, memorabilia, or other "Baltimore City Police" items can contact Ret. Det. Kenny Driscoll at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.">This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. follow us on Twitter @BaltoPoliceHist or like us on Facebook by clicking HERE pics can be mailed to Baltimore City Police History - 8138 Dundalk Ave. Baltimore Md. 21222

 

 

POLICE INFORMATION

Copies of: Your Baltimore Police Department Class Photo, Pictures of our Officers, Vehicles, Equipment, Newspaper Articles relating to our department and or officers, Old Departmental Newsletters, Lookouts, Wanted Posters, and or Brochures. Information on Deceased Officers and anything that may help Preserve the History and Proud Traditions of this agency. Please contact Retired Detective Kenny Driscoll. This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. 

NOTICE

How to Dispose of Old Police Items

If you come into possession of Police items from an Estate or Death of a Police Officer Family Member and do not know how to properly dispose of these items please contact: Retired Detective Ken Driscoll - Please dispose of POLICE Items: Badges, Guns, Uniforms, Documents, PROPERLY so they won’t be used IMPROPERLY.

This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

Please contact Det. Ret. Kenny Driscoll if you have any pictures of you or your family members and wish them remembered here on this tribute site to Honor the fine men and women who have served with Honor and Distinction at the Baltimore Police Department.

Anyone with information, photographs, memorabilia, or other "Baltimore City Police" items can contact Ret. Det. Kenny Driscoll at  This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. follow us on Twitter @BaltoPoliceHist or like us on Facebook or mail pics to 8138 Dundalk Ave. Baltimore Md. 21222

Copyright © 2002 Baltimore City Police History - Ret Det Kenny Driscoll 

Baltimore Police Strike

The Baltimore Police Strike was a 1974 labor action conducted by officers of the Baltimore Police Department

Striking officers sought better wages and changes to BPD policy. They also expressed solidarity with Baltimore municipal workers, who were in the midst of an escalating strike action that began on July 11. On July 7, police launched a campaign of intentional misbehavior and silliness; on July 11 they began a formal strike. The department reported an increase in fires and looting, and the understaffed BPD soon received support from state police. The action ended on July 15 when union officials negotiated an end to both strikes. The city promised (and delivered) police officers a wage increase in 1975, but refused amnesty for the strikers. Police Commissioner Donald Pomerleau revoked the union's collective bargaining rights, fired its organizers, and pointedly harassed its members.

The Baltimore action was one of few police strikes in the United States since the Boston Police Strike of 1919. Although it was followed by a wave of police unrest in other cities, it remains one of a very few notable police strikes in US history. The action was also a test case for the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees (AFSCME), which was rapidly growing in size and strength but had not had much success in unionizing police officers.

Police Unionization in Baltimore

City officials opposed the organization of police as a group of workers, fearing the breakdown of order that might result from police strikes. However, Baltimore had a high proportion of minority and pro-union officers. Police officers who wanted to unionize met in secret for years before voting in 1966 to form Police Local 1195, a chapter of AFSCME. One of Local 1195's key leaders was Thomas Rapanotti—a labor organizer who worked in a coal mine, then at Martin Aircraft, then for AFSCME. Rapanotti expanded the union in Baltimore and made inroads into surrounding counties.

The Fraternal Order of Police (FOP) immediately presented itself as a competing union. FOP Lodge #3, which still exists, and is independent of other types of workers and less militant as a labor group.

Conflict with Pomerleau

Baltimore's Police Commissioner, Donald D. Pomerleau, was particularly hostile to the idea of a police union. He repeatedly declined requests (from Baltimore's AFSCME Local 44 as well as from within BPD) to recognize Local 1195, even when much of the police force had joined.

Local 1195 and its allies in organized labor voiced many complaints against Pomerleau. In addition to criticizing Pomerleau's changes to department policy, they accused him harassing and intimidating union leaders. The AFL–CIO called his actions 'union-busting'. In 1968, officers picketed BPD headquarters and demanded his resignation. Grievances with Pomerleau continued to mount. In a 1973 grand jury investigation on corruption within the BPD, Rapanotti accused him of spying and of applying polygraphs tests selectively only to lower-ranking officers. Banned from striking by its constitution, in March of this year the union began to consider job actions.

Collective Bargaining

By 1973, about 2,000 of Baltimore's 3,500 police officers claimed membership in Local 1195. AFSCME leaders and representatives from other public employee unions and organizations pressed the City of Baltimore for collective bargaining rights and higher wages. Some of the officers had worked previously at Bethlehem Steel and been on strike before.

In November 1973, Pomerleau agreed to recognize collective representation for police and held an election to choose an exclusive bargaining agent. He stipulated that whatever the result, no secondary boycotts, slowdowns, stoppages, or strikes would be allowed. Local 1195 won the election by a large margin, with 1,488 votes to 769 for FOP 3. Turnout was 85%. After Local 1195's victory, Rapanotti laid out a 26-point proposal for the city.

Local 1195 immediately attempted to make good on the promise that collective bargaining might improve conditions and wages for police officers. The police asked for an increase of their salary range from $8,761–$11,082 to $12,500–$14,500. The city offered 5.5% raise, with a 0.5% increase in benefits. This package had recently been accepted by other city workers, including teachers, who went on strike in February of the same year. (The salary raise was 5.5% or 20 cents an hour, whichever was greater for the workers at hand. For many other municipal employees, 20 cents an hour was greater.) On June 30, Local 1195 voted unanimously to reject the city's offer.

Actions begin

The lead-up to the police strike was a period of radical labor activity and unrest, sparked by a walkout of the city's garbage collectors.

Municipal workers Strike

Main article: Baltimore municipal strike of 1974

On July 1, 1974, over 700 sanitation workers walked off their jobs in a wildcat strike (against the wishes of their union leadership in AFSCME Local 44). Workers cited low wages (they wanted a 50 cent raise instead of a 20 cent raise) and undignified conditions (heat, exhaust fumes, and poorly maintained trucks) as reasons for striking. Mayor Schaefer threatened to fire them all. Soon after the strike began, AFSCME announced its support and sent major leaders from its national offices. By July 7 approximately 2,500 municipal sanitation workers, corrections officers, and other personnel had gone on strike. The atmosphere created by this strike emboldened the police force to push harder for their own demands.

Police Job Actions

Baltimore's police officers sympathized with other city workers, increasing their readiness to strike. The municipal strike—with garbage pileups and rioting inmates—also created an atmosphere of crisis, in which the role of police would be especially conspicuous. On July 6, the union formed a Steering Committee, with 84 members, to plan job actions intended to pressure the city for negotiations. According to the findings disclosed by a 1977 court case, these actions had "tacit approval" from Commissioner Pomerleau, who also wanted the city to negotiate further.

On July 7, police began 'job actions' that signaled their discontent. Officers would write lengthy reports on pennies ("objects of value") found along the side of the road and would turn obvious samples of tobacco over to the police lab for drug analysis. There was a massive increase in traffic stops and a 1000% increase in tickets issued. One ticket led to an altercation resulting in three arrests. Mayor Schaefer's limousine was ticketed twice. Kenneth Webster, a state Delegate, was arrested (on littering charges), for tearing up one of these tickets in front of the ticketing officer. John A. Lann, a police officer, was arrested and suspended from the BPD for blocking traffic on the newly constructed I-83. Union officials threatened a total strike if he was not released.

These actions mounted day by day and garnered widespread attention. On July 10, police cars blocked two out of three lanes on Franklin St. downtown.

Decision to Strike

Pressure for a strike had been building since the new contract was announced on June 30. Rapanotti opposed a full strike, predicting (correctly): "This thing is only a week old. If you pull and strike at this moment, they're going over there and offer the garbage men some money, and we're going to be standing there holding our Yo-Yo's." But after four days of job actions, the union's members were ready to escalate.

After meeting for an hour and a half on the afternoon of Thursday, July 11, members of the Steering Committee decided unanimously to go on strike.

Police officers strike

At 8PM on July 11, 39 officers on the 4PM–12AM shift returned to their stations and turned in their equipment. They were joined by 33 members of the Tactical Section Only 96 (of 238 scheduled) showed up for the midnight shift. Striking officers established picket lines at seven stations. The Baltimore Sun reported that looting began immediately in West and East Baltimore.

Strikers formed picket lines and carried signs reading "I will not die for 5.5" and "Professional Pay for Professional Service".

Striking and Non-striking Officers

It is estimated that nearly 1,300 police officers of the 2,300 went on strike. Non-Striking officers worked overtime: 12 hours a day, 7 days a week. (According to Pomerleau, there were only 565 strikers; most sources said his estimate was too low.)

Newspapers reported tension between striking and non-striking officers. "Don't trust that guy," one striking officer said of a working officer to a national guard soldier. Some non-striking officers likewise felt betrayed by their fellow workers and by Local 1195, which was officially a non-striking union.

Officers of the Fraternal Order of Police released statements opposing the strike.

Fourteen white youths picketed the strikers, displaying signs that said "Safety First; Money Second".

Effect on crime

After the walkout on Thursday, July 11, the BPD and the fire department received increased reports looting and arson. Trash fires (facilitated by the sanitation workers' strike) were the most common violation reported. These fires intensified immediately in southwest Baltimore, where all 22 officers on the night shift had walked off. Fire alarms increased to hundreds per day, and some firefighters were harassed when they arrived on the scene. Areas already high in crime saw more of it.

Police reported that the city was particularly quiet on the night of Friday, July 12. This abrupt halt in reported crimes coincided with the visible arrival of outside forces.

One man, identified as a looter, was shot and killed by a non-striking officer on July 12. Commissioner Pomerleau declared, "We're in a semi-riot mode, similar to the 1968 riots." However, activity in the streets never reached the same levels, and much less damage resulted.

Government Response

The strike met with opposition from the city government, the state government, and the judiciary. These authorities reacted more severely to the police strike than to the simultaneous municipal strike.

Before midnight on July 11, Circuit Judge James C. Murphy issued an injunction ordering the strike to end immediately. This injunction had no immediate mechanism for enforcement.

On July 12, Maryland governor Marvin Mandel ordered outside police help from 115 state troopers and ten canine units. They arrived with 100 cruisers and a tractor-trailer carrying two jeeps. These troops were outfitted with riot weapons but wore soft hats instead of helmets.

The Maryland National Guard was put on alert but Mandel said he did not expect them to become involved.

Also on July 12, Commissioner Pomerleau announced that 457 officers had been suspended.

On Saturday, July 13, Judge Murphy declared a fine for each day of striking—$25,000 for the union and $10,000 for Rapanotti. He also threatened Rapanotti with jail if the strike continued beyond 10AM on Monday, July 15. (Murphy issued parallel threats to union leaders connected to the ongoing municipal workers' strike.)

On July 14, Pomerleau fired 82 offices and demoted 9 detectives and 18 police agents (officers with college degrees). All the officers fired were 'probationary', meaning that they had served on the force for under two years; Commissioner Pomerleau stated that these officers were not entitled to hearings for their jobs. He further announced that there would be "no general amnesty", and that all striking workers would be fired unless they resumed their jobs immediately.

Negotiations

The police walkout quickly triggered negotiations for both police and the striking municipal workers. Union representatives and city officials met for five hours on July 12, the day after the night shift walkout. With leaders of both Locals under direct threats from Judge Murphy, marathon negotiations continued day and night, with few breaks. These negotiations were tightly controlled by outside representatives of AFSCME, who temporarily suspended Rapanotti for negotiating without accompaniment.

On Sunday, July 14, AFSCME negotiators responded to Commissioner Pomerleau (who had just fired 82 officers, threatened to fire more, and declared no amnesty) that amnesty would be a condition of settlement.

On Monday, July 15, the city announced its settlement with Local 44: a 25 cent raise immediately, and an additional 45 cents in 1975. The arrangement with the police was less clear. According to Mandel and Pomerleau, union leaders had promised that the officers would return to work. Leaders of the police union then announced in a press conference that they had been "assured of fair play" and that "many would be reinstated"—but there was still no promise of amnesty. Rapanonotti announced that the decision would be taken for ratification to a committee of strikers. Police officers would receive no immediate increase in salary. An increase of the salary range to $10,000–$13,500 was planned for July 1975.

Striking officers ratified the agreement on the morning July 16. Many of the strikers felt defeated, and most had already returned to work. Many of those who had been fired came to the meeting to express anger and frustration about the negotiations. Before this group would vote had to be reassured that leaders would seek amnesty.

Aftermath

Pomerleau announced that returning strikers would be treated harshly, writing in a July 18 letter : "I have asked the sergeants of this department to 'take charge.' If they wish to deprive a striker of an air-conditioned car or refuse to assign a striker to overtime duties that is their prerogative and, I will back them up." These returning workers were also banned from park and stadium patrols, and from assuming "officer in charge" status.

Pomerleau suspended and then fired George P. Hoyt, president of AFSCME Local 1195 and leader of the strike. Hoyt had been a member of the force for 17 years and was four days away from retirement when he was fired. Pomerleau subsequently fired dozens of officers, including all of Local 1195's remaining officials.

On July 25, Pomerleau issued a message, posted on bulletin boards and read for three days at roll call, which distinguished between strike leaders and followers. In this message, he specified the offenses that would in particular be punished:

As these are completed, please be assured that varying actions will be taken on an individual basis against
1) those officers from the Southwestern District and Tactical Section who deserted their posts at or about 2000 hours on Thursday, July 11, abandoning the citizens and endangering their brother officers,
2) those who instigated, planned, and implemented the walkout of Tactical and Southwest,
3) those who conspired to diminish the department's ability to respond by:
   a. jamming communications
   b. mixing keys in the Motor Pool
   c. blocking departmental [buses] so reinforcements could not move expeditiously, and
   d. holding open mikes 

4) those who exhorted and even coerced other officers to strike
5) and those who spat upon their brother officers. These men will be dealt with.

Thomas Bradley, president of the Metropolitan Baltimore Labor Council (a regional arm of the AFL–CIO), promised to establish a committee "who will see to it that there are no reprisals". AFSCME president Jerry Wurf also promised to help the officers get their jobs back. These campaigns were ultimately unsuccessful.

Judge Murphy fined AFSCME $15,000 and union organizer Thomas Rapanotti $10,000. None of the striking officers or leaders were imprisoned.

Impact on the union

On July 17, Commissioner Pomerleau revoked the union's right to bargain, citing the terms of his 1973 order. He also announced and announced that union dues would no longer be 'checked off' automatically from workers' paychecks and that union leaders would not be allowed to visit police headquarters unescorted.

The union of police supervisors (Local 1599), withdrew their membership in AFSCME.

Local 1195, along with AFSCME, filed a lawsuit against Pomerleau and Mandel for union busting and illegal spying. The suit also accused Captain Donald E. Einolf and Edward Crowder as agents of an anti-union conspiracy. This lawsuit was lost in 1977.

The city refused to allow police collective bargaining (let alone right to strike) until 1982.

Resentment

With no reprieve from the city, the formerly striking officers turned to Governor Mandel, asking him to re-authorize their union and impose amnesty. Mandel, feuding with AFSCME president Wurf, refused to assist them, declaring that he would prefer to lose the union's support in his re-election campaign.

Some officers felt sold out, or used as "cannon fodder," by the union leaders. Twenty of the officers who were fired sued national and local AFSCME offices in 1977 for false representation and negligence, charging that they should not have authorized an illegal strike that could lead them to lose their jobs.

Tension persisted between strikers and non-strikers. Some of the officers who did not strike opposed amnesty for those who did

Firing of Bomb Expert Sought
ROGER TWIGG
The Sun (1837-1987); Sep 19, 1974;
pg. C2

Firing of bomb expert sought

Baltimore Police bomb squad expert, who devised an item that enables police to defuse homemade bombs in packages from a distance was recommended for dismissal yesterday after a departmental trial board hearing.

Officer Leopold J, Luberecki a 16-year veteran was found guilty of three or five departmental counts stemming from the police strike.

Officer Lubereck had been a member of the steering committee of the police union, Local 1195 of the American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees, which voted to strike the night of 11 July 1974.

Officer Luberecki said he voted against the strike that night and then reported for work. He was found guilty of violating the general order not to strike, having knowledge of a strike vote that caused a mutiny and being absent without leave for an hour.

Officer Lubcrecki said he was off the day after the strike began and spent an hour going around delivering signs to picket lines. He added that he was called back into work, but made a "one-hour token walk-out" after being called His lawyer, Paul D. Bekman, argued that the bomb expert was no different than those in earlier cases who simply had received reprimands.

Knowledge of Strike

But, Millard S. Rubinstein, the assistant attorney general assigned to the Police Department, argued during the hour-long hearing that because the officer had knowledge of the strike he deserved more than a reprimand. Officer Lubcrecki devised a bomb-control device that is in use in various law enforcement agencies around, the country, a police spokesman said. The board's order is subject to review by the police commissioner, Donald D. Pomereau, who is authorized to modify the trial board recommendations. In one case the commissioner differed with the three-member board, according to sources. Officer Jerome Buccola, the Southern district shop steward. He had been recommended for dismissal, but the commissioner instead suspended officer Buccola for two months and then allowed him to return to duty.

NOTICE

How to Dispose of Old Police Items

If you come into possession of Police items from an Estate or Death of a Police Officer Family Member and do not know how to properly dispose of these items please contact: Retired Detective Ken Driscoll - Please dispose of POLICE Items: Badges, Guns, Uniforms, Documents, PROPERLY so they won’t be used IMPROPERLY.

Please contact Det. Ret. Kenny Driscoll if you have any pictures of you or your family members and wish them remembered here on this tribute site to Honor the fine men and women who have served with Honor and Distinction at the Baltimore Police Department. Anyone with information, photographs, memorabilia, or other "Baltimore City Police" items can contact Ret. Det. Kenny Driscoll at  This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. follow us on Twitter @BaltoPoliceHist or like us on Facebook or mail pics to 8138 Dundalk Ave. Baltimore Md. 21222 - Rolland Fullen

Copyright © 2002 Baltimore City Police History - Ret Det Kenny Driscoll

Baltimore Fire 1904

 
The Great Baltimore Fire of 1904
Baltimore In Ruins After The Great Fire Of 1904

WILBUR F COYLE
The Sun (1837-1987); Feb 29, 1920; - pg. A6

One black night from the home of City Hall I saw Baltimore burn. I will never forget that site. Few people have ever been privileged to look down upon the populous city and watch as his very heart was eaten. It was a terrible hollering experience – to look. Look. Look. And know that there was no force to stay the flames: the thousands of human beings must stand important and hopeless while myriads of hot, red tongues withered everything in their path.

It was as a memorable night of 7 February 1904 – the night of black despair – to which I refer: when Baltimore was swept by a conflagration almost an equal in the history of American cities: when modern building after modern building, heretofore assumed to be fireproof succumbed that with amazing rapidity. Fireproof – amiss – the term refers to something that does not exist. I saw Baltimore burn: I know. Yes, 7 February 1904 was a terrible day followed by a more terrible night. The city was stunned and thousands of individuals common exhausted by fruitless efforts to rescue their goods and merchandise had abandoned hope.

Late last night, utterly fatigued. I was at the city library, City Hall. Suddenly I remembered that hanging upon a book almost within reach was the key to the dome. I was tired – “deadbeat” – but I realized that never again with an opportunity be presented to see such a spectacle. What time it was I do not know. Because I did not know then. I took no note of time in its flight. With the key of the dome, I went from the third to the fourth floor where, in the West car door, is a door which bars the way to the dome. Just then I encountered two men from York Pennsylvania who had, on a special train that brought the fire apparatus of that city to our city I invited those strangers to go along. The little door blocking our path responded readily and we began to gradually ascent through the narrow, black Connell was laying its semicircular courts through walls of solid Masonry just where the dome shows above the roof that covers the winds of the City Hall.

The passage was [in fact is] so contracted that we had to go single file and with great caution. As we slowly rounded the curvature of approaching the point of exit above we notice through the narrow aperture the reflection of the flames. It seemed almost that the City Hall itself was on fire. This strange uncanny staircase, which upon that particular night had all the unpleasant tree suggested of a dungeon. It was connecting to a link between the lower region and a large circular mid dome apartment into which we emerged. This is, in reality, a great barrel 50 or more feet from its stone floor to the ceiling. The view in all directions is unobstructed through immense oblong windows extending almost from top to bottom facilitating and unhampered observation.

The view from the dome from the Crystal room – it may be sowed designated because of the number of character of its window – there extends a long spiral staircase which brings the traveler to the section of the dome where the clock in the apparatus that run it are installed. I had intended to climb those precipitous stairs and keep going, but I did not do so. The spectacles to those long windows of the Crystal room were almost paralyzing in its effect. One’s power of a locomotion’s seemed affected. I was utterly tired. I wanted to CARL up. To have gone higher one of added nothing to the view. It was all laid out before me – splendid old Baltimore was ablaze. It seemed to that the lower part of the city had caught fire, so near had the flames crept, and the sweeping glance to the south showed that the entire section between the building and the waterfront was read. Great columns of fire viciously stabbed at the darkness; flames passed from building to building, from block to block. Leaving nothing but blazing the breeze, gaunt gutted buildings, and desolation in the wake.

Mere words can convey no adequate idea of the terrible scene: any description must fail. It was maddening to realize that dear old Baltimore was burning like tender and that no human power could render effectual aid. This strange room was for the time being sheltered me from the dense smoke and flying embers that fitful dust sent over the dome was itself brilliantly illuminated spasmodically. The effect of the fire was startling. Flash after flash being accomplished by dull “boom” of explosions, which concussions mingled with countless other unwanted disturbances incident to the fire.

I really do not think the extent of Baltimore’s catastrophe is now appreciated. As I watched that night as flames ate their way through its heart I did not see how the city could ever recover. Think of the vastness of the destruction: from liberty Street on the west, Jones falls on the East, Charles and Lexington streets on the north, with all the buildings on the south side of Lexington Street to St. Paul Street, either going or gone, and a great battle staged on St. Paul Street to save the courthouse. Which was next in the past of the destroyer – that was the appalling situation 17 February 1904. It is beyond the imagination to picture 140 acres of a compact city like Baltimore burning or wrecked. It was terrifying to realize that there was practically no limit to which the fire fiend. Now on harnessed, might you go, it seemed as a look down upon it that the fire would take it’s course to the whole of East Baltimore contagious to the waterfront and burn, burn, burn until open country was reached. And so I am convinced it would. Had not it’s course been stayed by that filthy stream, the Jones Falls.

