Home < 1907 Index Greene County IAGenWeb

What's New | Bios | Birth/Marr/Death | Cemeteries | Census | Courts | Directories/Lists | Families | History | Maps | Military | Photos | Resources | Schools

1907 Past and Present of Greene County, Iowa
A Frightful Accident, Accidental Deaths,
The Shipman Tragedy, A Triple Drowning

A FRIGHTFUL ACCIDENT A singular and fatal accident occurred at the Panora road crossing of Coon river, May 16, 1885. The bridge had been weakened by a change in the current of the river, and the authorities were considering the necessity of condemning it for public use. It was considered unsafe, but the fact that within two days previous to the accident, two large droves of cattle had passed over it without trouble, in a measure restored confidence. On the afternoon referred to, James Ganoe, accompanied by his mother-in-law, Mrs. Ben Winkelman, and her daughter, a young lady 20 years of age, essayed to cross the bridge on their return home from the city. He was driving two horses attached to a light open wagon and had passed from the long trestle work approach upon the first bent of the bridge when without warning it fell 30 feet to the level of the water below. Fortunately it struck the water squarely, and the outfit was right-side-up, but the frightened horses threw themselves into the water. By great effort Mr. Ganoe managed to free them from the wagon, yet was unable to leave them to go for help, so Miss Winkelman jumped to the shore, ran half a mile to the residence of Geo. W. C. Martin, told her story, and returned with assistance that soon started the trio on their homeward way. They were all badly shaken up, but managed to ride home, hence no fears were entertained of serious results. The next day, however, Miss Winkelman was taken with a severe nervous trouble and in spite of best medical aid and attendance, died two days later. Her death and the nervous shock incident to the frightful experiences of the fall and the after happenings so wrought upon the aged mother that she never recovered from the sad events of that fateful day, and died a few years later. Suit was instituted against the county for $10,000 damages and the case was taken to Shelby county on a change of venue. The facts proven established the county’s negligence, and the amount claimed was paid. ACCIDENTAL DEATHS A decree seems to have been issued as an edict by either Nature or Providence that a certain per cent of “our poor humanity” should come to the end of life’s journey in a tragical manner. This fair county has not escaped the blight of such unhappy conditions. They are chronicled, so far as known, because they are matters of history, not because they are pleasant episodes to contemplate or review. On Saturday morning, December 3, 1885, a young man named Ed Connelley was passing through Jefferson from a westbound trip. He had previously worked three years in Hardin township, hence when the train stopped he stepped off, hoping to see a familiar face. As he attempted to board the train as it started his foot slipped and he loosed his hold and fell between the cars. When picked up it was found one of his legs was broken in two places and he has sustained internal injuries. Local surgeons agreed as to the necessity for the amputation of the limb, but the shock was too great and he died a few hours later. His home was in Ottawa, Illinois, and the remains were shipped to relatives at that place. He was about twenty-five years old and bore an excellent reputation as an upright, industrious man. Leslie Neiderheiser, a stepson of Mr. John Beatty, of Jefferson, was killed in a clay pit near the brickyards, south of the city, Saturday, September 13, 1888. He was employed in the yards, and with others had gone out for a load of clay. While engaged in filling the car there was a landslide and a great weight of hardened clay and earth, that had probably been loosened by recent rains, fell in a mass upon the unwarned workers. Leslie was literally crushed. His back was broken, and both of his legs, one of which was so badly crushed below the knee that the jagged ends of the bone protruded. He was past help, but was tenderly cared for, dying a few moments later of internal hemorrhage. He was seventeen years of age, a good, industrious young man. Several others were badly bruised, but none seriously. Sealous Taylor, a resident of Jefferson, was instantly killed by the caving in of a ditch he was digging, in September, 1901. The work was being done in Cherry street to enable a connection to be made between the water main and the Bee oflice, then in process of construction. The accident happened about the noon hour, but owing to the stooping posture he was in when the earth caved upon him he was buried so deep that life was gone before strong and willing hands could come to his rescue. The time of his sudden interment seemed short, yet the most vigorous attempts at resuscitation failed. He was a man of family, industrious, temperate and a good citizen. The proprietors of the Bee paid the expenses incident to the funeral. A young man named Underwood, whose family home was near Dana, was drowned in the ’Coon river near the old county bridge during the summer of 1890. His business home at the time was at Minneapolis. Minnesota, and he was in Jefferson in the enjoyment of his vacation. A lot of young fellows engaged a ’bus to take them to the river for a swim, and be rather reluctantly joined the party. An hour later his companions came back, bringing his body with them. It is thought he was taken with a cramp and disappeared before those with him were aware that anything had happened to him. He was a worthy young man and his death was generally lamented. Mr. E. R. Lindell, a resident of Jefferson, was instantly killed by a train on the Chicago & North-Western Railway on the evening of July 3, 1903, while walking on the track between the station and the mill. No one witnessed the accident, so it is not well known just how it happened. The case was especially sad on account of his leaving a widow and a large family of dependent children. He was a man of industrious habits and kind to his family. THE SHIPMAN TRAGEDY On the 27th day of June, 1903, Horace Shipman, a long time resident and business man of Jefferson, shot and instantly killed John Swearingen, city marshal, to avoid arrest for a misdemeanor alleged to have been committed by him the previous day. The circumstances leading up to the tragedy are as follows: The afternoon prior to the murder, two young men passed through the alley adjoining Shipman’s residence, and struck or kicked his cow as they passed along. This act, witnessed by Shipman, led to a war of words and further demonstrations, when he hurled a stone, which struck one of them in the