THE PIGGERY

By Rory Morgan - 2019

“Let us raise hogs, more hogs and still more hogs.” 

So said one H.S. Rice, in a letter to the Easton Daily Free Press, published on February 14, 1918. His letter was part of a campaign to persuade Easton to allow the raising of pigs within the city limits. (Rice was actually a resident of Wilson Township, but apparently felt free to tell his Easton neighbors how to manage their city.)

The subject was debated at a City Council meeting, where citizens spoke both for and against the idea. Dr. J.J. Condran firmly opposed the idea and noted that “we are not living in Martin’s Creek or Glendon, but in the City of Easton”. He further noted that Easton was already “having trouble daily” with the residents of certain neighborhoods “keeping chickens in the cellar.”

 Arguing in favor of the idea, a Mr. Van Syckle said that those opposed to the idea should “get out into the country, where they could smell a few hog pens; they would get some color into their cheeks instead of sitting around looking like a ghost.” The Free Press reporter dryly remarked that “To whom this elegant piece of verbal sarcasm had reference was not stated.”

The campaign to allow residents to raise pigs was not unique to Easton. The United States had been actively involved in World War I for almost a year. For various reasons, a severe shortage of pork developed - which, of course, resulted in a dramatic price increase. The obvious solution was to increase the supply of pork across the country - the question was to do that.

The “municipal piggery” was one solution. A number of smaller cities around the country had begun to raise hogs as a municipal function. Edible garbage was fed to the pigs, rather than being incinerated, thus reducing the garbage disposal cost. The fattened pigs were sold to meatpackers, generating income.

Lafayette College professor Dr. Edward Hart became a strong advocate of the piggery concept. He led a delegation from Easton’s influential Rotary club to Worcester, MA, to evaluate that city’s piggery operation. The committee returned with a favorable report and assured Council that there were “no highfalutin ideas in vogue there”, and that “no attempt is made to wash the faces of the porkers or to spray them with cologne.”

Additional support for the piggery came from Henry F. Marx, the respected head of Easton Library. He strongly endorsed the concept and urged Eastonians to see it as a patriotic duty in wartime. In fact, he said,  “we ought to be able to stand a little odor of pigs when we think of our boys in the trenches.”

The piggery issue wasn’t the first time that Easton ended up chasing its tail over garbage. In the early 1900s, cities across the country began to look at ways to improve their haphazard methods of handling garbage. At the time, much of Easton’s garbage ended up in the river or wherever else residents felt like dumping it. Easton decided that systematically collecting the garbage and hauling it to a central municipal incinerator would be a better approach.

While the idea seemed simple, the process of executing it seemed to grind on forever. There were various incinerators on the market. The process of choosing one became - unsurprisingly - complicated by local politics.

 A meeting was described by a newspaper as consisting of “long, senseless squabbles” over the “most trivial details. At one point, a member of Council noted that the necessary decisions were no closer than ever after 21 meetings. Another speaker compared buying incinerators to buying a pair of shoes; he didn’t really know much about them but he thought that he could pick out a good one. A prominent businessman proposed that rather than burning the city’s garbage, it should just be mixed with some cement to make building blocks.

A 35-ton (per day), coal-fired model was finally chosen. The city bought property near today’s Highlands Boulevard and erected the incinerator and its 125-foot smokestack. Mules and  wagons were purchased to collect and haul the garbage. Men were hired to operate the incinerator and coal was purchased to fuel it. In  September, 1910, the burning of garbage finally began.

The project cost about $40,000. The original incinerator ran for about 15 years, but by 1926, there was a need for a new one. A 100-ton unit was selected and constructed - without the drama of the original project.

No one expected the garbage question to again be front and center in a few years. But, thanks to the war, it was; decisions about the piggery had to be made. There was talk of locating it in the lower part of Hackett Park, Ultimately, though, the city bought a 95-acre farm in Williams Township, for $6,500 and about a mile south of the incinerator. (It was in the vicinity of what is now a farm and a mobile home park.) The first pigs arrived in May, 1918.