A grand total of 1526 buildings, many modern, its preparation of skyscrapers and in addition for lumber yards where the fuel for that disastrous combustion. Truly an appalling panorama it was as viewed by the all struck watchers away up in the dome of the City Hall. Acres blazing or in ruin, and no relief in sight how long I was in the dome I have no means of estimating. But suddenly I heard faint shouts. Which noises I knew could come only through the narrow channel of which I had climbed. I knew, too, the call was a warning, although I really felt there was no immediate danger, I lost no time in retreating through the tunnel and was soon back on the corridor on the fourth floor. It developed that a watchman, no doubt making his rounds, found the door of the dome open and, suspecting that someone was up there, had reported the discovery to the custody and of the building. The latter wisely decided to make an investigation, and as the searchers ascended it was there shouting which I heard and answered.

At that moment the City Hall was in no danger, but it wasn’t long before the doom seemed sealed. Only those who were in the building that night realized a close call it had. True, to the westward, whence the fire earlier came, the hall was then protected by the courthouse in St. Paul Street side of which was damaged and also by the granite post office the stone structures acted as a screen for the municipal building and both would have succumbed before the City Hall was attacked from the West. The threatened assault, however, did not come from that direction at all but from the southeast. I cannot recall the variations of the wind that fiery night nor the phenomenon that occurred. But it is a fact that the flames had swept from west to east and seeming well beyond that City Hall zone, slowly worked back from the South was southeast. Coming steadily toward the big structure this was the situation when I returned from my venture into the dome.

The flames approach. From the first branch Council chamber member a good view of the approach and fire would be obtained and when I went there I found the number of persons assembled. The fine chamber of commerce building a few blocks away to the southeast was ablaze midst a score of others insight and the destroyer were beating back with seeing a deliberate purpose of getting the smaller structures along Fayette Street, opposite the exposed southern when of the City Hall. It wasn’t long before all the buildings across narrow Fayette Street were ablaze and all but one, the Giddings bank building at the southeast corner of Fayette and Guilford Avenue, were utterly burned, correct, collapsed. Through the balance of the night, a determined flight was put up to save this antiquated bank and strange to say this effort was successful. With blazing structures across the street, it seemed for a period that the City Hall must certainly catch. The heavy window glass was hot and with myriads of sparks in the air seeking lodgment in the edifice, there seems little chance of escape.

The catastrophe was so widespread and appalling that the senses were actually deadened or numb and a building more or less did not seem of great Monument. I glanced about the sumptuous chamber luxurious in his heavy draperies, it’s walnut furnishings and costly carpets and I wondered whether the moment had come to put into execution a plan I had to save the most valuable objects insight – the portraits of the mayors of Baltimore. Although many of these paintings have since been removed and distributed throughout City Hall, a score or more at present hangings in the mayor’s sweet, they were at the time of the fire all in the two chambers of the Council. The great wall space in each branch was covered, the rooms, in fact, were a portrait Gallery of consequence, containing as they did effigies of the mayors from James Calhoun 1797 to Thomas G. Hayes 1903. There were other fine paintings in the group, particularly of the men – including Gen. Samuel Smith – who took part in the defense of Baltimore in 1814. Such artists as Charles Wilson Peale, Rembrandt Peale, Thomas Sully and others of a lesser population were represented. The campuses, some of which were very large and heavily framed, or of great intrinsic value and historically and sentimentally priceless.

Earlier in the night [or day for it may have been daylight] I had labored to get all the records in my custody out of City Hall when it seemed to the building was directly in the path of the fire and it was almost a personal disaster to have to abandon the portraits of those fine men who had in a sense, then the builders of Baltimore. I determined these paintings should not be abandoned. I would cut them from their frames!

This I could do quickly. For I had a trusty knife ready, and with the assistance of the others present it would not be a difficult job, I could roll the campuses up and escape with them under my arm – but when should I cut?

That was, in reality, a burning question. From the other side of Fayette St., South to the waterfront, the city was ablaze. The City Hall would be next. Nothing was now between it and the fire. Was a time to strike? I waited: I waited. The structures across the street were gone. Somehow the blistering heat did not burst the heavy window glass and ignite the hall. The showers of sparks passed harmlessly by. The miracle had been wrought. Daybreak with the terrifying spectacle it revealed was at hand. The little party in the Council chamber broke up. Such was the culminating incidents of the night spent in the City Hall while ruin reigned without. A night that followed a day into which had been crowded, and the experience of the average individual, gloom, dismay, fear amounting almost to terror.

In The First Hours

early in the day [7 February 1904] it was noised all over town that a great fire was spreading to unwanted proportions involving a considerable area, but no one dreamed of the impending danger. I went downtown in the early afternoon and called at a newspaper office to obtain information concerning the conflagration. I was asked by the editor to procure a plat of the S. Library St. section where the fire was raging, the purpose being to reproduce the chart immediately in connection with the story of the conflagration. I went to the City Hall to get a map and brought forth a large atlas containing, among other charts, the plat requested. Some persons on the sidewalk seeing me emerged from the hall was a mammoth atlas set up a shell and twitted me, assuming I was taking the record to a place of safety because of the fire than half a mile or so distant. Those looters must later have credited me with supernatural wisdom or discernment. Only a few hours elapsed where not only myself but other city officials were nervously hurrying wagon loads of records from the City Hall. I did not let my atlas get out of sight and before it could be used the newspaper office was in flames. By that time the volume was back in city halls library. I saw to that personally. 

Meeting the Records

Sometime later when the big Continental building at the corner of Baltimore and Calvert Street became luminous: flames streaming from every window. I thought the City Hall and post office doomed. So and others. There would be no further delay; we must move. I had engaged some teams [so I thought] to meet the emergency but who could hold conveyances under such conditions? People with frantic and offering fabulous sums to have their goods moved, in front of almost every establishment along Baltimore, Lombard, South, Calvert, and scores of Streets wagons parts and rays were backed up, loaded in hustle Austin to drive away and deposit their burdens in another building which surely fell prey to the flames. This, unfortunately, was the experience of very many. 

There were few officials at the City Hall that memorable Sunday. Mayor Robert M. McLean, clad in a fireman’s outfit, was one the fire line of the superintendent of buildings and his force was on St. Paul Street assisting in saving the Zen new courthouse. But I recall three persons I met momentarily at the hall – Mr. William A. Larkins then deputy Commissioner of Street cleaning: deputy city collector Hartman, now judge of the Appeal Tax Court, and Mr. Frank J Murphy, clerk of the same court. To Mr. Larkins and Mr. Murphy, I feel I owe a debt of gratitude. The form of voluntarily sent me a detail from history cleaning forces to assist in removing invaluable records from the city library, and Mr. Murphy suggested that I share it struck he had managed to commandeer, which with the one I seized enabled me to clear the city library of many official Street opening plats, books and other records, the loss of which would have been irreparable. 

Danger to the Library

Quite a. A force of men was carrying out these archives. The drivers were instructed not to unload the wagons under any conditions. I think the records were sent to Union Station. At all events, they were taken to the place of safety and returned immediately after the fire. Though several times were taking out this did not make a great impression on the whole equipment. Many, many books were left in the cases, but the rarest of the collection was sent away. And I loaded myself down was my arms, including first records of Baltimore town in Jonestown: the first directory of Baltimore town and fell’s point and such. As a final choice, I would have turned the crowd on the streets into the library rather than see the books destroyed, on the chance of getting some back again. Many merchants did this in an effort to salvage their stock. 

While stirring around the city all I ran into Mr. Hartman, deputy collector. We passed each other in a rush, but I reminded him that in a large attic room where the accumulated tax records of over a century which were doomed if the building caught. It was the work of days under ordinary conditions to remove these. And Mr. Hartman said the books would have to be abandoned. He was desperately intent upon getting the “live” records of his department out of harm’s way since these showed what money was due to the city from taxpayers of the volumes meant not only chaos and irreparable confusion but the loss of the municipality of millions of dollars. 

All the strenuous physical effort. Mental strain and sustained excitement was very exhausting, and having done my utmost in the circumstances to protect the city property and records in my custody I went back to the city library. Where the key to the dome suggested a trip, heretofore described, to that point. 

I remain downtown in the fire zone, or at my office until 6 o’clock that evening – Monday. 8 February 1904, I was as black as a minor when I got home and so tired I seemed in a trance – yet I was but one of many thousands in the same flight. Some were half-crazed by their losses, demoralization and disorganization were complete. Everyone had been laboring under intense excitement, accompanied by a depressing sense of irreparable loss. The city was shocked beyond measure. As I write all this seems an occurrence of yesterday rather than of 1904. It is almost impossible to conceive that a new generation has risen which has no personal knowledge of that moment this occurrence. Oft has the statement been made that Baltimore is better as a result of that fire. I made it myself, and it is true – but I always make a mental or rather sentimental reservation. It did make possible the building of a splendid system of municipal docs; it did give the opportunity to widen streets, and there is no question that in many physical respects this city has splendidly advanced. It, too, wake the people and they have since been more alive to their opportunities. The spirit of broad is an evidence of this – yet even to this day, it makes me sick to think how building after building, landmark after landmark went up in a flash of flame and a puff of smoke. 

As to chance – well possibly it is necessary to make all Baltimore look like new; to get away from the original surveys; to turn Cal paths into boulevards, to revamp, rebuild and beautify from time to time but how much of the old city individuality, or personality was destroyed in the process? 

Is it better than Baltimore look new and bright and smart and modern and right up to the minute – rather than an orderly, enterprising, populous city with a dash of quaintness, and suggestions of historical associations in its buildings and streets? Has a city like Boston lost anything by adhering to its old areas to early surveys, and accentuating, rather than destroying and obscuring evidence of its antiquity? Well, well, I’m getting over my head now, – let’s get back to the fire, for a brief period. 

This started at 1048 [the time registered by thermostat alarm] in the six-story brick building occupied by the J. E. Hurst company, wholesale dry goods and notion house, and German [Redwood] and liberty streets and Hopkins place. In his report Chief Engineer Horton said, “The fire raged until 11:30 AM Monday, 8 February 1904” but this does not mean necessarily it was then extinguished. As a matter of fact, it to load and burned brightly along the eastern extremity of the area until much later, an estimated 36 hours and all. There is no way of accurately computing the loss, but $125 million is the generally accepted estimate, taking all elements in the consideration. This figure is, however, more or less arbitrarily set. 

No one was killed during the fire, though some firemen sustained injuries, and there were wild rumors of many fatalities. Mayor MacLean refused all outside financial aid and he announced to the world that Baltimore would rebuild through his own efforts, which it did was amazing rapidity. Several cities, however, rendered valuable assistance at the fire – apparatus, and fighters being rushed there from several points. Written 29 February 1920 as described by the city librarian Wilbur F. Coyle – The City Librarian, describes the destruction of Baltimore by fire, 16 years ago this month February 29, 1920, as seen in the City Hall dome – the removal of the records – the plan to cut valuable portraits of mayors from their frames to save them from the flames. These are the personal Chronicles of one who from City Hall Saul Baltimore burning

A COUNTRY OF GREAT FIRES

Some of the Blazes That Have Cost Millions of Money and Many Lives 

The United States has, it is said, a record of destruction by fire not equaled by any other country. The greatest, of course, was "The Great Fire," which swept Chicago in 1871, burning over 2,124 acres, nearly covered by buildings, causing the loss of a great many lives and a property loss of more than $100,000,000. 

The Greatest Fires Baltimore had ever known up to this time were the Clay street fire of July 25, 1875, and the Hopkins Place fire of Sunday, September 2, 1888, both of which are described elsewhere. Big fires in other parts of the country have been as follows: 

Savannah, Ga., in 1820, 463 buildings and $4,000,000 value destroyed.

New York, in 1835, 530 buildings, 52 acres burned over, and $i5,000,000 of property destroyed; In 1845, 300 acres burned over, $7,500,000 value, 35 lives lost.

Charlestown, Mass., in 1838, 1,158 buildings.

Pittsburg, in 1845, 100 buildings; $1,000,000 property value.

St. Louis, in 1849, 15 buildings; $3,000,000 value; in 1851, 2,500 buildings destroyed. Philadelphia 1850, 400 buildings.

San Francisco 1831, 2,500 .building’s and a number of lives lost; property -value, $10,000,000.

Portland Maine, in 1866, over one-half the city 200 acres burned over and 1,743 buildings destroyed.

Boston; in 1872, 65 acres or mercantile section burned, including 776 buildings, nearly all of brick and stone construction; property value, $75,000,000.

In June 1889, Seattle, Wash., was destroyed, the loss being $30,000,000. Two months later Spokane- Falls burned. The loss being-$7;000,000.

At Lynn, Mass., In November of the same year $5,000,000 worth of property was consumed. Within a few days, the fire broke out in the dry goods· district of Boston and property valued at $6.000,000 was burned.

In October 1892, a fire at Milwaukee caused a loss of $6,000,000,

At Hoboken on June 30, 1900, the North German Lloyd. Piers and steamships sustained a loss of 10,000,000 and 200 lives were lost.

At Jacksonville, Fla., May 3, 1901, loss estimated at $12,000,000 and 1,300 houses were burned some lives were lost, but the number was not exactly known. . .

October 25, 1901, · In Philadelphia, 19 persons were killed and about $500,000 damage was done by a fire in Hunt, Wilkinson & Co.'s furniture warehouse, on Market street, near Wanamaker's Store.

At Waterbury, Conn., February 2 and 3 1904, Damage now estimated· at $2,500,000 was done.

New York; March 17, 1889, The Windsor Hotel fire, in which 45 persons lost their lives and a property loss of about ·$1,000,000 caused.

7 Feb 1979

The Great Baltimore Fire of 1904:
Isaac Rehert
The Sun (1837-1987); Feb 7, 1979;
pg. B1

7 February 1979 marked the 75th anniversary of the worst disaster ever to strike the city of Baltimore known as “the great Baltimore fire” what follows are two recollections of that fire

The Great Baltimore Fire of 1904:
Two Neighborhood ‘Girls’ Remember

By Isaac Rehert

It began at Hopkins place and German (now Redwood) streets, in the warehouse of the J. Hurst Company; from there it quickly spread to surrounding buildings.

For 2 ½ days, it raged, eating its way eastward in a roaring, hissing sheet of red flames across the half-mile front reaching from Fayette Street to the harbor.

Before it was contained at the Jones falls, it has consumed an area of more than 140 acres, destroying 1500 prime office and manufacturing buildings, leaving Baltimore’s entire business district a graveyard of smoking black embers.

Financial losses were estimated at between 100 million and $150 million.

Two little girls living in Baltimore during those faithful days – both now in their 80s – still recall the fear, the danger and excitement of those few days, when the destruction of the whole city seemed imminent.

One of them, Rosa Kohler Eichelberger, has written a book about it for children and young adults called “big fire in Baltimore,” just published by Steiner house a local firm.

The other, Esther Wilner Hillman, in an interview, has related a little-known facet of that stirring piece of Baltimore history.

Rosa Kohler Eichelberger

“It was a bitter cold Sunday morning, about 10 or 11 O’clock, with first got her attention where the fire engines, shrieking by every minute, with their sirens and their bells. We knew there had to be a big fire somewhere.

“We were living at 329 North Carrollton Ave. – one of those three-story houses with little white steeps. It was a beautiful neighborhood in those days with lots of teachers and doctors living in our block.

“I was eight years old. Daddy was a telegrapher for Western Union. His office was in the Equitable building, but that was one of the first buildings to go and later they set up a transmission office in the addict of Welch’s restaurant.

“There were any telephones and radios, so we didn’t know about the fire – until the claiming of the fire engines. With so many of them passing, we all ran outside and when we could see the sky to the east all lit up with flames, and the dark black smoke gathering and blowing in the distance”

that, for the little girl, was the beginning of three of the longest event-packed days of a long active life – days of anxiety, of furious chasing around town, of our order world turned suddenly to chaos, of vents that it’s themselves permanently into her mind.

She never forgot them; she could never imagine how any Baltimorean – whether he lived through the fire or not – could ever forget them.

“Later, when I was grown, I work with children in the playground athletic league, and I would ask them what they knew about the Baltimore fire. “It burned me up. They didn’t know a thing. I told him about it and they were shocked. I said to myself. Someday I was going to have to write that story.” One reason the children hadn’t heard was because of the immediate, far-flung, effective action in the city to rebuild.

There was a brief mood of pessimism; but then-Mayor Clay Timanus created a “district commission,” and public officials, merchants, and financiers got to gather with plans and activities.

By the time Rosa Kohler’s playground children came along, but memories of the fire were lost in the first pink glow of Baltimore’s first Renaissance.

But she didn’t intend that it should be lost. “Later, I lived in New York, and we would have a dinner party and I would tell people I was from Baltimore and I would bring up the subject to the fire. “They look at me with eyes full of doubt and it asks, “oh did Baltimore once have a fire?”

“I had always love to Baltimore, but remarks like that – they started my inner fires raging and I began to think again about writing my book.”

Her head was still full of memories, but the first night when her mother disappeared.

“Nobody knew where she was, nobody could call or wire, we were getting information but only through the grapevine.

“Everyone was frantic, we imagine the worst, nobody slept.

“The fire was spreading the other way, but embers were blowing back in our direction, and we never knew whether our house might catch fire.

“Men wore celluloid collars in those days. And I remember one man – and Amber landed on his collar and set fire to him. They had to douse him with a bucket of water to put them out.

“That night, and every block, they set up bucket brigades on the rooftops keeping watch in case the houses of catch fire.

“Next morning mother showed up. She has spent the night with a friend on Biddle Street, helping her pack and move in case the win to turn and flames eat up that part of the city.”

She Still Recalled What the Fire Did to Her Grandfather

“He was in the shoe business. He had a factory on Water Street and three retail shoe stores. One was in the old son building on troll Street in Baltimore Street. I remember it so well, on the same floor was a shop selling Minsk badges and another for the Warner Hat Company. I used asked myself, how does the company make out selling nothing but badges?

“Daddy couldn’t go to work Monday, so he went with my grandfather to see if they could save the factory. There were hordes of people downtown. They came to go to work, just as they always did. They had heard there was a fire, but it was a workday, so they knew they had to get up and go to work.

“The military was out – and dandy fifth – keeping the spectators away from the danger zones. People standing around watching got so excited that sometimes when a wind came up, it would scatter some paper money that somehow didn’t get burnt up. But nobody would bother chasing it.

“They couldn’t save grandfather’s factory. It was completely gone. Everything stank up and burned. They found the foot of water on the floor, and they were sloshing around. Trying to find what might be left when my mother showed up.

“Nobody was supposed to get through the military lines. But mother was good-looking and somehow she made it.

“When she appeared, she looked at my father’s what feet and smiled. She said she knew it would be that way and she had bought him a pair of dry socks.

“Grandfather never rebuilt his factory; he was too old. He did reopen some stores, but he could never get used to selling shoes made by someone else. It was never the same.”

It was in her late teens that rose: the first decided she had to write a book about the fire. She had attended St. Catherine’s normal Institute, at Harlem and Arlington avenues. But she never went to college. Instead, she went to work as a recreation leader, where one of the jobs was telling stories to children.

Naturally, she would tell him about the fire. Later she wanted to be an actress, and read please with the vagabonds and with the war camp community service, the World War I organization providing recreation for servicemen.

She left Baltimore to travel with Chautauqua lectures, drama and other assorted kinds of culture to cities and small towns all over the country.

She became a professional storyteller, and one of the highlights of her career was telling stories at Hull house in Chicago where Jane Adams was at the crest of her fame.

In Chautauqua, she met her husband, Clark Eichelberger, a lecture on international affairs. He subsequently became a United Nations diplomat and has written a number of books in that area.

In the 1950s, [she was then approaching the age of 60] Mrs. Eichelberger took a course at the New York University in writing for children and shortly afterward published her first book, the Bronco close,

On the strength of that success, she has come New York publisher if he wouldn’t be interested in a long dash projected book about the Baltimore fire. He wasn’t.

“He said to me, “but you know, Mrs. Eichelberger, every little town in America has had its big fire.”

“That made me so mad.”

So she decided to write the book 1st and see if she could pedal it afterward

“I wanted children to see the fire as it actually happened. So I centered around the 12-year-old boy named Todd who wanted to become a Western Union telegrapher – he learned the moss code by practicing it on his gate latch – and he carried information to everyone about the fire.

“I get up every morning at 5 o’clock and work on this thing. Later in the day, I had my regular job and my housework to do

“getting up that early, I’ve wondered often how many millions of talented women writers have been smothered under housework. “I finished that manuscript, then I rewrote it, and then I rewrote again, again and again.

“Then I began talking to publishers, but nobody in New York was interested.

“It never occurred to me that there might be a publisher in Baltimore until one day I attended a reunion of old new dealers in Washington, and a friend of mine from Baltimore was there, and she told me about Barber hold bridge and stammer house. “I wrote to Barbara and she was interested right away.

“And that’s how it happened”

“After those kids, I personally told the story of the Baltimore fire to. I’m glad now that finally, it’ll be available to them all.

“My next book? I’m thinking about tackling my memoirs.”

Esther Wilner Hillman

There’s a Messiah on the door jam, and on the window, little decals about Israel. The walls are hung with pictures of children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

And there’s a big homemade greeting card tacked on the kitchen door from someone who I would say loves her.

Esther Wilner Hillman, 82 years old but looking nowhere near that age, is animatedly talking on the telephone, and the soap operas playing on the TV behind her.

But when you tell her you’ve come to hear her reminiscence about the Baltimore fire, everything stops.

Hastily she tells her friend, “I’ll call you back,” hangs up and leaves the instrument off the hook. She quickly turns off the TV. She explains that people are often here because she collects clothing to forward to poor people in Israel. And that today is her 82nd birthday, so she’s getting lots of calls.

But right now, first things first, “I’ve been waiting over 50 years to tell the story about what our Jewish people did in the Baltimore fire. Now that I’ve got a chance to do it, everything else is going to wait, even my birthday calls.”

First, though, a cup of tea – tea with maleness – that’s jelly or preservatives to sweeten it. And the cookie – you can’t drink tea without a cookie. Is it hot enough? If it isn’t hot enough, so warm it up.

Now that she sure that you’re comfortable, she begins her tail.

“I’ve tried to tell the story before, but they weren’t interested. All my life nearly every Friday I’ve been reading writing about the fire, but nobody has ever written what our Jewish people did. It was this way.” And she begins.

“It was bitter cold, just like today. We were living on sharp Street, at Camden.”

Sharp Street, she explains is the old name for Hopkins place. [It still Calls Sharp St., South of Pratt Street]

“That’s where the fire began, and Johnny Hearst place, right near the corner of German [Now Redwood] and Sharp.

She narrows her eyes and looks off into the distance, the better to see the exact corner.

“He was in the Drygoods and Notions business. So the stuff all over the South,” she looks solicitously into the teacup to be sure it isn’t yet empty, then continues her story.

“In those days, South Baltimore was a Jewish ghetto from Baltimore Street down to about Cross Street market.

“On the Shabbas, everything shut down because everybody went to shul.

“But Sundays, they worked. Half a day, from 8 o’clock till two. Other days, they worked 12 hours. And they had to put in six days. Otherwise, they didn’t get their full pay. It was four dollars a week. Imagine, and today they made gets four dollars an hour.