head. Complaint was at once entered, and a warrant issued for his arrest. When the officer reported that evening to serve the papers, Shipman refused to go, and Mrs. Shipman, after consultation, said he would submit in the morning. Because of conditions, some friends visited him in the morning and advised him to make no resistance, but he said he would not submit to arrest by the marshal, and his friends said he would go peaceably without any official escort. But the marshal was there with the papers; the arrest had been postponed from the night before, and he refused to delay. Shipman stood in the front hall with his gun, and as Swearingen approached the door told him if he entered the house he would kill him. The marshal advanced, and as he was stepping m the door Shipman fired, the entire charge taking effect in Swearingen’s neck, and he fell dead on the porch. Instantly every one left the house except the desperate man, who prepared to defend himself to the last. The sheriff demanded his surrender, and when no response was made a bombardment of the house was begun, and shots were fired by the imprisoned man in return. By this time the excitement was intense, a multitude surrounding the house at safe range - men, women and children. The hardware stores and many residences gave up guns, which were promply utilized by persons who were willing to take a hand in the struggle to capture the murderer. The corpse of the slain man lay on the porch in full view of the tumultuous crowd, the sight of which added to the intensity of the excitement. For more than two hours no one dared make a move for the possession of the dead marshal, but a steady hail of bullets continually poured into thé house through clapboards, doors and windows. A report was circulated that Shipman had taken refuge in the cellar, and an attempt was made to drown him out with a hose attached to a hydrant, but a near approach of a bullet from inside induced the man who was conducting the experiment to go elsewhere. The sheriff and the crowd kept busy on the firing line, and as all was quiet on the inside. Four men, with an escort, went after the body and returned with safety. An hour later a man with a plank, so carried as to protect his person, ventured so close to the house as to be able to look in at one of the windows, and then he saw the dead man, who had been shot down in his tracks. An examination of the body showed that it was numerously perforated with bullets; that he was shot in the legs and arms, as well as in the vital parts, so determined had been the crusade against him. The dreadful happenings had so wrought the crowd into a condition of excitement that they seemed loth to go to their homes. although commanded to do so by the authorities. The official who died in the service of the city was accorded a great funeral, and the man who died with the brand of a murderer was buried from his home with many people in attendance. A vast amount of litigation grew out of this dreadful event, involving the sheriff, his deputies and many citizens, as well as the widow and estate of Shipman. These cases were on the docket for many years, but on the death of Mrs. Shipman, two years ago, they were all wiped off the books of the court. As is often the case, public opinion was divided as to the legality of the means employed for the capture of Shipman, yet the action of the officers was endorsed by the majority of the people. A TRIPLE DROWNING No tragedy ever wrought out in annals of Jefferson struck its population more forcefully or wrapped the city in a deeper sorrow or gloom than the wondrously sad happening of July 18, 1888, when three bright, winsome girls, idols of the homes where their childish love was so freely given and returned again, went down to watery graves without so much as a hand being stretched out to help them. The calamity was one of those terrible events that come to the home and the community as an avalanche of grief, wholly unexpected as is the lightning’s bolt from out a clear sky. A musical institute was in progress in Jefferson, conducted in part by Professor M. L. Bartlett, of Des Moines, assisted by his wife as accompanist. They were accompanied by their daughter Cornie, a happy girl of eleven years. She had secured the consent of her parents to go down to the residence of Mr. I. J. McDuffie in the southern suburbs to spend the afternoon with his daughters, and Grace Enfield and Merta Chandler, girls about her age, accompanied her. Back of the house was a small brook, and the four girls waded in the stream, following its winding course till it led them to ’Coon river. They ran up and down along the shore, playing in the shallow, clear water. But one of them ventured too far out from the bank, and stepping into a hole disappeared from sight. The remaining girls were horror stricken, but conscious something ought to be done, a second one went to the rescue of the first, and when she went from sight and soon was seen battling for her own life, still a third plunged in in a hope to save one or both the others. The fourth stood alone and helpless on the bank. Her companions were perishing before her eyes. The afternoon sun shone brightly on the scene, and the waters swept on as if the awful tragedy meant nothing to the great world. The town was more than a mile away, but with flying feet Matie McDuffie, with a vision of her three friends struggling in the river, sped to the city and told her sad story. In an incredibly short space of time the entire population, so it would seem, were hurrying to the fatal spot and the search for “the loved and the lost” began. Owing to the treacherous character of the stream, with its undertow, drift wood and tangle of roots, it was deemed best that those in the search should join hands, so that no further sacrifice of life would be made, and after a careful search of a couple of hours the last dear form was found a few rods from the fateful place where the life went out. The three bodies were tenderly placed in an ambulance and borne to the city, followed by a procession who journeyed with bowed heads. The funerals were the saddest ever attended in the town. Two of the lost were only daughters - Grace, of the family of Dr. and Mrs. Enfield, now living in the city; Cornie, daughter of Professor and Mrs. Bartlett, whose residence is in Des Moines, and Merta, of the W. D. Chandler household, who now reside in Bellingham, Washington. The same day a boy named Robert Holmes was drowned at Fleck’s mill, four miles up the ’Coon from where the triple drowning occurred. He was attending a picnic and went into the stream with some boys to bathe, and got in beyond his depth. He was nine years old, a cousin of Mrs. Marion Steele, now of Des Moines.

Site Terms, Conditions & Disclaimer