A History of Presque Isle: As Told Through Conversation with the Park’S Legendary Hermit, Joe Root

Copyright © 2013 by Eugene H. Ware.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-8396-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-8398-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-8397-5 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013906567

iUniverse rev. date: 04/16/2013

CONTENTS

Preface

An Introduction to Joe Root

Chapter 1   The Beginning

Chapter 2   Early History—Erie Indians Era

Chapter 3   The French and Indian Era

Chapter 4   The Transition Years

Chapter 5   The American Experience Begins

Chapter 6   A Settlement on Lake Erie

Chapter 7   Early Erie—A Beginning—Judah Colt, Saint or Demon

Chapter 8   The War of 1812 and The Battle of Lake Erie

Chapter 9   Perry Arrives

Chapter 10   The Battle of Lake Erie and Perry’s Return to Erie

Chapter 11   The Lighthouses of Presque Isle and Erie

Chapter 12   Changes in Early Erie and Presque Isle

Chapter 13   Changes in Early Erie and Presque Isle

Chapter 14   Waterworks Park

Chapter 15   Waterworks Park

Chapter 16   Progress and Setbacks Come to Presque Isle and Erie

Chapter 17   Progress and Setbacks Come to Presque Isle and Erie

Chapter 18   Presque Isle and Early Erie History—The Finishing Touches

Acknowledgements

Bibliograp

Also by the Eugene H. Ware—

Moods of Presque Isle

A Walk on the Park

Whispers Across the Pond

Images of America—Presque Isle State Park

Preface

P resque Isle is a simple sand spit extending seven miles along the Lake Erie shoreline and forming a peninsula. Located opposite Erie, Pennsylvania, in 1921 it was named Pennsylvania’s second state park. The park now attracts over four-million visitors each year. This is more visitors than the fabled Yellowstone National Park draws annually. Science tells us that this unique peninsula was formed nearly 4,000 years ago by huge glaciers during the formation of the Great Lakes.

Since the 1800s, Presque Isle has been an ecological and recreational paradise. It has about it a special, yet unexplainable aura that visitors from around the world appreciate. It is a place where guests can enjoy solitude, reflection and the wonders of nature. The park has been my subject for four prior books and a twice-a-week nature blog about it. As an author and avid nature photographer, I have written two poetry and color photography coffee table books about Presque Isle. They are Moods of Presque Isle and Whispers Across the Pond. In 2006, I wrote and published a book called A Walk on the Park. This book, designed to be taken with you as you travel the trails and walking paths of Presque Isle, outlines and describes 20 different nature walks. It features many sidebars containing information regarding photography, history, plants and trees plus the animals that live on the park

In 2011, I was approached by Arcadia Publishing to write a book about Presque Isle State Park for their Images of America series. This book, published later that year, features 260 vintage photographs of the park dating back to the 1870s.

However, even before that book made it to the bookstores, my mind began humming with ideas about my next writing project. I started a novel by writing six chapters.

Then, as they say, a funny thing happened along the way. A single question kept coming up from friends, book buyers and other writers. Why don’t you write a history of Presque Isle? My answer was usually, No, I don’t think so. I thought that history writing wouldn’t be my thing; however, history itself has always been a hobby and interest of mine.

One of the unusual issues I noticed when discussing and researching Presque Isle was that it is called by many different names. I have always called it Presque Isle. This is the name the early French gave the peninsula that shelters the Erie Harbor. In French, Presque Isle means Almost Island. However, I soon found that many called it the Peninsula or the Park. Once in a while someone, I would meet would call it the Island. Of course, the official name is now Presque Isle State Park. When it first became a state park, it was originally named Pennsylvania State Park. This lasted about twenty years. As you read this book, you will find these names are used interchangeably, except the one you will not see used in the book is the Island. I feel that it is used only by people unfamiliar with the park.

I found that interest in the park’s past and how it progressed can be easily understood, if you realized that a book that fully documented the park’s history and its development had not been available. Of course, there are bits and pieces scattered throughout many articles and books about Erie, its marine heritage and, of course, about Lake Erie itself. However, they do not tell what I would consider the full Presque Isle story.

Because of the number of people who visit the park annually, I knew there would be an avid interest in its history and heritage. Based on my experience and comments and the letters I have received, I knew the park has had a heartfelt effect on many peoples’ lives.