“Anyway, my father worked for soul Ginsberg, whose factor was across the street from the Hertz.

“He’s going to work that morning as usual, at about 10 o’clock he came hurrying home caring these enormous books, weighed down with them. I’d never seen him look so intense and burdened. They were the ledgers from Ginsberg. “He slapped them on the chair and said to my mother, don’t let the children bother them. Tseppenin, that’s the word he used. “Then he ran back for more ledgers, and then he took my older brother, Sam, with him, back to the plant, to help them carry out bolts of cloth. Sam was nine years old. I’ve only seven. The bolts were so heavy, it took three of them to carry each one. But they kept running back and forth bringing more bolts until the police wouldn’t let them go back anymore.

“And then my father told everybody what happened. He had smelled fire and smoke, and a sent some of the workers to break the fire alarm. And then to stand at the corner ~fireman game. Remember, they were horse-drawn engines in those days.

“They saved all they could. What made it so sad was that there was a hardware store next door to the hearse, and they kept barrels of gasoline and coal oil out on the sidewalk – they weren’t allowed to keep them indoors.

“And then the fire read to them they exploded. It was terrible, after that, nobody was allowed to go back in, and the police went house to house throughout the road, telling us to get ready to move out, in case the winds shift toward the south. “We ran upstairs and carried down all our perenes (eiderdown quilts). What else do people have in those days? And then boys ran around and notified everybody who had a wagon to stay on alert – case we had to move. But thank God, the wind didn’t shift to the south.

“That night we children all slept downstairs on the perenes while our parents poured buckets of water on the roof, in case a spark should handle them.

“I remember father on the roof. And a mother on the sidewalk down below, filling the bucket and tying a rope to it so the men could port up.”

She interrupts to refill the plate holding the cookies. Do not homemade she apologizes. But you can’t get around as well as he used to.

“Now where was I? Oh, yes, sleeping on the perenes downstairs. You know, I’ll never forget that. Asked me what happened yesterday, and I won’t be able to tell you. But those days the fire, I’ll never forget.

“You know, it after just a couple of hours it was clear that it was so big that our firemen couldn’t handle it alone. So they sent help from other cities – from Washington, from Philadelphia, from door fall, from Richmond. “Of course, the firemen from out of town couldn’t go home, even the Baltimore firemen couldn’t go home. They would work for four hours, and then they were exhausted needed the rest, but in four hours they had to start again. “So the police came to our neighborhood and asked us to help. “The firemen needed hot coffee, could we keep a pot always going on the stove? And could do firemen come in and sleep in our houses? “Ordinarily we never use the parlor in winter, so it was always cold. We ate all meals in the kitchen. “But my father filled the big Latrobe stove with wood and coal, and we dragged the perenes in there on the floor, and that’s where the firemen slept. “Of course you couldn’t just give a man coffee without a bun. So my mother, like all the other women, began baking bread to feed the firemen. “I remember an old man, his name was Singer, he was very pious, and he kept a strict kosher grocery store. He sent over so many things. Without the charge, naturally. “On Camden Street, a family named Surasky kept the department store. It wasn’t like a department store today, but in those days it seemed very large to us. They sold everything. They sent boots for the firemen, and woolen socks, woolen caps, earmuffs, mittens. Whatever they had they sent, and everything was free of charge.

“My mother worked day and night, the only rest she got was on the couch in the kitchen. And my father and Sam were busy keeping the stove going day and night. “For us children, it was terribly exciting. Although strange men sleeping and eating in our house. “Since they slept around the clock, the house had to stay quiet, and my job was to watch the smaller children so they shouldn’t make any noise.

“Of course, the firemen were all black from the start, and they would wash and dry themselves on our towels – and the towels turned all black. I remember my mother standing all day over the washboard, scrubbing them clean. My father strong lines around the kitchen which were full of drying towels.

Our toilet in those days was outdoors, and we didn’t want to ask tired firemen to use that, so my father provided them buckets. I remember him and my mother caring the full buckets out and empty ones back in.

“Only the following Sunday, after it was all over, my father took us up there. What used to be such nice buildings were now all open fields. You couldn’t even tell where the streets had been.

“Everything was smoldering. I remember picking up a piece of black sender. As I held it, it still smoked.

“Back in the house, now the firemen were gone. Everything was so quiet. I remember how I missed the excitement. “But now we had to clean up. “We had no linoleums were rugs on our floors – everything was bare wood. And all the boards were black from soot. “The floors now had to be scrubbed clean. What a job that was!

“Downtown eventually was rebuilt, and the story the fire has been written and told hundreds of times.
“But nobody ever told the part our South Baltimore Jewish community played in it.

“I’ve always said that before I died, I want to tell the world that story.

“Now, thank God I’ve told it so the people will know.”

By Forrest Griffith Sr circa 1904

I Remember ... THE BALTIMORE FIRE OF 1904

FORREST GRIFFITH Sr

The Sun (1837-1987); Feb 4, 1973;

pg. SM2

I Remember ... THE BALTIMORE FIRE OF 1904

84-year-old Forrest Griffith recalls the most famous fire in Baltimore city history happening 69 years prior when he was just 15 years old he tells the story as follows

I remember the Baltimore fire of 1904… Sundays were quiet family affairs on N. Carey St. when I was a boy of 15 some families devoted to mornings to church, some to browsing through the Sunday paper, there was the usual huge dinner, which was even at midday. See the rest of the afternoon, the adults had time for a nap and the children did their homework.

A certain Sunday 69 years ago began as calmly as ever at our house 904 N. Carey, but before noon Joseph began coming in from Sunday school, told by their teachers to go directly home and stay off the streets. There was a big fire downtown.

By noon most of Baltimore new the story. For this particular Sunday was February 7, 1904, and “the big fire downtown” was what is still known in Baltimore as the fire, the biggest in local history.

The fire raged control for two days and flared up again and again in scattered spots for several more. At the end, 140 acres of downtown Baltimore has been reduced to smoldering ashes, 1500 buildings were destroyed. And the loss was estimated at hundred and $50 million.

All boys and men ran to the fire in those days, the men to help, the boys to watch. There was a sort of detached fascination in watching firemen fighting a fire in somebody else’s neighborhood. But watching the fire your own neighborhood, seeing something close and familiar burned, gave you an added tingle of apprehension. So it was with the fire on this day. We live 10 or 12 blocks – a mile or more – from this fire. It was somebody else’s neighborhood, in the matter of distance. But from our street, we could see the clouds of black smoke, shot through the sky of flying sparks. We could smell the smoke, and we could hear the distant clanging of the horse strong fire engines.

My father and I wanted to go right away. My mother didn’t want us to, afraid we might be in danger. There was a sort of compromise. Dinner was almost ready. In those days, meals weren’t prepared by defrosting heating and serving. It took an efficient housewife all of a busy morning to put a good meal together. And when she called the family in the dinner, it was unthinkable that anybody would let it sit there and get cold, earthquake, flood or fire notwithstanding. So after we had our dinner – my father and I went to the fire.

We walked, and our steps quickened with every block. The closer we got the louder the noise. There were the noises of shouting men, the clattering of steel horseshoes on the cobblestones, the rattling fire engines, the shouts of the firemen. And over it all, the frightening roar of the fire itself, a wild and angry, unleashed an invincible sound that I haven’t forgotten. We got so close that the smoke paid us a cough and we had to beat out the flying sparks falling on our clothing.

The picture reproduced here is one I drew late that afternoon when we got home. It was my first glimpse of the fire. The scene is the intersection of Mulberry and St. Paul Street. Looking West on Mulberry.

My father was a salesman for the Heinz Company. When we got home, I turned over one of his business letters and sketched the picture with a pencil. I can explain my compulsion to draw the scene, except the new I had seen something terribly important. Later I outlined the pencil line with a pen. I finished the drawing with watercolors.

After the picture was done I lost interest in it. There was too much going on. While the fire burned, and for many days afterward, nobody could think of anything else. At that time I was a student at the high school at Howard and center streets. It later became City College. Classes at our school, and I presume and many other schools, were dismissed for 10 days or two weeks.

I assumed my picture had been thrown away. Then a few years later, my sister India, founded in a drawer somewhere “I like this picture,” she said, “I think it should be preserved” she took it out had it framed and later gave it to me as a birthday present.

I’m glad she did, now I wouldn’t part with it for anything.

In later years I learned to draw much better. I went to the Maryland Institute when it was located at the marketplace – and was graduated in 1912 as a gold-medal student in mechanical arts, which is to say I held my classes’ highest average for my four years there.

But my crew version of the great fire still brings back the feeling I had that day when I got my first look at it.

The picture is now a pattern of smudged browns, Blacks and grays, for the bright colors I applied on that Sunday in 1904 have long since faded to everyone except me.

A writer, who witnessed the Baltimore fire, made this sketched the day the fire began. It depicts what he saw at the intersection of St. Paul and Mulberry streets, looking West on Mulberry Street.

MILLIONS IN A FEW BLOCKS
The Sun (1837-1987); Feb 8, 1904;
pg. 1

Millions in a Few Blocks a Detailed Estimate of Loss in the Wholesale District

A careful and conservative estimate of the loss in the wholesale business district. In which the fire originated, places it at something over $11 million. This district is bounded by Baltimore, liberty, trolls and Lombard Street and contained many of the largest dry goods, clothing and shoe houses in the city, besides two prominent banks the national exchange and Hopkins place savings bank. This estimate was made for the sun last night by Mr. George E. Taylor, of the insurance firm of Jennise and Taylor, holiday water Street. Mr. Taylor set in his office dictating to a reporter of the sun until it was stated that the fire was only a few doors away when he found it necessary to remove the valuables and papers from his office.

The estimate is for each building in the section, the loss giving representing the building with its contents. According to this the heaviest losers were John E. Hearst and company, R. M. Sutton and company, and the Daniel Miller company all of which were heavily stocked with dry goods, and in each of which cases the loss in building and content was placed at 1 ½ million dollars. The Armstrong, Cator and company’s loss is estimated at half 1 million, and the great majority were hundred thousand dollars or more a piece. This district contained about 125 buildings, among them some of the finest business structures in town, which were occupied by more than 150 firms.

At 330 this Morning

At 330 o’clock this morning the fire had not crossed Jones falls on the East although a number of lumber yards on the west side of the falls were ablaze. The wind was still from the north.

West of trolls and north of Lombard the fire had practically burned out. East of trolls and south of Lombard the flames are still spreading. It was expected to reach Pratt Street before daylight. The fire probably will reach the waterfront west of Jones falls. The Lutheran Church and Broadway and Canton Avenue caught fire at 3 o’clock.

Signs of Abating

Mayor McLane and Dr. Geer have just returned from a circuit of the fire, the mayor said; “I feel the conflagration shows some signs of abating. I have received a telegram from New York stating that the fire department of that city has sent over six engines, six those carriages, six trucks and horses. These will probably reach Baltimore between six and 7:00 AM” police Marshall Farnan said: “I think the fire is practically under control.”

FLAMES SWEEP SOUTHWARD
The Sun (1837-1987); Feb 8, 1904;
pg. 2

Big buildings fire swept in a remarkably short time

Archibald McAllister, a fire patrolman, discovered the blaze. Smoke was coming from the basement of the John E Hurst and company building. The automatic alarm has registered and McAllister turned in the alarm from box 447, on the corner. When chief Burkart arrived flames were going out through the roof, and in 10 minutes, it is said, and the roof and the floors of the Hurst building had fallen. The reports of the collapse could be heard for miles.

For the Hurst building, the fire jumped northwesterly across liberty Street and attacked the building of Carr, Owens and Hindman, drugs, on the northwest corner of liberty and German streets. Then the national exchange bank, on the northeast corner, court and the fire was on its way to Baltimore Street. In less than an hour Hopkins place, liberty Street and the south side of Baltimore Street between liberty and Hanover Street was devastated.

Sparks inflaming Amberg fell in a shower almost impossible to walk through as far as Charles Street, and every building within these limits was on fire before 1 o’clock.

From Baltimore Street south on Hopkins place in liberty Street the flames were halted for a time by the high winds. Daniel Miller and company’s establishment, adjoining that of Hurst and company, caught in less than a half an hour. Mr. J. Albert Hughes, the manager, carried out a few books, but the important papers and holdings of the company, which were in a vault on the first floor, could not be reached by the time the smoke and heat drove out Mr. Hughes and a few employees who had forced their way inside. The Miller building was burned from bottom to top by 1 o’clock and the fire had jumped across Hopkins place and into the upper floors of R. M. Sutton and company warehouse, 33 and 35 Hopkins Pl. The Stanley Brown drug companies place, 31 Hopkins Pl., had burned slightly, but not until Suttons was almost destroyed in the fire burst out of the drug house.

TWENTY-FOUR BLOCKS BURNED IN HEART OF BALTIMORE
The Sun (1837-1987); Feb 8, 1904;
pg. 1

City’s most valuable buildings in ruins – loss Variously estimated at from $50 million-$80 million

Blaze Still Sprinting Eastward and Southward At 3:30 AM

Starting in John E. Hurst building the fires sweep South to Lombard, East of Holliday and North to Lexington, destroying wholesale business houses, banks, Continental, equitable, Calvert, B. And oh. Central, the sun, and other large buildings

Fire, which started at 1050 o’clock yesterday morning, devastated practically the entire central business district of Baltimore and at midnight the flames were still raging with his much fury as at the beginning. To all appearances, Baltimore’s business section is doomed. Many of the principal banking institutions, all the leading trust companies, all the largest wholesale houses, all the newspaper offices, many of the principal retail stores and thousands of small establishes went up in flames, and in most cases, the contents were completely destroyed.

What the loss will be in dollars no man can even estimate, but the sum will be so gigantic that it is hard for the average minded to grasp its magnitude. In addition to the pecuniary loss, will be the immense amount of business lost by the necessary interruption to business while the many firms whose places are destroyed or making arrangements for resuming business.

There is little doubt that many men, formerly prosperous, will be ruined by the events of the last 24 hours. Many of them carry little or no insurance, and it is doubtful if many of the insurance companies will be able to pay their losses dollar for dollar, and those that do will probably require time in which to arrange for the payment.

Appalled at the Silence

All day and all night throngs crowd at the streets, blocking every Avenue to the fire district and moving back out of danger only when forced to do so by the police on duty. Many of the spectators Saul they’re all the way up in flames before their eyes, and there were men with hopeless faces and the spring expressions seen on every hand. In fact, the throng seemed stunned with the magnitude of the disaster and scarcely seemed to realize the extent of it all.

They stood around usually in days silence, and only occasionally with the word of despair be heard. That they were almost disheartened was apparent to the casual observer, and there is little wonder, for the crushing stroke fell with the suddenness and lightning from the cloudless sky.

Starts in Hurst Building

At 1050 o’clock in the morning the automatic fire alarm box, number 854, in the basement of the wholesale dry goods house of John E Hurst and company, German Street and Hopkins place, sounded an alarm. Almost before the alarm had reached the various engine houses the entire building was boring mass of flames from top to bottom.

Gasoline Explodes

After burning fiercely for perhaps 10 minutes there was a loud explosion from the interior of the building as the gasoline tank he used for the engine in the building let go. Instantly the immense structure collapsed and the flying, blaming the breeze caused the flames to be communicated to the adjacent buildings on all four corners.

By this time the first of the fire apparatus had reached the scene and was quickly put to work, but the fire had already gone beyond control and swift with irreversible and irresistible force and credulous swiftness on its devastating way. It was known that the configuration would prove vastly destructive, but not one of those who witnessed it at this time of imagined for an instant the terrible results of this would ensue.

Chief Horton Disabled

Chief engineer Horton, of the fire department, was quickly won the ground, but scarcely had he begun to direct the force of firemen when a live trolley wire fell on him at the corner of liberty and Baltimore streets, knocking him senseless, and he had to be carried to his home and placed in bed. By this accident, the city was deprived of the services of its most experienced and trusted firefighter, and although district chief Emerich, who succeeded chief Horton in command on the ground, did apparently all that was possible, those present could not but regret that chief Horton was not there.

Mayor McLane came down and was on the ground until a late hour in the night. He walked around the burning district and conferred with various officials as to the steps necessary to be taken and various stages of the fire.

It is thought the loss will be over $50 million.

Aid from Washington

For general alarms, force is the least sent in and within half an hour after the first alarm, every piece of fire apparatus in Baltimore was on the ground and at work. Realizing the gravity of the peril a telegram was sent to Washington for aid and two engines from that city were placed on a special train and hurried to the city over the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad in record-breaking time. It was said that the trip was made in 37 minutes.

It was an all aspiring site to witness the progress of the flames. A building eight or 10 stories in height would suddenly break in the flames from top to bottom almost in an instant and wood burning fiercely until with a crash that would be heard for blocks the walls would collapse and the spot is marked only by a heap blazing ruin. The crash of falling walls is almost incessant and now and then could be heard the muffled form of an explosion as some gasoline tank or chemical substance became ignited by the heat and let go with a terrific force.

Many Firemen Injured

Every minute almost the lives of the firemen were in imminent danger from falling walls or leaping flames, and more than 50 of them were carried from the ground more or less severely burned, and dismayed by the danger or hopelessness of the task, however, they continued the unequal struggle, and took the hose into narrow alleys, where the flames ward menacingly overhead on both sides of them, and directed streams of water where it was thought of some effect could be produced.

Long matters were placed against the walls of fiercely burning buildings and brave firemen climbed up and broken windows and turned streams of water into the doom buildings until the walls weighed and rocked and the crowd of onlookers shouted to them to come down, and many turned away their eyes and momentary appreciation of a fatal calamity.

Apparently, every person in Baltimore was in the vicinity of the fire, and the various streets leading to the fire district will Paxil during the entire day. The entire police force, in charge of marshal Farnan and deputy Marshal Manning, was on the ground and with ropes succeeded in keeping the crowds back from the dangerous points. As the fire spread further and further the ropes were shifted and the crowds moved back one block at a time.

Great Building Gone

Dissection devastated contains the largest and most modern buildings in the city and this renders the calamity the more appalling. Immense office buildings, 10 and 20 stories high, large modern wholesale houses made of brick and steel, all disappeared as it builds of the flimsiest material.

The exact origin of the fire is not known, but the explosion which started spread of the flames to other buildings is said to have been caused by gasoline engine in the Hurst building Mr. S. F. Ball on Fayette Street who was standing on the corner of Sharp in Baltimore Street when the fire first broke out, said that in less than 10 minutes the entire Hurst building was a boring mass of flames from top to bottom. When the explosion occurred Mr. Ball was cut on both hands and a whole was cut through his hat by flying fragments of glass.

To Lombard St.

From German Street fire spread rapidly to Lombard Street, leaping from building to building, and sometimes skipping two or three buildings at a time and in this way a block would become ignited in a remarkably short space of time. At Lombard Street the fire paused for some time and the large building of Guggenheimer, will, and company stood for a time apparently undamaged. It was eventually doomed, however, and all arrangements were made for Dynamiting it in order to save the Lloyd L. Jackson building, just across Lombard Street. The Guggenheimer, well and company building suddenly burst into flame and in a very short time the floors began falling in with a crash, the heaviness of graphing machinery, when many times, causing a detonation that made many think the place was really being dynamited. The walls quickly followed the floors and the Jackson building was saved after a hard struggle.

A number of other buildings on the south side of Lombard Street became ignited, however, and both sides of that Street from liberty to Charles or practically ruined, the houses on the north side being completely destroyed and those on the south side, with the exception of the Jackson building, badly damaged

Across Sharp Street

Meantime the flames had swept through the block to the east and quickly began destruction of the buildings on the west side of Sharp Street. With scarcely a pause they jumped over to the east side of Sharp Street and the large roller buildings on that side of the street began to sparkle and burn. Hardly had a portion of the fire apparatus been shifted to meet the new point threatened when the fire was sweeping madly across to the west side of Hanover Street, and there the scene was repeated. Almost before the firemen realize the fact the building on the east side of Hanover Street was blazing.

To Baltimore Street

At this time the scene in this portion of the burning district was magnificent in its spectacular grandeur. Looking up Hanover Street to Baltimore nothing but a seething boring mass of flames, mingled with dense smoke, could be seen. Baltimore Street itself was a boring furnace. On every side were flying senders, the war of the flame was broken at frequent intervals by the crash of falling walls and now and again the detonation of some explosive sound it along with other sounds of destruction.

Dynamite Used

After crossing Hanover Street there was little to oppose the one rushing flames and the blaze continued its destructive course without a check to Charles Street. Prior to this time there have been many talks of dynamiting the material was on the ground and Mr. Roy C. Lafferty, the government expert, who would come from worse and especially to take charge of the work of dynamiting the buildings, was on the ground with his apparatus and readiness. By the time it was thoroughly realized that the flames were completely beyond control and only desperate measures could be expected to relieve the situation. In this straight city engineer Sindall and Mr. Lafferty lady charge in the building adjoining Armstrong, Cator, and companies on the West and set it off. The building fell with a crash but the blazing ruins ignited the Armstrong building and the situation was if anything made worse.

Armstrong, Cator and company’s building burned rapidly. A largely charged dynamite was let off in it, but the structure failed to collapse and the idea of destroying it with dynamite was abandoned.

The flames by this time were raging fiercely all along German Street to Charles Street and it was then that Mr. Lafferty set off six charges of dynamite, each charge containing 100 pounds, in the building at the south-west corner of Charles and German streets the tremendous force of the explosion tore out massive granite columns that supported the building and left it with apparently almost no support, but those walls failed to collapse and stood until the flames had crossed Charles Street and were eating into the block between Charles and light streets.

The Carrollton Goes

The fire had meantime been communicating to a row of buildings on South Charles Street, between German and Lombard streets, and all those places, occupied principally by wholesale produce and grain dealers, were in flames.

Shortly before midnight, the Carrollton hotel was in flames and the wire was sweeping toward Calvert Street with irresistible fury.

The firemen working on the south side has succeeded in checking the flames at Lombard Street, and as the wind was blowing from the Northwest there was no danger of it spreading further in that direction. The Western limit had also been reached and Howard Street and the danger was now on the east and north.

The progress of the flames toward the north had in the meantime been so rapid as to be simply appalling. From structure to structure the blue, looking up the massive buildings as if they were composed of paper. In the block between German and Baltimore Street, they flew along, and almost before it could be realized the building along Baltimore Street were blazing from the roof to the basement.

Mullins in Ruins

For a time it was hoped the fire could be kept from crossing to the north side of Baltimore Street and the firemen made a desperate effort to prevent it. The effort was useless, however, and soon the tall, narrow buildings of Mullin’s hotel began to dart out tongues of flames from several stories and in a few minutes, the entire building was an immense flaming torch. At almost the same instance the remainder of the building between sharp and liberty streets were blazed and the fire began its march to the North. The small two and three-story buildings on little sharp Street burned comparatively slowly in this narrow space and to Washington companies fought a plucky battle with the devouring element.