Just six months later, the war ended. The pressure on pork prices was quickly reduced, as was the influence of “patriotic duty”. By 1920, although the pig population had reached 150-200 and a first-year profit of $2,000 was reported, the city’s enthusiasm for the operation was dimming. An analysis showed that the piggery needed a significant investment to thrive; Easton believed that it could not afford it.

In early 1922, the city went out of the pig business.The property was added to the city’s park system, with the name of South Delaware Park. In 1947, Easton sold it at auction to the Jacksonian Democratic Association; the pigs became a distant memory.

The incinerator continued to operate until about 1960, when the city transitioned to a landfill approach. It sat unused until 1972, when Easton sold the 31-acre property to the developer of The Highlands community.

Municipalities have struggled with waste disposal for a century. Landfills create controversy; as do incinerators. Recycling reduces waste, but doesn’t eliminate it. Pigs can't eat plastic, so piggeries are unlikely to return to popularity. And so the search for a solution will continue.

Thanks to Easton City Clerk Tom Hess for his assistance in preparing this article.

Easton Incinerator

DEATH IN THE AIR - EASTON AND THE INFLUENZA PANDEMIC OF 1918

By Rory Morgan - 2019

There’s a term in the field of public health - “Patient Zero” -  that identifies the first person known to present the symptoms of a widespread illness.

On March 11, 1918, in the midst of World War 1, an Army private named Albert M. Gitchell went to the medical facility at his Kansas base and reported himself as sick. Dozens more soldiers with similar symptoms followed him that day, but since he was the first, he earned the dubious honor of being Patient Zero for the deadly influenza pandemic of 1918-1919. Gitchell recovered and lived for another fifty years; there is no record of whether he knew of his spot in medical history.

The cause of the pandemic (a pandemic is an epidemic that spreads worldwide) was an H1N1 influenza virus. It likely originated in birds, possibly passed through the pig population, and then crossed over to humans. The public generally referred to it as the Spanish flu, although Spain actually had no more to do with it than any other country.

Even though most victims recovered in time, some of those affected died within a day of becoming sick. High fever and heavy, even explosive, nosebleeds were common.  Pneumonia frequently developed. Autopsies revealed unusual lung damage, which led some doctors to describe the illness as “purulent bronchitis.” Sometimes a condition known as “heliotrope cyanosis” was seen, meaning that the patient’s face turned blue. Doctors tried to understand what they were facing, but were handicapped by the fact that science knew next to nothing about viruses. They did realize that this particular influenza was especially deadly for the young, otherwise-healthy, patients who contracted it.

The visibility of the illness decreased during the spring and early summer of 1918, but then suddenly increased as autumn approached. The war had created an ideal environment for a medical disaster; thousands upon thousands of young soldiers were crowded into training camps in the US, or were jammed into troopships headed for France. They took the virus with them to Europe, where it spread to the soldiers who were already there.

Corporal Robert Bitzer of Easton had been in France since July of 1917. He had recovered from a minor combat wound, but couldn’t avoid the virus and died on October 15, 1918. Sergeant Guy Fessenden, an Easton resident, arrived in France a year after Bitzer, in July, 1918. A month later, he wrote to his mother and told her that he had a slight case of “grippe” (an old word for influenza), but that she shouldn’t worry. He was wrong; on August 20, he died in an Army hospital in Joinville, France.

Servicemen who were still in the U.S.brought the virus home with them when they visited. As they walked around town seeing their friends, they deposited the invisible H1N1 bugs wherever they went. The reverse was also true, as healthy parents and others visited soldiers at their bases and picked up the virus. Easton’s Ruth Johnson, for example, visited her husband, Ralph, at his base in Maryland. She soon became ill and returned home, in serious condition. (She survived.)