Nevertheless, there were many compelling reasons to reject writing another book about Presque Isle. The biggest of my own being I had already written four books about the park. Still another was what I sensed could be a major problem: how could you possibly make a history book interesting? History is interesting; however, reading history can be boring to many people.

Then as I started to do more research and began thinking about how to structure a new book, I began to see answers to my various questions. In my early research, I found ghosts, legends and angels running up and down Presque Isle’s historical paths. Suddenly I was fascinated with the many and unusual facts and legends surrounding Presque Isle that were turning up and how pure legend is sometimes accepted as fact.

For example, I found almost everyone knows about Oliver Hazard Perry and his part in the historical battle of Lake Erie with its stunning and critical results. However, few people I talked to knew of the second fleet of ships that sailed out of Presque Isle onto Lake Erie about a year later. They sailed to engage the British at Port Dover, Canada, and two other ports. What I found was that almost no one has ever heard about this shameful part of the War of 1812. This little portion of history is one of those ghosts of Presque Isle. I explore this within the book.

As time went on, the idea of writing about Presque Isle’s early years kept bouncing around in my mind like the steel ball of a pinball machine. The more I thought about it, I recognized if I did decide to take on the project, there would need to be three distinct sections.

The first would be the pure history of the park and its development. However, during my early research, I found that fact, legend and even sometimes fantasy were deeply intertwined into the park’s documented history. I recognized beforehand that this could become an unanticipated challenge and dilemma. I would need to find a logical, yet interesting way to deal with it.

The next part in the book would explore how each specific location or landmark on the park was developed, left undeveloped or simply set aside as a natural preservation region.

As well as just including pure history and legend, I began to feel the inclusion of some form of random personal account and reflections about Presque Isle and its beauty would add a special dimension to the book. From my personal contacts and experiences gained by researching my other books, I found the park has had a marked impact on visitors’ lives.

Early in 2009, I began to talk about the book and its possible content with many people. This included friends, Presque Isle State Park employees and people who visit the park daily. Most thought I should undertake the project.

Sometime during the summer of 2010, I packed the information and drafts of that unfinished novel I had been working on into a large box and moved it to my basement office. Next, I began to cover our dining room table with more Presque Isle research. I have not seen the table since. It was during this time that the Images of America book was written and published, so the research I was doing would work for both books.

In my early studies on the park history, I found the French view on settling Erie and Presque Isle differed significantly from the British and Colonial American views. Some differences were only minor, yet I discovered some were major.

Another frustrating fact I found was that much of the old documentation and records contradicted one another. This meant that I would need to find still another way to handle contradictions in recorded history.

It was not long before I realized that some history of Erie City and County would need to be included in the book. This history would be needed to weave a cohesive picture of what happened in the area and how it influenced Presque Isle, and how the park affected the development of Erie.

Still another problem would be how to write a book about something that could be at times dry and boring like history and facts while making it interesting enough for someone to read without falling asleep.

Then, while I was attending a board meeting of a local nonprofit, a friend made a casual comment that solved my problem. She said, Why don’t you have our old Presque Isle’s hermit, Joe Root, tell the story? I laughed and said, Oh sure, like he could. Remember he is dead.

The longer I thought about it, the more the idea sounded like a potential solution. Maybe I could use Joe Root’s viewpoint to intertwine history and legend into a fascinating profile of Presque Isle. After all, wasn’t Joe a legend himself? He was part fiction and part fact all rolled into a single slightly unusual person. The history of Joe reflects that anyone meeting him had a hard time forgetting him. Joe had a way of being memorable, for better or worse.

A born optimist, Joe was charmed by nature’s magic and amused by his almost daily contacts with the people he met or just watched from his hiding places in the woods. He fit the description of a character perfectly. At times, he was more than a bit strange and had many out-of-the-ordinary ideas and mannerisms. Nevertheless, I felt this uniqueness could help me tell my story in an interesting way. I could just bring him back to life.

I knew I could make Joe work for me. He could ask me questions and introduce seemingly unrelated topics up for discussion. With him as an active contributor, I could meet him at various places on the park and describe the location or scene and also add just a small touch of the park’s natural beauty. It would become an excellent way to set the mood. Joe and I would discuss Presque Isle’s history and how the peninsula had changed since he was living there. The interplay between us would add flavor to the telling. He could be a key ingredient in my history and stories about the park. Like a recipe, I would supply the main ingredients, and Joe could stir in color and spice.