They were Hammond in on both sides by fire and directed the streams at the buildings from which smoke and flames were pouring, at a distance of only two or 3 yards.

Across Charles Street

it was utterly, heartbreakingly useless. The flames darted rapidly from place to place, and soon the entire south side of Fayette Street was in a grasp of the flames. Down Fayette Street, to Charles Street, they swept, and in a space of time that seemed incredibly short, the building occupied by J. W. Pots and company was evidently doomed.

Seeing that nothing could save it Mr. Fendall, acting under instruction from chief Emerich, decided to destroy the building with dynamite, in the hope of preventing the fire from crossing Charles Street. The explosion was successful in accomplishing the object, and the entire corner collapsed instantly, but this had apparently, no effect upon the progress of the fire, for almost before the sound of the falling walls had died away the building on the east side of Charles Street began to blaze, and it was evident that the block between trolls and St. Paul Street was doomed.

Calvert and Equitable Company

And desperate, but futile, effort to prevent the fire from going any further to the east, building after building was done dynamited in this block, but it was all of no avail and the fire proceeded steadily forward. The daily record building was soon in flames, and not many minutes later the fire had leaped over St. Paul Street and the lofty, massive Calvert building began to admit smoke and flame. The Equitable building, just over a narrow alley, quickly followed, and these two immense buildings gave forth a glare that lighted the city for miles around.

It was thought that the fire could be prevented from crossing to the north side of Fayette Street and here again a desperate stand was made by firemen. Again it was useless, and soon the large building Hall, Haddington, and company, on the northwest corner of Charles and Fayette Street, was blazing brightly. With scarcely a pause the fire darted across to the east side of Charles Street and began to lap up to handsome building of the union trust company, while at the same time the large buildings to the west of Hall, Haddington, and company, occupied by wise brothers and Oppenheim, Oberndorf and company, were in flames throughout.

DEVASTATING FIRE IS STOPPED AT LAST
The Sun (1837-1987); Feb 9, 1904;
pg. 2 Declared under control at 5 PM after raging 30 hours

Leaps the Falls into East Baltimore

The Loss Now Estimated At From $75 Million to $150 Million

On Philpott Street – Business Heart of City a Scene of Desolation

After 30 hours defiance of all human agencies, the fire which began at 11 o’clock Sunday morning was officially declared under control at 5 o’clock tonight. In the burned district extending from liberty on the West, the Philpott Street on the East, and from Pratt Street on the south to Lexington Street on the north small islands of fire continue in a desolate waste but they have all ceased to menace adjoining property.

Up to last night, the loss was conservatively estimated by Mr. Alexander Brown and various prominent real estate and insurance men at from $75 million $250 million. These estimates are of course rough and not intended to be accurate for there is as yet no way of arriving at a definite estimate.

It is impossible for the human mind to conceive the magnitude of the disaster and it is utterly beyond the power of man to approximately depict the extent of the ruin and the far-reaching and disastrous consequences of the calamity.

Imagine a beautiful modern city of over 600,000 souls, with all the building, needs to house the population and the thousands of buildings needed to provide for its material prosperity and enterprise. Wholesale houses, built with all the massive stability that modern architectural ingenuity can suggest: elaborate financial establishments constructed with an eye to substantial richness and ornate design, lofty skyscrapers of handsome finish and magnificence of detail wearing far above the earth: elaborate retail stores, fitted in the expensive and artistic manner necessary to attract 20th-century buyers: immense containing all the latest and most expensive, machinery for supplying the critical needs of the present generation in the shortest possible time and in the least expensive manner. All of these and many more buildings, occupying block after block of busy streets and comprising the very center of commercial life, from which the entire population must draw its sustenance, either directly or indirectly.

The men of wealth were dependent solely upon this section for their annual income and the humble toiler was equally dependent upon it for his daily bread. The small merchant and Ardisson looked to the workers of this district for his patrons add prosperity and one and all the city inhabitants must derive their support from the products and profits of this section.

All this essential portion of Baltimore’s property and almost existence, is gone like the mists of morning, wiped out in a day, and in magnificent array of buildings the visible sign of our greatness and place among the cities of the land is tumbled around the ears of the citizens like house of cards knocked over as if in a wanton sport by the titanic hand of the giant fire

Ruin and Devastation

The erstwhile busy streets which echoed to the rumble of traffic are now choked and blocked from curb to curb was half burnt bricks, tangled masses of wires and long electric poles, and the citizens who tread them almost daily for years of the long life fails to recognize them. On each side, where formerly the vision was bounded by solid rows of bricks, the eye passes through the dismantled shells of towering walls or forms unobstructed to more distant scenes of ruin and devastation; where 48 hours ago the trolley cars applied unceasingly and the vehicles in traffic or pleasure wound in and out and the prosperous, happy pedestrians thronged on business or pleasure intent, the monopoly of desolation is relieved only by the sight of two or three workmen making their way slowly and toilsomely over piles of debris in an effort to cut away the tangle wires or by placing dynamite under tottering walls which threaten to topple on the heads of passersby and causing more destruction, clear the way for the Phoenix of the new Baltimore to rise from the ashes of her old self by the indomitable pluck and ingenuity of her people.

The Zone of Ruin

Starting at the corner of Lombard and Liberty streets, the fire zone extends in a rectangular five blocks in up to Calvert Street. At this point the varying winds caused the path of destruction to wind by devious and eccentric ways down to Jones’s falls, taking in the territory as far South as the North side of Pratt Street. At the falls a branch of the flames by some strange fatality of the wind, switch back and traversed the south side of Pratt Street to light Street, destroying every building along both sides of Pratt Street to the waterfront. Thence apparently taking the waterfront as a boundary, the flames swept down toward the east, consuming everything in their track and leaving only heaps of blackened and worthless ruins to Mark their path.

Help from Other Cities

Early Sunday it was realized that the fire department of this city was totally inadequate to cope with the conflagration and request for assistance were sent to Washington, Philadelphia, New York, Wilmington, Annapolis and other nearby towns the response was prompt and generous Washington sent three companies with apparatus, New York sent seven companies, Philadelphia responded with several companies, Wilmington sent one company, Annapolis sent almost her entire force, Chester Pennsylvania sent one company, all the suburban towns around Baltimore sent in their quotas and yesterday afternoon a small army of firemen finally baffled the flames.

Errors of Judgment

Many experienced firefighters expressed the opinion that, in the exigencies of the tremendous battle with the flames Sunday, when the fire first started, serious mistakes and judgment were made by those in charge it is said, that the men of the engine companies were placed in many instances where the danger to their own lives was greatest and the chance of any beneficial result almost nothing. It was remarked that almost the entire by am of water used was directed at buildings that were either burning fiercely or hopelessly doomed. By this method it is said, the firemen were placed in imminent danger of being crushed by falling walls or suffocated by the densely growing smoke. Time and again a lofty wall would totter and tremble for an instant and with an ominous rumble fall on the narrow street, while the members of the fire company who had been placed directly under it would barely escape destruction by a precipitate flight.

Many thought the available streams of water could have been used to much better advantage and the lives of the brave firemen better safeguarded if the streams had been directed principally to the buildings in the pathway of and not immediately contagious to the flames. By thoroughly drenching these buildings in advance of the fire, it is said, there would have been a much better chance for effective results.

Why Dynamite Failed

The same complaint was made of the use to which the hundreds of pounds of dynamite was put. The general opinion was that its use was too long delayed, and when it was decided to use it those in charge placed the charges in buildings too close to the flames and in such small quantities as to be entirely inadequate for the purpose designed.

The case of Armstrong, Cator and company building was cited in proof of this idea. It was pointed out that the dynamite was placed in an adjoining building already ignited and the ensuing explosion merely causes the flames to scatter and the burning debris set fire to the Armstrong building, causing the fire to spread with accelerated rapidity.

It was said that the use of dynamite was advised as early as 3 o’clock Sunday afternoon, and it was then pointed out that nothing else could be expected to bulk the flames, but city officials and those in charge of the fire, it is said, declined to take the responsibility of ordering the use of explosive and precious time was then lost.

When the dynamite was finally used, it is said, the charges should have been placed in buildings at some distance from the fire as entire block should have been demolished, thus providing a wide space over which the flames would have been compelled to leap in order to proceed onward much is allowed for the pressure under which the officials were working and stupendous nature of the unaccustomed responsibility which was thrust upon them but many persons cannot help sighing as they recall the fate of the brave firemen and think that he might have been spared had a different and bolder policy been used in fighting the fire.

Peril from Gasoline

Many expressions oh wonder were also heard at the immensity of the lesson that Baltimore had been taught in regard to the danger of the indiscriminate use and storage of gasoline in the city. For several years the sun has persistently and repeatedly pointed out the dangers of this treacherous and powerful explosive and has published case after case of loss of life or serious injury caused by this means, but the authorities have procrastinated and temper rise until this awful calamity to everyone the wisdom of the warnings of the Sun.

As surely as the kicking over a small lamp by the Cal of Miss Leary started the conflagration which practically destroyed Chicago 30 years ago, so surely did the gasoline storage tanks in the John E Hurst and company building the place in motion the muddy engine of destruction which has devastated Baltimore. But for the fact that this subtle, but tremendous, force was caged within the building, the fire would have undoubtedly resolved itself into an ordinary one, such as the local fire department has frequently handled effectively.

Once the mighty force within the insignificant looking tank was let loose, however, the proposition became different altogether. Instead of one building, there were four or five burning fiercely and communicating the flames to still others, and the firemen faced a situation when they arrived on the scene that totally exceeded their limitations of power.

Chief engineer Horton, of the fire department, was quoted in the sun not long since as saying that a dish of gasoline placed in a closed room could be allowed to evaporate and if a lighted match were applied to the keyhole the explosion which would follow would wreck the largest most substantial building in Baltimore, and the recent experience proves that Chief Horton did not underestimate the power of the stuff.

“Fireproof” a Delusion

Another fact that is claimed as emphasized by the fire is the other failure of so-called fireproof buildings to resist the power of intense heat. The Continental trust building, which on completion was heralded throughout the country as an absolutely fireproof building, was an easy prey to the flames Sunday night and now only the charred and dismantled all of the 16 story structure marks the position of the much vaunted fireproof structure. The Equitable building is cited as another “perfectly fireproof” building and when the menacing flames drew nearer and nearer to the building Sunday night the manager of the Western Union telegraph company is said to have laughed at those who advised him to get out of the building.

“This building is fireproof,” he is said to have responded. “There is no danger of it catching fire.”

Yet a few minutes later the manager and his corps of assistance were compelled to flee for their lives from the blazing structure. Instances of much heralded fireproof buildings which went up in flames and smoke on that direful Sunday could be multiplied almost without limit and the conclusion is clearly drawn that only by using proper precautions and protecting their buildings from the influence of fire and owners and occupants hope to escape disaster.

Under Military Control

Baltimore was practically placed under military control yesterday. Brig. Gen. Lawson Riggs and his staff established headquarters at the courthouse. The fourth and fifth regiments and troop a were placed on guarded every Avenue of approach to the burned district and on orders were issued to allow no one to pass without a military pass signed by Gen. Riggs.

In addition to the military, almost the entire police force of Baltimore reinforced the numbers of officers sent over from Washington, Wilmington, Philadelphia and other cities, assisted the military and guarding the lines, and a detachment of regulars from Fort McHenry Board over the post office, customs house, and other government property.

All these precautions were taken to prevent the looting which is almost universal when some dire calamity causes the human birds of prey to flock to the scene for purposes of the village and, perhaps murder. Ebling undoubtedly to the prompt and effective measures taken Baltimore has been signally free from this gruesome addition to her other calamities, and so far as can be ascertained not a case of the looting or violence has been discovered.

Crowds View Ruins

All day yesterday thousands of people congregated on the outskirts of the fire district to view with all the scene of desolation. The burning of Pratt Street powerhouse had tied up nearly all the cars of the United railway and electric company and only the York Rd., Maryland Avenue and one or two other lines were operated at all, and these could not reach the center of the city. For this reason, a vast majority of the curious crowds which visited the scene of the fire were compelled to make their way on foot, and the sidewalks of the streets leading to the fire were thronged with pedestrians during the day and early evening.

Wagons in Place of Cars

The tying up of the trolley line was in “ill wind” which apparently “good” to the proprietors of vehicles of every description and they practically made their own terms. At whatever price charged every vehicle that will carry passengers was kept busy taking people to and from their homes and caring passengers back and forth between the various depots.

In this connection, it is recalled that a novel site was witnessed Sunday night and one which, but for its extreme paths, might in many instances have been ludicrous.

Suspension of Business

All business was suspended yesterday, as there was little left in Baltimore’s wholesale district to do business on. Most of the merchants will call their salesmen off the road, having no stock to deliver to buyers. Others are arranging with out of state Jobbers in a similar line to take care of their trade pending arrangements for the resumption of business. What is true of the jobbing trade was true in all markets. Commission trade was at a standstill. Many of these houses were destroyed, and those who escape the flames were prevented from doing business by the impassable condition of the streets and by the rigid military guard which was maintained throughout the whole center of the city. Accommodations could not be obtained at the banks, and without credit, business is necessarily paralyzed. There was little heart for trade, however, and it will be many weeks before matters in this line will go along in their accustomed groove.

Great Baltimore Fire
The Aftermath of the Fire

The Great Baltimore Fire raged in Baltimore, Maryland, United States, on Sunday, February 7, and Monday, February 8, 1904. 1,231 firefighters were required to bring the blaze under control, both professional paid Truck and Engine companies from the city's B.C.F.D. and volunteers from the surrounding counties and outlying towns of Maryland, as well as out-of-state units that arrived on the major railroads. It destroyed a major part of central Baltimore, including over 1,500 buildings covering an area of some 140 acres (57 ha). From North Howard Street in the west and southwest, the flames spread north through the retail shopping area as far as Fayette Street and began moving eastward, pushed along by the prevailing winds. Narrowly missing the new 1900 Circuit Courthouse (now Clarence M. Mitchell, Jr. Courthouse), passed the historic Battle Monument Square from 1815-27 at North Calvert Street, and the quarter-century-old Baltimore City Hall (of 1875) on Holliday Street; and finally further east to the Jones Falls stream which divided the downtown business district from the old East Baltimore tightly-packed residential neighborhoods of Jonestown (also known as Old Town) and newly named "Little Italy". The wide swath of the fire burned as far south to the wharves and piers lining the north side of the old "Basin" (today's "Inner Harbor") of the Northwest Branch of the Baltimore Harbor and Patapsco River facing along Pratt Street. It is believed to be the third worst conflagration to affect an American city in history, surpassed only by the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, and the San Francisco Earthquake and Fire of 1906. Other major urban disasters that were comparable (but not fires) were the Galveston Hurricane of 1900 and most recently, Hurricane Katrina that hit New Orleans and the Gulf of Mexico coast in August 2005.

One reason for the fire's long duration was the lack of national standards in firefighting equipment. Although fire engines from nearby cities (such as Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. as well as units from New York City, Virginia, Wilmington, and Atlantic City) responded, with horse-drawn pumpers, wagons and other equipment (primitive by today's standards) carried by the railroads on flat cars and box cars, many could not help because their hose couplings could not fit Baltimore's hydrants. Very few, if any, were motorized in those early years except for steam engines.

Much of the destroyed area was rebuilt in relatively short order, and the city adopted a building code, stressing fireproof materials. Perhaps the greatest legacy of the fire was the impetus it gave to efforts to standardize firefighting equipment in the United States, especially hose couplings. Background
Almost forgotten in this day of strict fire codes is that in centuries past, fires regularly swept through cities, frequently destroying large areas of them. Close living quarters, lax, unenforced, or non-existent building codes; and a widespread dearth of firefighting services all contributed to both the frequency and the extent of city fires. The rapid growth of American cities in the nineteenth century contributed to the danger.

In addition, firefighting practices and equipment were largely unstandardized: each city had its own system. As time passed, these cities invested more in the systems they already had, increasing the cost of any conversion. In addition, early equipment was often patented by its manufacturer. By 1903, there were over 600 sizes and variations of fire hose couplings in the United States. Although efforts to establish standards had been made since the 1870s, they had come to little: no city wanted to abandon its system, few saw any reason to adopt standards, and equipment manufacturers did not want competition. Progression of the Fire
Fire was reported first at the John Hurst and Company building on West German Street at Hopkins Place (modern site at the southwest corner of the Baltimore Civic Center of 1962, later the 1st Mariner Arena) in the western part of downtown Baltimore at 10:48 a.m. on Sunday, February 7, and quickly spread. Soon, it became apparent that the fire was outstripping the ability of the city's firefighting resources to fight it, and calls for help were telegraphed to other cities. By 1:30 p.m., units from Washington, D.C. were arriving on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad at Camden Street Station. To halt the fire, officials decided to use a firebreak, and dynamited buildings around the existing fire. This tactic, however, was unsuccessful. Not until 5:00 p.m. the next day was the fire brought under control, after burning for thirty hours.

One reason for the fire's duration was the lack of national standards in firefighting equipment. Fire crews and fire engines came from as far away as Philadelphia and Washington that day (units from New York City were on the way, but were blocked by a train accident; they arrived the next day - Monday, February 8). The crews brought their own equipment. Most could only watch helplessly when they discovered that their hoses could not fit Baltimore's gauge size of water hydrants. High winds and freezing temperatures added to the difficulty for firefighters and further contributed to the severity of the fire. As a result, the fire burned over 30 hours, destroying 1,545 buildings spanning 70 city blocks—amounting to over 140 acres (57 ha).
While Baltimore was criticized for its hydrants, this was a problem that was not unique to Baltimore. During the time of the Great Fire "American cities had more than six hundred different sizes and variations of fire hose couplings." It is known that as outside firefighters returned to their home cities they gave interviews to newspapers that condemned Baltimore and talked up their own actions during the crisis. In addition, many newspapers were guilty of taking for truth the word of travelers who, in actuality, had only seen the fire as their trains passed through the area. All of this aside, the responding agencies and their equipment did prove useful as their hoses only represented a small part of the equipment brought with them. One benefit of this tragedy was the standardization of hydrants nationwide.

In addition to firefighters, outside police officers, as well as the Maryland National Guard and the Naval Brigade, were utilized during the fire to maintain order and protect the city. Officers from Philadelphia and New York were sent to assist the City Police Department. Police and soldiers were used to keep looters away and keep the fire zone free of civilians. The Naval Brigade secured the waterfront and waterways to keep spectators away.
Thomas Albert Lurz (b. January 9, 1874), a Baltimore native, made a career as a letter carrier with the U. S. Post Office. He was honored by the U. S. Post Office for his efforts in rescuing tons of mail from the burning Central Post Office on the east side of Battle Monument Square, on North Calvert Street, between East Lexington and Fayette Streets. Thomas gathered a group of men who loaded bags of mail onto horse-drawn wagons and directed it by wagon and on foot to North and Pennsylvania Avenues. They stood guard while the mail sat on the sidewalk until it could be protected by the Maryland National Guard when it was called out. Back at the General Post Office, employees kept spraying on water on the sides and roof of the building and were able to keep the damage to a minimum and saved the 1889 Italian Renaissance pile with its nine towers and central tall clock tower (later razed and replaced by the current 1932 building, later owned by the city as Courthouse East).

Great Baltimore Fire of 1904, looking West from East Pratt and North Gay Streets

Aftermath
Over $150,000,000 worth of damage was done. Immediately after the fire, Mayor Robert McLane was quoted in The Baltimore News as saying, "To suppose that the spirit of our people will not rise to the occasion is to suppose that our people are not genuine Americans. We shall make the fire of 1904 a landmark not of decline but of progress." He then refused assistance, stating "As head of this municipality, I cannot help but feel gratified by the sympathy and the offers of practical assistance which have been tendered to us. To them I have in general terms replied, 'Baltimore will take care of its own, thank you.'" Two years later, on September 10, 1906, The Sun reported that the city had risen from the ashes and that "One of the great disasters of modern time had been converted into a blessing."

Great Baltimore Fire of 1904, looking West from East Pratt and North Gay Streets
Same view in 1906, 2 years after the fire

Most of the books written on "The Great Fire" stated that no deaths occurred as a direct relation to the fire. A bronze historical marker from 1907 commemorates "The Great Fire", located next to the main western entrance (on the left) of the old "Wholesale Fish Market" that was constructed on Market Place (between East Baltimore and Lombard Streets), as one of three new Centre Market adjoining structures to replace the old burned second "Centre Market" building (which also housed the Maryland Institute) of 1851, and is now the "Port Discovery" children's museum (since late 1980s). This major commemorative tablet of the disaster also reads "Lives Lost: None." However, a recently rediscovered newspaper story from The Sun of the time tells of the charred remains of a "colored man" being pulled, almost two weeks after the fire, from the harbor basin, near the modern area of the Inner Harbor at Constellation Dock (old Pier 2) where the historic Civil War-era sailing frigate USS Constellation is currently docked.

Five lost lives were later attributed indirectly to the fire. Two members of the 4th Regiment of the Maryland National Guard, Private John Undutch of Company 'F', and Second Lieutenant John V. Richardson of Company 'E', both fell ill and died as a result of pneumonia. Fireman Mark Kelly and Fire Lieutenant John A. McKnew also died of pneumonia and tuberculosis due to exposure during the Great Fire. The fifth person who died as a result of the fire was Martin Mullin, the proprietor of Mullin's Hotel. Located on the northwest corner of West Baltimore and North Liberty Streets (above Hopkins Place), the hotel was a block away to the north from the John E. Hurst Building where the fire started.

In the aftermath, 35,000 people were left unemployed. After the fire, the city's downtown "Burnt District" was rebuilt using more fireproof materials, such as granite pavers.