As September rolled into October, the military’s sick lists grew. Local soldiers died in their camps. They included J. Fred Arnold of McCartney Street, who died while waiting to embark for France. R. J. Swackhammer, a Lehigh Street grocer, died at Camp Lee, VA, as did Roy Sandt, employed before the war at Easton Brass and Machine. Floyd Weaver, previously a chauffeur for Easton merchant Solomon R. Bush, was another Camp Lee victim. (Weaver’s will proved to be newsworthy. It stated that he wanted only the legally-required minimum to go to his “good-for-nothing wife Katie and her aggregation, which made life a hell for me.”)

The Army’s Chief of Staff, Easton native General Peyton C. March, felt compelled to point out that every soldier who died in camp or in transit died in service of his country, just as much as one who died in combat.

At home, things were going from bad to worse. So many telephone operators were sick that Bell Telephone asked the public to limit calls to emergencies only. Some local cemeteries reported that the increased number of deaths and the sickness of laborers caused great difficulty in digging graves for funerals. There was a shortage of caskets. Fraternal organizations, which offered their members financial assistance when ill, reported that the situation was having a dire effect on their treasuries. There was discussion of converting the Armory into a temporary hospital. Industry was crippled by the number of sick workers. Hundreds upon hundreds of children were absent from school. Edith Slutter, a 30-year-old teacher, taught one day and died the next.

The community realized that person-to-person contact spread the disease. One Eastonian reportedly proposed that “There ought to be a law allowing a man to punch a person in the jaw if he coughs in your face.” Doctors and city officials hoped that a less-radical solution could be found. Working in cooperation with the state health department, the city ordered public places to be closed: the schools, the theaters, the ice cream parlors, the hotels - all went dark and silent. The Library closed. Not even religious observances were exempt as church services were cancelled.

Finally, the number of reported new cases began to drop. On October 17, there were 111;

on October 25, there were 49; on October 29, only four new cases were reported. The Express of November 1, 1918, noted that no new cases were reported - although deaths continued, for a while, among those who had become sick earlier.

The full effect of the pandemic will never be known, but there are estimates that it caused between 20 million and 50 million deaths around the world, and hundreds of deaths in the Lehigh Valley. Hopefully, our increased knowledge and improved technology will keep the next one from paralyzing our life as the last one did.

Bell Telephone Notice

Easton Cemetery. His body was brought from France in 1921.

Camp Funston, KS - where Patient Zero was stationed

The Reverend Cotton Amy, Bangor, PA

Today’s offering comes to you from Shirley Seip of Brunswick, Maine. Shirley is the former Shirley Leamon of Bangor, PA. She is a great-granddaughter of Cotton and Eliza (Ware) Amy. Shirley has been working on the Leamon/Amy genealogy for quite awhile and we appreciate her generosity in sharing the following with us!

This obituary appeared in the Easton Daily Free Press on September 29, 1916. The obituary is followed by two photographs: Reverend Amy and his wife Eliza Ware Amy.

Cotton Amy Death Certificate

WALK UPRIGHT THROUGH LIFE

By Rory Morgan - 2019

Newton Alexander Johnson

The Knickerbocker Brace Company, based in Easton, had a phrase from Victor Hugo’s novel Les Miserables as its advertising slogan: “Walk Upright Through Life.” Though it may qualify as good advice generally, Knickerbocker’s purpose in using it wasn’t philosophy, it was commerce. 

Knickerbocker manufactured a contraption described as a “Combined Shoulder-Brace and Suspender." It was advertised as improving the wearer’s posture by preventing “round shoulders” and “expanding the chest”, thereby providing an “upright and manly carriage.” It achieved this by using straps around the shoulders, which in turn were connected to straps running across the back. It also had vertical straps that acted as suspenders for men’s pants or as a support for the underskirts of women.

On May 9, 1882, the United States Patent Office issued patent number 257,696 to a pair of New Yorkers: John D. Hanbury and Charles H. Clifton. (Some sources attribute the invention and its patent differently.) Clifton apparently assigned his interest to Hanbury and completely disappeared from the story. Just as quickly, one Newton Alexander Johnson, a drugstore operator in Guadalupe County, Texas, bought the rights to the invention.