I was not sure any one book could possibly cover the entire history of the park, be interesting and still manage to show the wonder of nature that is Presque Isle. However, I thought it would be worth a try. The book traces important activities that took place up until the early 1950s. I stopped at this point because many readers already know this more modern portion of the park’s history.

I hope to paint a historical picture about a special place, yet give the reader a feeling of the park’s natural beauty and its effects on visitors’ lives. The reader should understand that while I am trying to show an accurate history of Presque Isle, the legends and tall tales are, at times, impossible to separate from the true history. I have attempted to show the reader what is history and what may be legend.

The reader should also realize that by bringing Joe back to life with his questions and comments adds a twist of fiction into the story. After all, Joe’s discussion is really just fiction. However, I have tried to use the dialogue between myself and Joe to bring important history, legend and information into Presque Isle’s story. One small warning is that throughout the book you will find Pittsburgh spelled as Pittsburg in many places. The reason is that the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania changed the spelling to no letter h for many years, before restoring it in the early 1900s.

As I write this Preface, I am sitting on Presque Isle at an old swayback picnic table close to Swan Cove, enjoying the rhythms of nature firsthand. A ripple of cool breeze silently passes over the nearby pond. The birds twitter as butterflies cruise the wild flowers at water’s edge. In the background, I can hear a light insect buzz among the grasses. This morning is a wonderful and peaceful start of another day on Presque Isle.

Suddenly I am feeling a wave of excitement over the challenge that I know writing this book will present. I sincerely hope that with this book, I am capable of intertwining the stories, history and legends into an interesting picture of the park for all to enjoy.

An Introduction to Joe Root

H is name was Joe Root. He was real and did spend nearly 32 years living on Presque Isle. To some he ranked as the King of Presque Isle; others just called him that loony old hermit out on the park. Like most legends, the background and knowledge on Joe varies depending on your source. For example, diverse sources show he could have been born either in 1880 or 1858; no one is sure. The 1858 date seems more logical since almost all documentation and stories about Joe begin about 1882. That means Joe would have been about 24 or 25 years of age when his legends began and when he began his trips to Presque Isle.

Joe Root on Presque Isle 1907

Little is known about Joe’s childhood. Most people at the time believed that he lived among circus people from Dayton, Ohio. One story has his mother a circus person named Froney Goodbye who wintered with the circus in Girard. Some people believe this is true because of Joe’s skills as a ventriloquist and his stories about animals and the circus. When he was with children, he would carry on conversations with a hollow tree or maybe just talk into his hat, which, to the delight of the children, would answer him back.

Still, another story has him the son of Susan Root, who lived much of her life in the county poorhouse. Again, this story has its roots in the circus, as the unknown father was rumored to have been involved in a traveling show. For the first part of his life, Susan and Joe were said to have lived with Susan’s mother in a small outbuilding along the towpath of the Erie Extension Canal. However, like most tales about Joe’s early years, no one can be sure if this is true or not.

As a young child of nine, he moved out to Fairview to work with Gilson Johnson and learned to be a fisherman. When he reached his teens, he stayed with the widow Mary Johnson, in her home near one of the canal locks by 12th and Poplar Streets. He helped Mary around the house in return for room and board. However, as he became a young man, he got wanderlust and began to spend more and more time on Presque Isle. Over time, he learned to become a full-blown fisherman’s apprentice and later, for a short time, a self-employed fisherman. Most of his fishing took place on and around Presque Isle and Walnut and Elk Creeks.

When the widow Johnson died in 1897, Joe became homeless and essentially moved almost totally out onto the park. He would live there from mid-March until the cold weather drove him off the peninsula just to survive. He would make a move into town and usually become a winter resident of the county poorhouse where he could get a warm bed and a hot meal. When spring arrived, he would leave his room at the poorhouse and move back to Presque Isle.

One of Joe’s Shacks—1905

Joe Root’s allure and legends are extensive and varied; however, one aspect is constant in all the stories. It seems he would have at least four shacks or huts built from driftwood, packing crates and anything else he could get his hands on. These shacks would be hidden away in the woods of the park. He would move from one shack to another so no one would know exactly where to find him. Most people believe he did this to keep out of the weather, yet the local lawman, Constable Siebel was sure it was to keep one step ahead of the long reach of the law. The constable had an intense distrust of Joe and watched him carefully whenever he came into town. Joe would usually move closer to the lake or bay in warm weather and move inland as storms and cold approached.