Legacy
As a result of the fire, a city building code was finally adopted. Public pressure, coupled with demands of companies ensuring the newly re-built buildings, spurred the effort. The process took seventeen nights of hearings and multiple City Council reviews. A national standard for a fire hydrant and hose connections was adopted by the National Fire Protection Association. However, inertia remained, and conversion was slow; it still remains incomplete. One hundred years after the Baltimore Fire, only 18 of the 48 most populous American cities were reported to have installed national standard fire hydrants. Hose incompatibility contributed to the Oakland Firestorm of 1991: although the standard hose coupling has a diameter of 2.5 inches (64 mm), Oakland's hydrants had 3-inch (76 mm) couplings. H. L. Mencken, future famed columnist/commentator/author, and linguist, at the beginning of his blossoming journalism and literary career, survived the fire, but the offices of his newspaper, the Baltimore Herald, at the northwest corner of St. Paul and East Fayette Streets, were destroyed on the northern edge of the "Burnt District", but the City's massive new Circuit Courthouse just to the east, across St. Paul Street, completed just four years earlier, survived untouched. The Herald printed an edition the first night of the fire on the press of The Washington Post, in exchange for providing photographs to The Post, but could not continue this arrangement as The Post had a long-standing agreement with the Baltimore Evening News. For the next five weeks, The Herald was printed nightly on the press of the Philadelphia Evening Telegraph and transported 100 miles (160 km) to Baltimore on a special train, provided free of charge by the B&O Railroad. In addition, the other major newspapers of the city were also devastated, including The Sun with its famous "Iron Building", considered the forerunner of modern steel skyscrapers, built 1851 at East Baltimore Street. Across the intersecting South Street-Guilford Avenue was the publishing headquarters of The Sun's main competitor, The Baltimore News, founded 1871 and built in 1873 with its mansard roof and corner clock tower. This intersection, the information center of town for most of the later 19th century, was the site of many "newspaper wars" with the bulletin boards, mounted chalkboards on the front of the buildings, posters and hawking "newsies" (newspaper delivery boys—made famous in the 1990s by the Broadway musical and later Disney movie Newsies). The Baltimore American, the town's oldest news publication, dating back to 1796 and traditionally further to 1773, owned and published by local civic titan, General Felix Agnus, was also burnt out of its offices and so out-of-town arrangements had to be made to have papers printed and shipped back to the city by train. Mencken relates the fire and its aftermath in the penultimate chapter of Newspaper Days: 1899-1906, the second volume of his autobiographical trilogy, published 1941. He writes, "When I came out of it, at last, I was settled and indeed almost a middle-aged man, spavined by responsibility and aching in every sinew, but I went into it a boy, and it was the hot gas of youth that kept me going." The "Box 414 Association", which has assisted the Baltimore City Fire Department for many years, acts like a local American Red Cross, or the United Service Organization (USO) for the military, sending refreshments and break-time trucks to the sites of major alarms and fires to provide exhausted firefighters some comfort and snacks. "Box 414" was the first alarm box pulled on the morning of Sunday, February 7, 1904. Ceremonies of the BCFD are held annually at the bronze statue of a firefighter at the old headquarters of the Department, facing City Hall, the War Memorial Building and the broad ceremonial plaza in between at East Lexington and North Gay Streets. Observances are also held at the closest street corner to the Great Fire's beginnings at South Howard and West Lombard Streets alongside the old Civic Center/Arena. On the Centennial observances in February 2004, an exhibition was mounted at the Maryland Historical Society with an accompanying internet website and a number of other events, lectures, and tours through the auspices of the Fire Museum of Maryland on York Road in Lutherville-Timonium-Cockeysville in Baltimore County. Several commemorative stories and special sections were published during the month in Baltimore's only remaining daily newspaper, The Baltimore Sun, and coverage was televised on the four local television stations' local news programs, along with several documentaries and interviews/discussion programs on the city's public radio network (NPR) station, WYPR-FM. An additional commemorative "coffee-table" style illustrated book The Great Baltimore Fire by Peter B. Petersen, was published through the Maryland Historical Society to supplement the earlier, well-known historical tome and authority Baltimore Afire! by Harold Williams of The Baltimore Sun, with additional photos, information and stories, and some more recent historical scholarship and research. The fire is also memorialized in the folk song "Baltimore Fire" by (Charlie Poole and the North Carolina Ramblers, recorded on Columbia Records (15509-D, May 6, 1929).

    Fire!, fire!, I heard the cry
    From every breeze that passes by
    All the world was one sad cry of pity
    Strong men in anguish prayed
    Calling out to the heavens for aid
    While the fire in ruins was laid
    Fair Baltimore, the beautiful city

1904 Sketch

1904 Baltimore Sketch

8 February 1904

Flames Sweep Southward
Big Buildings Fire Slept in a Remarkably Short Time

Archibald McAllister, a fire patrolman, discovered the blaze. Smoke was coming from the basement of the John E. Hurst and Company building. The automatic alarm had registered, and McAllister turned in an alarm from box 447 at 10:51 AM, on the corner. When chief Burkhardt arrived, flames were going out through the roof, and in 10 minutes, it is said, the roof and floors of the Hurst building had fallen. The reports of the collapse could be heard for miles.

From the Hurst building, the fire jumped northwesterly across liberty Street and attacked the building of car, Owings and Heinemann, drugs, on the northwest corner of liberty and German streets [Redwood Street]. Then the national exchange bank, on the northwest corner, caught in the fire was on its way to Baltimore Street. In less than an hour Hopkins place, liberty Street and the South side of Baltimore Street between liberty and Hanover streets was devastated. Sparks and flaming embers fell in a shower almost impossible to walk through as far as Charles Street, and every building within these limits was on fire before 1:00 PM.

From Baltimore Street south to Hopkins Place and Liberty Street the flames were halted for a time by the high winds. Daniel Miller and Company’s establishment, adjoining that of Hurst’s and Company, caught in less than half an hour. Mr. J. Albert Hughes, the manager, carried out a few books, but the important papers and holdings of the company, which enabled on the first floor, could not be reached by the time to smoke and heat drove Mr. Hughes and a few employees who had forced their way inside back out of the building. The Miller’s building was burned from bottom to top by 1:00 PM and the fire had jumped across Hopkins Place and into the upper floors of R. M. Sutton & Company’s warehouse, 33 and 35 Hopkins Pl. The Stanley Brown Drug Companies place, 31 Hopkins Pl., had burned slightly but not until Sutton’s was almost destroyed the did the fire burst out of the drug house.

8 February 1904

Alarms Kept Bringing
Not less than 21 regular and special calls turned in

There were 21 alarms and six specials sent in.

They were:

Box 266, – McElderry and Eden Streets 10:44 AM

Box 834, – Hurst and Company 4 minutes later at 10:48 AM

Box 447, – Baltimore and Liberty Streets 3 minutes later at 10:51 AM

Box 414, – [General] German and Howard Streets 4 minutes later at 10:55 AM

Box 513, – Lombard and Sharp Streets 10 minutes later at 11:05 AM

Box 41, – Fayette and St. Paul Streets 8 minutes later at 11:13 AM

Box 213, – Low and Front Streets 28 minutes later at 11:41 AM

Box 264, – Monument Caroline Streets 6 minutes later at 11:47 AM

Box 219, – Holiday Inn Fayette Streets 1 minute later at 4:48 AM

Box 266, – McElderry and Eden Streets 21 minutes later at 12:09 PM

Box 241, – Front and Hillen Streets 7 minutes later at 12:16 PM

Box 226, – Orleans and Forrest Streets 25 minutes later at 12:41 PM

Box 32, – St. Paul and Saratoga Streets 31 minutes later at 1:16 PM

Box 422, – Fayette and Howard Streets  38 minutes later at 1:54 PM

Box 31, – Calverton and Pleasant Streets. 26 minutes later at 2:20 PM

Box 248, – Bath and Holliday Streets 23 minutes later at 2:43 PM

Box 31, – Calvert and Pleasant Streets 1hr 38 minutes later at 4:06 PM

Box 318, – Charles and Barnet Streets 2 hrs 26 minutes later at 6:32 PM

Box 224, – Preston Druid Hill Avenue 1 hr 18 minutes later at 7:50 PM

Box 21, – Gay and Saratoga Streets 16 minutes later at 8:06 PM

Box 214, – Exeter and Fayette Streets 54 minutes later at 9:00 PM

23 February 1904

How the Fire Spread
Chief Horton Describes Beginning of The Disaster

The Fire Board yesterday held its first meeting since the Fire Commissioner Parish was present, he had just recovered from an attack of influenza. The session was spent in discussing the recent fire, [4 Feb 1904] receiving reports from Chief Horton and others and adopting resolutions concerning the disaster.

"At 10:48 am on Sunday, 7 February 1904, Automatic alarm Box 834 at J. E. Hurst and Company"

In describing the beginning of the fire and the matter in which it spread Chief Horton said:

“At 10:48 am on Sunday, 7 February 1904, Automatic alarm Box 834 at J. E. Hurst and Company, the corner of Liberty and German Streets, (German Street now Redwood St) was received, and number two truck, number 15 engine company, salvage corpse and fifth district engineer L. H. Burkhardt responded. The members of number two truck and number 15 engine companies entered the building by the doorway, with a chemical and a 2 ½ inch line of hose. They went into the basement and found fire among packing boxes. The fire was near the elevator shaft, to which the flames were drawling. Upon entering the basement, the atmosphere appeared to be free from gases, and there was very little smoke. A few moments after reaching the basement a dance, black smoke descended upon the men. This was followed immediately by an explosion, which lifted the roof and pours out all the glass in the building. Flames immediately enveloped the building and pierced the building on the opposite side of the star, German and Liberty streets.

"Capt. Malcolm Jordan sent in a FIRST alarm from Box 447 at 10:51 AM, just 3 minutes after we had received the automatic alarm"

Four minutes later

"Seeing the fire in the basement immediately went to box 414 at 10:55, located at German and Howard Streets"

“Upon the arrival of the Salvage Corpse, Capt. Malcolm Jordan sent in a first alarm from Box 447 at 10:51 AM, just three minutes after we had received the automatic alarm. District engineer Burkart, who had entered the building with the members of the number 2 Truck Company, seeing the fire in the basement, immediately went to box 414 at 10:55, located at German and Howard Streets, and sounded before; also called numbers 17 and 18 engine companies. Upon careful investigation as to the time of sounding the alarm; I find in seven minutes after the receipt of the first round of the automatic alarm the explosion occurred. One arrived on German Street, west of Liberty Street, and 15 minutes later the automatic, and I found the buildings on the northeast and northwest corners of liberty and German streets, Northwest and Northeast and Southeast corners of sharp and German streets on fire. Number 15 engine was at the plug on the northwest corner of sharp and German streets, and the number two truck was standing on the north side of German Street, between sharp and Liberty streets. Both pieces of apparatus were burning and could not be reached because of the heat.

Issues Call for Help

“After directing several lines of hose, I passed in the rear of Hopkins Bank building to German Street and to the rear of Brown Brothers drug house, making a careful survey, and concluded to send to Washington for assistance. I returned to Baltimore Street by way of Hanover Street [being unable to go west on German Street], and I met Lieut. Charles M. Cole, of the central district police, and requested him to telephone Washington authorities for help, which was done.

“I then ordered secretary P. W. Wilkinson to have the fire alarm office call all companies to the fire and ordered the reserve engine at number 23 engine companies quarters to be placed at Charles and Baltimore streets. The fire then appeared in the building occupied by the Roxbury ride company, 115 West Baltimore St. I ordered number four engine to be moved to the northeast corner of Baltimore and Liberty streets. The engine had not proceeded 50 feet when the building collapsed and covered the plug to which the engine had been attached. I then ordered a line of the hose into the second story northeast corner of Baltimore and sharp streets. The conditions were thoughts and five minutes that I ordered it out at once.

Received Three Electric Shocks

“Then I ordered chief Emirates with a line of the hose into the southwest corner of Baltimore and sharp streets, which order I had to countermand in a few minutes because of the conditions.

“The building on the northeast corner of Baltimore and liberty streets then took fire in the mansard. I then tried to form a water curtain with several deludes streams to protect the building. I ordered number one and number 23 engines to be moved and a line of hose from number 23 taken to the roof of Mullins Hotel, on Liberty Street. I then ordered number four engine to be removed at once, as the fire had taken firm hold of the northeast corner of liberty and Baltimore streets, where number four was stationed.

“Up to this time I had received three shocks from electric currents, and I had become incapacitated for duty and was removed to my night quarters at number 23 engine house, where I remained until Monday, the eighth, at 2 PM, at which time I resumed charge of the department.”

The resolutions were submitted by Commissioner Cathcart, and they expressed the board’s appreciation of the magnificent work of the firemen and commended especially chief Horton for valor “which well high cost him his life,” the district chiefs, superintendent of machinery, surgeon Edwin Geer and officers and members of the Uniformed Police Force, “who for 30 hours, with dauntless spirit, contended with the raging flames, counting not their lives dear to themselves if only Baltimore be saved.”

The resolutions also thanked superintendent J. B. Yay coal and the employees of the fire alarm telegraph and telephone service for their excellent work, and expressed the board’s “deep sense of obligation and gratitude to the gallant firemen of New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Wilmington, Atlantic City, Chester, York, Altoona, Harrisburg, Annapolis, Roland Park, Baltimore County, relay house, Westminster and sparrows point, who paralleled their lives for us, and in the storm of fire one our love and admiration of the world.”

The board decided to take immediate steps to rehabilitate the department. Pres. Gail and chief Horton were authorized to confer with the mayor today relative to telegraphic orders to duplicate the engine and truck destroyed. It was also agreed to compile a statement of the claims and losses of outside departments and body them in an emergency ordinance to be introduced to the City Council.

Superintendent yay coal, of the police and fire alarm office, submitted his report, showing that 56 alarms were turned in during the fire without a mistake.

Communications were received from the Chamber of Commerce, William Fuller and see. And O’Neil and company, commanding the department for its efficiency. 

8 Feb 1904

8 Feb 1904 

23 February 1904

This is the UNOFFICIAL History Site of the Baltimore Police Department. It depicts the history of the department as was originally conceived of, and told by Retired Officer, William M. Hackley. Sadly Officer Hackley passed away on 15 March 2012 leaving his site to Ret. Det. Kenny Driscoll. It took a month or so to take full responsibility for the site and its content. The thoughts and use of certain items, terms, sounds, and implications are not necessarily those that would be agreed upon by the Baltimore Police Department, as an official Governmental Agency. Likewise, we do not seek their permission or approval to post the things we post, and as such, nothing in these pages should be held against them.

The intent of this site is more than just to tell our history, to have everyone remember our Injured, and Fallen Heroes, those who in the performance of their duties were called upon to make the Ultimate Sacrifice.

So as you surf these pages, you will see the Baltimore Police Department from its infancy, showing the crude methods of policing in the 1700's, through to the 1800's and become the modern highly efficient department that it has become today.

Enjoy the site for what it is, a rendition of the proud history of one of this country’s finest Police Departments, one for which those of us who have worked it, are proud of, and honored to have served. The many men and women that still proudly serve, and those that someday will serve.

Any request for official police information should first be made directly to:

Baltimore Police Department
242 W. 29th St., Baltimore, MD.
Emergencies: 9-1-1  Non-emergencies: 410-396-2037
BALTIMORE POLICE Web Site: http://www.baltimorepolice.org 

Again please contact Ret. Det. Kenny Driscoll if you have pictures of you, your family, or other members of the Baltimore Police Department and wish to see them remembered here on this tribute site. We are anxious to honor the fine men and women who have served this fine police department. Ret. Det. Kenny Driscoll can be reached at  This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. - Like us on Facebook, or contact us for a mailing address 

Copyright © 2002 Baltimore City Police History - Ret Det Kenny Driscoll

The Baltimore Flood

In 1868, The Jones Falls Overflowed
Causing a Disaster Known as "Baltimore’s Black Friday Flood.”

City Flood - July 24, 1868, The Jones Falls Overflowed The Tide Swept in Flooding Houses, Horses, Telegraph Poles, Bridges and More were Swept Away with the Water

Devastating floods like those that have caused havoc in North Dakota and Minnesota are no strangers to Maryland, as the great floods of 1936, 1955, 1972 and 1985, and prior to the 1868 Flood, there were two more notable floods, the Flood of 1837, which was well documented, and the less documented Flood of 1817. This page will discuss briefly the 1817, 1837 Floods, and go a little more into the depth of the Great Flood of 1868

To start the Flood of 1868 was better known at that time as the "Black Friday Flood of 1868" in one day it claimed approx. 50 lives, damaged more than 2,000 homes and caused property damage estimated to be in the area of 2 to 3 million Dollars. Some 4,000 people were thrown out of work by this flood. Described as a "Freshet," the flood began harmlessly as a heavy rain during the early hours of July 24. As the day wore on, Wagner-esque lightning tore the skies, barrages of thunder echoed throughout the city and the downpour continued.

Baltimoreans on their way to work noticed that the Jones Falls was overflowing its banks, but it was not until a south wind began blowing a high tide in from the harbor that the crisis really began. The tide joined with the raging waters of the Jones Falls, and the stream rose 5 feet in 10 minutes. The stream eventually reached a height of 20 feet.

The flood washed away telegraph poles and smashed horse-drawn cars against buildings as terrified passengers and horses scrambled for their lives. Dislodged houses and bridges swirled toward the harbor, and the city's water supply and gas system were rendered useless.

Seven Bridges Swept Away

"The small wooden bridge at Charles Street avenue was the first within the city limits to give way, sweeping down with other debris from above. [It] passed under the lofty Belvidere and Eager-street bridges, the latter being a stone arch, and reaching thence the iron bridge at Madison street, struck it, causing that bridge to give way, and soon after the bridges at Monument, Centre, Bath, Hillen and Fayette streets, making seven bridges in all in the city, swept away," reported The Sun the day after.

A reporter for the Baltimore Telegraph observed the scene as the bridges gave way:

"The water took the immense iron fragments as if they had been feathers, and, after toying with them awhile, threw them with great force upon Baltimore Street Bridge. This caused the north side of the bridge to give way," he wrote.

"This city," said The Sun, "and the adjacent country was visited yesterday with violent storms of rain, which lasted several hours, producing a most disastrous flood. The rain poured down in torrents from early in the morning, and about midday the water in Jones' falls -- that delectable stream which passes directly through the city -- rose with great rapidity, soon overflowing its walled banks, backing into numerous contiguous streets, and penetrating dwellings, stores and innumerable basements, creating great alarm and damaging and sweeping off property, carrying away bridges, & etc."

Water poured into the main waiting room of the Northern Central Railroad's Calvert Station, and the thick walls of the German Zion Church on North Gay Street gave way with a mighty crash.

Oh, Rats!

Schools of rats driven from their normal berths by rising water fled in terror through the streets. Communication between the eastern and western sections of the city was severed.

Water rose into the basement of The Sun Iron Building on East Baltimore Street and for a time threatened the building and its equipment as basement pumps failed to keep pace with the onrush of water. It was only the intervention of a fire department pumper that saved the building and allowed the paper to publish the next day's newspaper.

"Engineer-Cosgrove, with John A. Hogg, president of the board, rendered us valuable aid, for which we tender our heartiest thanks," said The Sun in an editorial.

"The scene from the bridge at Eager Street when the water was at its greatest height was very striking. Its yellow flood came down with a turbulent roar like some mountain torrent, bringing in its headlong rush fragments of bridges and buildings, uprooted trees, driftwood, fences, sheds, outhouses, oil tanks, barrels, merchandise. As soon as the rain slackened, crowds of people flocked to the banks of the stream to witness and view of the scene of destruction," reported The Sun.

"The disaster was not without its lighter moments," said an article in The Sunday Sun Magazine in 1957.

"On some streets, men and women 'revealed in semi-nudity, catching the waifs and strays borne down by the tide. Barrels of flour and whiskey, articles of household furniture and all other imaginable stuff was captured.' "

Railroad service on the Northern Central was disrupted as bridges at Melvale, Woodberry and Mount Washington were destroyed. The telegraph lines along the B&O railway were ripped down and several bridges along the Western Maryland Railway were ruined.

The waters receded as quickly as they had raced through the city. By nightfall, looters were breaking into empty stores, homes, and warehouses and taking what they wanted, unchallenged by any authority.

The next morning downtown Baltimore was littered with debris, and mud was, in places, 6 to 8 inches deep. An awful stench arose over the city from the carcasses of dead animals that baked in the July heat. There was soon an outbreak of typhoid fever.

Seventy years had not dimmed the memory of the flood for Miss Josephine McPhail, then 94, who told The Sun in 1937, "I can still see in my mind's eye the color of that raging torrent, the mad rush of debris and the rats. Above all, the rats."

The Power of Nature

An editorial in The Sun said, "The great flood of Friday was an impressive exhibition of the mighty power of the elements and of the feebleness and frailty of man when he is confronted with a sudden outbreak of those forces of nature which are generally considered subservient to his will, but which sometimes assert themselves with an energy that he has no resources to withstand. It was also a revelation of the peril and disaster which a few hours may bring to property and life in a city traversed, as this is, by a stream like Jones' falls."

Controlling the Jones Falls became a matter of civic concern, but wasn't until 1914 that the Fallsway covering the stream was constructed at a cost of $2 million.

While everything on this site is about or has something to do with "Baltimore City", not everything is about "Baltimore City's Police" that said, this does have a Baltimore City Police Connection in that a newly appointed Commissioner of the Police, Commissioner James E. Carr, took command, saving lives and making a difference. Harper's Weekly reported on the Commissioner's Bravery and the lives he saved.

24 July 1868

It was shortly after his election to the Police Board that that most dreadful calamity, the flood of Baltimore (24 July 1868), overtook our city. In that crisis, the bravery of Commissioner Carr in rescuing the victims of the catastrophe became a matter of national fame. Harper's Weekly, at the time, in a long article on the floods, quoted the following editorial notice from the Baltimore Sunday Telegram, of 26 July,1868: "It is a true saying, that in times of great public calamities, some men rise to the position of a great public benefactor, and such was the case yesterday with Police Commissioner James E. Carr. He, at first sight, apprehended the character of the calamity, and he immediately sent for boats and organized a sufficient force of policemen to manage them. He soon had work enough to do. He led his boat in places of great peril and rescued women from drowning.