Newton Johnson was born in 1837, to a well-established family in Monroe County, Virginia, (which later became part of West Virginia.) In 1854, when Newton was about 17, the Johnson family moved from Virginia to Illinois. He attended Indiana University and went on to become a teacher. He then operated a drugstore in Galesburg, IL, for a number of years. He married Augusta Little in 1866; the couple eventually had two sons and two daughters. (In some places, Mrs. Johnson’s name is shown as Julia Augusta Little Johnson.)

Around 1878, the Newton Johnson family moved from Illinois to Texas and Newton operated a drugstore there for about four years. Then, in the summer of 1882, very shortly after the brace was patented, he packed up his wife and children and relocated to Easton to begin the company’s operations. It’s not clear what led him to select Easton. At one time, he referenced his desire for his sons to go to Lafayette College as being a factor - but there certainly must have also been business reasons for locating here.

The Knickerbocker Brace Company began manufacturing operations at 333 Church Street, in a now-demolished building across Church Street from the back of today’s Easton Public Market. In July, the company advertised in the Easton Express for workers: “Wanted immediately: seven or eight girls . . . experienced operators in sewing machines preferred.”

There was a silent partner in the business; he was John D. Hanbury, one of the two men who originally patented the brace and sold it to Johnson. In 1882, a document was filed in Northampton County establishing a partnership between Hanbury and Johnson, to operate under the name of the Knickerbocker Brace Company. This John D. Hanbury may well have been colorful businessman J.D. Hanbury. If so, it must have been an interesting ride for Newton Johnson. Hanbury was what we might call an “operator” and partnerships were a favored tool for him. Lawsuits, accusations of fraud and restraining orders against him were not uncommon. Among other things, he was apparently involved with the Evans Vacuum Cap company, which peddled a device that supposedly restored bald men’s hair. (Not surprisingly, it did not work.)  His base of operations was in California, although he was described as a frequent visitor to New York. At one point, he left the United States for Japan, where he set up a watch-making factory in Yokohama. The business failed after several years, and Hanbury returned to California.

Ten years later, an 1892 guide to Easton businesses noted that Knickerbocker provided “ . . . a very large number of men and women . . . constant employment,” and that it manufactured more “combined braces and suspenders than any other concern in the United States.” Newton Johnson’s business acumen wasn’t the only reason for Knickerbocker’s success; societal change also played a part. The “dress reform movement” in the United States and England was affecting the clothing purchase patterns of women; Knickerbocker’s brace was well-suited to the newer styles and its advertising was aimed at both genders.

In 1892, almost exactly ten years after Knickerbocker began, it was reorganized. A corporation, with capital of $25,000 was created to replace the partnership. Ownership shares were held by Newton, his two sons, George and Woodbridge, and by three valued employees. It’s possible that this reorganization was pre-planned from the start to cash-out Hanbury’s partnership share. 

Knickerbocker grew; Newton Johnson built it into an international supplier, which allowed him to indulge his interest in world travel. He also established himself as one of Easton’s business and civic leaders. His home was on College Hill; he was instrumental in establishing the College Hill Presbyterian Church. His interests included the Easton Library Association, the Electric Railway Company, and the Board of Trade, which helped to recruit businesses to the area. He was one of the group of prominent Eastonians who attempted to establish the Paxinosa Inn and he was a director of the Northampton National Bank.

Over time, his health deteriorated. In 1908, he underwent unspecified surgery at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. His recovery was slow and weeks later, on July 7 and still in the hospital, he unexpectedly died. His grave is in Section J of Easton Heights Cemetery, as is that of his wife, who died in California in 1913.

Both of the Johnson’s sons graduated from Easton High School and Lafayette College. The oldest, George, became a lawyer, practiced in St Louis for a number of years, then moved to California. He died there in 1918, at age 50.