Joe had a pattern of coming up with irrational money-making propositions. Of course, most of his ideas involved investment of someone else’s money. For example, at a downtown drinking establishment in early 1900, he talked to the many patrons about one of his newest ideas. He felt confident that if someone, not him, would string a thick cable from Crystal Point on Presque Isle to the Public Dock, he could train the park’s raccoons to walk the cable while pushing rabbits across it in a baby carriage. He made it clear that only the carriage would be attached to the cable, and his animals would be well trained. His idea was to charge a fee to watch this feat from both the shore and aboard boats in the bay. He was sure a fortune could be made. Needless to say, he found no investors. Joe had a fondness for good old-fashioned whiskey and spent many hours at local pubs.

A diminutive and bearded man who at times walked with a limp, his appearance sometimes appeared odd. Many days he wore three or four pairs of pants at the same time. They were usually bib overalls. He did this even on the hottest summer days. Although asked many times, no one ever received a logical answer explaining why he did this.

Most of the time, Joe wore an old felt hat and some sort of vest. With Joe, a shirt was always optional. He would wear one on the hottest summer days and leave it off on cold autumn days. Some stories included Joe wearing a tall black top hat. At times, this hat would blow off his head in the Presque Isle wind, and he would chase it down the beach to the delight of the children playing nearby. When people spread their blankets on the beach for a summer picnic, many found Joe an uninvited visitor to the party. Of course, the children loved this.

Over his entire life on the peninsula, Joe had contact and discussions with the little people he said lived in the woods of the park. He called them the Jeebees. According to him, they would only talk to him, and they helped him predict the weather and told him where the fish were biting. To the delight of the children, he would rap on a log, and the Jeebees would answer him, but only if there were no adults present.

Joe’s over-all rumpled look disturbed many parents whose children were park visitors. First of all, he had buckteeth and spoke in a high and squeaky voice. To top this off, he had long scraggly unkempt hair, a bushy mustache with an extensive curly beard. Joe was an oddball, but he did know a great deal about Presque Isle.

With Joe’s help, I hope I can make Presque Isle’s history much more interesting, understandable and informative.

Chapter I

The Beginning

I t is just a few minutes before daybreak as I walk onto North Pier to meet with Joe for the first time. The pier is varnished with an overnight rain and sparkles in the morning light as I move toward a channel-side wooden picnic table. The first rays of dawn glisten off the nearby grass and tree leaves creating a thousand tiny rainbows in the morning glow. There are patches of fog appearing and disappearing on the pearl-grey lake.

Moving to the table, I open my knapsack and spread out the material I will need this morning. Today Joe and I will begin our talks by covering how the park was formed. I still have some quiet time before he is due to arrive, so I sit back and light my pipe and watch the eastern sky move from grey to purple, and then little by little slide into a stunning display of burnt orange; just another peaceful day on Presque Isle.

Suddenly, like a ghost, Joe is there. I didn’t see or hear him come down the path or pier. He was just standing beside me.

Today he has on an old brown hat, modest overalls with a large hole in one knee and the other in perfect shape. His smile is bright, and he seems in a good mood. Slowly, he takes off his hat and brushes the dusty brim with his fingers. I am sure he might call what he is wearing a hat, but to me that would be a stretch. It has seen so many years of service that it could only be called a hat because it is resting on his head.

I’m hoping I can ’member enough ’bout Presque Isle to help ya with that there book. I know ya must love Presque Isle ’cause it is writ all over yer face. When I lived here, some of them old fellas from town would row their dinghies ’cross the bay, and we’d meet by the campfire, drink coffee and talk fer a great while ’bout the peninsula, fishing and trapping. Life wuz sure good on Presque Isle.

Joe, I’m sure you will be a big help. Before we start talking about the history of this sand spit we call Presque Isle, why don’t you tell me about that old legend that was passed on from the Indians on how the park was formed. I’ve heard it is pretty interesting.

"Sure will. Ever since I moved out here, I wondered how this little-bitty strip of sand and grass come to be. It seems to me, this whole peninsula always is trying to move down the lake toward Buffalo. I wuz wondering why? All the years I been coming to the park, legends ’bout Presque Isle have always been floating on the winds and through them bars in town.

"The old legend you be talking ’bout says them Injins that lived around these parts had their own version ’bout how Presque Isle wuz formed. I heard them Eriez Injins, some folks called them the Cat People, believed the Great Spirit created the world. That meant he made all them Injins, other people, animals and fishes, lakes, forests and streams. Everything. They believed that they wuz the Great Spirit’s chosen people. To show his love, The Great Spirit led them to the shores of a great lake and gave them what they needed to live a real good life. That lake wuz Lake Erie.