The city was afflicted on Friday, 24 July 1868, with a calamity, which formed a fitting close to what was perhaps the most eventful decade in Baltimore's history. It was the memorable and disastrous flood which proved so conclusively of what brave men the police force was composed, and how efficient was their organization. For several days previous to the flood the rain had fallen in torrents, saturating the earth and swelling the streams among the hills of Baltimore and Howard counties. The land, therefore, was almost incapable of absorbing any more of the moisture, when on Friday morning the rain came as if in the realization of some awful plan of nature, and in pursuance of the preparation which preceded it. The cause of the flood has been variously attributed to the overflowing of Lake Roland; to the breaking of a water-spout in the neighborhood of the Queen Spring Valley, and to a number of other things equally unsatisfactory. But as similar floods occurred at various places along the Atlantic slope of the Alleghenies, the inundation is doubtless to be attributed wholly to the heavy fall of rain which began on the morning of July 24 and lasted until 1 o'clock of the same day. The part most difficult to explain, is the rapidity with which the streams rose. The Patapsco river at Ellicott City and Jones Falls rose at the rate of five feet in ten minutes; the water came down those streams like a great wave on the sea-shore. The river at Ellicott City rose ten feet before a drop of rain had fallen there, and was at one time forty feet high. In this city, the rise was so rapid that a gentleman entering a cigar store from a dry street returned with a lighted cigar to find himself knee-deep in a rapidly rushing stream. A passenger car, while crossing a street, was caught by the flood, and with its passengers was swept several blocks toward the river. The market men were caught at ' their work, and only had time to get on their benches and stalls for safety, and these were washed away with their occupants. Terrible as was the catastrophe in Baltimore, it was much worse in Ellicott City. Had it occurred at night the loss of life that it must have caused is fearful to contemplate. It was about ten o'clock in the morning when the water first rose above the banks of Jones Falls and began to flood the low streets of this city. Slowly, at their beginning, the floods covered Harrison street, but in a moment they rushed down Harrison street, increasing in volume at each minute, until the bed of the street was filled with a swollen and powerful stream, whirling on in its surface the shattered remains of ruined homesteads, wrecks of furniture, and, in fact, almost everything in ordinary and common use. When it reached Baltimore street the stream divided into three currents. One rushed like a torrent to the right, the other to the left, and the third ran with more slowness down the center of the market. Above the roar of the vortex could be heard the shrieks of women and children, and the cries of men for help, as they were whirled along with the furious current. Even carriages, with their occupants, were caught up and carried along. For some hours after the awful scenes of destruction had begun in the center of the city, the greater part of the population of the upper portions, kept indoors by the pouring rain, had no idea of the dreadful occurrences below. An extra edition of the Evening Commercial, published at about two o'clock, gave them their first intimation of the disaster. When the flood first appeared on Harrison street the police busied themselves aiding the residents of the street to carry their household goods to places of safety. In a few moments, however, they were obliged to turn their attention towards rescuing the people themselves. Alarms were rang, and men called in from all the stations, to the scene. Numerous boats were promptly ordered from the wharves by the Police Commissioners, and were hurried to the inundated district. They were manned by experienced boatmen and policemen. Most of the boats were launched from the Holliday Street Theatre, and were sent thence, under the direction of Commissioner James E. Carr, through Calvert, North Holliday, and other streets, for the purpose of removing families and furniture to places of safety. On the streets, running at right angles with Harrison street, the streams were by no means so turbulent as in the thoroughfares running parallel with Jones Falls, and they experienced but little of the fierce current that dashed through the latter. Many persons refused the proffered aid, preferring to guard their property. In the neighborhood of North, Davis and Bath streets thieves were busy plying their trade. They were principally young negroes. The police captured a number of them, who were afterwards convicted and sentenced to long terms of imprisonment. One citizen appealed most piteously to Commissioner Jarrett to send policemen to his house, into which he had seen some men swim. The Commissioner and a party got into a boat and pulled in the direction of the house, mooring their boat at a second-story window, through which an entrance was made. A search of the premises discovered that his money, amounting to 8570, was gone. Shortly afterwards it was ascertained that his wife, fearing the flood, had secured the money on her person without informing her husband. At about four o'clock in the afternoon an exciting scene took place on Saratoga street, between Gay and Holliday streets. A boat, in which were Commissioner James E. Carr, Sergeant Charles McComas, Win. Henry Collier, and a colored man, had gone to the second story of a tenement on the east side of Saratoga street, nearly opposite the Central District station-house, to remove several children. Immediately in front of the house was lodged a large quantity of driftwood, consisting of beams and logs, alongside of which the current was running with fearful rapidity. In attempting to stem the tide and effect a landing on the driftwood, which the rescuing party thought to be securely lodged against the houses, an oar was dropped overboard, and Mr. Carr, in attempting to recover it, was flung forcibly into the seething yellow water. Sergeant McComas, in trying to catch him, was also precipitated into the stream, together with the colored man. Confusion ensued, and the three men floated helplessly along with the tide, Commissioner Carr very rapidly, for he had been thrown out into the current. The others succeeded in reaching the pile of driftwood, but the Commissioner was whirled away out of sight, notwithstanding his powerful efforts to swim into stiller waters. A shout at once went up that Commissioner Carr was drowned. It had been seen to disappear under the water, and everybody supposed his corpse would be found after the flood subsided. The Evening Commercial quickly published the rumor in an extra edition. An hour later it was happily proved to be incorrect, for the Commissioner was rescued at the corner of Fayette and Harrison streets. He had been washed from Saratoga street into Harrison street, catching at various fixed articles, and endeavoring to pull himself out of the water, but being unable to do so. At one time he caught hold of a balcony, but was forced from it by the inhuman owner of the house, lest he should break off the balcony ! From Fayette street he was seen by a number of citizens, however. One of them, an expert swimmer, tied a rope around his waist, and while the other end of the rope was held by some persons standing in the shallow water, he swam out to the middle of the street. Recognizing the Commissioner, who was at that time almost exhausted, after an hour's battle with the waves the citizen made to him the Odd Fellows' signal of distress. The Commissioner let go his hold on the house to which he was clinging, and allowed himself to float down the stream toward his rescuer. He was quickly pulled out of the water. The news then spread, amid much rejoicing, that Commissioner Carr had been rescued, which the latter hastened to give visible proof of to his friends by hurrying as soon as he recovered, back to the place where they had seen him disappear. His two companions in distress, Sergeant McComas and the colored man, who had succeeded in reaching the pile of debris, had floated a short distance further down the stream. Their position was an extremely dangerous one, but they were rescued by Detective Richards, who got into a boat and steered it towards the men, persons holding it from the second story windows of a house by a long rope. When the imperiled men succeeded in escaping into the boat, the craft was hauled back against the tide. A somewhat amusing incident occurred at the Gay Street bridge. Mayor Banks was inspecting the scene of the flood late at night, after the waters had fallen to such an extent as to be confined within the limits of the banks of Jones Falls. A great crowd of people was still on the streets. Noticing a large number on the Gay Street bridge, which seemed liable to fall at any moment, he ordered a policeman to clear the structure. The officer, not recognizing the Mayor, turned on him fiercely : " Do you want that bridge cleared?" he cried. " Yes, and at once," replied the Mayor. '•Well, clear it yourself, then!" said the policeman, as he seized Mayor Banks by the collar, and swung him forcibly into the crowd. Nothing could be more abject than the man's apologies, when he discovered whom he had assaulted. Captain Frey, now Marshal of the police force, then in charge of the Southern District, who had been ordered at the beginning of the flood to report at the Holliday Street Theatre, with as many men as he could get together, was soon returned to his own district, when it was learned that the floods had invaded his precinct also, and that the bridges were in danger. His men remained at work all day and all night, recovering property and bodies as they floated down the stream. They took several thousand dollars' worth of goods from the water and eighteen corpses, most of which had been washed down from Ellicott city. His men worked for several days afterward, looking for property and bodies among the debris. In the middle precinct also, a number of bodies were recovered and a large amount of property returned to its owners. Several thieves, who took advantage of the disaster to rob unprotected houses, were also caught and punished.

It was not until the night after the inundation that the dilapidated old Middle Station was sufficiently cleared of the five- inch deep deposit of mud that covered it, to permit of its occupation, and then Captain Mitchell and his officers only used the upper floor. On the following day the citizens of Baltimore, with their proverbial liberality, set about to relieve the distress of the victims of the flood. The police carried private alms where they knew immediate relief was needed, until the Citizens Relief Committee opened its headquarters for the distribution of aid. Among the methods of raising money for the relief of the suffering, was a benefit given at the Holiday Theatre on Saturday evening, August 1, on which occasion John E. Owens played "Major Wellington de Boots," in "Everybody's Friend." The tickets for the benefit were sold by the police. When the returns were handed in, they showed a total of $3,601.50. There were but four districts in the city at this time, it will be remembered. The money was immediately banded over by Marshal Farlow to manager John T. Ford, to whose generosity the benefit was due. That gentleman, in company with Mayor Banks, proceeded at once to the office of the Relief Committee, and gave over the entire amount, not deducting any part on account of his expenses, etc. A few weeks later, when the excitement had subsided, and the devastated district was beginning to be restored, the City Councils passed resolutions of thanks to the police, for their services during the terrible Friday of the flood.

The first report of the new Board of Commissioners, made to the State Legislature, was dated January 18, 1870. It included the transactions of the department during the years 1868 and 1869. There had been comment of slightly unfavorable character, upon the number of policemen employed. The critics declared that the number was excessive, and that taxation was unnecessarily increased. The Commissioners called the attention of the Legislature to the fact that Baltimore then had a population of very nearly 400,000 persons, and that the entire police force consisted of only members. These policemen, the Board asserted, were apportioned among twenty wards, giving an average of not more than twenty-eight of the regular force to each of them to serve both night and day, with no suitable reserve for emergencies. This explanation by the Commissioners was so sweeping that there was no further comment made upon the excessive number of policemen. Any criticism thereafter was rather in the contrary direction. The Board, during the first two years of its service, had many things brought to its attention which demanded reform. Among these was the prevalence of prize-fights in the vicinity. Northern ruffians were in the habit of coming to Baltimore county, and here settling their claims of prowess in the most brutal fashion. They evaded the law giving the Police Commission power to arrest or " shadow" men from the city, by making their rendezvous outside of the city limits. The Commissioners appealed to the State, .and had the law so modified that prize-fighting soon became a reminiscence. Another evil was the increase in the number of private detective agencies in town. Under the most favorable circumstances, these organizations are provocative of blackmailing. Every good police official looks at them with doubt, and they are in many cases used by the criminal as feelers, to ascertain what the authorities are about. The detective service of the police department had just about got itself into an excellent state of efficiency in 1869, and the Commissioners were anxious to relieve it from every embarrassment, so again the Legislature was appealed to. The State authorities responded, and gave the department the same power of control over these agencies as it had over all other bodies engaged in the discovery or prosecution of crime. It was in October, 1867, that the Board forbid all processions through the streets of any organizations not part of the army or navy of the United States, without first procuring permits. This action was occasioned by a sad experience the city had early in the month. During a parade of a negro company, some persons in a crowd of onlookers began to jeer and torment the paraders. One of the colored men lost his control, and drawing a revolver, fired into the crowd, killing a young white man named Charles A. Ellermeyer. The paraders were attacked by the indignant citizens, and a riot was prevented only by the • prompt appearance of a large force of police.

It was on that fearful day in July, 1868, when Baltimore was swept by flood, and part of the town was fairly drowned beneath the waters which raged from the country about, that patrolman Gault discovered that he was not merely an enthusiastic police man, but a man full of that noble desire to do good which impels one to risk his life for another's benefit. There was a great crowd of terror-stricken citizens standing in High street, near Front street, at about 3 o'clock in the afternoon of July 24. The yellow flood roared and writhed and twisted itself in apparent deviltry as it rushed on its path of destruction. On its breast was borne all manner of things : parts of houses, great tree trunks from which huge branches had been torn by the angry waters, chicken coops, furniture, produce — but look ! what is this floating upon the tossing waves, half hidden at times by the billows, but always rising with them, always cresting them — making them sacred even in their maddened rush for prey ? It comes nearer the great crowd ; it is upon them, abreast of them, and within the cradle which rides the flood a babe looks out and smiles upon the thousand men who stand awe-stricken at the strange sight. There is no motion in the crowd ; not a hand is waved, not a tongue is loosened as the cradle with its precious burden sweeps by, the wreckage apparently making way for it. Again look ! a man darts from the midst of the crowd ; he wears the familiar uniform of a policeman ; his head is bare, his hair streaming in the wind and tossing spray. Over he goes into the raging waters, and amid the cheers of the crowd swims towards the castaway. Tree trunks intervene ; great masses of wreckage interpose themselves, but nothing daunts the brave man who struggles toward the object of his endeavors. Struck now and forced back by some heavy drift he begins all over again, and with set teeth grasps the cradle. The baby smiles at him and then gives a little crow of delight as the rescuer's weight tilts the cradle to one side. Little it knows how near it has been to the end. The policeman landed many squares below the place where he leaped into the flood, but the crowd had followed him, and as he stepped ashore and handed the little one to a lady who was standing near, the immense crowd surged about him and made the air ring with cheers. Three hours after this Mr. Gault, still drenched from his heroic battle with the flood, again leaped into the water at Harrison and Gay streets, and in the presence of fully 500 persons rescued John Steigel, after the latter had almost choked the brave officer to death. In the summer of 1876 Detective Gault gained much praise by his clever capture of a pickpocket in this city. One of the officials at the Union depot had put his aunt, an elderly lady, and her daughter on board a train. They were going to Hartford, Connecticut. Before the train left the Union depot a well- dressed gentleman who was sitting in a seat behind them, with much politeness assisted the ladies in disposing of their baggage, etc. As soon as they were comfortably seated he left the car, telling them that he was going into the " smoker " and would return. At that time it was customary for the trains from the Union depot to stop at Bay View junction to take on the cars that had come up from the President street station. Before they reached the junction the conductor went through the train collecting the tickets. Then the old lady suddenly discovered that her pocket-book, containing the tickets for herself and her daughter and about §20 in bills was missing. She supposed she must have lost it, and returned to the Union depot much chagrined with the next train. When she told her nephew about the polite gentleman who had assisted her with her pack ages the young man at once suspected that the " gentleman " had stolen the pocket-book. He reported the facts to the police headquarters. Detective Gault was assigned to look into the case. When he learned that the pocket-book contained two Hartford tickets, heat once determined to watch the "scalpers' " offices, suspecting that the thief would try to sell the tickets. As the detective was loitering along Baltimore street in the neighbor- o o o hood where the "scalpers' " shops are located, he noticed a man answering the description given by the ladies of the polite he leaped into the flood, but the crowd had followed him, and as he stepped ashore and handed the little one to a lady who was standing near, the immense crowd surged about him and made the air ring with cheers. Three hours after this Mr. Gault, still drenched from his heroic battle with the flood, again leaped into the water at Harrison and Gay streets, and in the presence of fully 500 persons rescued John Steigel, after the latter had almost choked the brave officer to death.

Baltimore City Police Commissioners

John W. Davis

1870-1871

Harry W. Gilmor
1874 to 1879

Harry W. Gilmor (January 24, 1838 – March 4, 1883) served as Baltimore City Police Commissioner in the 1870s, but he was most noted as a Confederate cavalry officer during the American Civil War. Gilmor's daring raids, such as The Magnolia Station Raid gained his partisans fame as "Gilmor's Raiders".

After the war, Gilmor moved to New Orleans, where he married Miss Mentoria Nixon Strong, daughter of Jasper Strong and Eliza Julia Nixon. Gilmor and his wife had three children.

Gilmor wrote his war memoirs, entitled Four Years in the Saddle (New York, Harper & Bros., 1866). He soon returned to Maryland and was elected a colonel of the cavalry in the Maryland National Guard. He also served as the Baltimore City Police Commissioner from 1874 to 1879. Gilmor died in Baltimore, plagued by complications from a war injury to his jaw. He was buried in Loudon Park Cemetery in an area now known as "Confederate Hill." At his death, Baltimore police stations flew their flags at half-staff. Gilmor's funeral was a large local event with many dignitaries present to honor this war hero.

Gilmor was born at "Glen Ellen", the family estate in Baltimore County, Maryland. He was the son of Robert Gilmor and Miss Ellen Ward, daughter of Judge William H. Ward. Harry was the fifth of eleven children.

Civil War

During the American Civil War, as a member of Captain Charles Ridgely's Baltimore County Horse Guards, Gilmor was arrested and imprisoned in Fort McHenry following the occupation of Baltimore by Federal troops. Upon his release, he traveled South and eventually rejoined the fighting serving, for a while, under General Turner Ashby. He was again captured during the Maryland Campaign and spent five months in prison. During the Gettysburg Campaign, Major Gilmor was assigned command of the First Maryland Cavalry and Second Maryland Cavalry, supporting Brig. Gen. George Steuart's infantry brigade. Gilmor was the provost marshal of the town of Gettysburg while it was occupied by the Confederates July 1–4.

The Magnolia Station Raid

After the Battle of Monocacy on July 9, 1864, Colonel Gilmor's command, along with Brig. Gen. Bradley T. Johnson's infantry, made a series of raids around Baltimore going as far east as Magnolia Station in Harford County, Maryland and Fork, Maryland. On July 10, 1864 Major Harry Gilmor of the 2nd Maryland Cavalry was given 135 men of the 1st and 2nd Maryland, and directed to cross Baltimore County into Harford County at Jerusalem Mill, and destroy the railroad bridge of the Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore Railroad at Magnolia Station, northeast of the city. Early on the morning of July 11, Gilmor's cavalrymen reached Magnolia Station, [Major Harry W. Gilmor] located just off present-day I-95 near Joppa. There they proceeded to wreck two trains, one northbound and one southbound. After first evacuating the passengers and looting the cars, the troopers set fire to one of the trains and backed it over the trestle, thus partially destroying the bridge. To further sweeten the pot, aboard the northbound train was an unexpected prize—convalescing Union Maj. Gen. William B. Franklin. This raid was always regarded as one of the most daring ever attempted by detached cavalry on either side during the war.

Later in the day on July 11, 1864, Gilmore's advance group were passing the home of Ishmael Day on Sunshine Avenue in Fork, Maryland. Day was a Union sympathizer, and knowing Gilmor's troops were passing through, hung a large Union flag across the road. In the advance guard unit, Confederate color bearer and Ordnance Sergeant Eugene Fields told Day to take the flag down. After Day refused, an argument followed and Ishmael Day shot Sgt. Field at close range with a shotgun. Gilmor's men burned Day's home and Day immediately fled, cowering under a cider press for days until the passing troops were gone. The mortally wounded Sgt. Field was taken, accompanied by Gilmor, to Wright's Hotel operated by W.O.B. Wright on Harford Road, where Field later died.

Later raids

Gilmor was eventually ordered to take his command to Hardy County, West Virginia, and attack the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. There, he was captured on February 4, 1865, and was held as a prisoner of war at Fort Warren in Boston Harbor until July 24, 1865. 

George Colton

1881-1887

James H. Preston, 1904-1908 (Gov. Warfield made him a member of the Board of Police Commissioners for Baltimore City, 1904-08)

Charles D. Gaither
1920-1937

 

“The General” of Baltimore Police

Commissioner Gaither learned his lesson as a guardsman

Half a dozen spellbinder’s harangue a listless crowd of perhaps fifty persons in the war Memorial Plaza around the square stand a hundred uniformed policeman. The cops, twirling their clubs, look board. Nothing happens. So many policeman, apparently on hand to preserve order, seems a little silly. They outnumber the rest of the crowd two to one.
No nervous Nelly is Police Commissioner Charles D. Gaither, who sent all those bluecoats to the Plaza. But he has seen Baltimore’s police force overpowered and whipped to a standstill. Doing his first police duty, then as a National Guardsmen, he was stoned by the Baltimore’s mob. He helped put down riot in the streets of Baltimore at the point of the bayonet. This happened 60 years ago, but he had never forgotten. He doesn’t believe in taking any chances now. Or, as he expressed it: “I don’t believe in sending a boy to do a man’s job.” That’s why the cops outnumbered the crowd in the Plaza.
Charles the Gaither was born November 20, 1860, at Oakland manner, and 1800 acre farm on the Columbia Pike about 2 miles below Ellicott city. He was little more than a year old when the Civil War broke out. His father, George Riggs Gaither, recruited a company of Marylanders for service in the Confederate Army, and during his absence his farm was sold by his father, who feared confiscation of all his rebel sons’ property by the federal government. A house at 510 Cathedral St. became the captain’s home, from here Charles the Gaither, the fourth of nine children, went to private schools ran with number 7 fire engine company and establish a neighborhood in reputation as a first baseman.
When the boy was 12 years old his father was elected major of the fifth Regiment, whose roster red like the societies visiting list. For in those days men paid an initiation fee of five dollars to join the Regiment, monthly dues of a dollar and $50 for a uniform. Each man also paid his own expenses a summer camp, a frolic usually held at Cape May, Longbranch or some other fashionable seaside resort.
From the day his father became an officer of the fifth Regiment Charles Gaither began to hang around it drill hall, the present Richmond market Armory, inpatient for his 18^th birthday in order that he might enlist, in April, 1877, the father, who had been promoted to Lieut. Col., resigned, but the son was still bent on being a soldier.
At 6:30 PM Friday, 20 July 1877, the military call, one – five – one, was wrong on the City Hall and fire bells. Police closed all of the bar rooms in town. Gov. John Lee Carroll had ordered the fifth and sixth regiments of the Maryland National Guard to Cumberland, where striking railroad engineers and firemen had halted train service.

In the crowd gathered at the Richmond market Armory to watch the fifth Regiment marked out for the former Lieut. – Col. and his son. The companies falling in were little more than skeletons. Earlier that summer dissension in the Regiment had led to the resignation of all its field offices, reduce the number of its enlisted men to 175. Of these only about 135 had reported for duty. “Going along, Col.?” Someone asked in the elder Gaither. “Looks like we’re going to need all we can get.” Suddenly Charles the Gaither, a square shouldered, 17-year-old youth who stood 6 feet tall and weighed close all 180 pounds, felt his father’s hand clap his shoulder, his father’s voice saying: “what’s the matter with his boy going?”

The younger Gaither stumbled upstairs into the armory, delighted. With his father’s consent he was enrolled in senior Capt. William P’s Zollinger’s company H. Someone tossed a new recruit a pair of gray trousers. Someone else gave him a blue blouse. A third man slapped a forage cap on his head and a fourth t a musket into his hands.

In the absence of field officers, senior Capt. Zollinger commanded the entire Regiment. His company, age, led the column down you tall Street toward Camden station, where the guardsman were to in train for Cumberland. Because of his height, Private Charles D Gaither was number three man in the second rank of fours

The sounding of the military call that July afternoon, when the streets were filled with persons whom were – bound from work (there were no 40 hour weeks in those days) jam that Eutaw Street with people curious to see what was going on.

At Pratt Street the crowd cheered the soldiers. But the Camden Street they stone them – a sudden change in mob temperament never forgotten by the tall, roll recruit in the second rank of force.

Near the station the crowd blocked the street. The command was: “Battalion holds! Fixed bayonets!”

The crowd broke. Into Camden station marched company H, halting just within the wide door while an officer hurried ahead to find their train.

From the rear of the column the word came up the line; “and They’re stoning them badly back there!” Camden Street was thick with flying brickbats.

The men in company H stood with his shoulders and hunched, protecting their heads with the blanket roles on top they’re knapsacks. Through the station door sailed a brick that bounced off private gazers blanket role, smack the first sergeant squarely on the head and knocked him flat.

“Burn them!” Bellowed the mob in Camden Street. “Hang them! Shoot them!”

The train that was to have taken the guardsman to Cumberland was partly wrecked by the mob, which later set fire to the station. Firemen who answered the alarm were stoned. Hose lines were cut. The police could make no headway against the mob. Alarmed by the riot, Gov. Carroll countermanded the order sending the guardsman to Cumberland, directed them held at Camden station and telegraph Pres. Hayes for federal troops “to protect the state against violence.”

Private Gaither got his first bayonet practice that night helping the fifth Regiment clear the streets around the station, usually a bayonet prick was enough to send a rider flying. Once the command was given, “load, ready, aim”… But it was not necessarily to fire. The mob did not wait. Private Gaither learned to look hard – Boiled, to appear comfortable when lying on the stone sidewalk with a knapsack for a pillow.

