By Stephen Smoot
Late last month, Franklin and surrounding fire response and rescue units went screaming up Mitchell Mountain, then to several other locales as violent spring winds whipped up fires across the region.
The raging infernos in the South Branch and Shenandoah areas gave a macabre context to the plethora of preparations undertaken by the Pendleton County Historical Society to mark the 100th anniversary of the April 17, 1924, fire that ravaged the heart of what is now the historic downtown of Franklin.
Franklin in the 1920s was a bustling town with rows of large fine newer homes and a busy downtown. Under President Warren Harding, then Calvin Coolidge, the Great War was receding in the national rear view mirror and prosperity was the word of the day. Depression and World War II lay far over the horizon in the future.
Like in any era, Franklin debated how much to invest in vital infrastructure. The town had faced a major scare in 1905, according to an upcoming book by local historian and author Brenna Mitchell. A prisoner in the town lock up named Barto Rimel attempted the novel approach of escaping his condition by setting the jail on fire.
Mitchell explained that the fire consumed the jail and could have spread to the entire town.
A month later, as Mitchell notes, “the Rockingham Register reported that ‘Franklin is suffering from a water famine. The town supply of water is totally inadequate for the needs of the people.’”
Infrastructure failing to keep up with a growing town is an age-old issue. In December of 1923, only five months prior to the major conflagration, the problem of water popped up again. Franklin’s Main Street Garage, along with 19 cars stored within, burned to the ground.
Despite the town’s ability in that instance to defeat the threat to the town, the Pendleton Times blasted the council’s inactivity. “It was the heavy pressure of water quickly applied that saved the town,” the paper noted, then added that such a happy circumstance was rarely available, given the condition of the town reservoir.
Marking such an event creates a major challenge for a historical society. One does not celebrate a fire that rips the center out of a town, but historical memory must be served in a way that is informative, yet still hooks the attention and creates interest.
Two weeks ago, historical society members went door to door. They obtained permission from businesses and residences that burned in the fire to be a part of the town remembrance. Then, using pictures from collections of locals, such as Sherry Crigler and accounts from the time, the society fashioned signs that marked each location and provided a description of its role in the blaze.
Black bunting marks the important sites related to the fire through Main and side streets.
Good Friday serves as one of the most important days of the Christian calendar. It is the day that Jesus Christ died, with His resurrection coming three days later. April 17, 1924, was Good Friday that year.
Just as in recent events, dry weather and warm temperatures dried out the region. The town reservoir’s level sank dangerously low. Rampaging spring winds familiar to those who lived in the region then and now whipped through the streets and surrounding forests. That evening the center of so many warnings to the town about the danger of fire, the Pendleton Times, became the flashpoint of the blaze that overwhelmed the town.
The next morning, smoking ruins greeted the sun where a prosperous business district once stood.
The Pendleton County Historical Society and its community partners will hold a memorial service in remembrance of the day and how the citizens rebuilt in its aftermath. Those who wish to participate can attend a special service at 2 p.m. Sunday in the Franklin Presbyterian Church.
Afterwards, those who wish can join a walking tour where local historians will explain the details of how it started, the paths it took to burn, and, most importantly, the people who fought to contain it and the lives changed forever.