The younger son, Woodbridge, became a physician and was a medical missionary in Korea before settling in to practice in California. He died in 1951 and is buried in the Los Angeles area; he was the only Johnson child who married and the only family member whose remains are buried away from Easton Heights Cemetery.

Daughters Julia and Ruth also graduated from Easton High School. Julia went on to graduate from Vassar College. She lived until she was 81, dying in 1952 in Monrovia, California.

The other daughter, Ruth, attended Mt. Holyoke Seminary. When she died in California in 1924, an extensive obituary was published for her in the Easton Express. It was noted that she was one of the “prime movers” in founding Easton’s YWCA and that she was a charter member of the Fortnightly Club, an organization that still continues today. The obituary praised her “charm of manner” and “sunny disposition”.

Following World War I, there was a widespread shift from suspenders to belts among men, negatively affecting Knickerbocker. The company managed to survive until the 1920s, ending up at the Semple Building, 325 Northampton Street. There doesn’t seem to be any trace of it in Easton today. It’s not certain whether any of the braces still exist; it is said that an avid collector of Easton memorabilia searched diligently, but unsuccessfully, for one. Nevertheless, the Knickerbocker Brace Company provided employment for a number of Eastonians for a number of years, and the Johnsons were certainly part of the fabric of Easton life. Hopefully, they will not be entirely forgotten.

Patent Application

<

Johnson Family Plot

The 1955 Flood in Easton, PA

The Free Bridge from Easton, PA to Phillipsburg, NJ

Clean up starts at South Third St. All the buildings on the left were torn down in the 1970's

This is South Third St.

South Third St. All these buildings were torn down.

 

Clean up starts. The Terminal Hotel was at 122 Northampton St. It is now a parking lot.

 

 

 

Aerial view of the Free Bridge

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE RIGHT MAN - THE RIGHT PLACE - THE RIGHT TIME - GENERAL PEYTON C. MARCH

By Rory Morgan - 2019

May 30, 1918 - Centre Square in Easton On the left is the text of Mayor David Nevin's speech.

The United States was actively involved in World War I for less than two years, from April 1917, until the Armistice in November, 1918. In that short time, the nation created, by recruiting and drafting, an Army of approximately 4 million men. It trained (more or less), equipped, clothed, and fed them. It transported 2 million of them to France; there they joined the exhausted British and French forces, which had been fighting against Germany since 1914.

The man primarily responsible for this success was Easton native Peyton Conway “Bob” March, the Army Chief of Staff for most of 1918. Born in 1864, he was one of the nine children of world-renowned Lafayette College professor Francis A. March and his wife, Mildred. Peyton was raised in the family’s house on the College campus and attended the Easton schools. He enrolled at Lafayette at age 15, and graduated with honors in 1884. While there, he was a member of Delta Kappa Epsilon social fraternity and enthusiastically participated in athletic activities, especially baseball. He also reportedly played on Lafayette’s first football team.

After graduation, he made a surprising choice - to pursue a second undergraduate experience, this time as a cadet at the United States Military Academy at West Point, NY. He secured the necessary appointment from local Congressman William Mutchler, graduated from the Academy in 1888 and received a commission as a 2nd Lieutenant in the artillery, stationed in Washington, D.C.

Advancement opportunities were very limited in the small Army of that era. It was not until 1894 - six years after his initial commission - that he received a promotion and a new assignment. Before he and his wife, Josephine headed west to his new post, San Francisco, they enjoyed a three-month visit to Easton. For the next several years, he was occupied with the routine duties of an Army officer in peacetime. 

In 1898, the sad affair known as the Spanish-American War began. Fighting in the Spanish colonies of Cuba and the Philippines, the United States easily defeated Spain. (Although not without a price - Easton native General Charles Wikoff was killed in Cuba. He was the highest-ranking American officer to be killed in the war.) 