Business as well as train service was suspended next day. Banks, post office, custom house were under special guard. A revenue cutter covered bonded government warehouses at locus point with his guns. Light Street streamers anchored in the harbor to avoid damage. Railroad cars were burned. Again riders charged the guardsman. 77 members of the fifth Regiment had been injured at the end of the second day of strike duty.

2000 United States Marines and soldiers of the regular Army arrived in Baltimore the next morning – Sunday. 2000 more were on their way.

By the following Saturday, for the first time in a week, trains began to move again. Company H of the fifth Regiment was sent up along the main line of the Baltimore and Ohio, toward Frederick Junction, to guard railroad bridges.

Private gazers squad was dropped and Elysville, where the tracks crossed and re-crossed the Patapsco River over to bridges. The guardsman only rations were the hardtack they carried in their haversacks. They had no tents, the only shelter insight was a flagman’s house.

“At least a place to sleep,” muttered the corporal. “How about it Gaither?”

The flagman pricked up his ears. “Gaither,” Gaither he repeated. “Howard County Gaither – rebel Gaither – down here by Ellicott city? Not in my house!” That night private gazers slept under the front porch.

The police Commissioner is not sure that he really learned anything about policing during that first brief tour of duty. He was too young, too green. But he must have absorbed a certain familiarity with what mob violence means.

The sixth Marilyn Regiment to entrain with the fifth when the guardsman were first order out, never had reached Camden station as a unit. Clubbed, stoned, fired upon from all sides by the mob in Baltimore Street, the soldier had halted to wheel and fire back into the crowd several times. 10 persons were killed and 13 wounded before the Regiment was literally torn to pieces, its members being seized, stripped of their uniforms and thrown into the Jones falls. The few who made the Camden station ran for it. There prudent commander followed them in a carriage – after dark.

Looking back on this, the Commissioner sees the value of a demonstration of force.

The fifth Regiment had March to Camden station in regimental formation. The sixth had been dispatched from its armory, at front and Fayette Street, company by company. The companies were small. Had they stuck together, the Commissioner thinks, they might’ve spared themselves a lot of grief.

Once he came of age, young Gaither’s promotion in the fifth Regiment was rapid. By 1887 he had been elected Connell. Three years later he resigned to give all his attention to a bond brokerage business. But shortly before the United States declared what John hay called it “splendid little war” with Spain, the formal Connell was persuaded to rejoin the Regiment as Capt. of company F. He was still Capt. of company F in May, 1898, when the Regiment went South in Cal high boots, flannel shirts and winter overcoat’s to fight mosquitoes, bed cooking and typhoid fever at Tampa. Here is men began to call him “big six.” Nobody knows just what inspired this nickname.

For 10 hot weeks the Regiment, now designated the fifth United States volunteers, set around Tampa was sweat in its years and sand in his mouth. “Big sixes” company was detached as division headquarters guard. Orders were issued to embark the whole Regiment for Cuba – orders were countermanded. Santiago. Typhoid swept the fifth. It was mustered out of the federal service and shipped home.

But the martial spirit was still upon the captain of company F. Through United States Sen. Louis Emery McComas he applied for a commission in another volunteer Regiment. Sen. McComas carried his request to the White House, and pressed upon Pres. McKinley that the applicant was the son of a former Confederate officer.

“A Confederate officers son?” Mussed the President. “What he accept a commission in a Negro Regiment?”

He would and did, going to Cuba as a Lieut. of the ninth United States volunteer infantry, a Negro outfit. He remained in the federal service until 1899, then returned to Baltimore to succeed his father, who had died that year, as commander of the fifth Regiment veterans court with the rank of Col.

After the Baltimore fire, Adjulant-General Clinton L Riggs made Col. Gaither inspector – general of the Maryland National Guard.

The acting Inspector General told Marilyn’s guardsman how to drill. As executive officer as Saunders rains later he also taught them how to shoot. He himself was Capt. of the American rifle team that won the 1912 international match at Buenos Aires.

Appointed Brig. Gen. in command of the Maryland National Guard in 1912, his first active duty as a general officer, like his first active duty as a private soldier, was riot duty. He had four companies of the fifth Regiment to Chestertown to bring the Baltimore to Negroes in danger of being lynched.

There was no evidence. A clever show of force was all that was necessary, general Gaither said afterward. If you are ready for trouble and look as if you mean business, trouble is not likely to begin. That is one of his pet theories

A high rating awarded general Gaither in tactical test against regular Army officers on the Mexican border in 1916 seemed to assure him of going overseas as a brigadier when he took the Maryland brigade to Camp McClellan at Anniston the following year. But early in December he suffered the keenest disappointment of his life. An army surgeon listen to his heart, ordered him discharged for physical disability.

In vain to the general appeal for a revocation of his order. A hard rider, a strenuous tennis player, he had never been in better health. But the order for his discharge stood and at Christmas time he came back to Baltimore, his faithful sorrel, Picket, following in a box car.

From a reviewing stand at the day the Maryland National Guard returned to Baltimore from France the general stall picket dancing to the music of the band – with a policeman in his saddle. Picket had already joined the police force. Before the war was over the general had sold him to the mounted service.

Such was the preparation of the man appointed in 1920 by Gov. Ritchie to be police Commissioner of Baltimore. He came to the job 60 years old, but a vigorous, a wrecked, military man with a soldiers jaw, a stick and a pipe and a soldier’s vocabulary.

The day after his appointment the general (he is always been “the general” to the police) announced that the day of “pull” was over as far as the Police Department administration was concerned. The cops squared their shoulders, saved a little closer, put a little more polish on their shoes and a sharp increase in their trouser and waited for the lightning to strike.

No shakeups, no dismissals followed. And when they got to know their new boss they got to like him. In believe any of them were perfect. He told them so. But he was ready to go to bat for them. Out of this devotion of the general for his force grew a police esprit de corps never before particularly evident here.

The general had no fool’s idea – his own phrase – about policing. For all the tradition of snap and cadence behind him, he was far from being a martinet. He didn’t believe that method or system can substitute for common sense. More police and speedy trial answered the crime problem for him.

He knew the town from end to end – and from a tired flatfoot’s point of view. For years he had been walking to keep down his weight. He knew how long it took to walk any beat in the city, the quickest and straightest route between two given points. He is still a great walker, frequently turning up on remote post to ask astonished officers what is happening. Prohibition and traffic were the Scylla and Charybdis of the first years of his administration. Crime, with the exception of the Noris case, took a backseat. A ruling by the attorney – general relieving police from enforcing the Volstead law called for some rather delicate discrimination. And no traffic regulations that suit every body having yet been perfected, the general got it going and stopping when he told motorist what they could and couldn’t do.

But he is never been swept off his feet by any crusading zeal. He figures that enforcing the law – was he knows to the letter – is a much more important police function.

If his men smother radical demonstrations before they have time to sprout, they are likewise under order to play fair. In labor disputes he never forgets that strikers have their rights and demands that his men work and partially to preserve order. Family relief work by police during the first critical emergency of the depression, to say nothing of food and shelter provided until around 5 o’clock in the afternoon – except when the horses are at Pimlico. He likes to see them run, Homeless men at police stations, have made his department the first friend to the every afternoon of the spring and fall meats, but rarely places a bet because he picks too many wrong ones. He telephoned headquarters every night at 11 o’clock to see what is up and tunes in to police calls. Needy.

The General makes his job a full-time one, getting down to work at 9 o’clock every morning and staying there without any time wherever he goes, and occasional football or baseball game on a Saturday afternoon, Pimlico during the racing season the theater at night, the general always buys a ticket. Since he became police Commissioner he has never been known to accept a pass. And it is most uncommon for him to use a Police Department automobile. When he rides, he rides in his own car, buys his own gasoline. He would rather walk and ride any day.

Now 75 years old, his hair snow white, he is given up to set or two of 10 as he used to play every summer evening before dinner was one of his two daughters. But he can still walk the legs off of many of the younger man. Fine mornings, from early fall until late spring, see him strolling down to the police building from his apartment at Preston and St. Paul streets. When summer comes he and his wife move out to a farm on a high rolling hills near Ellicott city.

Why should he be popular in the police department? If he has done nothing else, he has put all the cops on a three platoon system, which means less work, and raises their pay. But the administration is mutual. After 15 years as commissioner, the general says”:

“It takes nerve to go into the places that a policeman has to go. But my men go in. None of them has ever been yellow.”

 

William Lawson

1937-1938

 

Robert F. Stanton
1938-1943 

Interim  Bernard Schmidt

1961-1966

Maj, Gen, George M. Gelston
22 January, 1966 - 22 September, 1966

COURTESY OFFICER JOE WICZULIS

Frederick H. Bealefeld III

2007-2012

Anthony W. Batts
2012 - 8 July 2015

Interim Commissioner Kevin Davis
8 July 2015 - 19 Oct 2015
Commissioner Kevin Davis
19 Oct 2015 - 19 Jan 2018

Darryl D. DeSousa
January 2018 – May 2018

Gary Tuggle
May 2018 - March 2019

Michael Harrison
March 2019 – present

Baltimore, MD (December 27, 2012): Communities across the City of Baltimore are getting new police leadership. The announcement comes as Police Commissioner Anthony Batts begins to implement strategic changes to help ensure the department has a strong foundation in place to start 2013 with a distinct plan to attack crime and disorder.

“Maximizing our most valuable resource – our employees – and ensuring we have the best leadership teams in place to take on the challenges we face in 2013 is the impetus behind these moves,” says Batts. “We are putting the people and systems in place to help improve our crime fight and that includes better management of our resources, community engagement, and a continued and targeted focus on guns and gangs – that small group of criminals who wreak havoc on our communities.”

The changes include the addition of a Community Policing Division led by newly promoted Lt. Colonel Melvin Russell, a mainstay commander who successfully drove down crime in the Eastern Division through the implementation of a strong community policing strategy. Commissioner Batts intends to take this best practice across the city.

A new Special Enforcement tangent of Patrol, led by Lt. Colonel Ross Buzzuro and assisted by Major Clifton McWhite, formerly of Western District, will focus on special operations and zone enforcement teams that will concentrate on gangs and guns and bring stability to neighborhoods that are experiencing higher crime rates. Garnell Green, most recently in charge of Homicides in the Criminal Investigations Division (CID), has been promoted to Colonel and will command the Patrol Division, while Major Darryl De Sousa is promoted to Lt. Colonel to oversee the Area 1 Command. Area 2 Command remains under the auspices of Lt. Colonel Robert Booker.

Colonel Dean Palmere, who most recently led Patrol, will take the reins of CID, taking over from the retiring Colonel Jesse Oden. Deputy Commissioner John Skinner remains in charge of overall Operations.

There will be four new faces added to district commands with the promotion of Lieutenants Kim Burris, Osborne ‘Moe’ Robinson, Deron Garrity and Erik Pecha to the rank of Captain and second-in-command of districts. Captains Melissa Hyatt, Keith Matthews, and Robert Smith are all being promoted to Major to take command of Central, Eastern and Western Districts respectively.

“We have full confidence in the abilities of those we have promoted and those moving to new challenges. We encourage our communities to welcome their leadership teams and continue to support the face of public safety in their neighborhoods.”

The changes are the beginning of a number of coordinated and strategic efforts to improve policing through a strategic crime focus, improved intelligence gathering and sharing, and a renewed commitment to proactive policing and community engagement. After the April Riots, Mayor Stephine Rawlin Blake, said she stood by Commissioner Batts, and supported him 100%, within one week she announced he was fired and  Kevin Davis promoted to take over.

Meet Baltimore's Interim Police Commissioner Kevin Davis
Davis boasts a strong history of community policing

UPDATED 3:19 PM EDT Jul 09, 2015 

BALTIMORE —Baltimore Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake named Kevin Davis as the Interim Police Commissioner Wednesday afternoon after ousting Police Commissioner Anthony Batts, saying that too much of the city's focus has shifted away from crime-fighting efforts evident by the recent spike in crime and onto police leadership.

The mayor said she wanted to move the focus from police leadership back to making the city safer and cited Davis' extensive law enforcement experience as the step in the right direction.

"Under (Davis') leadership, we will continue to take guns off the streets," Rawlings-Blake said during a news conference Wednesday afternoon.

Davis was appointed to the position of Deputy Police Commissioner in January, overseeing the Investigations and Intelligence Bureau in Baltimore. Prior to that, Davis served as the Anne Arundel County Police Department chief.

During his tenure as Anne Arundel County Police chief, Davis worked productively with the county's Fraternal Order of Police Lodge 70. He improved diversity among the police academy class and improved the department's pay scale. Davis also helped acquire more than 200 new police cars, added a new facility to the county's dilapidated police academy, and helped fund the long-dormant police cadet program.

"We have dramatically enhanced transparency that earned us a Top 10 national social media ranking, reduced crime, reduced fatal crashes, partnered with the bicycle community, achieved a 95 percent homicide closure rate and realized dramatic strides in community policing," Davis said in December.

Davis resigned as Anne Arundel County's top cop in December 2014, pointing toward changes in the county's leadership for his decision to step down.

Davis began his career with the Prince George’s County Police Department. As a deputy chief in Prince George’s County, Davis oversaw the Bureau of Investigations. His leadership resulted in an increase in clearance rates ensuring violent criminals were taken off the streets. Davis rose through the ranks to become the assistant chief of the Prince George’s County Police Department. This role led to extensive experience working with consent decrees; creating a solid foundation of constitutional policing.

Davis briefly spoke at the news conference on Wednesday, stressing a service relationship with the community and building a relationship with the rank and file.

"I won't speak for the rank and file," Davis said. "I will walk with them. I will serve with them."

In a scathing FOP Lodge 3 report released on Wednesday, many Baltimore Police Department officers said they lacked the proper equipment, training, and leadership to adequately respond to the riots and unrest in the city following the death of Freddie Gray.

Davis said he hopes to bridge the gap between the community and police. He has a long history of working with residents and officials said Davis truly embodying the concepts of community policing.

Officials said Davis' experience in Prince George’s County made him uniquely qualified for the position overseeing the Baltimore Police Department’s Investigations and Intelligence Bureau.

As the Anne Arundel County Police Department chief, Davis made inroads in connecting with the community and building strong relationships with residents, officials said. He has continued that role in Baltimore, meeting with community groups and working to build strong relationships with city residents.

Moving forward to stem city violence Davis said, "We have to sharpen our focus."

A native of Maryland, Davis was born and raised in College Park and comes from a family with a history of policing in Maryland.

He is a graduate of the FBI National Academy and the FBI National Executive Institute. He earned his Master's Degree from Johns Hopkins University. Davis and his wife, Lisa, have four children. 

The Baltimore Sun

City confirms Kevin Davis as Police Commissioner

The Baltimore City Council voted overwhelmingly Monday night to confirm Kevin Davis as Baltimore's new police chief.

Davis, a former deputy to Commissioner Anthony W. Batts, was endorsed by a 12-2 vote of council members, several of whom said they polled community association presidents in their neighborhoods before deciding to support Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake's pick.

"We need stability in the Police Department," said City Councilman Brandon Scott, vice chairman of the public safety committee. "We cannot have a temporary captain of the ship with all the violence in the city and the trials [in the Freddie Gray case] coming up. ... I have confidence that the commissioner will do a better job of working with everyone to get the crime rate down."

City Councilman Eric T. Costello said he backs Davis "100 percent."

"He's the right guy for the job," Costello said. "He has humility. He knows how to listen. And he actually follows through after he listens."

City Councilman Carl Stokes, who is running for mayor, and Councilman Nick J. Mosby, who is considering a run, voted no. They have objected to a $150,000 severance package the mayor plans to include in Davis' contract.

Protesters march through Baltimore's streets after Commissioner Davis' confirmation

"The taxpayers want more accountability for these long-term contracts with big payouts if the person hired does not work out," Stokes said. "Many have told me that they supported the commissioner, but not a guaranteed payout. I believe the commissioner to be professionally experienced enough to do a very good job, but we needed a few more months to observe that to be so."

About an hour after the vote, Rawlings-Blake swore Davis in at a community meeting in Northwest Baltimore.

"We have to fight violent crime in a new and different way," Davis said. "It's going to take our best efforts and building relationships with the community." 

Kevin Davis, shown speaking during a City Council committee hearing last week, was confirmed Monday as the city's permanent police commissioner.

 (Algerina Perna / Baltimore Sun)

Rawlings-Blake named Davis interim commissioner after she fired Batts in July amid a surge of violence. The city had a record 45 homicides in July. The rate of killings has dropped slightly since then, but the city remains on a pace to reach 300 homicides for the first time since 1999.

While Davis has gained much support throughout Baltimore, he has vocal critics. After the council voted, protesters — many of the students — stood up and began to object. Council President Bernard C. "Jack," Young said those who were interrupting the meeting could face arrest, and the protesters began moving to the hallway, chanting, "Back up, back up, we want freedom, freedom! All these racist [expletive] cops, we don't need 'em, need 'em."

Police gave warnings that there would be arrests, and about 75 protesters moved outside the building. They marched in the street to the Inner Harbor, disrupting traffic.

"Kevin Davis does not at all have any of our interests at heart," said Makayla Gilliam-Price, 17, a Baltimore City College high school senior and a founding member of the activist group City Bloc. "I am extremely fed up, and this will not be the end."

Protesters said they were upset that Young ordered the closure of the balcony above council chambers in City Hall — just days after the protesters disrupted an earlier council hearing on the appointment of Davis by holding a sit-in there.

Young announced Monday afternoon that he would close the balcony Monday night, citing safety concerns.

"That balcony is in poor shape," Young said. "It's unsafe up there. We don't want nobody getting hurt up there."

Protesters immediately responded on social media and at an afternoon news conference before the council meeting, questioning the motivation behind the decision.

Adam Jackson of Leaders of a Beautiful Struggle, one of the groups involved in last week's protest, called the balcony closure "a real sneaky way of trying to curtail the voices of young people."

Wednesday night's sit-in occurred after about 30 protesters filled the balcony, disrupted the hearing by shouting out their demands of police, and then refused to leave. The protest drew a large police presence to City Hall in the early morning of Thursday. In the end, 16 protesters who refused to leave after receiving warnings from police were arrested and charged with trespassing.

Davis' five-year, $200,000 annual contract now goes before the Board of Estimates for approval Wednesday. That spending panel is controlled by the mayor.

Davis, 46, is a former Anne Arundel County police chief who spent much of his career with Prince George's County police.

In documents prepared for the Board of Estimates vote on his contract, administration officials praise Davis for training and equipping personnel to respond to civil unrest, working on a pilot program for body cameras, and increasing gun seizures.

After the City Council meeting, Lester Davis, a spokesman for Young, said the council president tried to strike a "balancing act" between respecting protesters' rights and maintaining order.

"He understands and believes it's good for people to protest and speak out," Lester Davis said. "He respects that. At the same time, the business of the city has to be conducted."

He noted that the Young received testimony from around the city in favor of the commissioner.

"He believes Commissioner Davis is going to hit the ground running," Lester Davis said. "Time is going to be the surest proof of his tenure."

City Council confirms Kevin Davis as police chief

City confirms Kevin Davis as police commissioner

The Baltimore City Council voted overwhelmingly Monday night to confirm Kevin Davis as Baltimore's new police chief.

Davis, a former deputy to Commissioner Anthony W. Batts, was endorsed by a 12-2 vote of council members, several of whom said they polled community association presidents in their neighborhoods before deciding to support Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake's pick.

"We need stability in the Police Department," said City Councilman Brandon Scott, vice chairman of the public safety committee. "We cannot have a temporary captain of the ship with all the violence in the city and the trials [in the Freddie Gray case] coming up. ... I have confidence that the commissioner will do a better job of working with everyone to get the crime rate down."

City Councilman Eric T. Costello said he backs Davis "100 percent."

"He's the right guy for the job," Costello said. "He has humility. He knows how to listen. And he actually follows through after he listens."

City Councilman Carl Stokes, who is running for mayor, and Councilman Nick J. Mosby, who is considering a run, voted no. They have objected to a $150,000 severance package the mayor plans to include in Davis' contract.

"The taxpayers want more accountability for these long-term contracts with big payouts if the person hired does not work out," Stokes said. "Many have told me that they supported the commissioner, but not a guaranteed payout. I believe the commissioner to be professionally experienced enough to do a very good job, but we needed a few more months to observe that to be so."

About an hour after the vote, Rawlings-Blake swore Davis in at a community meeting in Northwest Baltimore.

"We have to fight violent crime in a new and different way," Davis said. "It's going to take our best efforts and building relationships with the community."

Rawlings-Blake named Davis interim commissioner after she fired Batts in July amid a surge of violence. The city had a record 45 homicides in July. The rate of killings has dropped slightly since then, but the city remains on a pace to reach 300 homicides for the first time since 1999.

While Davis has gained much support throughout Baltimore, he has vocal critics. After the council voted, protesters — many of them students — stood up and began to object. Council President Bernard C. "Jack" Young said those who were interrupting the meeting could face arrest, and the protesters began moving to the hallway, chanting, "Back up, back up, we want freedom, freedom! All these racist [expletive] cops, we don't need 'em, need 'em."

Police gave warnings that there would be arrests, and about 75 protesters moved outside the building. They marched in the street to the Inner Harbor, disrupting traffic.

"Kevin Davis does not at all have any of our interests at heart," said Makayla Gilliam-Price, 17, a Baltimore City College high school senior and a founding member of the activist group City Bloc. "I am extremely fed up, and this will not be the end."

Protesters said they were upset that Young ordered the closure of the balcony above council chambers in City Hall — just days after the protesters disrupted an earlier council hearing on the appointment of Davis by holding a sit-in there.

Young announced Monday afternoon that he would close the balcony Monday night, citing safety concerns.

"That balcony is in poor shape," Young said. "It's unsafe up there. We don't want nobody getting hurt up there."

Protesters immediately responded on social media and at an afternoon news conference before the council meeting, questioning the motivation behind the decision.

Adam Jackson of Leaders of a Beautiful Struggle, one of the groups involved in last week's protest, called the balcony closure "a real sneaky way of trying to curtail the voices of young people."

Wednesday night's sit-in occurred after about 30 protesters filled the balcony, disrupted the hearing by shouting out their demands of police, and then refused to leave. The protest drew a large police presence to City Hall in the early morning of Thursday. In the end, 16 protesters who refused to leave after receiving warnings from police were arrested and charged with trespassing.

Davis' five-year, $200,000 annual contract now goes before the Board of Estimates for approval Wednesday. That spending panel is controlled by the mayor.

Davis, 46, is a former Anne Arundel County police chief who spent much of his career with Prince George's County police.