"Them Eriez mostly lived on the shores of Lake Erie and wandered inland to near French Creek. That be somewhere near Waterford, which was a far piece down the road.

"Like me, them Eriez hunted and fished to live. They wuz good at building birch bark canoes from trees they got in them nearby woods. Now, that is where that great Presque Isle legend begins.

"It seems that on one of them fishing trips, ’bout 1500 or so, they went a far piece out on the lake looking fer the place where the sun sinks into the water. That’s when them ghost voices of the lake called out warning them to go back. When they wouldn’t obey, the spirits of the lake wuz angered and caused a terrible storm on the lake. Injin legend says that huge waves big as their lodges wuz thundering and crashing down on them.

"Now, If’n ya ever been out on the lake ’round here in a storm, you’d understand what fear they musta felt. I’m sure them poor Injins wuz near scared out of their wits.

Anyway, the Great Spirit seeing this stretched out his left arm and put it down deep into the lake to protect them from the storm. Where the arm of the Great Spirit had dipped into the lake, a huge sandbar in the shape of an arm was formed. The legend then says that the Great Spirit told them this sandbar would be there forever to protect the tribe. So now, that small sandbar is this here peninsula and is known as Presque Isle State Park.

Wait a minute. I think that legend is impressive, and I love the way you tell it, but you do know that scientists have other ideas on how Presque Isle came to be, don’t you?

Don’t nobody question that, but their fancy ideas git so frightful boring. Fact is, a fella one time told me a scientist at a public hall meeting back in 1900 wuz talking and put the whole town meeting to sleep. Every last person that showed up wuz sound asleep.

"Well, even if that’s true, Joe, they still usually get most of their facts right. It seems scientists believe six hundred million years ago, the whole middle of North America was covered with a shallow saltwater sea. These scientists say that over a twenty million year span, volcanic activity nearly split North America in two. This warming and cooling of the sea deposited sand, salts and silt all over the area. Over many years, compression and tremendous heat turned these deposits into shale, limestone, and sandstone. Then, like magic, the region transformed from fire to ice with the arrival of the ice age.

People with more education than me say that for five to six million years huge glaciers advanced and retreated many times over this area. They were called the Wisconsin Glaciers. These giant sheets of ice leveled mountains dug valleys and moved huge deposits of the sand, rock and shale. In the northern and western regions of North America, this ice bumped into tougher bedrock, while in the southern areas it just moved the softer shale and sandstone aside.

Jest a minute there. How many times do ya think the ice mighta covered the Erie area and what ’bout up yonder in Canada? I bet the ice up there musta been thicker in some areas, so it dug in more. I thought I heard somewhere that this ice mighta been up to two miles thick. Could that be true? That sure would’a been powerful heavy.

"It was heavy, Joe. In fact, in some places they do believe the ice could have been well over two miles thick. Most of the scientists believe the large drop between the lake levels from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario at Niagara Falls was caused by the weight of glacier ice pushing the land mass down in that area which did not contain really heavy bedrock to support that much weight.

From what I have been able to come across, the ice covered this locale as many as fifteen or twenty times. In fact, in one book I found, they said the whole earth was covered with ice at least twice. Up in Canada and in the upper Great Lakes areas where it stayed colder, the ice advanced and retreated but didn’t melt as often. This ice was considerably thicker and heavier, so it cut into the surface much deeper. The weight of these glaciers crushed the earth’s crust all over North America. When they moved or melted, the earth’s crust sprang back changing the structure of the land. Rivers could and did reverse their flows, and basins, lakes and ponds would form and disappear almost at random.

Them boys down at Reeds tavern said that when the ice began to melt, the Great Lakes wuz formed fourteen thousand years ago in the big dips in the area, and that huge lakes wuz formed between them ridges left behind. Mosta the big dips wuz from the big ice glaciers that wuz, like ya said a mile or two thick. That sure musta made a huge amount of water, and I bet it filled them new lakes real quick.

"You are right about that. As the ice retreated northward, a whole series of ice dams were left behind. Large lakes began to form behind these ice dams in each of the Great Lakes’ basins, or as you call them dips. Each lake left a deposit of sand, rock and even sandbars along the new and changing shorelines.

"Like all bodies