War meant opportunity for a professional soldier, no less for March than for any other officer. His chance came when John Jacob Astor, one of the wealthiest men in America, announced that he would personally pay all of the expenses of a new artillery battery for the Army. Organizing and commanding the Astor Battery, as it inevitably came to be known, was a prestigious assignment. It was given to Lieutenant March, signaling his status as an up-and-coming officer. The battery was sent to the Philippines, where March demonstrated leadership abilities and physical bravery. He personally led a charge (unusual for an artillery officer) that resulted in his nomination for the Medal of Honor - although he did not, in the end, actually receive it. 

When the war ended in late 1898, March returned to the United States. He, Josephine and their children took the opportunity to enjoy several weeks in Easton. 

Unfortunately, the end of the Spanish war did not bring peace to the Philippines. The Filipinos believed that the Americans would treat them as an independent nation. Instead, the United States imposed a government that effectively treated the Islands as an American colony. The Filipinos revolted in 1899; the Philippine Insurrection proved to be a longer, bloodier and uglier fight than the earlier war with Spain. 

March eagerly accepted an invitation to return to the Philippines to serve on the staff of Major General Arthur McArthur (whose son, Douglas, would eventually achieve his own military fame). He was later assigned to command an infantry regiment, gaining additional combat experience and valuable exposure to the Army’s leaders.

The Insurrection ended in 1901 and March returned to duty in the United States. In 1903, he was selected to join the Army’s new General Staff, made up of some of the service’s most-highly-regarded officers. Another noteworthy assignment came in 1904, when he was sent to Asia to observe the now-forgotten Russo-Japanese War. However, the death of his wife in November triggered his return home. Peyton and Josephine had five children by then - three daughters and two sons. The youngest - son Lewis - was still an infant when his mother died. Family members cared for the children during March’s lengthy trip home, and continued to assist him until the children were grown. 

The following years were relatively quiet for the Army and for March. He commanded a Field Artillery unit for several years. He then was moved into the Adjutant General’s department for several more years, doing work that was primarily administrative - keeping paper moving along instead of keeping the Field Artillery’s caissons rolling along. As he had experienced at the beginning of his career, desirable command spots were scarce and there was fierce competition to get them. March had to learn to fight bureaucratic battles instead of wartime battles.

In August,1914, everything changed. Europe exploded into war: Germany invaded France. Britain quickly joined the fight alongside the French. The United States stayed out of the war for over two years, but in 1917 declared war on Germany. Although the British and French armies were desperate for the additional manpower from America, that manpower was more theoretical than actual; the Army and National Guard combined totaled just 200,000 men. As March himself put it, such a small force was “of no practical military value” in a war involving millions.

Nevertheless, American soldiers began to slowly arrive in France. They were formally named the American Expeditionary Force or AEF; informally, they were known as the “doughboys”. March initially commanded all of the AEF’s artillery - an interesting challenge, given that the doughboys arrived in Europe without any cannons and had to borrow them from the French. 

By the spring of 1918, Washington realized that the Army’s administration was completely inadequate to handle the enormous demands placed upon it. A strong officer was needed at the top and the spotlight turned to March, by now a Major General. He stood 6’2”, with a military bearing, a cold, blue-eyed stare, and a cutting tongue when necessary. He had a reputation for making fast and firm decisions. All in all, he was ideally suited to shake the Army’s attitude from placidity to urgency. He was ordered to return to Washington as the Army Chief of Staff, to serve as the link between the civilian Secretary of War and the Army’s command structure. He soon realized that the Army’s various bureaus and departments were undermanned, disorganized and lackadaisical; his work to resolve the problems was relentless.

Meanwhile, Easton was fully aware of his career progress to the highest ranks of his profession. In his honor, City Council changed the name of New Street to March Street. In May, he returned to Easton to accept a ceremonial sword, purchased via citywide fundraising campaign and presented by Mayor David Nevin. Lafayette College awarded him an honorary Doctor of Laws degree. The College’s alumni gifted him a horse (whose eventual fate is unknown).