In documents prepared for the Board of Estimates vote on his contract, administration officials praise Davis for training and equipping personnel to respond to civil unrest, working on a pilot program for body cameras, and increasing gun seizures.

After the City Council meeting, Lester Davis, a spokesman for Young, said the council president tried to strike a "balancing act" between respecting protesters' rights and maintaining order.

"He understands and believes it's good for people to protest and speak out," Lester Davis said. "He respects that. At the same time, the business of the city has to be conducted."

He noted that the Young received testimony from around the city in favor of the commissioner.

"He believes Commissioner Davis is going to hit the ground running," Lester Davis said. "Time is going to be the surest proof of his tenure."

Baltimore Sun reporter Colin Campbell contributed to this article.

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The Title Chief was Marshal in Baltimore City

George Proctor Kane - Served in as law enforcement in Baltimore from 20 February 1860 until 27 June 1861 he was appointed as a Marshal
Jacob Frey - Served in as law enforcement in Baltimore from Oct 15 1885 - Jul 12 1897 he reached the rank of Marshal
Thomas F Farnan - Served in as law enforcement in Baltimore from July 13, 1897 - Aug 8, 1914 retiring as a Marshal
Samuel T Hamilton - Served in as law enforcement in Baltimore from Oct 7 1897 - Oct 7 1901 he was appointed as a Marshal
Samuel W House - Served in as law enforcement in Baltimore from Jun 10, 1897 - Aug 16 1920 retiring at the rank of Deputy Marshal
Robert D Carter - Served in as law enforcement in Baltimore from Aug 14, 1914 - until 1917-18

On July 12, 1897, the active connection of Marshal Jacob Frey with the Police Department ceased. On October 7, 1897, Capt. Samuel T. Hamilton was elected Marshal of Police to succeed Marshal Frey. Marshal Hamilton was a  veteran officer of the Civil War and a man of indisputable courage and integrity. For many years following the great civil conflict he had served on the Western frontier and took part in the unremitting campaigns against the Sioux and other Indian tribes, who were constantly waging war upon the settlers and pioneers as they pushed their way toward the setting sun, building towns and railroads and trying to conquer the wilderness and its natural dwellers. In the Sioux campaign of 1876, when Gen. George A. Custer and his gallant command, outnumbered ten to one by the Indians in the valley of the Little Big Horn, were annihilated, Captain Hamilton and his troop rode day and night in a vain effort to re-enforce Custer and his sorely pressed men. It was on June 26, 1876, the Seventh United States Cavalry rode and fought to their deaths, and on June 27, the day following, the reinforcements arrived, exhausted from their terrific ride across the country. Captain Hamilton and his troop fought through the rest of the campaign, which resulted in Sitting Bull, the great Indian war chief, being driven across the Canadian frontier.

Grand Master of Baltimore Cops
Marshal "Tom" Farnan
10 October 1909

Tom Farnan, Marshal of police of Baltimore, is one of the greatest police chiefs in the country, and his record is one that can hardly be equaled.

There are chiefs and chiefs. Some chiefs had become chief chiefly by virtue of the enormous and helpful political pole. Some have become chief merely because fortune happened and to be in a sunny humor one day and blew a feather of leadership in there direction.

Marshal Farnan is a chief in his own right, because he has seen to score years a practical service without a single lapse of duty, because he has been through all the knotty experiences that the men under him have to go through, because there is no wind DB or troublesome post so when the or so troublesome that his own experience can’t bring forth suggestions to help those under him who must tackle it. He knows his job at his job that some like an old shoe.

There is no fuss or hurry or glitter in marshal Fuhrman’s Office in the courthouse. He has a thoroughly work-a-day the atmosphere. There are no hidden private rooms or solemn ante-rooms, with bill boys hoping from one to another. There is no painfully obvious and austere system. Everything runs as smoothly and quietly as a clock that has been well made.

His Daily Routine
When Marshal Farnan comes down to work in the morning at 8:00 he first opens his mail and dictates replies to his ever ready, vigilant and hyper excellent secretary. John Swikert, the reformed actor. The replies to communication from departments in other cities he dictates right away. If there is no special hurry for a response he stays a letter until later in the day and turns his attention to the next matter what his docket, which uses daily reception to the police captains.

Every morning the captains from all the districts in the city make their way to the Marshal’s office and about nine or 9:30 o’clock. That explains how it is that you see those magnificent apparitions of gold lace and blue want the streets downtown in the early morning.

They had two wars the courthouse like Kingfishers – all whenever that Goldie painted, St. Louis burden is – after snakes. Once within the sacred precincts of the Marshal’s office they salute and clear their throats and then sit down and bring forth their daily written reports.

First off the Marshal looks over these reports. Many get ready for the regular morning captain’s pow-wow or big talk

To bring this about he chivies as the reporters at other room, disburses the band of anguished lad and mothers and parents who’ve come to seek lost sons and reputations, close of the bid door which lets it out, and also Ian, upon the outside world: all ranges of the extra board of seated, leather cushioned spell to back tears in his sanctum behind the railings in a semicircle, with his own swivel chair in the center and then addresses the meeting.

A Secret Conclave
The rest of this and description must be reading from a magic nation, for that meeting is held up behind closed doors, and the reader may assist an ex-paragraph or two, if he pleases, by as many poetic and affecting thoughts from his own imagination as he likes.

After the vulgar mob has been excluded marshal Farnan harangues his captain’s and asked them for Tom potential tidings regarding affairs in their districts. They tell him all that is going on – who is selling on Sunday, what old offenders have been robbed up, what handbooks have been reported, Albany dogs are howling at night and happy husbands are being their wives. Marshal Farna and hears them in silence and then gives his opinion. He asks his chiefs for their opinions, two and every morning, in fact, there is a formal council of war. If there is a big case on and the conference may last until afternoon.

The deliberation of this office to the body are never made public. They never find their way to any record except as the secrets brain of a capture or trial. The findings of the counselor simply repeated by the captains to their lieutenants and their men under them who are supposed to carry out orders.

The details are told before this gathering. Some more pathetic, some are humorous, some are tragic, some are serio-comic, and some nearly sorted and pitiful. All them or filled with human nature at its rankest. It’s the rankest novel in these incidents of real life and one of them would flavor a Henry James Book for 20 chapters.

Many Tales of Woe
So a custom as good a Marshal Tom grew to such tales, however, that he does not think about their more up peelings side. His sympathies are not hardened and he is not apathetic, and the stories he hears would stir him to tears sometimes Cynthia Loudon self to think about them. But he looks at them the only as problems of police work but he asked the soft and does not allow himself to become excited.

At the conclusion of his captain’s meeting Marshal Farnan and finishes as much man as he can and began and receiving callers. There are canned 10 you’ll call upon him and upon his patients. Men and women come to him with the most absurd complaints. For instance, last week an unshorn individual who claimed that he failed for were sent and materialized them self before the marshal's desk. The Marshal look to them and said good morning pleasantly. I will want you to find my boy said the unshorn individual – I waited two days for you to find my boy!

Who is your boy asked the Marshal Farnan and with a patient’s born out of experience? “I sent you a letter about him two days ago,” said the ever-weary stranger gruffly. “I live in Washington” what makes you think about your boy came to Baltimore asked the marshal softly

“He didn’t have money enough to go farther away,” said the stranger in a final tone, “he is here”

Then The Stranger Fated 
"Did you ever stop to consider that your son might have jumped a freight train and gone further away!” asked Marshal Farnan. “If you have any reason to think he came here I will have the city searched once more, but I can’t waste valuable time in following foolish clues.” Isn’t a stranger went and peace route it once more over the northeast corner of the courthouse.

The principal offenders in the way of putting it in our women, however, it must be a silly and firmly noted. They have the excuse that they don’t know much about police procedure.

Their inquiries and sell these are very very trying. No of media it’s specific in distances have come to mind, because innocence is so much of a kind of our so frequent that they’re not noticed when they occur, but it is not infrequent for a woman to ask the assistance of the Marshal of the police to find a street pet poodle.
At about 12:00 marshal Farnan and goes out to lunch. He plays a tall black derby hat above his cadaverous and melancholy countenance, dons a long coat of a somber hue and slides out of his office.

He launches at his home, now all west Lombard Street, near the corner of Fremont and he returns to work and at about half after 1:00. Then the afternoon from that time until 4:00 is taken out with hearing complaints of various sorts or in personnel excursions to different points in the city, and in answering letters.

At 4:00 he goes home once more and stays there and still his return to the office at six. There he retains, finally until 8:00, then he strolls out of the office, and if that night is fine walks home content that 14 days work has been dispatched.

Something Like Old Abe
It takes a peculiar talent to handle nicely the problems that arise in the marshal’s office in a great city, but Marshal Farna and has and the gift. To be a good chief of police you must be wise and moderate, filed at hearts, and dance of the year lapsed and strict or stringent, pleasant and unpleasant, as occasion demands. And above all, you must have a sense of humor and a sense of proportion. If you have not this sense of proportion in a position so filled with bothersome little details, you are lost, indeed. Marshal Tom like Abraham Lincoln has a sense of humor. Did you ever notice, by the way, the resemblance between Tom Fuhrman and Lincoln in many respects? Tom Fern labs jokes, jokes of all kinds, big, broad jokes and little ladylike jokes, and he prefers big, broad that man’s size to jokes best of all. Beyond that, he is always ready to swap a joke at the proper time. Beyond that, he has a melancholy and humorous countenance. Beyond that, he’d never has lost his head in the emergency.

And there are indeed, many characteristics in their separate makeup as in their separate and divergent spheres, wherein the martyred president and is alive and healthy terror two endeavors of Baltimore might meet and shake hands.

When dealing with the big situations Marshal Farnan and is always cool and collected. He does not act heard late, but he acts promptly and boldly. Marshal Tom simply dotes on a good a rattling, puzzling, sleuthing job that calls all of his wits into play. This side of his nature is shown very well in the factor that when he was on the force as a common garden variety member of the “finest” he was especially fond of burglary cases. He solicited, sought out and made up all manner of burglary cases just for the pleasure of working them up. Now, a burglary case to order a policeman is A bugbear. He doesn’t know how to handle it. It requires a deep thought and much to plumb to see and a man strolled act for untangling somebody else’s tangles.

A Specialist In Burglars
Marshal Tom used to specialize on burglary cases. The more tangled they were the better he likes them. He made himself as for a number of clever captures he effected among the gentleman of the GEN the and dark lantern, and he is on record as having unearthed a burglary case would never in any sane world be supposed to grow. He led the burglars. He may have caught more burglars then there were burgers but at anyrate , e caught all that there were in his district. Then another quality besides this one of patience and persistence that helped to make Marshal Farna and a good police officer is his ability to pick out the salient one amidst a mass of close and one that down. He is practical and common-sense, and he has worked among men so long that he is able to perceive by a process of divination Hal a man would act under given circumstances. In the office marshal Farna and is silent with his near a acquaintances, a personable, but taciturn, with those who have not yet made his acquaintance, and affable and even jovial with his friends. After an hour’s, or when there is a slackness in the rush of things at the office. He is laughing, ggood-humored boisterous sometimes, they all together a good fellow. Every wheel man has some cached adresse takes that distinguishes him from the Sunday school pictures of the perfect citizen. It is the things by which you had a em up in your memories storehouse.

Sometimes He Explodes
Marshal Farnan’s unscriptural characteristics is a Celtic an exceedingly hot temper that if once allowed to get out of bounds rampages around in a very the lively matter until it cools off, which happens very shortly. It is not often that the Marshal gets fighting mad, but when he does he is red-hot. The object of his wrath goes to a cyclone cellar or picks up his remains and escapes.

“_ _ _ _ _ !!! ))) !!! ? _______” “ It is one of the Marshal’s off days.” Addy-kongs and mere assistants of all sorts scamper out into the marble corridor like leaves blown by a frosty autumn wind. But they don’t come often these spells of wrath, and they clear away shortly and politely. “Marshal Farnan is one of the pleasantest men in the world to work for” said John Swikert, his time-tried secretary, last week. “He doesn’t hurry you and he is always good tempered _ unless you interfere with his work. I have been with him for years, and I wouldn’t want to work for any other man in Baltimore.” Another one of Mr. Fuhrman’s Office family is his deputy, Mr. Manning. Deputy manning is almost as well known as his chief, and his duties are almost as onerous. He has been associated with Mr. Farnan for many years and he was a brother copper on the force with him for many other years. He is ready at any minute to lookout for marshal Farnan’s and all the jobs in addition to his own, when Marshal Frey men, for any reason is not at the office. Last day a year ago, when marshal Farnan had been 40 years a policeman, his official family and many of his admirers in the city and state joined together in giving him a banquet and a silver service. The banquet and presentation came off at Hazaer’s Hall and a large crowd was in attendance. Governor Warfield was there, and marshal Farnan made a speech. There were other speeches by various men prominent in Baltimore.

His Police Career
In presenting the service president will us, of the police board said, the 1 April 30^th 1867 just 40 years ago tonight the young man, then just 21 years of age was appointed as a patrolman on the police force of Baltimore. He reported to the southern police station and was assigned to duty, with the instructions to keep his post quiet. By day like this new officer had made 25 arrests on February 1, 1870, just three years later he was promoted to the grade of sergeant and his regime enforcement of discipline and as kind words of caution to his squad, some of whom are members now of the force, are well remembered and appreciated. On April 24 1871 a shutdown was promoted to the grade of lieutenant on October 24, 1885 promoted to the grave captain on February 23 1893 promoted to the grade of deputy Marshal and on August 8, 1902 to the grade of Marshal of the police force of Baltimore City. Upon examination of records of the department there is nowhere to be found any entry indicating that this young man had ever been censured for neglect of his duty or for the slightest violation of any of the rules of the department. During his long career of faithful service many incidents can be pointed out where, at the risk of his own life, he had intervened for the protection of life and property, and where violators of the law had been uncovered by him and brought to face the charges made against them.

His Record Is Clean
Marshal Farnan occupies a most and veal position in the history of police affairs in this city. So far as can be ascertained Baltimore alone can boast one of the chief’s who has surged 40 years in various ranks without interpretation and instill vigorous and strong. That he showed, city’s long years of experience, occupying from the lowest to the highest rank, come in contact with many exacting a an exciting situations, temptations, hardships and dangers, come out of all unharmed and with a record perfectly clean and with a reputation of having faithfully and will perform his duties, is a great record. And should excite emulation and the members of the police force.

Marshal Farnan and has a national reputation and as good work at the head of the department has given this city the name amongst crux as the graveyard because few of the criminals who have operated in Baltimore in the past years have got away. In presenting this beautiful testimonial to you on behalf of the force and you are many friends, it is proper and that I should say that year services have not gone on warded. There may be cities where a man in your position commands more money than you get, but there is no man and public service and he were in the world who was more appreciated then you among your fellow citizens, and this testimonial should be a lasting memory to you of the esteem in which you are held by your fellow citizens. 

His Duet of Vices
There be way he’s in ways of living, and when a man has lived 2/3 score years and AIDS fares to complete a great deal more than three score and 10, the Psalmist’s allotment to mortals, it is a matter of interest to know how he lives. Marshal Farnan is common-sense in his mode of life. He rarely touch is liquor, but if when off-duty he wants a drank it takes one, he smokes and chews tobacco and he eats in very rapidly. These two points are about the only ones in the schedule of his personal economy that could be marked with black crosses. He smokes periodically outrageous cigars and thief fairly bolts his food. He is fond of fresh air. He usually walks to his home out one Lombard street if today is good, at the end of the day’s work. Whenever he can, he takes the error. Just about two years ago marshal Farnan attracted a good deal of attention on a gossipy way among Baltimoreans by backing the Biblical saying that it is not good for a man to live alone and by doing in one better by the assertion that a man had the best began the process of living double early. His pronunciamento became a topic of tea tables and café tables. There were frenzied and discussions in all parts of the city, pro and con, whether or not and Y. Marshal Farnan stock staunchly to his guns. It was good for a man to marry early he said, he married early himself and he had been a most exemplary family man. His wife’s name before marriage was Margaret Sicilia Applegarth, and she was the daughter of Robert Applegarth of his city. Say what you will, the ira’s blood produces many great and enviable characteristics. It produces humor, between sea and energy, as ample fide by Pat Kirwan, Michael Redding and in Marshal Farnan’s keen appreciation of the humorous situations comes from his Irish birth. 

How He Joined The Force
The main facts of Mmarshal Farnan’s Life since he joined the police force are in prison wallace’s speech on the occasion of the affair at Hazazer’s Hall. His life before he became a policeman can be summed up briefly. Thomas frank Farnan was born in Baltimore on March 15, 1846. His father was Michael F Farnan a labor who had been for worn off to retire from work at his old age. Young Farnan attended the public schools of Baltimore and later Calvert hall, from which he was graduated in 1862. Is ambition had always been to become a carpenter when he should grow to manhood. From his early boyhood days he had played an worked with carpenters tolls, and soon as he finished his high school he apprenticed himself out to a carpenter. She as a carpenter he labored for about four years, when he went to work in his chosen line prompted him to turn his attention to mail writing. He was not long in mill writing before another dull season found him without work. And this time there occurred a reorganization of moment in the Baltimore police department, and several of Farnan’s friends found themselves positions of influence within the new board of police commissioners. It was suggested to him that while he was without work in his own trade he tries handed being a policeman. Farnham was at that time just 21-the age requirement for application for position as police-and he determined to permit his friends to secure for him a place. In April of 1867 he was appointed as policemen. In those days the police were not required to serve as probationers, as they are today and the young officer was given a regular assignment, and that in one of the least desirable districts of the city. Four days of police duty and the southern district decided the young officer that he had not been intended for a policeman. That day as he greeted the lieutenant of the district it was with no cheerful face, and he frankly announced that he was tired of being a policeman in which to resign. Hold on a little longer than 10 advised you will like it better in after a while young Farnan’s held on. His First Big Case
One of the first big cases marshal Farna never figured it was that of George woods alias George Moore in Negro who was a desperate thief. Woods came as his first big case, and for that reason and the arrest is still green in the memory of the marshal. It was on the night of January 7 1869 that he made the arrests, after having worked on the matter for nearly a year. Captain Wallace Clayton, of this daughter Brittany, lying at the bowery wharf was one night robbed and the thieves cut out one of his eyes when a captain tried to fight for his life the case aroused a great deal of indignation, and though the thieves left no close behind patrolman Farnan’s worked steadily to unearth the crime. Finally he struck the trail and captured woods. Captain Clayton identified him as his assailant, and woods went to the Maryland penitentiary for 15 years. One of the most eventful periods of the marshal’s life was during the railroad riots of 1877. He was a lieutenant in the southern districts under Captain Delanty at the time and was in charge of a squad of men at Camden station. When the fifth regiment arrived at the depot the mob threw stones at the soldiers and lieutenant Farnan’s saw a big man Ser one of the missiles.

Fought His Way Out
He grasped that the man and his fellow officers tried to persuade him not to fight his way through the mob with a prisoner. Lieutenant’s Farnan said he had arrested the man and intended to take him to the southern district police station. He started with a prisoner and the mob may to rush for him. Women called from the windows to the officer to take refuge endorsed to keep from being killed, but he shook his head. Things came so warm that the lieutenant’s all he must go to some extent to impress the crowd with his determination. He drew his pistol, placed it against the prisoners forehead and told him if he did not tell the mob he was willing to go to the station house he would blow was brains out. The prisoner thoroughly frightened, told the crowd that he would accompany the officer willingly and the mob withdrew on the lieutenant Farnan was the only policeman who got to the mob with a prisoner. His presence of mine and ready wit saved him upon that occasion as it was many times since. But those things are pass now, and as he looks back on them the marshal layoffs heartedly, as though they were big jokes. He is particularly fond of telling these war stories in which he was the blood of the joke, but he also knows a good many in which he figure’s as the joker, for the Marshall is full of fun.

A Frenzied Irishman
He tells with great delight of a case which occurred while he was lieutenant in the southern district there was a lot of excitement down there one day he says and it was all ‘caused by a little Irishmen he raise such a racket about his house that the neighbors complained and a minister declared he could not conduct his services. I went around to the house, and there stood and probably 800 persons listening to that curses and shrieks of the man. Some officers stood outside and I ask why they did not go in and arrest the man. Why he has a pistol and told us he would kill the first man who comes near the door they said I asked who he had the one for in a new one had been issued in the case, and when the aid was given me a call to the man inside asking if he heard me yes I hear you he said and I’ll blow the tapi your head off if you come near me” I read the wanted him in and told him to open the door. He refused and repeated his threat that he would kill the first man who tried to enter his house.

I put my shoulder against the door and it went in with a crash. A stepped into the room holding a lamp in my hand which had been provided by a woman who live nearby. There’s still a little higher smitten in the middle of the room, and when he saw me walking toward him he said, “one marshal Farnan had you do? - if I did know it was you I did open the door long ago!”

He Caught a Tartar
One night when the marshal was a sergeant he met and Negro who was deaf and dumb. The men was powerfully builds and had committed an assault. Sergeant Farnan placed him under arrest. In the grow wheeled about, caught the sergeant’s arm and threw him over his shoulders as he would handle an infant. The sergeant was at the man’s mercy, because both his hands were helpless and he could not use his feet. Holding his prisoners tightly as he could and without apparent effort, the Negro climbed up the stairs of a house in the neighborhood until he raged in the attic. There the sergeant found himself face to face with three other neighbors of bad reputation. Realizing his position, as sergeant told the trio if they did not help him placed a deaf and dumb Negro under arrest he would held every one of them if he got away alive. The officer was an earnest, and his tone could not be mistaken. All the men knew him and they felt they had better take sides with him. The grappled with the big black and the five men pits down the steps to gather this trouble on the staircase was more then the old wood can stand at a gateway. Sergeant Farnan’s knew it was the encounter of his life. As soon as them as of humanity of which he was part reached the sidewalk he wrapped on the curb with his Espantoon. Other policeman came to his aid. It required eight of the “finest” to land and Negro in the station house.

How He Was Called Down
There has been much made of the fact that Marshal Farnan has never been reprimanded in his official career. He has not, but he has been severely repulsed as the following anecdote will show. There was a great throng of people in front of the cathedral during the recent cathedral centenary. As a Marshal had policeman of all grades there to see the order was preserved, and he went up to look about for himself. He saw a little group standing in the way, so he walked over and asked that the group stand back. “Oh! Go on, Tom Farnan, and don’t you get smart; for we’ve got more right here then you have!” Said a typical old Irish woman as her eyes snapped fire at the Marshal. If the marshal is a fighter he displayed none of this ability there, but moved off without another word. Later he told it as a good joke on himself. Marshal Farnan knows everyone worth knowing in Baltimore, from cardinal gibbons down the line. When he can get away from his office for a few hours he likes to move about the city and talk to the people. As a rule, deputy marshal manning is with him and often they are seen at the theaters in the evening. When he was a couple of days off

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