In the midst of his ceaseless labors, he suffered the loss of his oldest son. Army Lieutenant Peyton C. March, Jr. was killed while in pilot training. (California’s March Field, later March Air Force Base, was named for the young soldier.) This tragedy was perhaps somewhat eased by the marriages, within six months of each other, of his three daughters - Mildred, Josephine and Vivian. They all married Army officers. Because Mildred’s husband was stationed in France, she lived with her father and handled housekeeping for him. (The youngest March – son Lewis – broke with the family’s Army tradition by joining the Marine Corps in 1921. Unfortunately, he died of tuberculosis in 1928.) 

Those who achieve high positions in large organizations generally have large egos and strong opinions. March was no exception. His obsessive drive to achieve efficiency made him enemies, at least in the bureaucratic sense. His relationship with the Army’s field commander, General of the Armies John J. Pershing, was often strained, as Pershing continually demanded more of everything: more men, more vehicles, more supplies. March struggled to meet these demands. His dealings with Congressmen often resulted in bruised feelings on the part of the politicians. But, despite all the obstacles, he bent an incredibly complex system of acquisition and transport to his will and ensured that the AEF was a well-supplied and equipped force.

The fighting ended, rather suddenly, in November, 1918. March then turned his attention to the complicated task of bringing most of the 2 million doughboys home and returning them to civilian life. He was also swept into discussions about the future structure and size of the Army. 

These were frustrating times for him. His past friction with Congressmen and other politicians now rebounded against him, diminishing his influence. General Pershing was receiving the majority of the credit for winning the war and was clearly becoming the dominant force in the Army, at March’s expense.

March read the writing on the wall and arranged to retire in 1921. On June 30, his career as a professional soldier ended. He spent the next several years travelling the world, decompressing from the strain of his work. He visited old friends, and met with the leaders of a number of countries. He remarried in 1923, to Cora McEntee, who was over thirty years younger than him. The couple returned to the United States in 1926.

He wrote a couple of articles over the next several years, but otherwise just enjoyed life. Then, in 1931, the memoirs of General Pershing were published. To no one’s surprise, March was unhappy with his portrayal and undertook the writing of his own book. The Nation At War was published in 1932. (A copy is available in the Marx Room.) In 1934, he joined other 1884 Lafayette alumni in Easton to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of their graduation. He continued to live a relaxed and leisurely life, living in Washington, D.C. and in Florida. He closely followed sports, politics and world affairs, as well as the events of World War II and the Korean Conflict.

In 1953, he was honored by receiving the “Thanks of Congress”. Soon after, his health deteriorated. He was in and out of Walter Reed Army Hospital and died there in 1955, when he was 90 years old. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery, with a full military ceremony and with Vice-President Richard Nixon in attendance. His service to the Army was summed up in 1960, by General of the Army Douglas MacArthur: “He was a tremendous officer - a tremendous chief of Staff.”

There’s an old saying in military circles: “Amateurs talk about tactics. Professionals talk about logistics.” Easton’s son proved to be the consummate professional. He was the right man in the right place at the right time.

Peyton C. March at West Point

Peyton C. March retired

Peyton C. March Funeral - Arlington National Cemetery

THE CITY OF EASTON HAD A MISS AMERICA CONTESTANT!

The city of Easton had a Miss America contestant!

The year was 1922 and it was called the National Beauty Tournament, being held during the Atlantic City Fall Pageant. (Miss America originated in 1921 as a “bathing beauty revue”.  Atlantic City started this pageant to keep people coming to the boardwalk after Labor Day) This year’s pageant was to be the "greatest that has ever been held."

The local paper, Easton Daily Free Press on July 20, 1922, was asked to find Easton’s most beautiful girl.

“The Free Press has been been requested to find Easton’s most beautiful daughter, and we have been instructed that the selection is to be made only on merit of beauty. This search for the most beautiful girl of our country is to be real and unlimited. There are to be no conditions that a girl must fill except that of beauty, intelligence and respectability. She may be rich or poor, professional or amateur, She may be married or single. She may be one of the season’s debutantes, or some farmer’s daughter who is not known and has never been beyond the nearest village.”

Twenty five girls were being picked, with the lucky one being chosen by local judges. The Free Press was asking for photos to be submitted to the paper. If they did not have an adequate photo, they could come into the Free Press and the arts department would take the photo.

On August 22, 1922, the Free Press started to print the photos of the twenty five that were chosen. For six days four photos each were put prominently on the front page.

It appears that the Free Press chose the twenty five. 

Those that entered were;

Miss Helen Tigar, Miss Martha Strahly, Mrs. Clayton Sutton, Miss Isabel Violet Conger,

Miss Fannie Miller, Miss Ruth Lerch, Miss Jennie Rice, Miss Helen Hanna, Miss Irma Hagman,

Miss Marion Opitz, Miss Gladys Pritchard, Miss Helen Zehner, Mrs. Bertha Foulk, Miss Imelda Sprague, Miss Julia Case, Miss Emily Johnson, Miss Eleanore Semple, Miss Dorothy Haupt, Mrs. Hanna Scherf, Miss Katherine Lithman,  Mrs. Margaret S. Dougherty, Miss Gladys Kessler, Mrs. Jennie Breyfogle,

Miss Katherine Unger, and Miss Margaret McCluskey.

On Wednesday evening, August 30, 1922, many people filled the auditorium* at the Easton Library hoping to get a glimpse of the beauties. To be fair to each contestant, it was decided that only the judges and employees of the Free Press be allowed to see the girls. Each girl was given a number and walked out onto the platform alone, “so the judges could see her to best advantage.”

The judges were Henry F. Marx, Head Librarian of the library, Wesley M. Heilberger, a shoe merchant,

J. Madison Porter, Eugene Barnako, The Ladies Tailor, and J. H. Heberling, Supt. Of the Carter Jr. Republic.

The judges had arrived at a unanimous decision, the winner, number 8, was Miss Dorothy Haupt, daughter to Claude T. and Ada Haupt of Easton. She would be known as Miss Easton at the Atlantic City Beauty Pageant.

 Miss Dorothy was accompanied by an escort to Atlantic City to participate in all the pageantries.

                                                                                                                                                                      Bettmann/Corbis

1922 Bathing Suit Beauty Contestants with Dorothy the second from the left and last years winner Margaret Gorman on the far right.                                                                                                                                            

 

The judges for the bathing beauty contest were all artists,

Norman Rockwell, Chandler Christy, and James Montgomery Flagg. All in all there were eight judges along with the presenter King Neptune. (Hudson Maxim)

Miss America Contestants                                                                       Chudnow Museum

On the evening of September 7 & 8, 1922, Dorothy was competing against the 1921 Miss America winner, Margaret Gorman, age 16 of Washington DC and 57 inter-city beauties.

In the end, Miss Columbus, Mary Katherine Campbell of Ohio won the overall Miss America of 1922. (spoiler alert…she also won the next year) The Easton Daily Free has all the descriptions and events of Dorothy and can be found on The Easton Daily Free Press micro-film at the Main Easton Public Library. 

Miss Columbus from Ohio, Mary Katherine Campbell winner of the 1922 & 1923 Miss America

Dorothy came back to Easton as a celebrity.

The next year the Free Press had no girls that entered the Miss Easton contest, so Dorothy was asked to be the contestant for Miss America by the Director General of the pageant. As you already read, she did not win.

Dorothy was born January 4, 1905 in Easton, PA and attended Easton High School.

She married George Benore who died young in 1929. Dorothy had a daughter with George. Her daughter married and died a year before her mother in Wisconsin. Later Dorothy married Rocco Bunino and at some point they moved to Wisconsin where they both passed away in 1988.

* The original Easton Carnegie Library was built with an auditorium on the lower floor. Many presentations and shows were held there. In 1927 the auditorium was abandoned and made into the Children's Room.

Auditorium in the Easton Public Library, now the Children's Room